General (POV)
"Mentor! What is that thing?" The apprentice's voice quivered, somewhere between morbid curiosity and sheer terror, as he gawked at the abomination towering before him.
The entity—a mass of pulsating, otherworldly flesh—responded with a deafening roar that rippled through the temple, shaking both stone and sanity. Kara instinctively flinched, her heart pounding as she stared at the grotesque figure: a writhing chaos of tentacles, each one curling and stretching as though alive. At its center loomed a massive, unblinking eye that zeroed in on her with chilling intensity.
"Shuma-Gorath," Kara breathed, her voice tight with dread as the name of the cosmic horror escaped her lips.
The Ancient One didn't waste a second. With the practiced elegance of someone who's been here far too many times, she brandished a circular relic and conjured the Images of Ikonn. The temple erupted in light as shimmering duplicates of the Ancient One appeared, encircling the monstrous entity. Armed with enchanted whips glowing like starlight, the spectral clones struck out, tangling the beast's sprawling tentacles with uncanny precision.
Nearby sorcerers sprang into action, firing blasts of arcane energy and chanting spells that filled the air with a symphony of magic. One overeager initiate even charged in wielding... a stick.
"Really?" Kara muttered, wincing as the makeshift weapon splintered harmlessly against Shuma-Gorath's hide. "That's your plan? Hit Cthulhu's uglier cousin with a stick?"
"Ancient One," the entity bellowed, its guttural voice shaking the air. "You know this won't hold me for long!"
"Wait," Kara whispered, her brows furrowing. "It talks?"
"Shouldn't I?" Shuma-Gorath's enormous eye swiveled toward her, its tone dripping with cosmic smugness. "What, did you think I just grunt and flail? Typical mortal ignorance."
Before Kara could retort, the Ancient One smirked, her voice sharp as a blade. "You talk big for someone who keeps losing to me. How many times has it been now? Four? Five?"
The monster's roar rattled the very air, tentacles flexing as it strained against its bindings. With a shuddering crack, the glowing whips snapped, and a concussive shockwave sent sorcerers sprawling like leaves in a hurricane.
"Tsk." Kara summoned a shimmering magical shield just in time to deflect flying debris. "It's disgustingly strong—and just plain disgusting." She wrinkled her nose as she eyed the entity's writhing mass. "Seriously, you ever heard of moisturizer?"
"Kara," the Ancient One barked, still holding her ground. "Do not—"
"I know, I know. Don't act recklessly," Kara interrupted, already stepping forward. She couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't going to end without a direct confrontation. "But Mentor, if I don't help—"
"You?" Shuma-Gorath interrupted with a derisive snort that somehow felt far more insulting than its roars. "What could you possibly do, mortal? Go play with your magic trinkets."
Kara froze for a beat, her hand drifting to her katana, Iustitia, which gleamed with an unearthly light as if sensing her intent. Her eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance igniting within her.
"Funny thing," she said, voice calm but laced with steel. "People always underestimate me. Just before I wreck them."
In a single, fluid motion, she unsheathed her blade, its radiant energy casting the temple in a dazzling glow. Kara took a deep breath, centering herself, before lunging forward.
"Alright, squid-face. Let's dance."
The next moments were a blur of motion. Kara darted between Shuma-Gorath's lashing tentacles with almost superhuman agility, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.
Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh!
Tentacles fell like overcooked spaghetti, each slice accompanied by bursts of greenish ichor. The cosmic entity writhed and howled, its massive eye twitching in what could only be described as... disbelief?!
When Kara finally stopped, her chest heaving, she planted her sword tip-first into the ground and leaned on it, her gaze locked with Shuma-Gorath's.
"..."
For a moment, the entire temple fell silent.
"Did she just—" one sorcerer whispered, wide-eyed.
"Yep," another muttered. "She totally did."
Shuma-Gorath's eye twitched furiously, its booming voice trembling with indignation. "You... insolent mortal! You dare—"
"Oh, quit whining," Kara cut him off, flicking ichor off her blade. "You had that one coming. Now, are you gonna leave quietly, or do I have to go for the eye next?"
"Well done, Apprentice Kara!"
"Impressive, Kara!"
"No wonder you're the future Sorcerer Supreme!"
"You go, girl!"
The sorcerers erupted in applause, their voices echoing through the battle-scarred temple. Kara, still catching her breath, glanced around in mild embarrassment. She hadn't exactly planned on turning this into a highlight reel. But judging by their reactions, she'd just skyrocketed from "promising apprentice" to "legend in the making."
"Heh, future Sorcerer Supreme?" Shuma-Gorath's guttural voice cut through the celebratory air like a blade. Its monstrous eye locked onto Kara, its gaze oozing disdain. "You think this is over? Ridiculous."
