Stepping through what looked like a closet door Stephen finds himself in an expanding room. Patterns expand and combine and devour each other like the shifting of a kaleidoscope. "I am never going to get used to this." The Ancient One smiles with eyes like a silver-backed mirror and skin as fine as parchment paper though white as snow. "I once thought that as well and now it is as common as rain… and just as precious."

The door slams shut behind him causing a brief jump (and a squeak he will forever deny) as he spins around. Something like a giggle has him spinning back around only to see himself in an endless void. "So, what am I standing on exactly?" And there is that damnable smile again, "Only the Mona Lisa can pull that off without seeming like an asshole, you know." A gentle hum and then the Ancient One is holding out her hand and the Sorcerer Supreme's fancy gee haw.

"This Stephen is an Infinity Stone and it contains great power beyond reckoning. It comes from a set of six and if ever they all come in contact the universe as we know it will fall." One day Stephen will discover how she manages to say things like that as though she were asking for him to pass the butter. 'Oh, we should take in the laundry soon – a planet devouring entity is about to murder us all. Would you like some tea?' Then again she does sound kind of British – a people known for being fairly unflappable.

"Once there was a great potential as Time, Space, Power, Entropy, Thought, and Reality curled tightly about each other like a nest of snakes eating each other's tail." And the void becomes a mind bending scape as Eternity devours Oblivion and births Possibility. A thousand galaxies held together by light and the fires of Hell like a daisy chain wrapped around God's neck. Suddenly the chain breaks flinging its pieces into the distance.

"And then there was a choice – to end or to continue and the Multi-verse was formed." And the scene before them blossoms, each galaxy becoming a spoke from which a thousand suns spin into nebulas into miniature universes. "A million, million worlds spawning a thousand shadows into infinity, and we are but one Stephen. We are but one light against the final night and the Endless Sleep."

It's amazing like standing in a cloud made of dreams and starlight except that there is a darkness spreading across it like a fungus. Its influence spreads like blood in water or ink in oil. One area in particular is like a petal being held to a flame. A feeling like his intestines are trying to strangle his heart, "And there?" The Ancient One is apparently incapable of frowning, but she gives the impression even as she smiles – "That is one Potential falling into the Deep. There is nothing we can do."

How many worlds? How many people burning away in an imaginable hell? A thousand suns gone to ciders – how can there be nothing he can do? "I don't believe that – I can at least try." She opens her mouth and instead of waiting for another lesson about arrogance; "What am I if I don't try because I could fail?" She might be smiling but, "You know not what you do Stephen – but I cannot stop you." And the room is speeding toward where it all falls apart. He can hear someone screaming and is echoed by a thousand voices.

The room is freezing and he can see his breath although the world stands still. There is a girl sitting on her knees face screwed up in pain. Something as black as night is surging down her throat and the man it extends from is cloaked in a shroud of purple light. He can help her, "Stephen". He looks to the Ancient One who watches him with eyes that have seen empires rise and fall. They are merciless, but something along the edges might be kindness."Do not stray so far for too long or you may find there is nothing for you to return to."

Suddenly he is there – the wind against his skin and blowing through his hair. Stinging snow in his eyes and the girl is gagging and – "Looks the Calvary has arrived just in time."