Herman's attitude carried a hint of arrogance. It was hard to believe there wasn't some personal grudge mixed in. He still felt a trace of anger toward the Sorcerer Supreme of the future timeline, The Ancient One, for exiling him.
If that Sorcerer Supreme hadn't already paid with her life, Herman's first move after arriving in this timeline would probably have been to march straight to Kamar-Taj. Of course, after defeating the future Ancient One, much of that anger had already faded.
Though he'd been cast beyond the Void and now had to endure life in a past timeline, The Ancient One of the future was dead after all. Herman was a reasonable man; he wasn't some fan-crazed idol worshiper without humanity.
"Seriously, no one's going to open the door for me?"
He knocked several times, but no one answered from within the Sanctum. His patience, it seemed, had run dry.
Then—
Boom!
With a sharp push, the locked doors exploded into dust, golden energy streaming rapidly through the air.
Clearly, the front doors of the New York Sanctum were sealed with a magic lock. Such locks might stop competent sorcerers or mundane thieves, but before Herman, they were nothing.
"Not very sturdy."
Curling his lip, Herman stepped into the ancient structure. The interior was dozens of times larger than it appeared from the outside.
The grand hall gleamed with gold and jade tones. Mysterious, ancient murals lined the walls, and the bottles and jars scattered about looked centuries old. The entire hall stretched nearly a thousand square meters—completely inconsistent with the building's outward size.
If someone said this was a palace or castle, few would doubt it. Clearly, some kind of spatial magic—something like a Undetectable Extension Charml—was in effect.
Herman mused that if Kamar-Taj ever used this kind of magic in real estate, it could become the world's biggest property company in under a year.
"Anyone here? If not, I'll just make myself at home."
He called out twice but sensed no sign of life within the sanctum. The place was vast and silent, alive only with the pulse of magic.
Though he didn't know much about sorcery, Herman could feel it—beneath the sanctum ran a powerful magical network connecting the entire Earth.
It was like Agamotto had woven a great web across the planet, with Kamar-Taj's three sanctums forming the key nodes.
"So this is basically another kind of dragon vein," he murmured, tracing the flow of energy below. He realized this network didn't just allow one to observe hidden happenings around the globe—it could even influence the world's climate and geography.
There was no denying it.
Agamotto's craftsmanship was extraordinary.
"No one really coming to stop me?"
Herman moved to the deepest chamber of the sanctum—a stone-built inner room that exuded ancient weight.
At its center stood a massive stone platform, serving as the control console for the entire magical network.
He stepped onto it, and as a glowing command orb floated before him, he instinctively linked it to Kamar-Taj's global network. It required no special technique or complex ritual.
Anyone familiar with energy manipulation could figure it out. It was like an Android user trying an iPhone for the first time—after a few minutes of poking around, they'd understand how it worked.
Different energies, same logic.
For some reason, the New York Sanctum's console didn't even have the slightest bit of encryption.
All it took was stepping onto the platform to activate it. Maybe Kamar-Taj's sorcerers had such faith in their magic that they thought no one could breach the locks—or maybe they'd simply never considered someone else might use the console.
Herman thought it over.
Knowing how cautious the Sorcerer Supreme's line tended to be, the latter seemed unlikely. More probably, the last person who used it had left in a hurry, not bothering to re-lock it.
To be honest, the entire New York Sanctum being completely deserted was far from normal. According to Kamar-Taj's rules, there should have been at least one senior sorcerer stationed here... And yet, even after accessing the console, the Sorcerer Supreme still hadn't shown up to stop him?
While linking the Sanctum's console to Earth, Herman also observed its surroundings. Indeed, not a single sorcerer had teleported in. Combined with the eerie emptiness of the place, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.
Could it be that The Ancient One knew he was coming—and realizing she couldn't defeat him—fled ahead of time with the others?
"Hard to say... It's possible this timeline's Ancient One has communicated with her future self. People who like to toy with time aren't exactly bound by common sense," Herman muttered under his breath.
Of course, that was as far as his speculation went. He didn't particularly care why the Sorcerer Supreme hadn't appeared. Having no one interrupt him while using the New York Sanctum's magical network suited him just fine. The last thing he wanted was to kill the current Ancient One and trigger a temporal fracture or paradox.
In truth, when he came to the New York Sanctum, Herman had already considered the possibility of meeting The Ancient One. His main goal was to understand why the Ancient One of the future had lost her soul, and why her soulless body had gone to such lengths to attack him.
Secondly, he was wary of the potential for another confrontation. Not because he feared a Sky Father–level Ancient One, but because killing the past version here could create something like a time paradox.
After all, Herman's exile into the current timeline had been caused entirely by the soulless Ancient One of the future attacking him. If the Ancient One of the past were killed ahead of time, then naturally, her future self would never exist.
Without that attack, Herman wouldn't have been exiled—and if he hadn't been exiled, then the Ancient One of the past wouldn't have met her fate either.
It was complicated. Head-spinning, even.
Even though Herman possessed temporal uniqueness and wouldn't personally suffer from such paradoxes, the Marvel Universe itself might very well crash like a buggy program.
In that case, the changes wouldn't just be minor tweaks to history. To put it bluntly, if Herman had known the Sorcerer Supreme was already dead when he arrived in this universe, he wouldn't have wasted so many brain cells overthinking such uncertain possibilities.
With The Ancient One's sudden death, the emptiness of the New York Sanctum made perfect sense—Kamar-Taj must be in total chaos.
"This magical network... it's like connecting nerves to the Earth itself, becoming a part of it. Magic truly is a wondrous tool."
Still, the current situation—where he didn't have to deal with The Ancient One—was ideal in Herman's eyes.
