Chapter Text
The new guy is…chatty.
“I don’t think you guys are fully grasping how ground-shaking this is!” –the kid says, closed fists shaking up and down with sheer excitement.
Mason “Dipper” Pines – so nicknamed for the faint birthmark on his forehead, a series of dots resembling the eponymous constellation – is a gangly, messy-haired fifteen-year-old teen from Piedmont, California. By all accounts he’s a completely ordinary human being – a fact that would, one might assume, preclude him from membership into their as-yet-unnamed team of supernatural warriors. However, as Strange assured them, and as they’ve been able to confirm a few times over, the guy’s mind is like a bottomless pit when it comes to knowledge of the supernatural. He’s only officially been to the Sanctum twice, counting today, and he’s already voraciously consumed the Fentons’ published papers on ghosts and the primer on the Greek and Roman magical worlds Annabeth so kindly put together for Nico not to have to explain who he is and where he comes from all the damn time. According to Wong, he’d been sneaking into the Sanctum’s vast libraries via Sling Ring portal to learn about Eldritch magic and the Masters of the Mystic Arts for weeks before the sorcerer caught him and brought him before Strange, who decided the kid ‘had potential’, and immediately threw him in Nico’s general direction.
Nico’s still not entirely sure what that ‘potential’ is. Aside from his nigh-encyclopedic and ever-growing knowledge of the arcane, and the fact that he can at least throw a surprisingly decent punch, he can’t exactly see how Dipper is supposed to keep up in battle with a demigod and a half-ghost superhero, let alone the Sorcerer Supreme.
Still, he knows what it’s like to be the odd man out. Can’t hurt to let him try, right?
“I mean, I’m sorry, Dipper.” –he shrugs, flipping the page on a ten-year-old instruction booklet for some CCG called Duel Monsters that Will got for him from the Hermes Cabin after he mourned his Mythomagic collection in his presence one too many times. “It’s just…we’re used to this kind of thing.”
“Yeah, on a weirdness scale of one to five this is, like, a solid three, if that.” –Ellie agrees, floating upside down and throwing a rubber ball at her duplicate, who hovers right side up some ten feet away, an exercise in coordination she does at least once a day to keep her skill sharp.
Dipper groans. “I can’t believe you guys…I just explained to you that the force of belief is so powerful that our species’ various religions have straight-up bent the magical fabric of our world to spawn the concepts, individuals, and places described in sacred texts, and you guys are staring at me like I’m discussing the weather.”
Nico sighs. This comes after a half-hour diatribe in which Dipper described finding out that the High Heavens and the Burning Hells existed as secular realms long before the earliest humans even existed, let alone the various religions and sects whose beliefs breathed life into each of their own versions of Paradise, Eternal Punishment, and the various beings that inhabit them. “This isn’t exactly a shock for me; human belief is what sustains the Greek and Roman gods, as you know, and the absence of that belief is what the gods have exploited since ancient times to power the Mist that separates the mundane and magical worlds. Also, I’ve personally met Anubis and we literally just fought some Egyptian zealots a couple weeks ago, so we’re keenly aware that the power of human belief wasn’t exactly limited to the Mediterranean.”
“Yeah, and I fight ghosts on the regular; you know how it goes by now, with the human soul, ectoplasm, the obsession that’s so powerful it staves off whatever afterlife they were destined for…” –Ellie trails off. “Don’t get me wrong, you gave a hell of a TED Talk, but it doesn’t really make a difference to me what religion the demon I’m gonna punch comes from – or doesn’t.”
“It does, actually.” –Wong absently pipes up, having some jasmine tea while he reads the day’s edition of the Bugle. “Belief affects how much a given person can interact – violently or otherwise – with religious entities, and vice versa. If you do not practice Catholicism, for example, you will not be able to defeat a demon from that religion on your own – you’d need a very brave ordained priest, or maybe some kind of warrior nun. On the bright side, it won’t be able to harm you nearly as much as it would a believer, either.” –he explains. “It’s a different story with the, er, source material, however – many facets of the magical world don’t require belief to exist, or more importantly, to be dangerous. And there’s several caveats and exemptions; for example, the Masters of the Mystic Arts’ mandate to protect Earth from magical threats supersedes any sort of ‘boundary’ the dynamics of belief may generate.”
