Recalling the terms of his pact, Luke decided to use his Sling Ring and opened a portal straight back to Kamar-Taj.
He stepped out near the Ancient One's tea room just in time to see a sorcerer formally requesting to leave.
Most disciples came to Kamar-Taj with a specific goal in mind. Once that goal was achieved, some chose to stay and further their studies in the mystic arts, while others preferred to return to their normal lives.
"Pangborn, are you absolutely certain you wish to leave?" the Ancient One asked, glancing briefly at Luke to signal him to wait.
The man named Pangborn nodded deeply. "Sorcerer Supreme, my body has fully recovered, but I fear my natural talent does not allow me to pursue the mystic arts any further."
The Ancient One nodded understandingly. "Very well. Since you have made your decision, you may go."
Pangborn offered a deep, respectful bow to the Sorcerer Supreme before turning and walking away.
"Pangborn... that name sounds really familiar," Luke muttered once the man was out of earshot. He knew he had heard it before; it had to be a minor character from the movies.
"Complete severing of the spinal cord at C7 and C8. Paralyzed from the chest down, with total loss of function in both hands," the Ancient One recited, perfectly mimicking the tone of a certain arrogant neurosurgeon.
"Oh! Right, that guy!" Luke finally remembered. Pangborn was the retired sorcerer in the Doctor Strange movie who miraculously healed his paralysis with magic, eventually pointing Stephen Strange toward Kamar-Taj.
But what truly shocked Luke was the Ancient One herself. She currently wore a genuine, relaxed smile and was actually cracking jokes with him.
"How do your disciples feel about this sudden change in you?" Luke asked, following her into the tea room.
"Most of them are quite unsettled. Mordo, for instance, seems entirely convinced I have suffered some sort of catastrophic magical backlash," she chuckled softly, picking up the teapot and pouring herself a fresh cup.
"I assume you have returned to find a way to continue your growth?"
"It must be incredibly convenient to just peek into the timeline whenever you want," Luke said enviously. If he had the Time Stone, he wouldn't be raiding gang hideouts for chump change. He'd just buy winning scratch-offs! (Lottery tickets were too traceable.)
"Time can occasionally deceive you, can it not?" she replied cryptically, taking a slow sip of tea. She gracefully traced a small portal with her free hand, reaching through to pull out a thick, leather-bound book, which she handed to him.
"However, time certainly did not deceive me regarding the purpose of your visit today."
The moment Luke took the heavy tome, the System chimed in his head.
[Notice: Dark Dimension coordinates detected. Would you like to absorb its Dark Energy Crystals?]
"Dark Energy Crystals are the foundational anchors that sustain any given Dark Dimension," the Ancient One explained. "They cannot be artificially manufactured by mortals. Thus, if you wish to expand your own domain, you must venture into other Dark Dimensions, locate their crystals, and absorb them."
"That book contains the cosmic coordinates to various fragmented Dark Dimensions. You can use it to pinpoint their locations and plunder their crystals."
Luke suddenly remembered a piece of obscure Marvel lore. Originally, the Dark Dimension was a singular, massive reality. At some point, it had fractured into countless smaller realms, with Dormammu claiming the largest piece.
"Don't tell me Dormammu wants to conquer Earth just to get his hands on these books?" Luke joked, flipping through the cryptic coordinates. "Is he just trying to put the pieces back together?"
"Perhaps," the Ancient One mused, taking a seat at the low wooden table and pouring him a cup of tea. "Dormammu has fully integrated himself with his domain. The only way he can continue to grow stronger is if the Dark Dimension itself expands."
"Yikes. So this book is essentially a massive target on my back," Luke realized, looking at the tome with newfound respect. "If Dormammu's cultists find out I have this, they're definitely going to try and murder me for it."
Despite the danger, he had no intention of giving it back. His System could only mine one dimension at a time. Once he tapped out a dimension, he would need this book to lock onto the next one to keep progressing. He had to protect it at all costs.
He waved his hand, summoning a Shadow Ninja to take the book and sink back into the shadow realm. While dark energy was highly corrosive and usually destroyed physical objects over time, items held by the Shadowkhan within the shadow realm were perfectly preserved.
Watching his cautious action, the Ancient One offered a gentle warning. "Most of the coordinates in that book lead to ownerless fragments of the Dark Dimension. However, several of those realms have already been claimed by powerful entities. If you recklessly plunder their crystals, you will inevitably provoke a fight."
