The Time Stone pulsed in my palm, a constant reminder of the vast possibilities stretched before me. With it, I could see not only potential but consequences—what each person might become, and how much they could affect the world.
I spent hours scanning the globe, carefully avoiding anyone who might play a major role in the timeline. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman… even secondary heroes whose actions rippled through the future. I wouldn't touch them. Not yet. I wanted to meet them myself, and interfering could ruin the stories I'd been dying to witness firsthand.
Instead, I focused on hidden talent. People with spark, raw magical potential, but nothing so extreme that they could accidentally rewrite history. Their power was enough to become formidable sorcerers under my guidance, but the ceiling was clear: they could reach Mordo-level strength at best. That was perfect. Talented, disciplined, and loyal—but not a threat to the natural flow of events.
One by one, I began recruiting. Some were wandering mystics who had glimpsed magic but didn't understand it. Others were scholars, poets, or artists whose innate sensitivity to the mystical energy made them perfect candidates.
I appeared to them in subtle ways at first—dreams, whispers, fleeting visions. Slowly, I guided them to the hidden sanctuary in the Himalayas.
By the time the first group arrived, Kamar-Taj was alive with potential. Ancient runes hummed as my students stepped inside. The air smelled of burning incense, fresh snow, and raw mana. The halls of training, libraries, and meditation chambers waited, filled with magical artifacts and tomes that would have made even the Ancient One of my old life smile.
Teaching began immediately. I started with the fundamentals: controlling magical energy, understanding the ley lines beneath their feet, and opening their senses to dimensions beyond the mortal plane. I guided them in defensive spells, wards, and rituals. Combat followed, but always balanced with meditation and insight.
They were quick learners, and under my careful instruction, they grew in strength and skill.
But I reminded myself constantly: They are talented, yes—but none shall surpass Mordo-level power. This is not a school for immortals. It is a school for defenders.
Even so, seeing their growth warmed something deep within me. I had created not just a sanctuary but a new generation of protectors.
And while the world outside remained oblivious to my work, I felt the hum of destiny shifting under my hands.
Soon… the time would come to meet the main players.The heroes I had read about, the ones I had loved, the ones I wanted to see firsthand.
After all… what's the point of being reincarnated if you never meet the main characters?