I do not own Dr. Strange or Thor or The Avengers or anything Marvel.

But we have got to talk about Infinity War, people.

Okay, Beyoncé

Ten years.

He had died for ten years in the magical stalemate he'd created against Dormammu, The Cosmic Conqueror.

Over and over, experiencing the full, unrelenting agony each and every time the wrathful entity had killed him.

He had willingly sacrificed himself for ten years while the people of Earth had remained safely frozen in stasis.

Ten years.

One hundred twenty months.

Three thousand six hundred fifty days.

Eighty-seven thousand six hundred hours.

Five million two hundred fifty-six thousand minutes.

Three hundred fifteen million three hundred sixty thousand seconds.

Give or take.

He had died over and over.

Asphyxiation. Crushing gravity.

Soft tissue liquification.

He had thought, during all those long, excruciating months of his life when he had struggled to regain his hands, he had known pain.

The wires. The tensions.

The surgeries.

Physical therapies.

Infections.

Pain.

He had not been wrong.

He had known pain.

But he had not known all pain.

Decapitation.

Implosion, cell by cell.

Slowly frozen to death, degree by degree.

Piercings. Stabbings.

Blood turned to boiling acid in his veins, oxygen turned to burning, poisonous gas in his lungs.

Over and over again.

A different way each time.

Thousands of deaths.

All in an effort to quell his determination.

Vanquish him. Defeat him.

And continue on the mission to lay waste to the earth and every sentient being therein.

Only to be recycled back to the moment.

"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."

The moment he had set into motion.

And he could have stopped it at any time.

Broken the loop. Begged for mercy.

Or just died violently for the very last time.

Allowing the pain to finally stop forever.

But he chosen.

Chosen.

Unimaginable suffering.

Losing.

Dying.

Over and over.

For all eternity if need be.

Brutually.

Endlessly.

Mercilessly.

Until the monstrously malevolent Faltine from the Dark Dimension had finally roared in frustration and surrender.

"Stop! Make this stop! Set me free!"

And the bleeding, weakened human had smiled thinly.

And struck his bargain.

And his dying, his imminent dying anyway, . . .

". . . know your days are numbered. Your time is short."

. . . had stopped.

And Stephen Vincent Strange had come out on the other side a different man.

A changed man.

A wiser man.

A man even more cognizant of the passage of time, dedicated to the the sanctity of all life.

And with still than a little more touch of still himself mixed in.

So yeah, when the petulant, self important, Asgardian "god" with the diva complex had mouthed off . . .

". . . some kind of sorceror?!"

Okay, Beyoncé.

" . . . you second rate-"

That's enough out of you.

. . . Doctor Strange decided it was time to end the conversation.

"Alright, bye, bye."

And move on with his day.

Now, a cup of tea in quiet, if I may.

Before my meeting with Tony Stark.

I love having fun with Loki just as much as anyone but you could see Dr Strange just getting all funned out with him there.

As well as everything else awesome that happened in this movie, ha!

And the prevailing fan theory is that his stalemate with Dormammu lasted ten years before Dormammu wore out killing him.

Dang, dude.

Anyway, thanks for reading.

Everyone appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.