Punisher and Doctor Strange

"Frank, why are you here?"

Doctor Strange, Stephen Strange, watched the Punisher, who had kicked the door open, with some confusion. Though he found it strange, he still waved a hand, making the teapot pour itself a cup of tea.

"We aren’t friends. We don’t have that kind of relationship. In fact, we have no relationship at all."

"I don’t want to be your friend, Doctor, but you really ought to spend some money on a television—the outside world has gone completely insane. Don’t tell me you know nothing about it." The Punisher strode straight up to Doctor Strange and spoke harshly.

"The outside?" Doctor Strange froze for a moment, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes. But he quickly recovered. "What are you talking about? Everything’s normal here."

"Everything’s normal?!" The Punisher instantly bristled. He abruptly raised his gun and aimed it at Doctor Strange’s head. "Fine. I’m not a brain doctor, but I don’t mind filling in and using this thing to treat your brain!"

The Punisher and Doctor Strange had known each other for a long time. They had handled quite a few cases together. Back when the Punisher was active in New York’s gang wars, he had encountered all sorts of demons.

When those gangsters fought over territory, they did not care whether something was scientific or not. As long as it gave them great power, they dared to dabble in every kind of taboo.

That was why Doctor Strange, who dealt with all kinds of supernatural incidents, had crossed paths with Hell’s Kitchen’s heroes many times. The Punisher was one of them. His ruthless, decisive methods had left a deep impression on Doctor Strange.

"Calm down, Frank. You’re confusing me. I’m a doctor—I need to see the patient before I can make a proper diagnosis. I don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet." Doctor Strange raised both hands, signaling for the Punisher to relax.

Seeing Stephen in that state, the Punisher’s heart sank to the bottom. Fortunately, things had not yet reached the worst point. After a pause, he lowered his gun and said coldly.

"If you want to see the patient, you’d better look in a mirror. You’re already terminally ill, Stephen."

At those words, Doctor Strange’s gaze froze.

"How bad is it?" The playful expression vanished from Doctor Strange’s face, replaced by gravity.

"Worse than ever. We’ve already lost too many people." The Punisher let out a quiet sigh. His broad figure reflected in the candlelight, looking incomparably lonely. "The Fantastic Four, Iron Man, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and those spider bugs—half the heroes have already fallen victim."

"How is that possible?!" Doctor Strange shot to his feet. He looked the Punisher over from head to toe, then said uncertainly, "Wait, are you sure you didn’t come back from some apocalyptic future?"

"I told you, Doctor. You should look in a mirror." The Punisher took out his phone, pulled up the latest news, and slammed it down in front of Doctor Strange.

"Take a good look. Look at this.

Look."

Bang!

The Punisher held a submachine gun.

He kicked open the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

The thunderous noise echoed through the hall, making Doctor Strange pause in the middle of reading.

"Frank, what a rare guest. What brings you here?" Doctor Strange set down the spellbook in his hand, slowly turned around, and looked at the Punisher in the doorway.

Tossing the book onto the table, Doctor Strange kept his eyes fixed on the furious Punisher.

"Frank, why are you here?"

Though he found it strange, Doctor Strange still raised a hand.

The teapot on the table immediately floated into the air and filled a cup with tea.

Suddenly!

Doctor Strange’s hand stopped in midair.

His eyelids twitched involuntarily, and a trace of confusion flashed through his clouded eyes.

"Doctor, you really ought to spend some money on a television. The outside world has gone completely insane. Don’t tell me you know nothing about it!" Doctor Strange’s pause did not affect the Punisher. He strode up to Doctor Strange, his tone unfriendly.

Doctor Strange turned a deaf ear to the Punisher’s words. He seemed to have entered another world, and his mind appeared dazed.

Seeing Doctor Strange like that, the Punisher grew even angrier. He shoved Doctor Strange in the shoulder and spoke. "I’m talking to you, Stephen. Did you hear—"

The Punisher swallowed the rest of his words because he discovered that Doctor Strange’s body had no strength at all. He had pushed him straight onto the sofa, startling the Punisher.

"Hey, are you all right?" Frowning, the Punisher raised his gun and aimed it directly at Doctor Strange’s head.

The atmosphere instantly fell silent. The entire Sanctum Sanctorum became deathly still.

After an unknown amount of time, Doctor Strange’s eyes brightened again. The murky veil had long since disappeared. After a pause, Doctor Strange stiffly raised his head and looked heavily at the Punisher.

"What’s wrong with you?" The Punisher still held his gun raised.

"I just looked in a mirror." Doctor Strange’s lips moved as he spoke a baffling sentence.

The Punisher frowned at that. He did not know what Strange meant, nor what Strange was trying to say. But he did know that whenever this old mystic started speaking in riddles, it meant something huge had happened.

"How bad is it?" The Punisher’s expression turned grave.

"…Worse than ever." Doctor Strange stood up. His mind had completely cleared, and he had also realized that something was subtly altering his sanity and perception.

"Looks like I don’t need to wake your brain up after all. That’s good news. I don’t want to lose another friend." The Punisher lowered his gun, though its barrel still pointed toward Doctor Strange.

Doctor Strange gave a bitter smile. "Things are different now, Frank. Since we last met, my control over magic has become far worse. Magic is complicated. I can no longer sense those Magic Dimensions."

"So what? Without those Magic Dimensions, the mighty Sorcerer Supreme can’t use magic anymore?" the Punisher said coldly.

"Not quite. It’s just that my abilities can no longer handle powerful magic. Even if magic still exists, it should only remain within Divine Relics." Doctor Strange looked troubled. After a moment of silence, he murmured.

"If that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t have failed to notice that force invading me at all."

Looking at the despondent Doctor Strange, the Punisher clenched his fist.

He did not understand magic, but he understood Stephen Strange well enough. It was hard to imagine that this arrogant, obsessive man with such a strong need for control would wear that expression now.

That expression infuriated the Punisher. Staring at Doctor Strange, who had lowered his head and hidden himself in the shadows, the Punisher felt that something was wrong with his thinking.

"Stephen Strange, hailed as walking magical power, the famed Sorcerer Supreme, who had fought the legendary Dormammu several times, defeated Dracula head-on and destroyed the entire vampire race, traveled to Hell many times, and even witnessed the birth and rebirth of reality beside the River of Life—"

The Punisher loudly recounted Doctor Strange’s past achievements. "What, all that boasting you did before doesn’t count anymore?

Stephen! Don’t tell me I came to the wrong person!"

"You came to the right person."

Doctor Strange spoke. "But if we want to solve this problem, we need to be prepared to burn our boats."

As he spoke, Doctor Strange walked over to the bookshelf and returned the spellbook to its original place. Then, under the Punisher’s astonished gaze, he took a massive axe down from the wall.

"…You… prepared an axe?" The Punisher froze.

"Is there a problem?" Doctor Strange turned his head.

"Not at all."

The Punisher’s lips curled into a savage grin.

"I also think a ‘flying carpet’ or a ‘wooden stick’ won’t solve this."