On the outskirts of London, the site of the anomaly no longer resembled a building.
It looked like the aftermath of a contained apocalypse.
Concrete had been pulverized into dust. Steel beams twisted like soft wire. The surrounding area was pocked with impact craters, as if something had detonated from the inside out.
At the center of it all stood Andrew.
Beneath his feet, a massive bowl-shaped crater stretched outward, the ground still radiating heat like an open furnace.
He stared at his hands.
That had been… one movement.
One instinctive reaction.
And this was the result.
Shock came first.
Then something else followed close behind.
Something sharper.
Power surged through him.
Not the kind he used to struggle for.
Not the inefficient, frustrating trickle he had spent years trying to build.
This was different.
There was something inside him now.
Something vast.
Endless.
It fed his body continuously, pushing his strength higher with every passing second.
And the terrifying part?
This wasn't the limit.
This was just what he could handle right now.
His ability wasn't keeping up with the energy.
His body was adapting—but slowly.
Too slowly.
If even a fraction of that power leaked out uncontrollably…
He had no doubt.
He would tear himself apart.
Andrew exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts into order.
"Okay… think."
His gaze drifted across the ruins.
There was no sign of his superior.
No body.
No trace.
Just absence.
He swallowed.
"…Yeah. He's gone."
For a brief moment, something like guilt flickered across his expression.
Then logic took over.
"He already reported the situation," Andrew muttered to himself. "Backup's coming."
He paced once, then stopped.
"And when they get here?"
His jaw tightened.
"They'll see this."
They'd run tests.
Scan him.
Find the anomaly.
And then?
Containment.
Extraction.
Study.
He knew how this worked.
Andrew's eyes hardened.
"…No."
He shook his head.
"No, that's not happening."
The thought settled into place.
Firm.
Irreversible.
"They think I'm dead," he said quietly. "No body. No evidence."
A beat.
"I can work with that."
His breathing steadied.
Confidence followed.
Then ambition.
"I've got this kind of power now… and I'm supposed to go back to being nothing?"
He laughed under his breath.
"Not a chance."
Time barely passed.
Seconds.
But his mind moved faster now.
Sharper.
More efficient.
His entire perception had shifted.
Decision made—
He crouched slightly.
Then jumped.
The ground shattered beneath him.
A shockwave rippled outward as he vanished into the sky.
Two minutes later, an investigation team arrived.
They stopped dead at the edge of the destruction.
No one spoke at first.
Then one of them quietly activated a recorder.
"…Reporting total structural loss. Suspected internal detonation. Multiple casualties."
A pause.
"This needs to be escalated immediately."
The report reached Washington quickly.
Inside the White House, Tony Stark scanned the file, his expression tightening.
"Great," he muttered. "Another problem."
He reached for his phone—
But the other Tony stopped him.
Future Tony leaned over, reading more closely.
"…Hold on."
He frowned.
"This feels familiar."
Present Tony glanced at him.
"Familiar how?"
Future Tony tapped the screen.
"I think this lines up with something tied to an Infinity Stone."
Tony blinked.
"…You want to run that by me again?"
Future Tony exhaled.
"The Aether. Reality Stone."
He scrolled through the details.
"In my timeline, it surfaced around this time. London. Triggered a whole chain of events."
Tony stared at him.
"And you're telling me this now?"
Future Tony shot him a look.
"Have you seen how much has changed? Half the stuff I remember doesn't even apply anymore."
He crossed his arms.
"There was a terrorist network planning mass casualties in my timeline too. Doesn't matter now—they're gone."
Tony scoffed.
"That's different."
"Is it?" Future Tony shot back. "You nearly built something that almost wiped out humanity."
Tony pointed at him.
"That was you, not me."
Future Tony smirked slightly.
"Same guy."
They stared at each other.
The tension held for a second—
Then broke into familiar irritation.
A nearby staff member quietly stepped back.
Two Tony Starks arguing was… a lot.
Eventually, Future Tony sighed.
"Focus," he said. "What's the plan?"
Tony leaned back, thinking.
"Honestly?"
He shrugged.
"It's one stone."
He started counting off on his fingers.
"We've got the Sorcerer Supreme. Multiple hero teams. Mutants. Enhanced individuals. And Noah."
He looked back at the report.
"Whatever this is—we can handle it."
Confidence.
Unshaken.
Future Tony nodded slowly.
"…Probably."
Then added:
"Still. Maybe we double-check."
Tony tilted his head.
"You mean—"
"Yeah," Future Tony said. "Let's ask the Sorcerer Supreme to take a look. See how this plays out."
Tony considered it.
Then nodded.
"Fair."
He smirked slightly.
"If it's messy, we escalate."
A beat.
"If it's really messy… we call Noah."
The decision was made.
Just like that.
Far from Earth—
The convergence had begun.
The Nine Realms aligned.
And through the thinning barriers—
Something slipped through.
Malekith stood aboard his warship, staring down at Asgard.
This was it.
The moment he had waited for.
The chance to reclaim the Aether.
To plunge the universe into darkness.
His voice carried quiet, burning hatred.
"I swore I would return," he said. "That I would finish what was started."
The ship descended.
Weapons ready.
Armies prepared.
He stepped forward—
And stopped.
Below him—
Asgard stood.
Silent.
Empty.
No guards.
No soldiers.
No people.
Just abandoned structures and scattered remnants of a hurried departure.
Malekith blinked.
"…Where is everyone?"
...
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