As if to prove its point, the entity convulsed, and more grotesque tentacles burst forth from its form. Severed appendages regenerated in an instant, and new ones writhed from the glowing magic circle beneath it.
Bam!
The tentacles smashed into the temple floor, sending violent shockwaves that cracked stone and forced the cheering sorcerers to scramble for cover.
KRA-KOOM!
The chaos intensified as Shuma-Gorath lashed out wildly, the impact of its tentacles shaking the entire structure.
"Seraphim Shield!"
The Ancient One reacted with a masterful flourish, summoning an enormous dome of shimmering light that encased the temple. The golden barrier radiated ethereal energy, blocking Shuma-Gorath's assault from reducing the ancient structure to rubble.
"You're persistent," the Ancient One remarked, her tone calm but razor-sharp.
"I told you, Ancient One," Shuma-Gorath bellowed, its tentacles slamming relentlessly against the barrier. "You will not stop me this time!"
BOOM!
Dark energy erupted from the magic circle in a cataclysmic surge, colliding with the Seraphim Shield. The malevolent force corrupted the barrier, sending jagged streaks of black across its golden surface. The air grew heavy, laced with an oppressive, otherworldly power.
Kara felt the weight of it pressing down on her, her breath hitching. "Is Shuma-Gorath... always this strong?"
"No," the Ancient One admitted, her frown deepening. "Something's changed. This power is beyond what I've faced before."
With a commanding gesture, the Ancient One conjured an orb of radiant orange light. It hummed with energy, pulsing as it expanded outward, purifying the encroaching darkness. The dark energy recoiled, but only momentarily.
"It's useless," Shuma-Gorath sneered. "My power is infinite. But you? Your little tricks won't last."
"You will not succeed," the Ancient One countered, her voice steady, though her effort to hold the balance was evident.
"We shall see."
"Mentor," Kara interjected, stepping forward. Her eyes burned with determination. "Let me handle this."
The Ancient One glanced at her protege, assessing the boldness in her stance. "Kara, do you realize the magnitude of energy you'd have to absorb? This isn't a simple spell."
"Heh," Kara replied with a smirk, rolling her shoulders. "How much do you think I can handle?"
The Ancient One hesitated. She knew Kara's Life-Force and Magical Energy Absorption had immense potential—but even Kara had her limits. Did she truly understand what she was about to attempt?
Shuma-Gorath let out a booming laugh. "You? The future Sorcerer Supreme? Spare me. You're out of your depth, mortal."
Kara ignored the taunt, brushing it off. "Yeah, yeah. Big tentacle monster with a superiority complex. Heard it before." She made the growing gesture, her focus sharp. Her voice rang out as she uttered the incantation:
"Birth of the Arborian Realm!"
BANG!
The ground trembled as thick, black vines erupted from the temple floor. Each one was as large and sinuous as Shuma-Gorath's own tentacles, bristling with dark energy. The vines lashed forward, tangling with the cosmic horror's appendages in a fierce struggle.
"What?!" Shuma-Gorath roared, its movements hindered as the enchanted tendrils coiled tighter.
Kara grinned, the strain visible on her face but her resolve unshaken. "You've got tentacles. I've got vines. Let's see who wins."
"Hm?" Shuma-Gorath's voice was thick with confusion as the dark vines wrapped tighter around him. He had expected this to be a simple battle of numbers—more tentacles, more chaos—but this was something different. A deeper challenge than he had anticipated.
"Hmph, petty tricks! Roar!"
With a growl, Shuma-Gorath unleashed a surge of power, hoping to break free as he had done countless times before. But this time, to his utter disbelief, his efforts were in vain. The vines held fast, each magical tendril stronger than the last.
"This is impossible!" Shuma-Gorath roared, his voice trembling with frustration.
Kara smirked, her focus sharp as she pushed her magic to the limit. "Heh, there's nothing impossible, Lord Shuma-Gorath. Times have changed."
With each surge of power, Kara felt herself grow stronger. Her magical energy expanded and solidified, feeding off the cosmic horror's essence. She devoured it greedily, the power flowing through her veins, enhancing her every move.
"You damned trickster!" Shuma-Gorath's fury was palpable, his voice a low growl that rumbled through the temple. He lashed out again, extending more of his dark tentacles from the magic circle in a final, desperate attempt to break free.
Kara's eyes narrowed. "You think you can break free again? Think again."
She chanted once more, the black vines exploding from the ground in a wave of energy. They snapped around Shuma-Gorath's incoming tentacles, intercepting them mid-swing and pulling them tight.
"No, I don't think so!" Kara's voice was firm, a confident edge creeping in. The vines dug deeper, binding the creature, and denying it any further freedom.
"You, a mere apprentice of the Sorcerer Supreme," Shuma-Gorath spat, his disbelief thick in the air, "how could you be stronger than the current Sorcerer Supreme?"
