Floating above this miniature ocean, Stephen stares down past his dripping boots, and— yes, the water's clear enough that he can see the new sandy bottom over the mismatched parquet floor, and even the occasional blurry shape of a scuttling crustacean.

For a fleeting moment, he considers just tossing up his hands and giving up and leaving it be. Maybe this is just how the Sanctum looks now. They can use the side alleyway entrance to get in and out. They can tell visitors to come around the back. Maybe they can set up parasols and beach chairs and serve tropical cocktails on the landing. Wong won't mind, would he?

The cloak tugs at his shoulders and starts curling itself up, twisting and wringing out the water, and Stephen sighs. He floats over to the staircase and lands nimbly next to Wanda, and then absentmindedly kicks his feet a little, shaking off the water like a dog.

"I did appreciate it not feeling like taking a plunge into the North Sea. So you brought it all here, but haven't been able to send it back?"