Drills whined and groaned, gruff voices barked directions to one another, and larger machinery rumbled as loads of bricks and mortar were transported to the upper levels of the newly reconstructed buildings on Bleecker Street. The lower floors were nearing exterior completion, but those above remained skeletal, their steel bones gleaming in the afternoon sun and their plastic coverings flapping in the wind. Janet squinted up at them as she passed, using her hand to shield her eyes from the fierce glare. Previously, she had been too preoccupied with her mission to give them much thought, but she had seen the incident reported in the news when it occurred.

     The catalyst remained unidentified. Many experts declared that structural errors had caused the buildings to collapse, while several witnesses claimed that they had felt tremors in the earth. Throughout the duration of the event, there had been no sign of S.H.I.E.L.D., but someone had showed up and had saved many lives. Stephen Strange had arrived on the scene long before any emergency personnel, multiple cameras capturing footage of him flying through the air, his red cloak billowing dramatically behind him as he carried men, women, children—even pets—to safety. At first, she had attributed his immediate response to proximity, but now she questioned that assumption. What if there was a deeper connection?

     Remembering the perfect efficiency with which he had retrieved the Darkhold from a submarine filled with S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel, Janet frowned. He had returned completely unscathed, had not encountered a single obstacle that was capable of delaying him. She suspected treachery. In fact, she was almost certain of it. There was just one problem: why had no one come to arrest her? Why had agents in black suits not thrown her into the backseat of a bulletproof vehicle and transported her to a classified interrogation facility, where the most refined methods of torture would undoubtedly elicit a confession from her, real or not?

     It was possible that Strange had not betrayed her, but it was far more likely that he had, and now he and whichever intelligence agency he had reported her to were simply waiting for the opportune moment to bring her down. Perhaps they wanted to first discover the full extent of her intentions and collect evidence against her and her employer. Then, and only then, would they deliver the fatal blow. This was Janet's foremost concern. The distress caused by her rapidly increasing powers was vastly outweighed by her fear that she had been compromised. However, despite recounting every excruciating detail of her endeavors so far, Norman had insisted that she continue.

     She admired his unfailing optimism, but at the same time, a seed of doubt prompted her to wonder if they were going too far this time. What if their attempt to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. ended with their own demise? What if they lost everything they had worked so hard to build? Shaking her head, Janet scolded herself. She could not afford to harbor such uncertainties, especially when there was so much at stake. Norman was counting on her to see this through.

     Returning her attention to the task at hand, Janet climbed the now familiar steps of the Sanctum Sanctorum and rang the doorbell. Strange had not yet called to tell her what he had learned about the Darkhold, but she could not restrain her burning curiosity any longer. Crossing her arms, she tapped the toe of her boot impatiently as she waited. Finally, the door opened, but Janet's greeting died on her lips.

     "Hello there."

     The Asian man who stood before her spoke warmly and wore a kind smile, his face round and his head shaved. He was garbed in a red robe, which was fastened by a sash at his waist, dark pants, and boots. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she inspected every inch of his appearance. So, she thought, Stephen has friends that are just as crazy as he is.

     "How may I be of assistance?" the stranger inquired, either taking no notice of or choosing to ignore her skeptical demeanor.

     Janet blinked, opening her mouth to speak, but a second voice cut in, sounding just over the man's right shoulder.

     "I said that I would get it, Wong," Strange remarked irritably, appearing in the doorway. When his gaze found her, he instantly straightened. "Janet! I...didn't know you were coming here."

     "A client, I presume?" inquired Wong with a sideways glance.

     "Uh, yeah," Strange stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Janet, this is my friend Wong. I asked him to assist me in studying the Darkhold. Wong, this is Janet Carlisle, my..."

     "Ex," she finished as he trailed off uncertainly. Stepping forward, she extended her hand with a smile.

     After considering it for a moment, Wong shook it and met her gaze. Though without enmity, his brown eyes were keen and penetrated hers. He was studying her closely, and Janet got the distinct impression that he was attempting to learn as much as he could about her without questioning her directly. Becoming increasingly aware of her magical abilities, she forcefully stifled them, crushing them until they were small and scarcely detectable by her own consciousness. She currently had no evidence to support her theory, but she feared that Strange—and possibly this man—might be capable of detecting her powers if she did not suppress them.