Ellie snorts. “Equal opportunity magical ass-kickers. I like it.”
Dipper pouts a little. “But isn’t it so fascinating that there’s this…primordial version of Heaven and Hell out there, with its own history and notable figures, and then a bunch of different, religion-exclusive derivatives?”
“Sure, but now that you’re at risk of having to actually face demons, you should probably focus on the ones that don’t require Sunday school as part of your warrior training.” –Nico says, sardonic. “Knowledge is power, Dipper, but you need wisdom to effectively wield it.”
“I guess you’re right...” –Dipper muses. “Man, I hope I don’t get my face eaten by a demon. My sister would get to say ‘I told you so’ for eternity.”
Wong shrugs. “Most demons wouldn’t find your flesh appetizing, to be honest. Your soul, on the other hand…” –he trails off. “Seriously though, demons may be dangerous, but angels are arguably more difficult to deal with. When it comes to demons, you can destroy their physical form, bind their essence, bargain with them – sometimes even enlist their service, if you’re cunning enough to avoid the typical fine print crap. Angels, they never compromise. Should your interests align, you’d never find a more stalwart ally, but run afoul of one of those faceless bastards? You better hope you know how to banish them back to the High Heavens. Or better yet, straight to the battlefields of the Eternal Conflict.”
Dipper waves his hands at the sorcerer, as if to say ‘See!? This is cool stuff!’. Admittedly, Nico is somewhat curious – the Olympians almost never allude to other parts of the magical world, and much less to other pantheons, ancient or modern – and though it isn’t expressly forbidden for demigods to do so, it’s definitely not encouraged, either. ‘Our own foes are challenge enough.’, Chiron had gently but firmly told him once, very early on. He’d bet a handful of drachmae that the Egyptians tell their own warriors the same damn thing.
A shower of sparks sprouts behind Dipper, widening into a circular portal that Doctor Strange steps through. He takes a look at those assembled and sighs. “Do you three not have lives to get back to between missions?” –he asks.
Nico snorts. “What, you’re tired of us already?”
“I’m a single man in my late forties, and never once have I considered having children. Would it surprise you if I said ‘yes’?” –Strange says, deadpan. “At any rate, that’s not my point; regardless of any personal feelings, the Sanctum Sanctorum is simply not meant to house teenagers – it’s not designed to house anyone at all, except the Sorcerer Supreme, the Master of the Sanctum, and any trusted acolytes in their service, which none of you qualify as.”
“Strange may be a jerk about it, but he does have a point.” –Wong says. “There are far too many dangers in this place, even for learned scholars – you’re honestly quite lucky none of you have gotten accidentally stranded in another dimension yet, or polymorphed into some helpless farm animal. It would be much safer for you, and anyone else you end up recruiting, if we could find you another base of operations.”
“Something I was in the middle of, in fact, before I was interrupted by an urgent message from the cosmos – a summons from the Vishanti themselves.” –Strange says, and a minor shiver passes through Nico’s spine – the kind that happens when true power is invoked. “A Miraculous was activated in New York City mere minutes ago.”
Blank stares meet his gaze from Nico and Ellie. “A…Miraculous.” –Ellie says, narrowing her eyes. “Are we supposed to know what that is?”
“I wanna say that was in the dossier list?” –Nico vaguely recalls. “I probably skimmed that part, though.”
Strange pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really shouldn’t have. The Miraculous Jewels are extremely powerful artifacts…”
Nico rolls his eyes. “Strange, that describes roughly half the stuff magically-aligned people touch on a regular basis.” –he says, sarcastically.
“That may be so, but most of those aren’t directly inhabited by gods.” –Wong points out. Nico tilts his head after a moment, conceding the point.
“Oh-oh-oh, can I explain?” –Dipper pipes up.
“Good to see someone did their homework, at least.” –Strange mutters. “Go ahead.”
Dipper clears his throat. Wong, amused, waves his hands, and a magical backdrop forms behind his head. “Millions of years ago, when humanity was still young, and the world of magic had not yet settled, there came a hail of stars from the cosmos – fragments of divinity, the shattered remnants of a god far more powerful than any who call the Earth home.” –he begins. The illusion behind him shows colorful comets falling to Earth, peppering the planet’s surface with powerful magic. From the craters, tiny embers of unimaginable power arose, like little will-o’-the-wisps that slowly converged around the first two, which had landed together.
