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the silent, timeless prison of the Mirror Dimension, time had no meaning. For what felt like an eternity, Aidan Parker sat, not in a state of boredom, but in a profound state of self-confrontation. The Ancient One had not trapped him in a cage; she had trapped him in a mirror, forcing him to look at nothing but his own reflection, stripped of his technology, his AI, and his armies.
He replayed the events of the Hand Island incident, his apathetic justification, and the Ancient One's piercing words: "...arrogance and anger are the twin paths that lead even the brightest souls into darkness." He had dismissed her, his pride a shield against her wisdom. But here, in the unending silence, the shield had cracked.
He remembered the cave in Afghanistan, and his cold, detached explanation to Yinsen: "These are just a string of data to me." He had believed it was a sign of his strength, his control. He saw now that it was a sign of his fear. He wasn't a cold, calculating god orchestrating events from on high; he was a terrified boy hiding from the horror of his own actions behind a digital filter. He was running from the consequences, from the blood, from the humanity of it all.
With a deep, shuddering breath, he finally accepted the truth. His power had become a blindfold. And it was time to take it off.
He focused his mind, not on complex equations or strategic outcomes, but on a single, simple concept: his own heart. He let the arrogance, the pride, and the fear wash away, leaving only a quiet, calm center. He raised his hand, not with the intent to command, but with a simple, humble desire to leave. He drew a circle in the air. For the first time, the orange sparks that formed were not just a product of intellect and energy, but of will and spirit. A stable, shimmering portal opened before him. He had found his own way out.
He stepped through, from the fractured reality of the Mirror Dimension into the serene, solid reality of the Kamar-Taj Great Hall. The first person he saw was Mordo, who stood watching him, his arms crossed, his expression a mask of wary neutrality.
"The Ancient One said you would not be able to leave until you understood your own heart," Mordo stated, his voice flat.
"I'm beginning to," Aidan replied, his own voice quiet, stripped of its usual bravado. He looked directly at Mordo. "I was arrogant. And the methods I used… were born of that arrogance. I apologize."
Mordo was visibly taken aback by the direct, sincere apology. He studied Aidan for a long moment, then gave a single, slow nod. "Humility is a lesson even masters must relearn," he said, the tension between them finally breaking.
At that moment, Wong entered the hall, carrying a tray with a large, steaming bowl of hearty beef stew and a pot of tea. "The Ancient One said you might be ready for some food," he said, a warm, knowing smile on his face as he saw the two of them standing together.
Later, after Aidan had devoured the meal with a hunger that felt both physical and spiritual, he retreated to his spartan room. He needed to reconnect with the world he was sworn to protect. The first call was to Yinsen.
"Aidan! It is good to hear your voice," Yinsen said, the sound of a bustling office in the background. "The Baymax launch has been… overwhelmingly successful. We are back-ordered for the next two years. The humanitarian stations in Gulmira and Syria are saving lives every day. Your vision… it is becoming a reality."
"That's good to hear," Aidan said, a genuine warmth filling him. "Keep the focus on the medical and humanitarian efforts. The company's reputation is our greatest asset."
He lay down on his simple cot, closed his eyes, and spoke to the universe. "...System. Requesting entry into a dream."
"Acknowledged," the familiar, mechanical female voice sounded in his mind. "Now entering. Please be prepared. This dream is 'Transformers'. The time scale is one-to-one-thousand. After death, you will be forcibly exited and cannot enter again."
His consciousness was flung across the cosmos. He witnessed an epic, ancient history as a series of powerful, fleeting visions. He saw god-like beings of chrome and light, the "Creators," seeding primordial worlds with a liquid, "Transformium" metal. He saw a planet of shifting, geometric metal rise from the chaos, and at its heart, a cube of blinding, cosmic energy—the AllSpark. He saw the self-aware mechanical lifeforms it created, the Cybertronians.
He saw a failed experiment: a planet-sized entity of pure chaos and hunger, Unicron, the Universe Emperor. He witnessed the first Seven Primes, beings of immense power, waging a war of gods against it, finally defeating the monster and sealing it away, its dead body becoming the core of a new, blue-green planet—Earth.
He saw the Primes, their own energy source, the AllSpark, now exhausted, design a massive Stellar Harvester to drain a star and reignite their world. He saw their final law: to never use it on a planet that harbored life. He saw them discover the primitive, organic life on Earth. And he saw one of them, the one they called The Fallen, betray his brothers in his lust for power, sparking a civil war that shattered their dynasty.
The visions faded, and Aidan's consciousness fell into a brief, final darkness. He had arrived.