     "We're not as far along as I would've liked to be before contacting you," the Doctor explained as she crossed the threshold, "but we've been poring over numerous volumes that speak of this book and its nature."

     "Stephen," Wong warned, closing the door behind them, "is it wise to be disclosing this information?"

     "She's been involved in this from the beginning," Strange assured him. "She was there when I found the Darkhold."

     "When we found it," Janet corrected.

     "Right," he acknowledged with a smirk.

     Narrowing his eyes, Wong stopped and folded his arms over his broad chest. "And what, may I ask, is her interest in this matter?"

     "It's a long story," Strange replied with a reluctance that she had not expected.

     "I have time," his friend persisted.

     She rolled her eyes. "I'm standing right here, you know."

     "So you are," said Wong, turning to address her. "Perhaps you will enlighten me."

     "I would be glad to," she responded confidently, raising her chin and eyeing him defiantly. "My purpose in tracking down this book is not without just cause. I am seeking the source of a powerful energy surge that caused an extremely abnormal earthquake in Los Angeles. The widely accepted narrative is that the Inhuman Daisy Johnson summoned the quake to rid the city of a particularly dangerous threat. However, I have sources who tell me that something far more sinister was going on, something that S.H.I.E.L.D. was aware of and perhaps had a hand in. I want to find out what really happened that day, and Stephen has agreed to help me do just that."

     Wong exchanged a glance with Strange as she continued.

     "In fact, on my way here, I walked past the wreckage of buildings located on this very street, buildings that were decimated by a quake that occurred less than a week ago. In case you didn't know this: Manhattan doesn't have earthquakes! Something big is happening, something that involves massive surges of unnatural energy. We found the Darkhold off the coast of Manhattan. Who's to say that it wasn't the catalyst for the disaster on Bleecker Street?"

     Wong was watching her silently, his expression unreadable. Shifting restlessly, Strange blinked, dropping his gaze to the floor. His scarred hands clenched into fists at his sides and then flexed.

     "Forgive me if I seem suspicious, Miss Carlisle," Wong said finally, his features softening. "As someone who seeks to assist the Sorcerer Supreme in carrying out his duty to protect this realm, I must ensure that contact with mystical objects such as the Darkhold is extremely limited. Since the day of its creation, it has been wielded as a weapon of tremendous power, a means to bring about terrible destruction. It is capable of corrupting, enslaving, and driving mad anyone who tries to read it, which is why its cover will remain unopened."

     Resisting the temptation to glance at Strange, Janet held Wong's gaze and attempted to maintain a guiltless expression. Suddenly, the ringing of a nearby cellphone shattered the moment of tense silence.

     "Uh, excuse me," Strange apologized, striding swiftly to the table that sat to the left of the wide staircase. Snatching up his cellphone, he swiped his finger across the screen and then pressed it to his ear. "Yes?"

     There was a brief pause, during which Wong turned away and stroked his chin thoughtfully, but her eyes were fixed on Stephen's back, her breath catching inside her chest as soon as she saw his posture stiffen. Something was wrong.

     "I'll be right there," he said in a low voice, but his words seemed to echo in the cavernous room.

     Abruptly, he hung up and cast his phone onto the cushion of the nearest chair. Pivoting sharply on his heel, Strange took two steps toward them and then stopped. His brow was creased, his lips pressed tightly together and his fists clenched once more at his sides.

     "I have to go. Janet, wait here with Wong. I'll be back soon."

     "Where are you going?" she asked, pursuing him as he turned to his right and began opening a portal.

     "Someone needs my help," Stephen responded through gritted teeth.

     Energy swirled and crackled, orange sparks flying. There was no time for her to find out what awaited her on the other side of the portal, but one thing she knew for certain: whatever he had been told during that phone call had deeply upset him. A person he cared about was in some sort of trouble. This was exactly the kind of weakness Norman would want her to exploit. She had no choice but to follow him. And, she thought, her real reason for refusing to be left behind could be easily concealed by a guise of concern.

     Her mind made up, Janet feigned acceptance and took a step back. Then, as Strange entered the gateway, she launched herself forward. With no Cloak of Levitation to stop her, she slipped through the fiery circle just before it closed and vanished from sight.