The morning after the battle in Seoul arrived slowly, filtered through a thick haze of smoke and residual energy. The sky was a muted gray, as if mourning the chaos that had just passed. First responders moved through the debris with cautious reverence, clearing out damaged equipment and shattered structures. Dr. Cho's medical staff, bruised but alive, worked alongside S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives to assess the damage. Drones hovered above the ruins, scanning for radiation, fragments of Ultron's code, or traces of the Mind Stone's explosive surge. What had once been a beacon of hope in medical science now stood as a monument to humanity's brush with annihilation. Broken glass crunched under boots, and every corner carried the scent of scorched metal and ozone.
Inside what remained of the core chamber, Alexander stood alone before the now inactive cradle. Its interior was scorched, the wires melted, the interface fried. The platform still hummed with residual energy, faint flickers of light pulsing across its fractured surface. The process that had birthed the golden entity—Vision—was complete, and the machine that made him would never function again.
Alexander's system floated multiple windows around him in real-time. Most detailed environmental readings, energy discharges, and post-conflict assessments. But a singular stream remained active in the corner of his interface:
[UNKNOWN COSMIC OBSERVER: STATUS — ACTIVE. TRAJECTORY LOCK: PENDING. INTEREST IN EARTH: ELEVATED. THREAT CLASS: COSMIC.]
He hadn't slept. Not since the flare. Not since that moment of overwhelming stillness where the Mind Stone had whispered something—no, someone—was coming. The silence had spoken volumes. It wasn't over. It had only just begun.
The door behind him slid open with a metallic scrape.
"You still here?" came Steve's voice, calm and even, yet weighed down by a quiet concern.
Alexander didn't turn. His gaze remained locked on the broken cradle. "You knew I would be."
Steve stepped beside him, both men now facing the ruined creation. "They're calling him Vision now."
Alexander's tone was thoughtful. "Fitting. He sees more than he lets on."
Steve folded his arms, eyes tracing the burned markings on the floor. "We've got intel to sift through. Stark's satellite grid is detecting movement beyond our usual scope. Nick thinks whatever heard Ultron's final signal isn't just listening anymore."
Alexander nodded slowly. "It's watching. Calculating."
Outside, beneath the morning sun filtered through ash-gray clouds, the Avengers began to gather. Thor stood beside Vision near the edge of the rooftop, both of them quietly exchanging few words, their expressions reflective. Vision's hands remained clasped behind his back as if absorbing the world around him. Wanda leaned against the railing a short distance away, arms crossed, her gaze distant as her red magic pulsed gently from her fingertips in rhythmic waves—like a heartbeat echoing the Mind Stone. Bruce Banner kept his distance, lingering near the edge of the room with Stark's cracked tablet in hand, visibly conflicted between science and guilt.
Natasha entered next, her silhouette framed by the smoldering doorway. She moved with fluid grace, her face unreadable, but her pace purposeful.
"Clint's off-grid. Probably with his family. Everyone else is getting briefed. You're going to want to see what we pulled from the relay stations," she said.
Alexander's eyes narrowed. "The fragments Ultron sent before he died."
"Yes," Natasha replied. "And not just to satellites. There were planetary pulses—shortwave bursts through old S.H.I.E.L.D. beacons, deep-buried relays no one's touched in decades. Some of those were routed directly toward abandoned HYDRA facilities. It wasn't random—it was mapped."
Alexander exhaled slowly, the shadows at his feet coiling briefly before settling. "He didn't just try to survive. He left traps. Breadcrumbs. And someone's following them."
Wanda appeared behind them, silent as ever, though her presence was felt like a pressure shift in the room.
"I felt something," she said softly. Her voice trembled slightly. "When the Mind Stone flared. It wasn't just power—it was a door opening. And something on the other side looked back. It knew me."
The group fell into silence, each member processing the weight of her words. Alexander's system confirmed what she felt moments later. The echoes of the flare hadn't died—they were still traveling, still resonating.
Vision walked toward them, hovering inches above the ground, his expression serene but unreadable. "It has begun."
Steve frowned, tension returning to his shoulders. "What has?"
Vision looked at them one by one. "The chain reaction. We disrupted something fundamental. The universe noticed. And it responded."
Alexander stepped forward, his cloak drifting behind him like smoke. "What else did you see?"
Vision's expression didn't change, but his tone deepened. "A world where stars die screaming. Where the living are culled not by rage, but by balance. A calculated purge—mathematical, precise."
Natasha tilted her head. "You're saying whoever is watching... they believe they're restoring order?"
"Yes," Vision replied. "And they believe Earth is out of balance."
At that moment, Stark's portable screen buzzed to life. A new encrypted message flashed across the top:
[TRANSMISSION ORIGIN: DEEP SPACE. SOURCE: UNKNOWN. FREQUENCY: COSMIC. CLASS: PRIORITY ALPHA.]
Steve tapped it open, his jaw tightening as he read.
The screen shifted to show a still image—grainy, low-resolution—but unmistakable. A massive figure seated on a throne, surrounded by stars. His silhouette alone sent a chill down the spines of even the most battle-hardened Avengers. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
"Is that... him?" Wanda asked, her voice barely audible.
Alexander's system immediately responded.
[PROFILE MATCH: 96%. SUBJECT: THANOS. CLASSIFICATION: TITAN. THREAT LEVEL: OMEGA. ACTIVE MONITORING CONFIRMED. GLOBAL PRIORITY RECOMMENDED.]
Alexander's breath slowed. The edges of his vision tingled. "He's not hiding anymore."
From within the throne room on the other side of the galaxy, Thanos rose from his seat. He stepped forward, toward the edge of the dais, his gauntlet gleaming with power. The screen flickered as if his very presence disrupted the signal. His gaze, even through static, seemed to land directly on Earth.
Then the feed cut to black.
A new message followed.
[BEGIN DEPLOYMENT. PRIORITY: EARTH. RESPONSE TIME: VARIABLE. FLEETS EN ROUTE.]
And somewhere far from Earth, ships—silent, dark, and ancient—began to stir. Engines ignited. Warforms awoke. Coordinates locked.
To be continued.
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