Martin sensed Wolverine's temporal traversal almost immediately.
The Time Stone, as the cosmic anchor of an entire universe's temporal laws, reacts to any event tied to time within its domain.
But… so what?
Martin couldn't be bothered to care.
With the Time Stone in hand, countless timelines lay at his fingertips, fractals of destiny he could collapse or reshape at will.
He returned to Earth's base alongside Kratos.
All seemed settled. The dust had cleared.
But in the tangled circuits of Earth's internet, a lurking crisis was fermenting, a digital storm building momentum. Once it breached its critical threshold, it would explode.
And all of humanity would pay the price for Dr. Hank Pym's magnificent invention.
Martin, however, had no interest in babysitting human consequences.
"Kratos," he said, lounging comfortably in his chair, gazing down at the battle-scarred warrior kneeling reverently before him. "You're the first, and only, demigod I've taken under my wing. Your blood makes you a natural vessel for divine power."
A smile touched Martin's lips, tinged with appreciation.
"You bear the bloodline of Zeus. But that alone isn't enough. Your potential caps at his level. That's not worthy of my cause. You must surpass it. You must become something far more, so that you can clear the battlefield of all who stand in my way."
He picked up the axe Kratos had brought back, Ares' weapon of war.
Not bad. But after witnessing the sheer power of Optimus Prime's sword, this axe looked like little more than a primitive relic.
With a flick of his hand, Martin summoned Shockwave.
Pointing to Kratos, he commanded, "Forge him a divine weapon, code designation: Artifact-227. Also, deliver the blood samples of every pantheon to Ratchet. I want him to decode the genomic sequence of the World Tree pantheon and uncover the unique traits of divine energy. We need to know: can gods be artificially engineered?"
Shockwave received the directive and immediately began compiling a solution within his cerebral cortex. He didn't spare Kratos even a glance.
Cold as ever, the cyclopean scientist only ever acknowledged two beings: Martin and Megatron.
"Creator," Shockwave said flatly, "the machine known as Ultron will return in time. It will attack this base. We currently lack a high-level intelligence officer capable of precise surveillance and defense."
Martin waved it off. "Ignore it for now. Without a few years of development, that hunk of code won't amount to anything."
Ultron?
A few years?
Martin chuckled inwardly. By that time, he'd likely have collected four or five Infinity Stones, someone would be dead, that was certain.
Besides, his AllSpark was the natural bane of all synthetic life. If Ultron dared show its face, Martin would crush it like a bug.
Let the Earthlings worry about that mess.
Rising to his feet, Martin clapped a heavy hand on Kratos's shoulder. "I see great potential in you. You crave war? No problem. The World Tree, the cosmos, even the infinite multiverse itself, will be your battlefield. But your strength is lacking. My subordinates will conduct biological experiments on you. If you survive, you may gain the powers of every divine lineage. It might even complete your genetic sequence."
Martin had long nurtured a hypothesis:
Could the essence of multiple third-generation gods be combined to forge a being whose blood approached that of a second-generation deity?
Among those second-gens, the most terrifying were the Four Elder Gods, each monstrous beyond comprehension.
If the project failed, no matter. It was a fair deal. Kratos had sought him out, desperate for power and war.
Fairness, true fairness, was the rarest luxury in the world. But often, it was also the most terrifying.
Suddenly, Martin narrowed his eyes.
He turned sharply, gazing into the distance.
From that direction, a surge of potent magical and spiritual energy was erupting, accompanied by the rot of a mortal body, like a god ascending through entropy and decay.
Without hesitation, Martin tore open a time-space corridor and stepped into Kamar-Taj.
"The Sorcerer Supreme awaits you," said a portly man who rushed forward the moment he saw Martin.
"She's finally made her decision?" Martin asked casually.
Wong offered a bitter smile. "It's not about making a choice. The Ancient One's body has decayed too far. It can no longer contain her immense soul."
Martin strode into the Grand Hall.
There, he saw the Ancient One's luminous soul, its light subtle, almost hidden.
"Take some time to travel," he said indifferently. "If you stay caged on Earth too long, you'll truly go mad."
The gathered Masters of the Mystic Arts frowned slightly, but none spoke.
Martin had earned the right to speak this way to the former Sorcerer Supreme.
The Ancient One's soul shimmered faintly. She looked at him deeply. "Martin… I will use the infinite paths of the multiverse to uncover your true origin. A being like you… cannot be native to Earth."
Martin swept her a dismissive glance. "If you manage to find it, I'll consider that a loss."
Her expression shifted. The seed of a thought was already sprouting in her mind.
"Here's some advice, Ancient One, stay away from the Vishanti. Don't cling to them just because they're your so-called patrons. It'll get you killed. Even they have enemies, ones terrifying enough that the Vishanti themselves must retreat."
Martin's voice carried a rare thread of sincerity.
In the multiverse, even entities as mighty as the Vishanti faced monstrous threats.
One such being… was Shuma-Gorath.
In the comics, Shuma-Gorath was the very entity that ultimately slew the Ancient One, utterly annihilating her soul.
Blind faith in the Vishanti only paved a sure path to oblivion.
"Thank you for the warning, Martin," the Ancient One replied with a serene smile, though how much she truly believed remained unclear.
The gathered sorcerers all bowed deeply.
Stephen Strange stepped forward solemnly, accepting the Eye of Agamotto and the Book of the Vishanti. From this moment, he bore the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme, the guardian of Earth's arcane balance.
It was a burden few could shoulder.
Even the Ancient One herself had only barely maintained equilibrium, staving off apocalyptic catastrophe by sheer force of will.
Her soul began to ascend, transfigured into pure radiance.
From the deepest folds of the multiverse, ancient magics surged forth to guide her passage.
The Vishanti were watching.
Their gaze stretched across realities.
Just a glimpse of their divine attention drenched the air in pressure. Everyone broke into a cold sweat, barely daring to breathe.
Martin's face hardened.
Three Infinity Stones shimmered on his hand, releasing waves of counter-force to shield him from the oppressive presence.
For the first time, Martin personally experienced the sheer scale of a multiversal-level entity's gaze.
It was terrifying beyond articulation.
It felt as though even a passing whim from the Vishanti could solidify into the very cosmic laws governing reality.
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