It’s interesting: this baggage, these unexpected pitfalls and associations where he isn’t used to them. “Understood,” Strange says, easily. He doesn’t mind postponing it.

“Here, meditation is just… it’s seen as frippery, as something small but probably helpful. A lot of my magic entails being calm and centered and focused. Distractions are sloppy; distractions can lead to botching spells.”

The Ancient One had spent so long teaching him to be tranquil, to quiet those busy thoughts buzzing around in his mind. It’s chilling, considering this other way of being Tranquil.

But. It’s a question for another day. So for now, he leads Julius further into the depths of the monastery, and into the libraries: where there are books in neat rows, books chained to their caches, books stashed in ancient revolving mechanisms. There are eager students hard at work, heads bowed over parchment, meticulously memorising runes and sutras.

They’re all still trapped here, and this place likely isn’t real, but it is still a glimpse of something else: an order of sorcerers with free rein, united by the love of study and magic, with few limits fettering them. It’s not a Circle. It’s Earth’s closest thing to a Circle.

It’s a glimpse into something else.