Dr. Strange’s Love

Clea shook her head. "I can't, mother. I'm sorry. You have to go now," she said slowly, with a sated smile on her lovely face.

"What? Don't be ridiculous—we'll rule this plane together. It and so many more; the whole multiverse!"

"No, mother. It's time for you to go," Clea reiterated. Her voice was firm now, and her eyes sharpened.

Umar looked down at her body. The pattern Bruton's come had formed on her was not random. It was a banishment sigil.

"Ungrateful child--!" Umar began, but it was too late. The magic Clea had somehow conjured, the magic that allowed her to walk the Earth, was already being dispelled.

"Goodbye, mother," Clea said, long after she was gone. "It was nice seeing you."

***

In the heights of the Dark Dimension, above rivers of blood and forests of bone, Umar sat on a throne of hatred. Her scheme had failed. Her revenge had been foiled. The Earth remained outside her grasp, still protected by the pitiful Dr. Strange.

But on the bright side, it was the best weekend she'd had in ages.