My dimensional library was quiet in the way only a structure outside of normal space could be. No sound. No wind. No physical sensation at all—just floating rows of endless shelves, rotating platforms of bound spells, and constellations of glowing tomes orbiting gently like celestial bodies.
It was the perfect place to study…and an even better place to accidentally do something catastrophically stupid.
I sat on a floating obsidian platform, legs crossed, several of Agamotto's personal grimoires hovering around me. They pulsed with golden light, each one bound by cosmic energy that would liquefy any mortal idiot who tried to read them.
Good thing I wasn't mortal anymore.
I opened one of the older texts—The Codex of Eternal Perception—a truly monstrous brick of a book that contained Agamotto's deeper thoughts on magic, perception, and higher‑dimensional combat. Exactly what I needed, considering the sort of cosmic horrors that would eventually start sniffing around Earth.
As I turned a page, a sliver of something pale drifted loose from the spine.
I blinked."Is that… hair?"
A very long, very golden strand of hair rested against the page, radiating the unmistakable signature of the first Sorcerer Supreme.
Agamotto's hair.
My hand instantly slipped, and the strand almost fell into the void between platforms.
"Nope—nope—nope—mine!"
I snatched it mid‑air with a reflex even Batman would applaud.
For a moment I just stared at it.A fragment of the man who founded the Mystic Arts.A piece of DNA from a being whose raw power shaped entire dimensions.
This wasn't just a relic.
It was a weapon.A tool.A living resource.
I didn't hesitate—I conjured a small glass vial with a sealing rune and carefully slid the hair inside.
Orochimaru would've been proud of me.Sickened, but proud.
"Agamotto, you really should've used better bookbinding glue," I muttered as I tucked the vial away.
I continued reading, but now I was paying attention. I started checking each book I studied, just in case. And sure enough…
It happened again.
And again.
And again.
A flake of skin here.A drop of ancient dried blood there.A strand of hair from some other cosmic sorcerer.A torn scrap of robe containing DNA from another.
I collected each sample carefully, placing them into separate glass vials, each labeled with glowing runes. My pocket dimension now had an entire shelf dedicated to "Potentially World‑Breaking DNA."
Under normal circumstances, cloning these people would be insane.But I wasn't normal.
With Orochimaru's knowledge?It was possible.
With my magic, experience, and divine‑level barriers?It was safe.
And with the way this Earth's future was shaping up?
It was necessary.
"I could create artificial sorcerers," I mused aloud, flipping through a chapter on time‑fracture stabilization. "Ones designed purely for defense. I wouldn't need them to be perfect copies—just functional magic users with strong potential."
I imagined it:A legion of magically talented constructs, each bearing fragments of Agamotto's talent, combined with my instruction, shaped into powerful defenders.
An entire generation of sorcerers created solely to help me protect the planet.
The idea was… dangerous.Tempting.Completely unethical.
And absolutely brilliant.
But that was a project for another time. For now, I went back to studying.
I flipped open one of the oldest grimoires—the kind most sorcerers wouldn't even dare to touch. The cover was made of dimensional fiber woven with stardust, and the pages shimmered with symbols that rewrote themselves based on the reader's experience.
Agamotto didn't just write spells.He wrote warnings.And most of them were about beings like Darkseid.
I read through a section titled Ascendant Titans: Necessary Countermeasures.
Spells designed to counter:
New Gods
Old Gods
Chaos Lords
Dimensional tyrants
Beings whose mere presence bent causality
Exactly the kind of stuff I needed.
The deeper I went, the heavier the aura around me grew. The spells weren't just instructions—they were tests. Agamotto didn't want just anyone learning these techniques.
But I wasn't "anyone."
I absorbed page after page of absurdly powerful magic:
Solar Dominion Runes capable of piercing god‑flesh
Chronal Rend Bolts that stopped regeneration
Absolute Ward Constructs that laughed at Omega Beams
Spatial Lock Sigils that could hold a Kryptonian mid‑flight
Eternal Warding Networks meant to shield entire planets
By the time I reached the end of the book, my head was buzzing.My aura was glowing.And the whole library adjusted itself to accommodate the sudden spike in my magical presence.
Even after thirty years, learning from Agamotto was still like drinking molten light straight from the sun.
I leaned back, rubbing my eyes."…Okay. That should help in a future Darkseid situation."
Yeah. Future me might cry, but she'd be prepared.
I floated the books back into their shelves with a gesture, then stood up, stretching slightly.
Outside the library, I could feel the world humming through the barrier.Demons testing edges.Chaos ripples from Klarion licking at reality like a spoiled cat.Dimensional anomalies brushing against my wards.
Just another Tuesday.
I picked up the rack of vials containing DNA samples, feeling the weight of future possibilities.
"I probably shouldn't clone a cosmic sorcerer," I whispered.A beat."…Probably."
Then I smirked.
Orochimaru would call me a coward for hesitating.
Agamotto would call me a genius for planning ahead.
Loki would call me predictable—then clone himself just to prove a point.
And me?
I was going to prepare for the day Darkseid, Trigon, or some other multiversal jackass finally decided Earth looked appetizing.
I tightened my grip on the vials.
"Let's hope none of you ever become necessary."
Because if I ever needed them…
The universe would already be on fire.