The battlefield had narrowed into a singular moment.
Thanos stood, inches from reclaiming the Nano Gauntlet. His armor was fractured, but his presence remained terrifying—calculated and cruel. He towered over the remnants of the battlefield, gaze fixed on his goal. Each step he took was measured, as if the destruction around him meant nothing. He was the storm given form, an inevitability striding toward annihilation.
Across from him, Carol Danvers lay motionless, her cosmic aura flickering after the devastating blow from the Power Stone. Smoke and ash drifted in the air, and the eerie quiet that followed the massive strike made the moment feel suspended in time. The Gauntlet rested between them, still humming with a low, ominous pulse. Every hero could see it, feel it—their last hope lying exposed.
To the side, Alexander stood amidst the scorched earth and broken stone, breathing hard. His armor was cracked, dark smoke rising from multiple burns. His cloak was torn, barely holding onto his shoulders. Shadows bled from his body like smoke, rising and curling as if they, too, were waiting for a command. He stared at the Gauntlet, at Thanos, and at the ruin surrounding them all. Behind his expressionless gaze, a storm of memories churned.
Tony staggered forward, wiping blood from his mouth. His eyes locked on Alexander's. "We're out of time," he muttered, barely audible over the distant fires.
But then—
Doctor Strange raised one finger.
Not to Tony.
To Alexander.
Alexander froze, his eyes widening ever so slightly.
A pulse of clarity echoed through his chest. For a moment, the battlefield disappeared. In his mind, flickers of everything he'd fought for rushed back—Wakanda, New York, the Sanctum, the children saved by his shadows, the thousands he protected from behind veils of darkness. His first encounter with the Avengers. His quiet resolve not to outshine them. His battles with Ultron, with Maw, and everything in between. It had all led to this.
He took a breath.
"This... is what I was made for," he whispered.
He took a step forward, slow and deliberate.
Tony caught his arm. "What are you doing?"
Alexander looked him in the eye, the weight of galaxies behind his gaze. "Finishing it."
Tony's face tensed. He didn't argue. In that instant, he understood. This wasn't about glory. It was about necessity. He stepped aside.
Thanos reached down, lifting the Gauntlet.
Alexander's shadows exploded outward. Vines of darkness tore from the ground, wrapping around Thanos' arm, clawing at the Gauntlet. The Titan roared and twisted, trying to wrench it free. His fury was volcanic.
The stones shifted.
One by one, they were pulled from the Gauntlet's sockets. The Mind Stone, the Space Stone, the Time Stone—each glowing fiercely as they levitated into the air. Reality distorted around them, the sheer force of the stones' proximity warping space.
Alexander extended his hand, and the stones embedded into the bracer of his armor. His Shadow System shimmered wildly, almost breaking from the overload. Black flame surged around him, his body trembling. The stones' energy surged through his veins, cracking his armor, glowing like molten rivers.
Pain sliced through his spine, his veins glowing bright purple and gold. The shadows screamed, as if mourning. Nortis, Noctis, and Vasili stood at the edge of the field, watching silently, sensing the cost.
Thanos turned, eyes wide. "No..."
Alexander, barely able to stand, clenched his fist. Cracks ran up his arms. The stones flared, their power barely contained. The glow from his bracer pulsed with chaotic energy, each second testing his limits. Lightning and darkness tangled through the sky above him. The earth rumbled beneath his feet, as if the planet itself could feel the strain.
He looked at the battlefield. At Tony, Steve, Thor. At Wanda, still shielding children. At Rocket dragging an injured Bucky behind cover. At Valkyrie bleeding on the field, her sword driven into the ground to hold herself upright. At Shuri and Okoye, watching from a distance, eyes wide with hope and fear. At the heroes who had become his family, even if they didn't fully know it.
At the hope they still carried.
He closed his eyes.
"I was forged in darkness... but I'll end this in light."
He snapped.
Time broke.
A wave of blinding energy expanded from his body, sweeping across the battlefield. The noise vanished for a moment—only the pulse of energy thrummed in everyone's ears. Then, dust.
Cull Obsidian dissolved into ash, mouth open mid-charge. Corvus Glaive reached out to strike one final blow—his blade turned to dust before it could land. Chitauri dropped from the sky, their vessels unmanned as their pilots vanished. The roar of war quieted into silence.
Thanos stood in the center of it all. His blade clanged to the ground. He staggered back, knees buckling. He sat down, slowly, breathing hard. His eyes lifted once toward the horizon. Then his form crumbled into ash and drifted away.
And Alexander...
He collapsed.
The stones flickered on his arm, and then dimmed.
His body lay motionless, shadows receding.
To be continued.
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