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The next morning.
Hawk drove Gwen to 177A Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village.
Gwen sat in the passenger seat, wearing an adorable knit beanie, looking completely lost.
She stared out the window at the towering Victorian-era brick building, then at the pedestrians on the street who seed completely oblivious to its existence. Finally, she turned to Hawk as he pulled the parking brake.
"Aren't we supposed to be going to the airport?"
"This way's faster."
Hawk smiled faintly.
If he hadn't confird that his curse only affected him when leaving New York via public transportation, he would've happily taken a normal flight to Nepal with Gwen.
A Christmas trip.
But—
Who knew what kind of disaster would strike if they actually got on a plane to Nepal?
Better safe than sorry.
Besides, if there was a faster way to reach Kamar-Taj, why take the slow route?
Most importantly, If the Sorcerer Supre didn't want to see him, he'd know the mont he tried to enter the New York Sanctum. No point flying all the way to Nepal just to get turned away.
Hawk pushed the thought aside, got out of the car, and took Gwen's hand. Together, they walked up to the door of 177A—a door the crowd around them seed incapable of noticing—and knocked.
The iron knocker rang out, clear and lodic.
Soon, the heavy double doors swung open. Standing before them was a middle-aged man in deep yellow robes, his face eerily reminiscent of Hannibal Lecter.
Kaecilius.
The current guardian of the New York Sanctum.
He didn't seem surprised to see Hawk. His gaze lingered on him for a mont, then he stepped aside and gestured inward.
"Thank you."
Hawk nodded his thanks. He wasn't surprised either. If the Ancient One didn't want to see him, he probably wouldn't have even been able to knock on the door. Of course. Not being able to knock didn't an he couldn't break in.
Gwen stepped inside, and her eyes went wide.
Floating candles.
Self-turning books.
Levitating artifacts.
The interior of the Sanctum was impossibly tall, its high ceiling and grand spiral staircase completely at odds with the building's exterior. Mystical relics were everywhere, filling the air with a quiet, ancient power.
But that wasn't what stunned her most.
Kaecilius, after Hawk and Gwen had entered, began forming gestures with both hands. His left hand traced circles in the air, and sparks of golden light flickered at his fingertips. The sparks connected, forming a ring—a portal of fire that materialized right in front of them.
Gwen's eyes went even wider as she stared at the scene on the other side.
A grand hall, serene and ancient, filled with an air of quiet reverence.
Kaecilius finished the spell, holding the portal open with one hand. He turned to Hawk and spoke his first words since they'd arrived.
"The Sorcerer Supre is waiting."
"Thank you."
Hawk's expression was calm as he glanced at the shimring gateway. He looked back at Kaecilius, offered another quiet thanks, then turned to Gwen. "Let's go."
Gwen snapped out of her daze and nodded, gripping his hand tightly.
Imdiately after, Hawk stepped through first, Gwen right behind him. One step, and they left New York, erging on the other side in the Kamar-Taj monastery, hidden sowhere deep in the Himalayas near Kathmandu, Nepal.
.....
The mont they crossed the threshold, the portal closed behind them.
Gwen instinctively looked back, then froze.
A figure stood a short distance away.
Hawk turned as well.
Before them stood a woman whose presence radiated an otherworldly calm. She was draped in white robes, her head shaved, her expression serene. But her eyes—deep and knowing—seed to hold the wisdom of countless lifetis, along with a faint, almost imperceptible weariness.
The Ancient One.
Hawk greeted her first, inclining his head respectfully.
"Sorcerer Supre."
"Phoenix."
"..."
Gwen, standing beside him, blinked in surprise as the Ancient One addressed Hawk by the surna they'd only just decided on a few days ago. She didn't say anything, but her curiosity was written all over her face as she looked between them.
Hawk wasn't fazed. He just smiled.
"I haven't decided if I'm using that na yet."
"You will."
The Ancient One's expression remained peaceful as she gestured toward a low tea table nearby. "You've co a long way. Tea?"
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
"Sure."
"Please."
"After you, Sorcerer Supre."
When you're asking soone for a favor, manners matter. Even if the answer is no, at least you'll part on good terms.
The Ancient One didn't press. She simply smiled, took a single step forward—and was suddenly seated at the tea table.
Hawk led Gwen over, and they sat cross-legged across from her, mirroring her posture.
