Time is funny when you're Merlin. Not the mortal, fleeting version of time, no, but the infinite, malleable canvas I manipulate with a flick of my will and a thought.
I had spent a millennium in the Lost Library of Cagliostro.
A thousand years of relentless study, exploration, and invention. I devoured every spell, every magical principle, every ritual forgotten by time. White magic, dark magic, mind magic, elemental manipulation—every page, every glyph, every incantation became a part of me.
I mastered:
White magic—from the simplest wards to the most advanced healing, protection, and reality-reinforcing rituals.
Dark magic—from curses and soul-binding to eldritch manipulations capable of rivaling the gods themselves.
Mind magic—telepathy, domination, illusions, dream manipulation, psychic warfare.
Elemental mastery—fire, water, air, earth, and rarer elements, bending even the natural laws of physics.
Soul magic—understanding, shaping, and defending the soul itself; crafting wards against gods, demons, and eldritch entities.
Ancient god lore—knowledge of forgotten deities, elder powers, and celestial hierarchies that mortals hadn't seen for millennia.
Time magic—not as refined as my current skill, but it layered seamlessly with my mastery of the Eye of Agamotto and my own temporal talent, giving me even more subtle control over causality and flow.
Every book I touched, every scroll I opened, every crystal I gazed into—my eidetic memory absorbed it. The Lost Library bent to me, recognizing that its ultimate master had arrived.
And then… I returned.
Using the Time Stone, I bent the centuries around me. A single thought, a single pulse of temporal energy, and I was back in the same year I had left from.
To the outside world, only a day had passed. To me… a thousand years had passed, and I had become something else entirely.
I was no longer simply a wielder of magic. I was the sum of all magical knowledge, a living nexus of every arcane discipline I had ever studied or encountered. A mind capable of calculating infinite outcomes, casting infinite spells, and manipulating the threads of reality as if they were child's play.
The books of Cagliostro floated around me, still humming faintly, their knowledge now already woven into my essence. I had learned, invented, and perfected. The universe's arcane secrets were now… mine.
I sipped my tea, smiling faintly. A millennium had passed in a day, yet I felt as refreshed as I had the moment I first stepped into Kamar-Taj.
And the celestial seed in the Earth? I could now handle it with… absolute confidence. Not because I was reckless, but because I had become the inevitability itself.
The universe had no choice but to recognize me.
Because I was Merlin.
And there was no one—not gods, not demons, not celestials, not even elder gods—who could match what I had become.