Stephen Strange, the “Superhero” decided to contact Batman first.

Among the two most famous superhero organizations in the world—the Justice League, centered around Superman and Batman, and the Avengers, led by Iron Man and Captain America—the former is a private organization, while the latter enjoys official support and has the authority to execute criminals.

They often collaborate on planet-threatening events but tend to keep their jurisdictions separate. For instance, everyone agrees that Gotham belongs to Batman. Unless a major catastrophe occurs, the Avengers are unlikely to intervene outside their territory.

Now, Stephen suspected he was dealing with something big. Had it not been for the mysterious figures in New York alerting him, even he wouldn’t have noticed that the entire city of Gotham had fallen under some kind of veil. The Sorcerer Supreme was deeply troubled. Instinctively, he raised his hand to open a portal for teleportation but stopped midway. Instead, he pulled out his phone, planning to contact the Avengers and let Iron Man notify Batman.

…Because he didn’t have Batman’s private number.

However, his call didn’t go through. His phone was perfectly functional—he could even read Gotham’s local news with no delays—but any attempt to call outside the city failed. Then, to his shock, his entire contact list disappeared within seconds. All his contacts outside Gotham were simply gone.

“This barrier can even manipulate electronic devices?”

Have the dark gods embraced modern technology?

No. Stephen suddenly realized… Could this all be an illusion? If the interference truly extended to electronic devices, he shouldn’t even be able to read Gotham’s news. More likely, the phone was intact, and the network was functional, but he himself was trapped in an illusion. Even if he dialed successfully, he wouldn’t hear a response—like being isolated on an island.

A gargoyle circled above him briefly before flying away, unconcerned about leaving a Sorcerer Supreme stranded on the street.

Stephen landed hurriedly and stopped a woman walking by. “Excuse me, ma’am, can you help me make a phone call? My phone’s out of credit.”

Perhaps his disheveled sorcerer’s outfit lent his words a hint of credibility. The woman pulled out her phone and asked, “What number?”

Stephen quickly recited the Avengers’ public emergency hotline, akin to 911.

The woman’s mouth twitched as she gave him a suspicious look, clutching her purse tightly as she walked away. “…What a nutcase.”

She probably thought Stephen was either joking or one of those annoying YouTubers filming people’s reactions for clout.

Stephen: “…”

He tried again, stopping another passerby. “Excuse me, could you check if you can see Iron Man’s latest tweet on my phone?”

“Of course I can.” The young man gave him a cold glance. “Are your eyes broken?”

From the airport to the hospital, after numerous attempts, Stephen concluded that Gotham appeared completely normal to everyone else. Only he saw it differently.

…He began to question the motives of those mysterious figures in New York.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Stephen entered the Wayne-funded hospital. The facility was vast, with a towering 17-story main building and seven auxiliary wings. Standing in the lobby, he realized the invitation hadn’t specified a particular location. However, if the one controlling the gargoyles wanted him there, they’d surely make contact.

Stephen Strange was ready for battle!

The elevator doors opened in the lobby ahead, and an invisible light swept outward, clearing every trace of darkness from the space.

Stephen had only ever seen such an effect during an exorcism conducted by a saint in Italy. Though he sensed Gotham’s mystery wasn’t demonic but a different kind of mysticism, he steeled himself.

He looked up just as a nurse greeted the elegant blonde stepping out of the elevator. “Good afternoon, Madam Mayor!”

Gotham’s mayor… From his research before coming, Stephen recalled her name: Anna Alek.

The mayor greeted others with nods, but when Stephen approached, she grabbed his wrist without hesitation. “Doctor, I’ve been waiting for you. Come with me.”

They stepped into the elevator, where the mayor quickly summarized the South Hinkley incident. As the doors opened to their destination, she asked, “Can your magic heal their injuries?”

“I can, but…”

Before he could finish, the mayor cut him off with a confident smile. “No buts, Doctor. I believe you can do it.”

Stephen: “…”

As she seemed ready to whisk him away to treat patients without a moment’s delay, Stephen stopped her. He raised his hands and spoke firmly. “Look at my hands.”

They appeared normal—elegantly slender and steady. Yet, these same hands had suffered pulverizing fractures in a car accident years ago. Though magic masked their condition, Stephen allowed the illusion to fade. His hands trembled faintly.

“Treating these patients requires two options,” he began gravely.

The warmth radiating from the mayor’s presence made it easy to trust her. It felt like a protective shield, driving away the pervasive darkness of Gotham. And what he was about to reveal wasn’t a secret.

“My magic stems from the Vishanti—three ancient Earth deities. If anyone among them has an innate magical talent, I can use it to restore physical mobility. But this isn’t healing. It involves embedding magic within their bodies, requiring them to continuously channel that energy to maintain control…”

The woman before him caught on quickly: “So you’re saying that once this power fades, the patient’s body will revert to its original state?”

Among the patients were many who had suffered lifelong disabilities due to fractures. She understood what he meant.

“And even if someone has the aptitude, they’d need extensive training to master magic.”

“The second option is,” Stephen hesitated for a moment, “I can manipulate time, as you probably know. But unless absolutely necessary, I avoid reversing time—it could create new parallel timelines.”

Mayor Alek appeared somewhat disappointed but nodded in understanding. “For me, saving even one person is always necessary. But I understand your reasoning—this responsibility shouldn’t fall on you alone.”

Through her secondary character, Vivi grasped what the Doctor was implying: the first solution wouldn’t work for those without magical talent, and even then, years of training were required—years these patients didn’t have. The second option was best reserved for citywide emergencies.