The Ancient One, her white robes flowing gracefully, began to prepare the tea. Her movents were fluid, ditative—each gesture precise and unhurried, as if the act itself were a form of art.
Soon, two cups of clear, steaming tea were placed before Hawk and Gwen.
The Ancient One gestured.
"Please."
"Thank you." Hawk picked up his cup, took a sip, savored the taste, then drained it in one smooth motion.
"Good tea."
"It's delicious."
Gwen took a sip as well, her eyes lighting up. She'd never tasted tea this good in her life.
The Ancient One smiled faintly. "Freshly picked from the garden last month. Perfect for those who've had too much to drink. It cleanses the palate... and purges toxins."
Gwen blinked.
Hawk's expression shifted. His eyes sharpened as he looked at the Ancient One. "The wine phisto gave —there was sothing in it?"
Gwen's gaze snapped to Hawk.
Hawk gently squeezed her hand.
She opened her mouth to speak, then swallowed the words and stayed silent.
Hawk frowned, thinking back to the bar on the edge of life and death—to the drinks phisto had poured for him in that Hell Bar, and the ones he'd offered back in New York. "phisto's wine was good. I could feel it—my soul got stronger."
He couldn't say for certain whether there were side effects, but he was sure of one thing: the wine had genuinely enhanced his soul.
The Ancient One refilled his cup, her tone calm. "Soul wine from Hell does strengthen the soul. But until it's fully absorbed, the drinker's soul remains tethered to Hell. That's how phisto once lured Odin himself into his Domain as a 'Guest.'"
"..." Hawk's jaw tightened.
'Well, I'll be damned!!'
'phisto really doesn't do a single honest thing.'
Hawk's mind raced as the Ancient One's explanation clicked into place.
phisto had baited him with wine that genuinely worked—just like he'd said. But as long as Hawk hadn't fully absorbed it, his soul was marked. If he died—even if he was reborn through the Phoenix—he wouldn't return to the edge of life and death.
He'd go straight to Hell.
And once he was there, it would be phisto's ho turf.
Hawk might one day surpass Odin. But right now? Even the aging All-Father could wipe the floor with him.
So—
When Odin had been tricked into Hell, it had been called "being a guest."
If Hawk fell for the sa trap, it would be called "ga over."
The realization settled over him like ice water.
Hawk let out a short, bitter laugh. "Demons. You really can't trust a single word they say..."
The Ancient One poured more tea for both of them, her gaze lifting briefly to et his.
"And yet, you didn't fall for it."
"I guessed phisto was after my soul. I just didn't know how he planned to guarantee it would end up in Hell. Now I do. Thanks to you." Hawk shook his head, then lifted his cup and drained it.
He was about to speak again when Gwen, sitting beside him, wordlessly offered him her own cup.
He paused, about to take it—
The Ancient One's voice was gentle.
"Your tea is different from hers."
Gwen blinked, looking down at her cup, then at the teapot. "But... didn't it all co from the sa pot?"
The Ancient One shook her head. "The tea poured one second ago and the tea poured the next are, conceptually, two entirely different things."
Gwen stared at her for a mont, then slowly nodded, as if she understood. Sort of...
Hawk, however, looked at the Ancient One with a more pointed question.
"So, now that I've had the tea, phisto's wine is neutralized?"
The Ancient One's expression remained serene.
"Tea cures all poisons."
Hawk let out a breath, satisfied. He didn't press the issue further. Instead, he shifted gears, his tone turning curious.
"One more thing. Blackheart tried to team up with the four Elental Demons to create a new Hell dinsion. You weren't worried he'd actually pull it off?"
The Ancient One finished pouring the tea, set the pot aside, and returned to her seat. Her answer was simple.
"You dealt with it, didn't you?"
"..." Hawk was silent for a mont. Then he nodded. "Fair point."
What else could he say? Accuse her of cheating?
Hardly. If he did that now, what would happen when he asked to borrow the Ti Stone? She'd probably just tell him he was the one trying to cheat.
Well, that would be awkward.
So, treat others the way you want to be treated.
Hawk filed the thought away and decided to stop beating around the bush. He looked the Ancient One directly in the eye.
"Sorcerer Supre. I'd like to borrow the Ti Stone."
The Ancient One: "..."
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