Luke skimmed through a random page of coordinates. Considering he had the most overpowered bodyguard in the universe sitting right next to him, he casually selected a target. As long as the owner wasn't on Dormammu's level, they would just tag-team whatever demon showed up!
[Available Dark Energy Crystals to Mine: 10,324]
Seeing his growth cap skyrocket, Luke comfortably kicked back and sipped his tea.
"By the way, when do you plan on bringing Stephen Strange here? And when exactly are you going to retire?"
The Ancient One shot him a dry look. "Rest assured, I have no intention of 'retiring' by dying anymore. As for when my actual retirement will begin, that entirely depends on when Stephen inevitably suffers his accident. Once I do step down, I plan to visit some old friends and perhaps travel to another magical sanctuary to learn a few new things."
Luke nodded approvingly. Although many fans theorized that the Ancient One didn't truly die in the movies—instead ascending to join the cosmic entity Eternity—by the physical laws of the universe, she was dead.
With her surviving this timeline, the upcoming war against Thanos might actually be manageable.
Though, they would definitely need to lock Star-Lord in a closet first.
Before transmigrating, Luke had watched Infinity War, but he only saw Thanos successfully snap his fingers. He had absolutely no idea how the Avengers eventually fixed things in Endgame.
He made a firm resolution right then and there: when Thanos finally showed up, he absolutely refused to be turned into dust just because some giant purple alien wanted to flip a coin with the universe.
'I'll just have my ninjas knock Star-Lord out and drag him away before he can throw a tantrum and ruin the entire plan.'
With his new coordinates secured, Luke said his goodbyes and headed out to find Mordo for another "friendly" sparring match.
This time, a swarm of 74 Shadow Ninjas completely overwhelmed the elite sorcerer. Even with Mordo utilizing actual offensive spells, he could only block a few strikes before being ruthlessly beaten down by the sheer numbers.
Deeply satisfied with his growing army, Luke triumphantly returned to his little apartment in New York.
However, the moment he stepped through his Sling Ring portal, he froze. A man with a severely receding hairline was casually sitting on his favorite couch, happily playing his favorite video game.
"I didn't expect a famous S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to be a gamer," Luke remarked, silently stepping out of the portal to stand right behind Phil Coulson.
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Coulson's expression didn't change, but his mind was racing.
'What was that? A portal? What kind of classified tech is that, and where did he just come from?'
Coulson calmly paused his massacre on the screen. Not wanting to ruin the man's impressive kill-death ratio, Luke simply reached over, grabbed the spare controller, and joined the game. However, Luke was immediately obliterated by the enemy team, prompting his teammates to furiously spam question marks in the chat.
"I managed to boost your rank a few tiers," Coulson offered with a friendly, practiced smile.
Luke glanced at the agent. 'No wonder they call him the Village Chief of the Marvel Starter Zone. Almost every transmigrator has to deal with him first.' It was just his luck that the Ancient One had forcefully hijacked his own tutorial phase.
Feeling the sheer, weaponized charisma radiating from Coulson, and noticing that his competitive rank had genuinely gone up, Luke found it impossible to stay mad. He had initially been furious that someone broke into his home, but now he just felt mildly annoyed.
He handed the controller back. Coulson smiled warmly, took it, and resumed effortlessly slaughtering the enemy team. At the same time, his thumb subtly brushed against a concealed button on his cuff.
While racking up kills and enjoying the praise in the game chat, Coulson casually asked, "So, you are the infamous 'Shadowkhan' that everyone in Hell's Kitchen is talking about. Are you the leader?"
"The Shadowkhan is literally just me, so yeah, I guess that makes me the leader," Luke replied, watching the screen. He couldn't help but marvel at how ridiculously multi-talented S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were. 'Maybe I can ask Nick Fury to assign a few agents just to boost my gaming rank?'
Coulson blinked in surprise, missing a shot and immediately getting sniped by an enemy player. Ignoring the enemy furiously teabagging his character's corpse, he quietly memorized the player's ID, fully intending to have S.H.I.E.L.D. audit their taxes later.
Seeing Coulson's flawless 30-0 streak ruined, Luke sighed in disappointment.
Instantly, a Shadow Ninja melted out of the darkness directly behind the couch, pressing the razor-sharp edge of a katana against Coulson's neck.
