Chapter 344: "You Believe in the Future You Saw. I Believe in My Partner, Ethan."
High above the battlefield, the massive, dread-inspiring warship hung silent in the sky, like some sleeping giant.
At Thanos's command, the entire vessel seemed to surge with terrible new life, radiating a menace that chilled everyone below.
Along its hull, rows of gun batteries sprouted up in an instant, like weeds after rain, every barrel trained on the battlefield beneath without a shred of hesitation.
Then came a deafening roar of cannon-fire — BOOM BOOM BOOM! — as countless blue laser beams tore free of the batteries, streaking down like lightning bolts ripping through the sky, raking mercilessly across the ground below.
The entire battlefield seemed to be swallowed by that overwhelming force — alien horde and Avenger alike, utterly helpless against it.
The blue laser fire tore through everything in its path, leaving devastation in its wake.
Countless lives were extinguished in that single barrage, the air thick with the reek of smoke and blood.
The Avengers, already fighting for their lives, now had nowhere left to hide.
No cover, nothing to shield behind — they had no choice but to grit their teeth and weather the merciless bombardment head-on.
In an instant, the battlefield filled with screams and cries of agony, both Avengers and alien soldiers alike sent scattering, blown off their feet, fleeing in every direction.
Wanda alone stood apart from the chaos.
She'd had a real chance, moments earlier, to finish Thanos off single-handedly and end the whole war right there. But just as she moved to strike, a blue laser beam caught her square-on.
The impact hurled her body several meters through the air, and she slammed hard into the ground.
And then things got worse. The bombardment had shattered a dam upstream.
The dam's collapse unleashed a massive wall of floodwater, surging toward the battlefield like some ravenous beast.
The already-chaotic battlefield descended into total pandemonium under the flood's assault.
"Uh, is anyone else seeing this?" Ms. Marvel called out, alarmed, the instant she spotted it.
Doctor Strange turned toward the surging water and immediately moved in, weaving magic to try to redirect the flow.
Whether it was the sheer force of the current or simply that his spellwork had gone rusty from disuse, he found himself struggling to hold it back.
That was when Strange stepped in and lent his own magic to help Doctor Strange wrestle the flood under control.
"Wow. Guess somebody hasn't kept up with their studies over the years," Strange teased.
Doctor Strange looked over at the man who wore his own face — younger, more vibrant, more arrogant than he currently was.
He said nothing. Just gave a faint smile. Years of war, and the negotiation with Dormammu, had long since worn the arrogance out of him.
He wasn't the same haughty surgeon-turned-sorcerer he'd once been.
And he could tell, plainly, that this other Strange's magic and raw power rivaled his own, if not exceeded it. Toward this parallel-universe version of himself, Doctor Strange felt nothing but genuine gratitude.
"You should be calling me 'senior.' I'm well past the age of comparing myself to anyone, kid. But — thank you, for saving our world." With that, Doctor Strange turned back to the flood without sparing his counterpart another glance.
"Once the fighting's over, want to sit down and talk?" Strange wasn't bothered by the jab — he knew his own personality well enough. But he genuinely had questions he wanted answered: what this timeline's Strange had gone through, what becoming Sorcerer Supreme had actually cost him.
Doctor Strange said nothing. But at Strange's words, something inside him flared with an irritation he couldn't quite explain.
Still, he found himself genuinely curious — how could this other Strange possibly be so confident this battle would end in victory?
Fighting to keep his frustration in check, Doctor Strange pressed the question. "How can you be so certain we're going to win this fight? How can you be so certain any of us will survive it afterward?
Out of the fourteen million futures I saw, exactly one ended in our victory. This one — this was the closest we ever got to that outcome. But now that you and your friend have shown up, that future I saw has already vanished.
So tell me — what exactly gives you the right to be so confident we're going to win this war? What?"
Doctor Strange's frustration had been building steadily, and Strange's careless, breezy manner had finally tipped him over.
And fair enough — Strange genuinely could afford to not care. This wasn't his universe. If they lost, worst case, he and Ethan could just brush themselves off and leave. That casual attitude cost him nothing.
But Doctor Strange didn't have that luxury. He'd surrendered the Time Stone, gambling everything on this one outcome. If the bet failed, his death would be real — permanent, absolute.
Which was exactly why Doctor Strange found this other version of himself's attitude so grating — like the man was treating the whole war as some kind of game.
Strange caught the edge underneath the question and answered simply, without any real weight behind it. "What gives me the right? Simple. My friend. My partner, Ethan. I trust him. I trust he'll lead us to victory."
Doctor Strange froze at that — his magic nearly slipped entirely, and the flood almost crashed right down on top of him.
"Isn't that exactly what you did? Didn't you trust your own partner enough to sacrifice yourself for this bet in the first place? Relax — Ethan never fights a battle he isn't sure he can win.
Honestly, it looks to me like you've been carrying the entire weight of protecting this world on your own shoulders. That's exhausting work. You need to learn to trust your own team a little more — even if, admittedly, this particular team isn't exactly overflowing with heavy hitters." Strange kept going.
Strange looked at this other version of himself — visibly so much older, worn down by years he himself hadn't lived — and let out a quiet sigh. Watching how much this world's Strange had sacrificed for it, hair gone white from the strain of it all.
Still, Strange understood — that kind of responsibility for a whole world's safety wasn't something you could just set down whenever you liked. If nothing else, there weren't many people in this universe stronger than Doctor Strange. If he didn't carry the weight, who else would?
That ragtag, thoroughly ordinary Avengers roster? Fat, unreliable Thor? That whole team of lady Avengers, or Wanda off chasing after her husband?
Strange almost felt sorry for Doctor Strange. Back home, there was a whole roster of people far more capable, far more reliable than him — and Ethan on top of that. There was simply nothing to worry about.
Strange genuinely wanted no part of the life Doctor Strange was currently living. Too exhausting by half.
"You believe in the future you saw. I believe in my partner, Ethan."
Doctor Strange said nothing, just looked out at Ethan in the distance, still calmly mopping up the remaining enemy soldiers.
He found himself genuinely curious — what kind of man was this Ethan, that he could inspire this much unshakable confidence in another version of himself?
"Trust in a partner, huh...
...Is he really worth that much faith, Stephen?"
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you