harry potter : I'm Doctor Mystic (Dr. Strange + Dr. Fate)

Five years had passed since Alex sealed Chronos in the sands of time. The world had been anything but quiet. Shadows stirred across Europe as the dark wizard Tom Riddle, known to the world as Lord Voldemort, rose to power. Unlike the monstrous visage he had taken on in another timeline, this Voldemort retained the striking features of Tom Riddle—a face that inspired both fear and admiration. Charisma, cunning, and unbridled power allowed him to conquer half of Europe, his dark banners casting a long shadow over the magical and non-magical alike.

It was only a matter of time before Voldemort's ambition brought him to Greendale, the mystical hub Alex now called home.

The streets of Greendale were silent, the air thick with the oppressive energy of Voldemort's arrival. His followers, the Death Eaters, moved like a wave through the town, their black robes and silver masks glinting under the moonlight. At the heart of it all stood Tom Riddle himself, tall and commanding.

Alex waited for him in the old town square, the site of many magical battles throughout history. The air shimmered with protective wards Alex had cast, but his demeanor was calm. He leaned casually on his staff, the Cloak of Levitation billowing softly around him.

Tom arrived, flanked by his loyal followers, his sharp features illuminated by the dim light of the square's lampposts.

"Alex," Voldemort said, his voice smooth as silk. "It's been a long time."

"It has," Alex replied with a faint smile. "You've grown, Tom. More confident, more powerful… more dangerous." He gestured to the horizon, where plumes of smoke rose from nearby villages. "Conquering half of Europe wasn't enough?"

Tom chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "The world must be reshaped, Alex. Order must be restored, and I am the one to do it. You should understand that better than anyone."

Alex sighed, shaking his head. "I understand ambition, Tom. I understand power. But what you're doing isn't order—it's tyranny. And I can't let you bring that here."

Voldemort's expression hardened. "You always did underestimate me. I gave you a chance to stand with me once, Alex. This time, I won't ask."

The air crackled as the two sorcerers raised their wands, and the duel began.

Tom moved first, a torrent of green light shooting from his wand—a Killing Curse aimed directly at Alex. But Alex was ready. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a shimmering golden barrier that absorbed the spell.

The ground trembled as their magic clashed. Tom summoned waves of fire, serpents of shadow, and bolts of crackling lightning, each spell aimed with deadly precision. Alex countered with equal ferocity, summoning shields of ice, vortexes of wind, and blasts of pure arcane energy.

"You've improved," Alex admitted, dodging a serpent of fire that snapped at his heels. "But you're still predictable."

Tom smirked, his wand tracing intricate patterns in the air. "And you're still arrogant."

The duel escalated, the sky above them turning dark as their spells tore through the night. With a sweep of his wand, Tom summoned a massive dragon made of shadow and flame, its roar shaking the earth. Alex responded by calling upon the Amulet of Anubis, conjuring a radiant phoenix to meet the dragon mid-air. The two constructs collided, exploding into a shower of sparks.

The square was left in ruins, cobblestones shattered and buildings scorched. Despite the devastation, neither wizard showed signs of stopping.

"I'll admit," Alex said, panting slightly, "you've exceeded my expectations. But let's take this to the next level."

With a gesture, Alex summoned an ornate, silver bidet from thin air, its gleaming surface glowing with enchanted runes.

Tom raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through his stern expression. "A bidet? Really?"

"Only the finest for this duel," Alex quipped, his smirk returning.

Tom waved his wand, and another bidet materialized in his hands, this one black and gold, emanating dark energy. "Let's see whose flush is stronger."

The battle resumed, but now with a surreal twist. Streams of enchanted water shot from their bidets, colliding mid-air in spectacular sprays of magical force. Alex's silver bidet unleashed purifying jets of golden liquid, each stream infused with holy energy. Tom's bidet countered with torrents of dark, corrosive water that hissed and sizzled on impact.

The ground became a battlefield of splashes and streams, their attacks creating geysers that illuminated the night.

"You've always had flair," Alex said, dodging a blast of cursed water that narrowly missed him. "But you can't outclass me in style, Tom."

Tom smirked, twirling his bidet with a flourish. "We'll see about that."

As the battle raged on, it became clear that neither was willing to relent. Each spell, each blast of water, carried the weight of their history—friends turned foes, rivals bound by destiny.

Finally, Alex saw an opening. With a swift move, he unleashed a powerful surge from his bidet, the golden water forming a massive tidal wave that swept toward Tom.

Tom raised his own bidet, summoning a towering wall of black water to meet the wave. The clash was monumental, a cataclysm of light and shadow that engulfed the square.

When the waters settled, the two stood facing each other, soaked but unbroken. Alex raised his staff, prepared to continue, but Tom lowered his bidet, his expression unreadable.

"You've grown stronger," Tom admitted. "Perhaps too strong to defeat… for now."

With that, he vanished, his Death Eaters retreating into the shadows.

Alex stood alone in the ruined square, the Cloak of Levitation wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. He looked at the horizon, where the dawn was just beginning to break.

"This isn't over, Tom," he murmured. "Not by a long shot."

And with that, he turned and walked back to his sanctum, preparing for the battles yet to come.