An unnatural silence, heavy and suffocating, fell as Kaecilius and his seven remaining Zealots were violently expelled from the portal, sprawling across the stone floor. Their escape had been anything but clean.
Kaecilius was the first to recover. Scrambling to his feet, he snatched the Amulet of Muur from the ground. His gaze was like sharpened flint as he channeled a sliver of his own dark power into the artifact, reinforcing the mystical bonds that imprisoned the spirit within. This time, he didn't just restrain it; he made it hurt.
He felt a perverse satisfaction as a wave of agony emanated from the amulet, the ancient Sith Lord's soul writhing as the shackles tightened.
"You arrogant fool!" Muur's voice roared in his mind, a psychic shriek of fury. "Do you have any idea who you are trifling with?!"
"I am dealing with a trapped spirit," Kaecilius responded, his voice dangerously calm as he inspected the amulet. "A relic whose power any competent master could wipe clean in a heartbeat, erasing you along with it. Now, you will tell me what abomination transformed one of my acolytes into that... monstrosity. And if you attempt to withhold anything from me, I will personally tear the memory from your very soul. Are we clear?"
Under any other circumstances, Muur would have unleashed a torrent of spiritual destruction. But here, he was at a severe disadvantage. This sorcerer could inflict true pain, a feat few Force-sensitives in his own galaxy could ever manage. The Sith Lord had no choice but to recede, his spectral presence radiating pure, unadulterated hatred.
"Banish your petty rage," Kaecilius commanded, his voice laced with ice. "It is one thing for my students to be captured. What I witnessed was a fate far worse than death."
"Such things happen in the pursuit of true power," Muur retorted, his voice a low snarl. "One cannot be picky about the manner of their demise."
"I am in no mood for your philosophical games, Sith." Kaecilius sent another searing pulse of energy into the amulet, causing Muur's spirit to recoil. "Tell me what that plague was."
Despite the pain, a flicker of pride entered Muur's voice. "My legacy."
"That grotesque transformation is a legacy?" one of the Zealots scoffed.
"I dedicated my life to conquering death itself, to seizing control of the galaxy," Muur declared.
Kaecilius spat on the ground. "By turning living beings into mindless puppets."
"Perfection is an illusion," Muur's essence seemed to shrug. "It was my preferred method for achieving immortality."
"You strip the living of their will," another acolyte accused.
"As if you have a superior path to eternal life," Muur shot back, unfazed.
"I do," Kaecilius stated simply.
"What?"
"But after the chaos you have unleashed, you are unworthy of learning it." With a final, vicious application of power, Kaecilius silenced the Sith Lord completely, leaving him to fume in his mystical prison.
Muur was consumed by a hatred more intense than any he had felt in centuries. Fine, he thought, his spirit seething. So be it. I will watch from this cage as your ambition consumes you. I will find another way.
He could be patient. He was a ghost, after all. He wasn't going to die again anytime soon.
"You know, I thought I had the whole 'weird' thing categorized," Bucky commented, leaning back in his chair at a large, circular table in the heart of Kamar-Taj. "You got your androids, your aliens, and your wizards. The Big Three. But I think alien mutant space zombies officially deserve their own category."
"The Big Three?" a young sorcerer, new to these high-level meetings, asked with a bewildered look.
"He means technology, extraterrestrials, and magic," Celeste clarified for him, a wry smile on her face. "And considering the history of escalating conflicts on this planet, he's not wrong."
"Then where does Mr. Reyes fit into that?" Karl Mordo asked from his seat, his expression stern and focused.
"He is a special case," the Ancient One answered, her voice echoing softly in the chamber. She sat at the head of the table, flanked by her most trusted followers: Mordo, the stoic librarian Wong, and the three Masters of the Sanctums.
"Are we really talking about me like I'm not here?" Robbie Reyes asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"Pretty much," Bucky shrugged. "Alien zombies are one thing, but you..."
The Ancient One cleared her throat, silencing the chatter and turning her calm, knowing eyes to Robbie. "Tell us, Mr. Reyes, what brings you to London? The last I was aware, you were in the Americas."
"I've been doing a lot of traveling lately," Robbie said vaguely. "Not exactly by choice."
"Zarathos has never been one to be… tolerant of his host's itinerary," the Sorcerer Supreme noted with a faint sigh.
"Wait, you actually know what this thing inside me is?" Robbie asked, leaning forward, his interest piqued.
The Ancient One nodded. "I have encountered the Spirit of Vengeance many times, as did the Sorcerer Supreme before me, and the one before him."
"He seems to know this place," Robbie mused, looking around the grand hall. "You should have heard the bastard laughing his head off when we got here. For all his faults, his instincts are good. A little confusing sometimes, but good."
"I would prefer not to witness an example of that confusion firsthand," muttered Daniel Drumm, the Master of the New York Sanctum.
"Agreed," added Sol Rama, the Master of the London Sanctum.
The three Sanctums, New York, London, and Hong Kong, were the planet's mystical shield, fortresses designed to protect this reality from extra-dimensional threats. All were mystically linked to Kamar-Taj, allowing for faster-than-portal travel between them. Their Masters had been summoned here to address the dual threats of Kaecilius's rebellion and the horrifying rediscovery of the Amulet of Muur. And now, the Rakghoul plague.