“Over millennia, these divine shards coalesced into their own individual beings, evolving alongside humanity and coming to embody aspects of existence.” –he continues, as the fairy lights shape themselves into little sprites with big heads and tiny bodies vaguely resembling Earth creatures – a ladybug, a black cat, a bee, a butterfly, a turtle, a peacock, and a fox, initially, then a bunch more in the background. “Creation, Destruction, Cooperation, Transformation, Protection, Perception, among many others. These creatures, who would come to be known as Kwami, held vast power over each of their domains – so much so, in fact, that they could not safely control it themselves. Any attempt to exert their power, even a mere fraction of it, would disrupt the balance of the planet’s magical energies, damaging the fabric of reality, and any innocents caught in its wake.”
Various catastrophes illustrate the point – a second, black and red moon in the sky suddenly popping into orbit, an entire continent imploding and sinking beneath the Pacific Ocean, entire tribes of what appear to be Neanderthals suddenly sharing a single mind and going mad from the experience, and more.
“Having come into their own alongside us, the Kwamis dearly loved humanity and the Earth. They wished to help our fledging species to achieve our full potential, but wielding their powers often ended in disaster – with the Sorcerer Supreme of the time often forced to fix the damage the tiny gods had caused.”
The silhouette of the aforementioned magical guardian, recognizable by the Eye of Agamotto worn around their neck, beseeches a group of magical entities – a hooded woman, a floating, flaming tiger head, a man made of the purest light, a shaman-like figure that wears the skull of some ancient bird of prey as a helm, an elf-like figure with blue skin and deer-like horns, and a crouching, dryad like creature – wielding their vast powers to knit reality back together. These ones, Nico knows – they’re the Vishanti, the foremost magical authorities on Earth, picked amongst the strongest spellcasters in history, often previous Sorcerers Supreme themselves, to become immortal protectors of the magical balance of the planet.
“The Vishanti, in their absolute power and wisdom, commanded the Sorcerer Supreme to instill order unto the Kwami’s chaos, in such a way that their magic could be wielded by trusted guardians for the good of humanity.”
“And so the Miraculous were created.” –Strange takes over the narration, as the depicted Sorcerer Supreme takes magical hammer to arcane stone, watched and assisted by both the Kwami and the Vishanti. With each magical blow, the stones take shape, animal symbols representing the chosen forms of their assigned Kwami. One by one, the star-born gods willingly bond with the jewels, each sealed into small, octagonal wooden boxes. “To be bestowed upon worthy individuals in need of their power, those who could best use their powers in service of the greater good.”
Dipper looks a bit like the wind’s been taken out of his sails, so Ellie gently elbows him. “You’d make a killer dungeon master, dude.” –she mutters.
The kid grins. “Thanks.”
Strange ignores them. “As you can see, the awakening of a Miraculous is an omen that cannot be ignored – both because a potential ally has been chosen, and because there must indeed be a reason for the burden to be placed on their shoulders.”
“In short, something bad enough to wake up a god is gonna happen.” –Nico muses.
“Or already has.” –Strange agrees.
Nico huffs. “Not like there’s been any shortage of that in the past few decades.”
Strange purses his lips, almost softening a bit. “Nico, Kronos and Gaia could not have been defeated by outside forces. Not without dire consequences.”
The demigod sighs. “I know. Prophecies.” –he spits out, like an insult. “Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off we were on our own against the apocalypse. Twice.”
“Honestly? Valid.” –Ellie says, then nods at the magical projection. “So, who’s the lucky guy?”
“No idea.” –Strange says, a hint of concern in his ever even tone. “The Order of the Guardians, in charge of safe-keeping the Miraculouses, typically lets us know which Miraculous was activated, as well as the identity of the new Holder, but the Guardians mysteriously vanished shortly before my tenure as Sorcerer Supreme. The Miracle Boxes themselves have been kept at Kamar-Taj since, but the Kwami have almost always woken and chosen their Holders on their own, through some kind of magical insight even they don’t understand or control.”