Fine. If her [Dozed Off] one-use item was only silver-grade, it made sense that a gleaming gold-tier Doctor couldn’t have limitless magic healing powers. Not holding out much hope, Vivi quietly asked, “Doctor… do you have any other skills that might help here?”

The man in front of her, suppressing his frustration, replied evenly, “Before my hands were injured, I was one of the best neurosurgeons.”

Her avatar’s gaze dropped to his hands. “…But it’s been a while since you last operated, hasn’t it?”

“Neurosurgery requires incredibly precise hand control. Using magic to steady my hands demands absolute focus,” the man said, tilting his head slightly. “And given the constant vigilance required to fend off dark forces, I’ve admittedly… well, I haven’t been in an operating room in a while.”

The idea of being attacked by dark entities mid-surgery and dying as a result seemed laughable, especially in a place as perilous as Gotham. He wasn’t just a doctor here—he was a combatant, and it was clear he couldn’t fulfill the grand expectations of the woman before him. However…

“Why don’t you—” He was about to suggest she use her own innate power—she radiated a sanctified energy similar to his own, suggesting a natural affinity for light-based healing magic—but the mayor clapped her hands together with excitement.

“So you’re saying you’re still a skilled neurosurgeon!”

The way she said it felt as though she were exclaiming, “Oh, so you can feed yourself after all—you’re not incompetent!”

Stephen: “…”

He swallowed his frustration.

“Well then, would you be willing to stay on as a teacher? Train others? I promise they might not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they’re eager to learn. And their hands are as steady as you could hope for when wielding a scalpel!”

Stephen: “I don’t think I’m exactly…” free for that!

Mayor: “We’ll pay you.”

“…I suppose I could meet the students first,” he relented.

The mayor, however, seemed to take this as an outright agreement. Delighted, she contacted the hospital director, arranging a fully equipped teaching lab and even assigning him an official role within the hospital before he could protest.

Everyone else acted as though this were perfectly routine—clearly, Mayor Anna Alek’s decisive ways were well-known.

After seeing everyone else out, she opened the balcony doors to the lab.

Standing in the quiet night breeze, Stephen suddenly realized something.

The mayor had never asked his name. Who had actually summoned him to Gotham? Who had sent the gargoyle?

He whipped around—

One, two, three… nine gargoyles filed through the balcony door, one after another, perching themselves in the lab.

The Sorcerer Supreme stared at the ominous creatures exuding a menacing aura. Slowly, a mental question mark formed above his head.

He had his answer.

The gargoyles varied in size, some towering as tall as Stephen himself, others squat and hefty, barely reaching his waist. Most had three talons. One particularly pudgy one lounged lazily in a corner.

Stephen, unsure of how to interpret the scene, spoke hesitantly: “Surely these gargoyles aren’t my… students?”

Vivi, using her secondary avatar, replied calmly, “Of course they are. Stone carvings never get shaky hands. Since I wasn’t sure which size would be best, I brought a variety. Once you’ve taught them, you can decide which size works best, and I’ll replace the rest.”

Because of the serene, protective glow radiating from the mayor, the gargoyles didn’t seem menacing to Stephen anymore. Instead, they appeared like ordinary statues. Ordinary statues that were currently staring at him.

Stephen’s lips twitched. He glanced at the time, wondering if midnight work sessions were just normal in Gotham. Tentatively, he asked, “Mayor Alek, have you heard of someone named ‘Vivi White’? She’s who I came here to find.”

This was the contact the mysterious figures in New York had mentioned. To solve Gotham’s dark anomalies, finding her was crucial.

He added, trying to sidestep his newfound task, “If needed, I can also see the patients.”

But he doubted the mayor understood his true intent, because her cheerful reply was, “Vivi? She’s in the ward. You can see the patients before your lesson.”

Stephen suddenly felt that the paycheck he hadn’t even received yet was starting to feel uncomfortably hot in his hands. This woman—did she even know the meaning of words like “eat,” “sleep,” or “rest”?

He decided to chalk it all up to the fact that “people aligned with holy light” always seemed… a little off.

After all, the ones he’d met or heard about had all been far from ordinary.

Mayor Anna Alek cheerfully led Stephen forward. The patient floor was restricted to outsiders, but as the mayor, she had access. When the hospital room door opened, Stephen’s Cloak of Levitation quivered slightly, as if sensing something.

The darkness in the room engulfed him. In that moment, Stephen realized his own shadow seemed to grow darker, heavier. He felt the oppressive blackness pressing on him, and for a brief instant, it seemed as though the darkness itself glanced in his direction.

“…I’ve been noticed,” the thought flashed through his mind.

Yet Anna Alek appeared entirely unbothered. She walked straight toward a specific point in the room. The light radiating from her warped under the crushing weight of the shadows, but it still faintly illuminated her surroundings. She reached into the center of the darkness and grasped someone’s hand. Turning back, she seemed puzzled as to why Stephen hadn’t followed.

“Don’t forget to close the door,” she said softly.

Hospital room. Yes, he could hear the sound of patients breathing.

Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, took a deep breath and began to move forward. Then—wham!—his knee struck a stool sitting near the doorway.

Stephen: “…”

He raised a hand, blindly feeling along the wall as he tried to make his way forward.

Meanwhile, Vivi, holding hands with her secondary character, tilted her head in confusion. A single thought floated through her mind:

“?”

This doctor… why did he suddenly seem blind halfway into the room?

…Can he really be trusted?