"Alright, let's focus," Celeste said, her tone shifting into that of a commander briefing her troops. "The Amulet of Muur has been stolen. Bucky and the Ancient One saw what its plague does to living creatures. It spreads fast, it's violent, and the only known counter-measure is orbital bombardment. I'm assuming none of you are willing to sign off on that."
A series of grim headshakes was all the answer she needed.
"So, we have to stay on high alert and track down Kaecilius and that amulet, fast," she concluded.
"The Sanctums are always on high alert," Wong stated, his voice a low rumble. "I will have every student capable of scrying begin the search."
"Whoa, hold on," Bucky interjected, frowning. "What about Kaecilius? He's the guy who took it. Shouldn't we be hunting him? After seeing what that thing did to his own man, I can't imagine he's eager to hang onto it."
"Kaecilius will come to us," the Ancient One said with unshakeable certainty. "Whether he still possesses the amulet when he does remains to be seen."
"Left on its own, the Rakghoul Plague is more than capable of spreading," Celeste pointed out grimly. "Even with the amulet contained, Muur's spirit could subconsciously influence someone to unleash it."
"Do you believe Kaecilius would intentionally spread this plague?" asked Sol Rama.
"The fact that he ran instead of helping us contain it tells me he's willing to risk it," Celeste replied.
Bucky rubbed his chin, replaying the chaotic scene in his mind. "It had to be a spur-of-the-moment decision. He looked just as shocked as we were when his acolyte turned."
"A desperate gambit that cost him dearly, but ultimately succeeded in his escape," Mordo concluded.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
"There's still one thing I don't get," Bucky said, breaking the quiet. All eyes turned to him. He looked directly at Robbie. "Why are you in London? The Sorcerer Supreme said you were in America. How the hell did you get here?"
Robbie took a slow breath, composing himself. "The spirit… Zarathos. He sensed a dark presence some time ago," he explained, his voice low. "A presence soaked in the blood of innocents. It moved across Europe for months, and then, a while back, it just... vanished from his senses."
Celeste's eyes widened in sudden understanding. She subconsciously brought a hand to her neck, to the spot where the amulet had once rested. Bucky saw the motion and reached across the table, gently taking her other hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Wong cleared his throat, bringing them back to the present. "We cannot afford to waste time. A warning spell must be cast over the cities where the Sanctums reside. Kaecilius will undoubtedly target them."
"Then we will begin fortifying the Sanctums at once," the Ancient One declared, rising from her chair. "We must remain vigilant for any report of this plague, anywhere in the world. We will not allow the innocent to suffer such a fate. We are adjourned."
As the Masters departed to their respective Sanctums, the Ancient One approached Mordo. "I am entrusting Kamar-Taj to you, Master Mordo." She placed a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded respectfully. "It will be done, Master."
She gave him a small, rare smile before turning to Celeste and Bucky. "Celeste, I know your desire is to hunt Muur, but for now, I need you to assist Mordo in fortifying Kamar-Taj. It will be a valuable part of your training."
Celeste opened her mouth to argue, but met the Ancient One's gaze and nodded in acceptance.
"Do not worry," the Ancient One assured her. "When the task is complete, you, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Reyes will hunt for the amulet. If anyone can find it, it is you three."
The Jedi nodded gratefully and gave Bucky a quick peck on the cheek before moving to join Mordo.
Soon, only Bucky and Robbie remained in the now-empty hall, an awkward silence hanging between them. Bucky studied the younger man, who seemed to have grown pale.
"You okay, Robbie?" Bucky asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm... fine," Robbie stammered, his gaze distant. "It's not me. It's him."
"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, confused. "How's he affecting you now?"
Robbie shook his head, his breathing growing heavier. "He's not telling me anything," he said, his voice dropping, raw and strained. "He's making me feel it." He finally looked up, his eyes filled with a tormented darkness that chilled Bucky to the bone.
Bucky knew he was going to regret the question, but he had to ask. "Feel what?"
A grim, haunted look consumed Robbie's face.
"He feels… every soul stained by the blood of the innocent."
The words struck Bucky with the force of a physical blow. In that instant, he was the Winter Soldier again. The cold of the cryo-chamber, the weight of the rifle, the faces of countless targets flashing before his eyes. The air left his lungs, and a fear more profound than any he had felt since his deprogramming washed over him.
He stood frozen, watching as Robbie turned and walked away.
A violent tremor ran through Bucky's body, the metal plates of his arm creaking with the tension. He blindly reached for a nearby chair, sinking into it as his strength gave out. He covered his face with his hands, and in the silence of the great hall, a silent tear traced a path down his cheek.
Miles away, just as she was about to step outside the gates of Kamar-Taj, Celeste froze. A sudden, sharp pang of anguish echoed through the Force, so clear and cold it stole her breath. It was a pain she knew intimately.
"Bucky." The name was a whisper in her mind as she pressed a hand to her chest.
"Celeste?"
She blinked, turning to find Mordo waiting, a question in his eyes. "Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Oh, uh... yes," she stammered, quickly composing herself. "Yes, Master Mordo. Let's go."
Mordo studied her for a moment longer before giving a slow nod. Together, they stepped out into the bustling streets of Kathmandu.
"What is the plan, Master?" Celeste asked immediately, eager for the distraction of a mission. "How far apart do these mystical wards need to be?"
"Every few kilometers," he replied.
"That will take some time."
A rare smile touched Mordo's lips. "Do not worry about the journey, Celeste. I know every alley and rooftop in this city. Just try to keep up."
Celeste simply nodded, and the two sorcerers began their work.
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