The Ancient One's eyes flickered with irritation at his words. "What do you mean by that?" Her voice was low, her displeasure sharp. She had faced Shuma-Gorath countless times, defeated him time and again, and yet here he was, underestimating her—and now her apprentice. How dare he forget the one who had made him pay for his arrogance?
"Ignorance." The Ancient One's voice rang with authority. "Images of Ikonn!"
With a snap of her fingers, multiple ethereal clones of the Ancient One manifested, their energy whips crackling with power. The whips lashed out, binding Shuma-Gorath's remaining tentacles in a devastating arc, tightening around him with divine precision.
"Kara, suck him dry!" the Ancient One ordered, her voice as commanding as the strike of a whip. She would make sure Shuma-Gorath learned his lesson—this time, it would leave a scar.
Kara's eyes gleamed with determination, though there was a slight hesitation in her gaze. "Mentor, your words are... easily misinterpreted?" she said under her breath, a hint of frustration in her tone. Something was off. She wasn't sure what, but her instincts were kicking in. A nagging feeling clawed at her mind.
....
The air in the small square was thick with tension, as Hamir and the others watched the sorcerers spill out from the temple, their faces drawn with unease. Something was definitely off.
"What happened in there? Which Elder God has graced us with its presence now?" Hamir and his companions moved quickly, their expressions betraying their anxiety as they approached the retreating sorcerers.
"It's Shuma-Gorath," one sorcerer gasped, eyes wide with fear.
"Shuma-Gorath? Well, that's... good, right? I mean, the Sorcerer Supreme's probably dealing with it as we speak?" Hamir couldn't help but feel a flicker of relief at the name. Sure, Shuma-Gorath was a cosmic horror, who belonged to the Great Old Ones, a race of ancient eldritch beings who predated Earth, but the Sorcerer Supreme had faced it before and sent it packing. Why should this time be any different?
"No..." the sorcerer trailed off, shaking his head, his tone laced with dread.
"ROAR!"
"What the hell was that?" Wong stepped forward, his posture tense as he looked toward the temple. That roar was unlike anything he had heard before. Something was terribly wrong.
The sorcerer grimaced. "That's... that's exactly what we're trying to tell you. Shuma-Gorath is... stronger this time. We couldn't even slow it down. And now the Sorcerer Supreme and his apprentice are inside, trying to stop it. The Sorcerer Supreme told us to leave—said it was too dangerous."
"What?!" Hamir, Wong, Mordo—hell, all of them—stared in shock. This was beyond anything they'd expected. Kara was involved?
"You're telling me Kara is helping the Sorcerer Supreme inside there? And you guys just left her alone with that thing?" Hamir couldn't believe it. This was getting weirder by the second.
"Yes, you don't even know—our apprentice is incredible! She cut off Shuma-Gorath's tentacles with a golden sword!" One sorcerer practically vibrated with excitement.
"And the magic she used? It trapped Shuma-Gorath in these massive vines. She actually contained it!" another added, his voice tinged with awe.
"Yeah, the way she's handling herself, it's clear she's going to be the next Sorcerer Supreme." A third sorcerer said with a grin. "Earth's protection is in good hands with her. We won't have to worry about anything now!"
Hamir and the others were stunned. Kara? The quiet apprentice who always seemed to have her nose in a book? This was... mind-boggling.
The trio stood there, exchanging confused glances. Kara's power? That was a mystery they couldn't unravel. They'd never seen anything like it. She hadn't even practiced magic, so how was this possible?
"Wong," Hamir finally asked, turning to the Master of the Mystic Arts, "You're pretty close with Kara. What do you think is going on?"
Wong scratched his chin, looking a little uncomfortable. "Honestly, I'm not sure. She spends most of her time reading, studying, you know, the usual apprentice stuff. She has tea with the Sorcerer Supreme, but I've never seen her practicing magic or anything like that." He paused, clearly unsure of how to explain what he was about to say. "But..."
"But...?" Hamir prompted, his curiosity piqued.
Wong hesitated, then shrugged. "It sounds crazy, but when Kara reads an incantation, she can use the magic—perfectly. No mistakes. It's like she absorbs it just by reading it."
"...What?" Hamir blinked. Mordo looked equally baffled.
They exchanged a look, their skepticism growing. Was it possible? Could someone just read magic and wield it flawlessly without ever practicing? It defied everything they knew about how magic worked.
Hamir chuckled, though it sounded a little strained. "I guess we're getting old, huh? This world's not what we thought it was anymore."
"Yeah," Mordo muttered, scratching his head. "But you know what? Who cares where the Sorcerer Supreme found this prodigy? She's here now, part of Kamar-Taj, and we're all better for it."
Wong nodded in agreement, though his mind was still reeling. The future of magic was definitely going to be different with Kara in the mix.