Nico frowns. “What, the Guardians just vanished and you guys didn’t follow up?”
“The Ancient One did.” –Wong says, though he, too, seems a little uncertain. “The Guardians had long been at odds with the Masters of the Mystic Arts – they felt that we tended to recklessly promote the use of Miraculouses, long after the initial purpose of their activation had been fulfilled, as allies in keeping the balance of the magical world.”
“And the Sorcerer Supreme felt that the Guardians were too overzealous in separating Miraculous Holders from their Kwami, even when there was no real risk in letting them live out their lives in partnership.” –Strange says. “The Ancient One concluded that the Guardians had sealed themselves off to force their responsibilities on the Masters of the Mystic Arts as a form of protest, and decided to ‘allow them their tantrum for a decade or two’. I’ve intended to speak with them for years, but…” –he trails off, shaking his head.
The teens look at each other. The Ancient One is always talked about in reverence, but Nico’s noticed that there’s always an undercurrent of scorn when she comes up, especially from Strange.
Judging from this anecdote, he kinda gets it.
“The previous Sorcerer Supreme was powerful and wise – perhaps beyond any of her forbearers – but her death left a great many loose ends.” –Wong supplies. “I hate to admit it, but we’ve barely made a dent.”
“But that’s neither here nor there.” –Strange says, cutting off that line of conversation. “Fortunately for our purposes today, we’re not without ways to contact the new Holder. I cannot tell you their identity – that is magic the Guardians were allowed to reserve for their order – but I can give you an approximate location, and with some patient observation, I’m confident you’ll be able to find and make contact with them. In the meantime, I’ll endeavor to make contact with the Guardians – considering the way our world has changed in just a few months, I can only imagine more Miraculouses will awaken soon, so we’ll need their expertise sooner rather than later.”
Nico nods. “Sounds easy enough. What’s the catch?”
Dipper frowns. “The catch?”
Ellie snorts. “There’s always a catch.”
“If it was actually as easy as Strange makes it sound, he wouldn’t need to send us. One of his acolytes would be more than enough to bring this Holder figure here.” –Nico drawls.
“Well-reasoned.” –Strange praises. “There is, indeed, a catch; the activation of a Miraculous is the sort of magical event that anyone with a decent aptitude for magic and lacking scruples would be interested in. Remember, these jewels imbue people with the power of a god; even if the average human body is only able to channel a fraction of that power, in the wrong hands, a Miraculous would be devastating.”
“And there’s no shortage of parties that might be interested in wielding that power.” –Wong warns. “It’s more likely than not that you’ll have competition – whether friendly or not, we have no way of knowing.”
Nico nods. “Once we make contact, what’s the play?”
Strange smirks. “That, my dear Nico, is entirely up to you. Whether this new Holder turns out to be friend or foe, I’ll trust you to handle the situation appropriately.” –he says. “I will never deny you my considerable support, of course, but I remind you: I am not the leader of your team – my duty is to the entire world, and as such, I must devote the lion’s share of my attention to the many threats at the edge of our reality.”
The demigod scoffs. “Y’know, Strange, for an idea that you came up with, you sure seem eager to wash your hands of us.” –he says, crossing his arms. “You don’t want us in the Sanctum anymore, you report to the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. without us, and now you’re abdicating any leadership role on the team? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re having second thoughts about it.”
“Surprisingly enough, I don’t. Quite the contrary, in fact – it’s only because I’ve grown to trust you and your abilities that I feel comfortable enough to step aside and let you make your way forward.” –Strange admits. “You all had already proven yourselves long before ever setting foot in the Sanctum Sanctorum, but if I had any doubts about the formation of this team, I assure you they were thoroughly assuaged when you faced Lord Hercules and Lady Hecate. I am happy to guide your path forward if you so require, but it should be clear to all of you, as it is to me, that you don’t need anyone other than each other – and least of all me – to succeed.”
Nico frowns. It’s high praise, to be honest – and, for once, entirely devoid of Strange’s usual sarcasm or condescension. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this development – and judging by Ellie’s calculating look, he’s pretty sure he’s not alone in that line of thinking. “If you say so.” –he finally says, opting not to press him on it. It’s not something they can afford to look into while this Miraculous remains a wildcard, after all. “Point the way, then.”