"Ah. And who might this be?" Coulson asked calmly, though his heart skipped a beat as he mentally confirmed his earlier suspicions.
"My subordinate. Oh, and by the way, these are the Shadowkhan," Luke said, showing them off like a proud parent.
One by one, the pitch-black ninjas surfaced from every shadow in the room. Within seconds, the cramped apartment was packed with silent, glowing-eyed assassins.
"It appears you are indeed a one-man army," Coulson said, completely unfazed, even managing a polite joke. "May I ask, then... why did you order them to slaughter those men?"
"I'm an undocumented immigrant, I just got to this city, I have no money, and I had nowhere to live," Luke explained, throwing his hands up helplessly. "You saw me come in just now, right? My boss refused to let me stay at her place and kicked me out."
"I see. Would you like us to assist you in acquiring proper identification?" Coulson seamlessly ignored the mention of the "boss." That was an obvious landmine. If he probed too deeply about whoever possessed that terrifying portal technology, he might get assassinated on the spot.
Luke nodded eagerly. 'That's exactly what I was waiting for!'
He was currently living in Hell's Kitchen, where landlords didn't care about IDs as long as you paid in cash. But without a proper identity, he couldn't even open a bank account. Right now, he was using a burner phone he had looted off a dead gangster just to order takeout, and he was forced to pay the delivery drivers in exact change.
"That would be great. How much will it cost? Keep it reasonable."
At Luke's command, a ninja slid open the door to the spare bedroom, revealing a massive, literal mountain of cash that tumbled out into the hallway. Most of it was in small, crumpled bills.
A single quarter rolled across the floor and clinked against Coulson's shoe.
Coulson set the controller down as the match officially ended. His team had won, with Coulson personally securing over fifty kills. The enemy team was frantically screaming "CHEATER!" in the all-chat.
Standing up smoothly, Coulson said, "I will return to headquarters and process your identification immediately."
Luke didn't make a move to stop him. He just waved a hand, and the ninjas parted to form a clear path to the door.
As Coulson watched the terrifying assassins silently melt back into the shadows, he internally cursed his tactical strike team for being so slow to respond to his panic button.
He opened the apartment door and stepped out into the stairwell—only to freeze.
Every single member of his heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team was unconscious, piled haphazardly down the stairs like discarded ragdolls.
He slowly turned his head back. Luke was leaning casually against the doorframe, while dozens of glowing red eyes stared out from the pitch-black darkness of the apartment behind him.
Luke walked back to his living room, completely unbothered. He wasn't worried about S.H.I.E.L.D. declaring war on him. He had strictly ordered the ninjas to only knock the agents out, proving he had no lethal intent toward the government.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. had half a brain, they would recognize the olive branch he was extending and happily deliver his new ID to his doorstep.
He plopped back onto the couch and picked up the controller to start a new match, only to stare in horror at the screen.
[Notice: Due to highly irregular performance fluctuations, your account has been permanently banned.]
"DAMMIT!"
"So you're saying he didn't kill a single one of them? He just knocked them out?" Nick Fury leaned forward, his single eye gleaming with the calculating intensity of a seasoned fox.
Taking out an entire S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical squad without making a sound and without inflicting any lethal injuries required an absurd level of skill and power. Even though this specific squad wasn't top-tier, they were still highly trained operatives.
Fury picked up the mission report, his eye rapidly scanning the critical details.
"It seems we were used as pawns in someone else's game. Whoever he angered in Hell's Kitchen will likely make a move against him soon. When they do, send a team to back him up. Consider it a favor to build goodwill."
Fury tossed the file onto his desk. "As for his identification... since he possesses this kind of power and hasn't gone out of his way to cause mass panic, grant him full citizenship. And throw in a... 'Security Consultant' badge while you're at it."
Back in his apartment, Luke was furiously refreshing his email, waiting for his ban appeal to go through so he could actually play his game.
To pass the time, he opened his System and spent all the energy he had mined recently to buy more units. His army now stood at a formidable 90 Shadow Ninjas.
Based on his extensive experience with idle games, he knew that hitting the 100 milestone usually unlocked the next tier of units. It would likely provide massive, multiplicative buffs to his existing ninjas or unlock an entirely new, stronger unit type.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his gamer rage, but a sudden, intense feeling of dread washed over him.
He snapped his head toward the window—just in time to see an RPG rocket screaming straight toward his apartment.