Tony's voice had shifted.
Stephen heard it immediately lower, serious. It wasn't banter anymore.
"Okay. Serious now. You keep saying that in all those timelines where we won the universe still fell. But you've never said how. What did you see, Stephen? What really caused it?"
The question hung in the air like a guillotine.
Stephen closed his eyes.
Vishanti help him, he couldn't do this.
He couldn't say aloud that in every one of those timelines every version where they won it ended with destruction. That he had sacrificed himself more times than he could count, leaving his children his children orphaned and broken. That Peter had been shattered by hate, lost to grief that Stephen had helped sow. That Wanda had gone mad across the multiverse. That he had destroyed entire realities in his desperation to save Christine.
And yet...Tony deserved the truth.
The man would sacrifice himself a hundred times if it meant saving others. Stephen knew that. Hell, he would too. But not yet. Not this truth. Not now.
He opened his mouth anyway.
"In every timeline, the universe ends because"
"@£$#&@£@—"
It came out as garbled nonsense.
Tony blinked. "Wait, what?"
Stephen tried again. "@£$@—"
He was pale. Too pale. A sickly gray-blue washed over his skin like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Tony's heart spiked. "Okay, nope. Gandalf, look at me. Are you having a stroke? This is stroke territory."
He turned his head, shouting upward.
"Friday, get Dr. Hanamura neuro, stat. Is he even on call today? Doesn't matter, I'll fly him in myself. Or have Chen cover till then. Stephen, let's go. I'm not letting your brain turn into-into mystic spaghetti code"
Stephen raised a hand, still eerily calm.
"Tony. Breathe. I assure you I'm not having a stroke."
"You just said '@£$@&@'. That's not even a word. That's what my coffee machine sounds like when it's done with life."
Stephen gave a tight smile, but repeated, "We need to take a breath."
Tony stared at him. "No. Strange. Not that. Before that."
Stephen looked at him like he had two heads.
Tony took a beat. Then turned to the ceiling.
"Friday, play it back."
"Of course," the AI replied. "'@£$@#&$@&. I know it's a lot to take in.'"
Tony's jaw tightened.
Stephen exhaled sharply, finally understanding. He slumped back onto the couch like a weight had dropped off his chest.
"Okay," Tony said flatly, arms crossed. "Dr. Stephen Vincent Strange. Explain before I override the lockdown and run protocol 'Stubborn Patient.' You don't want that."
Stephen snapped upright like the sofa had turned to knives. He downed the rest of his whiskey, then met Tony's eyes.
"Truthfully? I don't know what's happening. I came in ready to tell you everything. But something's stopping me. Some kind of fail-safe. Like... like a memory block cast by someone else or maybe the Time Stone itself."
He paused, rubbing his temple.
"I meant to tell you. I wanted to. But when I tried to say the cause… it came out scrambled. And what's worse? In every winning timeline where we sacrifice ourselves where we beat Thanos the universe still falls."
Tony was quiet for a moment.
Then he slowly lowered himself to sit on the coffee table, directly across from Stephen.
"So if I had to guess," he said softly, "@£$@ is us. We're the problem. We cause the end of the universe."
Before Stephen could respond, a voice echoed through the room.
"Oh, he is smart, Keeper Mine. I see why he is well loved. Why Space favors him."
Tony immediately stood. "Okay, Dumbledore, if this is a joke to lighten the mood, you missed the landing."
He glanced around, hand twitching toward the hidden gauntlet on his wrist.
Stephen groaned. "Take a breath, Tony. Sit."
Tony didn't move. His eyes burned into Stephen, whiskey-brown and sharp enough to cut steel.
The sorcerer swallowed.
"It's the Time Stone," he muttered. "That voice… I didn't know they could speak. They've shown me things echoes, visions but actual speech? That's new."
Tony huffed, then reluctantly sank onto the couch beside him. "Of course the ancient, reality-bending stones can talk. Why not? Seems on brand."
He rubbed his face.
"So, what, they just thought what I said was hilarious enough to warrant a cameo?"
The voice returned warm, feminine, ancient as starlight.
"Oh, Beloved Anthony. I may traverse countless timelines, but Stephen Keeper Mine can only bear so much. You must find the way yourselves. I can guide, but not reveal. The space I've secured for you is limited thirty days. After that, I must look away. Confer with your allies. Ready yourselves for the arrival of your space-bonded."
Tony blinked.
"That… didn't sound like good news."
"No," Stephen said quietly. "It wasn't."
Tony stood again, gears already turning in his head. He crossed the room to the AI terminal.
"Friday. Here's what we're doing."
He spoke calmly, voice back to battle mode.
"Let everyone involved in this cluster of a situation come to the compound. Quietly. I want everyone here briefed, locked down, and looped in."
"Understood," Friday replied.
"The Avengers are returning soon. Friendly aliens expected within days. Lock down this information Level 2 Yellow Alert, maximum discretion. I want a blackout on Ross. If he so much as sniffs this, ghost him."
"Ghosting General Ross," Friday said dryly. "Delightful."
"All combat units: double training. Add the Chitauri invasion sim to the rotation. If they ask why, it's classified. Weapons division: I want anti-alien ordinance ready for field testing within the week."
"Yes, boss."
"Oh and tell Happy that Peter, Harley, and Ned are grounded. No compound visits unless it's a medical emergency. Karen needs to remind Peter his lab access has been relocated to SI Tower."
Orders complete, Tony exhaled and turned back to Stephen.
His mask of control cracked just for a second.
He looked tired. Older. But clear-eyed.
And ready.
Stephen watched him quietly, heart tight.
The countdown had begun.
And they were running out of time.