The three older sorcerers stood there, marveling at the unexpected turn of events. The small square, once a place of quiet contemplation, was now filled with hopeful whispers and awe. There was something extraordinary about Kara, and no one could deny it.
...
Across the Kamar-Taj, Kaecilius and his companions—Cassidy, Mike, and Diane—gathered near the entrance of the library. His expression was hard, a steely resolve settling in his gaze as he turned to address them.
"Are you sure? After tonight, there's no going back," Kaecilius said, his voice low, heavy with the weight of the decision they were about to make.
Cassidy, eyes burning with ambition, spoke first. "As long as what you say is true, we don't care," he declared, his tone unwavering. The promise of immortality was too great a temptation. Leaving Kamar-Taj was a small price to pay.
Mike and Diane nodded in agreement, their eyes locked with Kaecilius's, confirming their readiness. They were all in.
Kaecilius gave a slight smirk. "Of course, I wouldn't deceive you. The magic circle's ready, but I can't summon Dormammu's power alone. I need you to make sure it's done," he reminded them, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. "Let's move quickly. We can't afford to wait for the Sorcerer Supreme to handle things. If we do, we may never get out of here."
"Agreed," Cassidy said, impatiently stepping toward the doors.
Kaecilius pushed the heavy library doors open with a determined shove. The flickering light from the torches inside cast shadows on the ancient walls as they entered, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the stone floors. The night was about to change, and they were ready to make their move.
Inside the library, the Librarian was on his usual night shift, but something felt wrong tonight. He could hear the distant sounds of chaos—the rumbles of battle and distant screams from the direction of the Sanctum Sanctorum. His heart sank as he stared out the window, eyes strained against the night sky.
He wasn't a sorcerer anymore—just a man. Powerless. Helpless. His sigh was heavy with regret, the quiet realization that his days of fighting alongside the Sorcerer Supreme were over. The magic that had once defined him had been taken from him.
A creak from the door snapped him out of his reverie. He turned toward the sound, confusion crossing his face as the doors slowly opened.
"Kaecilius? Cassidy, Mike, Diane?" The Librarian's voice was tinged with surprise as he looked at the four figures entering. "What brings you here so late? Need a book?"
Kaecilius smiled, but it was a smile full of secrets. "Yes, Librarian, we need to borrow a book."
The Librarian, ever the helpful guide, gestured toward the shelves. "All right. Which one do you need? But remember, you should get some rest. This isn't the best time to—"
"I'd like to borrow Cagliostro," Kaecilius interrupted, his eyes scanning the rows of ancient tomes. His voice was steady, yet there was an underlying edge to it, like the calm before a storm.
The Librarian's brow furrowed. "Cagliostro? Kaecilius, I told you before—only the Sorcerer Supreme can understand that book. It's not something you should attempt to read yet. It won't help you."
Kaecilius's smile deepened, though his eyes darkened. "I can understand it now. I'm ready. Can I borrow it?"
The Librarian's confusion deepened. "But... you've never even seen it. How can you—"
"I've read it before," Kaecilius answered cryptically, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
The Librarian's eyes widened. "When... when did you read it? I—"
"You weren't here then," Kaecilius said, his tone curt. "Now I understand it. I just need the book."
The Librarian's skepticism grew, his hand instinctively reaching toward the shelf. "You didn't read it, Kaecilius. You couldn't have."
Cassidy's patience wore thin. "Enough talk, old man. We're here for the book. Stop wasting time." His voice held a sharp edge, a dangerous impatience beneath the surface.
Kaecilius's smile widened, a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Cassidy's right. Let's get to it."
Suddenly, realization struck the Librarian, and his face paled. "You're not here just to borrow a book, are you?" He took a step back, eyes narrowing as he realized what they were after. "Do you even understand what you're doing? The Sorcerer Supreme will never allow you to leave Kamar-Taj with that book!"
Cassidy's laughter was dark and hollow. "At this point, who cares? The Ancient One doesn't care about us anymore. We're done with her."
Before the Librarian could respond, Cassidy lunged toward the bookshelf, his intentions clear—he wasn't here to ask politely. But just as he moved, the Librarian struck. With surprising strength, he used his fists and feet to push Cassidy back, forcing him to stumble.
"Bang!" Cassidy hit the ground, his anger boiling over. "Damn it!" he hissed, rising to his feet, fists clenched in fury. He summoned two orange disks, ready to unleash them at the Librarian.
Kaecilius stepped forward, raising a hand to warn Cassidy. "Hold up, Cassidy. You underestimated the Librarian. He may not have magic anymore, but he's still a fighter."
The Librarian stood tall, a defensive stance taking shape despite his age. "If it weren't for the injuries I sustained earlier, the four of you wouldn't be leaving this door today."
Kaecilius scoffed, conjuring a magical shield with a flick of his hand. "Well, too bad for you. That was in the past. Now, you can't even take a single hit."