Battle Beneath a Fractured Sky
The sky rains ash as Noir Vale advances, chains coiling around him like serpents of despair. The ground quakes. The ruins begin to collapse under ancient fury.
Alex lifts the Unmending Blade, glowing so brightly it seems to pull the torn sky into its light. His voice, raw, echoes:
"I'm not the guy you broke me for."
Vale stops. He stares with eyes that hold centuries of pain.
"Then prove it."
And the world shatters into motion.
Butcher charges with a roaring bellow, swinging the combat axe like a wrecking ball. Only for its head to be swatted aside by a blackened tendril. Butcher regains, rolls through debris, and slashes at the tendrils threatening Alex—sacrificial protection grim but necessary.
Frenchie & Kimiko flank from the side. Kimiko strikes at roots that sprout bone-like spikes in Vale's wake. Frenchie lays cover fire, chanting in French invectives so profane you feel the forest retreat.
Hughie draws his pistol, only to realize bullets evaporate against Vale's aura. He reloads with trembling hands, more determined than afraid, firing every shot at the beast's legs, somehow freezing them with sympathetic terror.
Deadpool unpredictably darts in, tossing grenades that sputter out before the explosion even forms. He opens his mouth to insult Vale, launching a stand-up routine in the middle of combat, two katanas flashing left and right.
"Hey Vale-buddy! Got any other undead relatives? Because the family reunion's going great except we hate funerals!"
All the while, Alex stands near Vale, sword honed to its own heartbeat. The suppressive field flickers, interference pulses.
Finally, the sword shatters Vale's flesh. But instead of disintegration, the creature howls—like a dying star collapsing, like your nightmares losing shape.
In that instant, Alex's connection is complete. The blade surges with white-hot brilliance, outshining the night.
With a cry approaching... a hero's roar, he drives the sword deeper into Vale's chest, cleaving through the immortal wound. Energy flashes in arcs—chain links snap, ruins fall silent, and the sky above rips into night again.
Valeless on one knee, Vale reaches out with hollow eyes.
"I carry every war… I carry the end…"
Alex plants his sword firmly and responds:
"Then I'll bear the start."
With one last pulse of energy, Vale's body explodes into motes of black and gold dust, drifting up into silence. The eclipse above collapses. The storm is gone.
The team, battered and shaken, gathers around a dying bonfire of ruins.
Deadpool flops dramatically, hands behind his head, staring up at empty sky.
"Look at that... we actually did it. Clairvoyant goth horse riddle solved. That's gonna be such a therapy exercise."
Butcher just digs his boot into the dust.
"We kill monsters. We don't hug 'em. Let's go."
Alex holds the Unmending Blade high. The Gauntlet hums back to life—flicker of power, spark of new purpose.
[Artifact Stored: Backpack & Inventory Secured]
They climb into the van, bruised but united, racing through the forest now quiet in its mourning.
In the Depths of Space
The Black Throne—a structure not built, but carved from a single asteroid, glowing with veins of dying stars. It floats in a vacuum so silent it swallows sound.
Upon it sits Thanos—armored in his regal wargear, boots dangling over cosmic abyss. Purple-skinned and vast, he's more myth than man.
He holds the Infinity Gauntlet in one hand, empty and silent. He tilts his head, pondering distant galaxies with a calm, eternal patience.
The void around him pulses with power… but in the darkness, another presence stirs.
The Arrival of Doom
A ripple splits reality—the slow folding open of a rendezvous no mortal should ever witness. And in the open space between stars stands Doctor Doom, cloaked in armor that glimmers gold and steel, eyes glowing beneath his hood.
His cape flutters without breeze, cosmic energy crackling beneath his gauntleted palms.
Thanos stands, slowly, measured.
Thanos: "Doom. Your requests echo across realms. Why bring judgment to my throne?"
Doom takes a step forward.
Doctor Doom (cold, unstoppable): "This throne has grown weak. The Titan has fallen from legend into luxury. What claim this relic holds is yours no longer."
Thanos's purple lips twitch.
"Still… I remain Thanos, the great Titan."
Doom steps forward, voice cold like black matter condensed.
"A relic, even of your legend. Unworthy of this throne."
Thanos smiles—just the slimmest edge of amusement.
Thanos: "I am inevitable."
Lightning arcs along Doom's armor.
Doctor Doom: "So you claim. And yet, even inevitability bends before sovereignty."
Time halts, stars shiver, and in the blink of an eye:
Doom lunges upward—an explosion of metal and hatred. His gauntlet shoots forward, energy crackling like a neutron star set ablaze.He grips Thanos's spine—meticulously, violently.In one wrenching motion, Doom rips Thanos's spine clean through his torso, bone and marrow and myths torn apart.
The Fall
Thanos's arms drop lifeless. The Gauntlet slides from his hand, floating away like a silent promise unmet.He staggers—then tips off the Throne, falling into the void below.
No scream.
No cosmic backlash.
Just void.
Doom Ascends the Throne
Doom stands, body height dwarfed by the throne's enormity, hand dripping with genetic power. He looks down at the shattered seat and the pulsing glow of Thanos's discarded armor on the floor.
He places his gauntleted hand upon the back of the Throne as though reclaiming what was never his.
Doctor Doom: "Here, in this silence, I claim a new dominion. One forged in iron will, not cosmic temperaments."
Lightning dims. Stars rearrange. The void acknowledges a new follower.He leans forward, gazing into the blackness.
Doctor Doom (softly, single voice carrying infinite echoes):"Let the universe heed me."
Doom seated on the Black Throne—his silhouette dark against nebulae of decay. The Infinity Gauntlet rests on his lap—Thanos's legacy in his hands.
A cold smile curls behind the mask.
The chapter closes with only one thought:
"All worlds will kneel before DOOM."