He controlled the New York Sanctum's network and began scanning the hidden layers of Earth. Many things that had once been beyond his perception now unfolded before his eyes, including even the seal containing the Aether.
"This isn't what I'm looking for..." Herman continued searching through the countless secrets buried across the planet, gradually sensing the faint presence of that particular object.
…
While Herman was searching the globe's hidden secrets...
In southeastern Norway, in a remote town called Tønsberg, HYDRA's forces were still attempting to decipher the massive bronze doors deep within a vast underground palace. Groups of experts and scholars gathered before the doors, engaged in tense discussion and analysis.
"I don't want to hear that it's broken. Hurry it up... The leader isn't patient, and neither am I."
The cold-eyed officer had somehow procured a table for himself, covered with food scavenged from the nearby town. After issuing his warning to the scholars, he took a bite of ham, only to spit it out in disgust.
"What a backwater place! Absolutely inedible!"
He cast a disdainful look at the table's otherwise plentiful spread. Frowning, he gestured for his subordinates to dump the food and instead helped himself to some fresh nuts and fruit.
"I can't say what's going on with the gate," he muttered, "but these murals... it's like they're telling some long-buried history."
While some focused on deciphering the bronze doors, others studied the temple's murals. Everyone had their own area of expertise, and the cold-eyed officer made no effort to stop those examining the walls. If the scientists or scholars managed to uncover something extraordinary from the murals, he could always claim credit before his superiors back at headquarters.
"What do they say?"
Growing impatient waiting on the gate team, the officer turned toward the expert studying the murals, curious enough to ask.
When boredom sets in, after all, listening to a story isn't the worst way to pass the time.
"Deciphering it right now is impossible," the mural expert replied with confidence, "but this is clearly tied to some form of religion. And the things depicted here—without question—relate to gods."
He examined the strange, intricate designs on the walls. Among the patterns, he'd already identified numerous depictions of divine figures. On one particular section, he had counted at least seven or eight pairs of wings.
"Christianity? No, no... this seems much older. These wings... could they be angels from myth?" he murmured to himself.
"All I see are a few grotesque creatures you've sketched out. How are those supposed to be beautiful angels? No hair, no backsides—yet you call them angels?"
The cold-hearted officer, disappointed at the lack of a captivating tale, sneered openly at the mural expert. He clearly held no reverence for religion—unsurprising, given he was the kind of officer who plundered tombs rather than prayed in temples.
"Sir... while you and mighty HYDRA are indeed powerful, in a place as mysterious as this, perhaps we should show a little respect for myths and legends. Truth be told, real angels are exactly as hideous as these."
The mural expert spoke carefully, gently reminding the officer while correcting his misconception about angels. It took some courage—after all, the same officer had executed another scholar earlier that day over something trivial.
"Doctor, I don't need a lecture. Just do your job."
This time, the cold-eyed officer didn't draw his gun at the speaking expert. He wasn't the type to kill indiscriminately—he simply used expendable scholars as examples when they lacked sufficient value.
As for veteran researchers like the mural expert, whose professional reputation was globally recognized, such people couldn't be treated as disposable.
"I'm only concerned there may be taboos in some of these areas," the mural expert replied quietly. "You know as well as I do—our research involves forces beyond understanding."
He sighed, realizing it was pointless to reason with a proud HYDRA officer.
"Hah! There are no gods in this world," the officer sneered. "Let me tell you something—once, many in HYDRA used to worship a so-called god."
"And guess what? That pathetic thing got itself killed out in space. It was nothing more than a creature with unusual powers."
A cold grin twisted across the officer's face as he shared this hidden piece of HYDRA's history with the assembled scholars—a story of its long-forgotten faith.
If Herman had been there, he would have recognized the "god" mentioned as none other than HYDRA's experimental creation: the Hive—a parasitic collective capable of retaining its hosts' memories and experiences.
The creature's appearance resembled that of an octopus-headed monster, terrifying enough that HYDRA's lower ranks once revered it as a deity. Only the organization's upper circle knew the truth: Hive was merely a failed experiment.
The officer overseeing the excavation was clearly one of those higher-ranking insiders, though he didn't realize that Hive remained imprisoned on the moon.
Still, his assessment wasn't entirely wrong—he had captured the essence of the extraordinary: superhuman beings were, at their core, simply stronger lifeforms.
"A living god in HYDRA?" murmured the elderly professor studying the murals, disbelief etched across his face. Before he could ask further...
Clank, clank, clank—
The sound of ancient mechanisms echoed through the grand hall.
"It's activating! It's activating!"
No one knew what the researchers at the bronze gate had done, but the once-stiff reliefs began to tremble and shift, clattering as they came to life.
Before the onlookers' eyes, the chaotic carvings twisted and merged into a single, towering humanoid figure that radiated an overwhelming aura of majesty.
"A god! This must be a god!"
"My god... we've found something that will change the world!"
Several of the scholars fell to their knees, overcome by an invisible pressure. From the humanoid image, they felt a presence so commanding that it compelled them to bow, as if a voice was whispering directly into their minds—kneel, worship.
"What's happening?!"
The cold-eyed officer shot to his feet, struggling against the voice echoing in his ears. His eyes locked onto the carving on the bronze gate—a humanoid figure whose back rippled with countless flowing lines that resembled wings, spreading outward as if they would engulf the entire hall.
He only glanced once before his eyes began to burn painfully, a sharp agony warning him that another second of staring might make them burst.
"This is it... this is the supernatural entity we were looking for!"
A mix of terror and exhilaration surged through him. He wasn't a fool—he quickly averted his gaze, lowering his head and refusing to look again.
And then—
Rumble...
The bronze doors, now fully shaped by the completed design, split open with a thunderous crash. A flood of brilliant white light poured out, washing over the entire underground hall, covering everything in blinding radiance.
"That is..."