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Uttering a single word, Magik drifted upwards into the sky. Her blonde hair blew gracefully behind her as her Soul Staff moved her forwards. The higher she got, the more she could make out the surrounding area and see what was happening. The mystical dome encapsulating them was actually a lot smaller than it had first appeared glance, with the shining blue energy spanning just a few blocks. Its circumference seemed to tear through Washington Square Park like a jagged scar, turning Garibaldi Plaza into a rubbled mess. 

That wasn’t the most interesting thing about the remains of the park, however. Just within the dome sat the remains of one of the obsidian coloured obilists that had started this whole ordeal. It jutted crazily out of the ground, a mess of warped colours and jagged edges as if the dimensions around it had been turned inside out. That was certainly one way to deal with them.

Strange smiled at the look on her face as she approached where he sat floating above the streets.

“[color=royalblue]I see you’re a fan of my handiwork.[/color]” He jested, motioning for her to sit opposite him. 

She scoffed mockingly.

“[color=rosybrown]Vit’s no Naum Gabo but you have potential.[/color]” 

He merely chuckled in response. Joking was easy with Strange. It helped. Especially with everything that had happened today.

Moving in front of him, Illyana sad down into the air, crossing her legs in front of her. She took a breath as she did so, as was the norm, however things just felt different. It was too hard to clear her mind. There was too much noise. The sound of S’ym blade. The thud of the Canterbury’s Cricket’s corpse hitting the table. S’yms words. And now the sounds of the innocent tearing themselves apart. She had no clue how Strange was staying so calm right now. She glanced up at him, and watched as he surveyed the city outside of the dome.

She followed his gaze, catching sight of a flick of blue, rocketing through the sky into Central Park like a speeding bullet. The supers were coming.

“[color=royalblue]As wild as it seems, I feel I have things covered here for the most part.[/color]” Strange explained calmly, turning back towards Illyana. 

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. That was certainly not how it seemed right now. 

Ignoring the inquisitive look on her face, he continued. 

“[color=royalblue]I need you over in Star City. The magical defenses there are... Lacking. And the last I'd heard their Emerald Archer had vacated the city. They don’t have the kind of force that New York has.[/color]” 

She simply nodded in silence, as if in another one of his lessons.

“[color=royalblue]Find somewhere safe and prepare the incantations we went over last week. Remember your pronunciations. We don't want another repeat of the island.[/color]”

The words cut against. Another hit of guilt from their “field trip”. He’d taken her to a remote island in the Bahamas a few months ago in an attempt to help stimulate her magical abilities. He thought a change of scenery from the Sanctum would help calm her. It didn’t. It had simply resulted in nearly half of the Island’s wildlife being burnt away. Another day of damnation for Illyana. Another one of many. 

She continued her silence as she floated back to her feet. 

“[color=rosybrown]I’ve got it.[/color]” Her words were almost a whisper as she drifted away. Her hands trembled around the hilt of her staff as she raised tried to focus herself. 

Before she could summon a stepping disc, however, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She shook at the touch in confusion, before turning back towards her teacher. He stood in the air before her, a concerned look on his face. Gone was the power and fury of the Sorcerer Supreme. Now there was only Stephen Strange; her friend. 

“[color=royalblue]Ilyana. What’s wrong?[/color]” His voice was kind. Comforting. Regardless, Illyana shied away from the question.

“[color=rosybrown]I’m fine.[/color]”

Lie.

He smirked slightly. 

“[color=royalblue]I mean, your mascara is literally running across your entire face right now. You're definitely not fine.[/color]”

Panicking, her hand went to her face, where she rubbed profusely. Confirming Strange’s statement, her hand returned stained with a mixture of black and blue makeup. Her breathing increased slightly, as she attempted to wipe it away after wetting her hand. How stupid must she look right now? How weak?

“[color=royalblue]If you're not up for this, you can say no. I won't hold this against you Illyana.[/color]” He continued, trying to be nice. But Illyana could hear the pity in his voice.

He thought her weak. At the thought, she seized up slightly for a second. 

No. This wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to just sit back anymore while other people suffered. She was going to do something. She was going to fight back. She wasn’t a monster.

With one last wipe of her eyes, she tried to stand tall. She wasn’t weak. She was going to do this. 

“[color=rosybrown]I’m fine.[/color]” She confirmed. This time she meant it. Her voice no longer held the pain it had moments ago. Now it held strength. Now it held determination. 

Stephen nodded, somewhat understandable. Squeezing her shoulder to comfort her once more, he drifted backward, before glancing back over to the outside of the protective bubble, where another group of infected could be seen charging in their direction. Facing Illyana one last time, he gave her one last smile. 

“[color=royalblue]Once this is all over, let's have a chat, ok?[/color]” 

She managed a smile herself, giving Strange a short wave as his crimson cloak whisked him down towards the action. 

She could do this. She was not a monster.

She took a deep breath, before summoning a stepping disc beneath her feet.