Every step Alex Ray took through the formless void felt like wading through the edge of time itself. Chaos and darkness stretched endlessly around him, and the occasional twinkle of starlight was nothing more than a lonely ornament in the vast abyss.
He had followed Alioth's demonic cloud trail all the way, and just when his strength was about to give out, he finally discovered an invisible entrance.
If not for the energy he absorbed from the Space Stone, Alex would never have found it.
Why had he gone to such lengths to find Loki, the God of Stories?
Logically, there was still a power gap between Alex Ray and this incarnation of Loki. If Loki truly meant him harm, his life would be forfeit.
But Alex didn't believe Loki would hurt him. After all, Loki now existed beyond mere trickery—he had ascended as a cosmic storyteller. To someone like him, Alex Ray should be insignificant. Loki could snuff out his world with the mere snip of a timeline.
In Alex's mind, Loki held godlike authority: he could rewrite destiny, bend continuity, and prune reality with ease. If he truly wanted Alex dead, it would've already happened.
And yet, Loki had never shown hostility.
On the contrary, he had sent him guidance in dreams.
That was why Alex Ray believed there had to be a deeper connection—something hidden, something important.
Ever since that strange dream, Alex had been seeking an audience with the God of Stories. He had questions. Questions only Loki could answer.
And now, finally, he stood at the end of time.
What once belonged to Kang the Conqueror—the Citadel at the End of Time—was now Loki's domain. A prison and a palace. A monument and a cage.
Crossing the threshold was like stepping beyond existence. What lay beyond unfolded into a scene so magnificent and surreal, it was hard to believe it belonged to any reality.
There stood the World Tree—not just Yggdrasil, but a multiversal structure that anchored time, space, and everything in between. Its roots pierced into the abyss, and its branches stretched through infinity, carrying a weight that defied imagination.
Light filtered through the shimmering leaves like drifting fragments of time itself, cascading across the throne room in ethereal green and gold.
Alex took a deep breath, inhaling the fusion of ancient power and newborn timelines. His chest stirred with awe… and anticipation.
He stepped forward, his feet finding purchase on natural branches that had folded into a path. Every step forward felt like passing through an epoch.
Bubbles floated in the air—glimmering, kaleidoscopic spheres. Each one carried an entire world, a complete narrative within it.
He glimpsed Captain America clashing with Iron Man.
Hawkeye firing at Deadpool.
Black Widow and Tony Stark sharing a forbidden kiss.
Spider-Man donning the stars and stripes as the new Captain America.
Worlds upon worlds, infinite in possibility.
But Alex didn't stop to marvel. His goal lay deeper still.
Beyond the spectacle, at the very heart of this realm, sat the throne—and upon it, Loki, God of Time, God of Stories.
The farther Alex walked, the more solemn and strange his surroundings became. The weight of history pressed upon him like gravity.
And then, he arrived.
There was Loki.
Clad in emerald armor woven with cosmic runes, crowned with a headdress of twisting horns encrusted with jewels, he gripped a scepter formed from branches of the World Tree itself. Each branch was a timeline, flowing like golden threads through his fingers.
His cloak was not cloth—it was made from the weft and weave of time itself. A cloak of stories.
Alex stood still, heart pounding.
He stared at Loki, searching for something—recognition, hostility, anything.
He had no idea how long Loki had been sitting there.
A thousand years?
A million?
Longer?
With the power to command time and reality, Loki was both omnipotent and bound—his curse and throne were one.
He could leave.
But if he did… the multiverse would collapse.
Stories would unravel. Continuity would burn.
For the first time, Alex Ray understood the burden of divinity.
Loki, this aloof and untouchable god, was also a prisoner—chained to time.
His identity was intertwined with the balance of existence itself.
Alex couldn't help but wonder—if Loki needed to eat, or use the bathroom… could he?
His imagination spun a ridiculous series of mental images, absurd and awkward, dragging the god back into the realm of mortals.
Then—
Loki opened his eyes.
Deep.
Dark.
Limitless.
They seemed to swallow time itself. They saw through realities.
And they were amused.
"You've got quite the imagination," Loki said softly. "But no—at our level, food is irrelevant. Energy doesn't come from eating. We consume stories, not meals."
His voice was calm, rich, teasing—like someone talking to a friend after eons apart.
Alex smiled awkwardly.
He knew exactly who Loki referred to.
One of the Five Cosmic Entities of Marvel.
Galactus. The Devourer of Worlds.
Who devoured planets like candy bars.
Alex remained quiet, watching Loki intently.
He wanted answers.
What did Loki know?
What kind of enemies lay ahead?
"Alex Ray," Loki finally said.
"It's been a long, long time."
His voice held gravity and warmth. A familiarity that should've been impossible.
Alex's breath caught.
What?
How?
Had they met before?
He knew Loki wasn't talking about the dream. This was something else.
Something older.
He was only 24.
That was a blink in Loki's eyes.
So what was Loki referring to?
Had he already traveled to the Marvel Universe before… without remembering it?
Could it be that he hadn't come from Earth at all?
Then why did he have memories of the Marvel Universe?
Why did he think he came from another world?
Loki laughed quietly as Alex's expression shifted from shock to dread.
"You look like someone who just discovered the punchline of a very old joke," Loki said. "Relax. The last time I met you… it wasn't you, exactly."
Alex's mouth went dry.
"What… do you mean?"
Loki leaned forward.
"I met your past life."
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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