Dormammu no longer carried himself with the pride of a former multiversal powerhouse.
He had reverted to the same groveling state he'd been in eons ago—a lowly fire necromancer in the Dark Dimension, flattering anyone stronger than himself.
"My lord, I can help you devour the realms of Mephisto… or Chthon!"
Survive—that was all that mattered.
Only by living could there be a future. Just as it had always been.
And besides… maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.
Dormammu kept chanting this in his mind, his expression twisting into an awkward smile, voice dripping with humility, as though he had already accepted his fate.
Russell's eyes burned with a piercing light, as if they could see straight through Dormammu's soul.
He smiled faintly.
"You? You couldn't even protect your own dimension, and now you want to help me devour someone else's?"
Dormammu ignored the mockery and continued to grovel.
**"What's lost is lost. But if I can help you devour one of their realms, perhaps you could grant me a few dimensional fragments?
It doesn't need to be much—just enough for me to become a low-level dimensional lord."**
Unlike great realms such as the Dark Dimension, the Black Magic Dimension, or the Hell Dimension—each of which spans multiple timelines—there are countless smaller, low-level dimensions tied to reality itself.
The rulers of these lesser realms hold absolute power only within their own dimensions, and only a select few can even step into true reality.
Russell raised an eyebrow, his tone almost amused.
"You're far more confident than I am. Very well—tell me, if it's truly possible, why shouldn't I give you a fragment?"
Dormammu's eyes lit up.
"My lord, please allow me to enter your mind. At your level, you understand the nature of the multiverse. Though it is not quite 'all that is spoken is known,' anything tied to one's fate will resonate within their spirit."
Russell gave a slight nod. Dormammu was telling the truth.
When he had only been a singular entity, Russell could already sense when someone spoke his name. Now, as a multiversal being, that ability had only grown sharper.
And with the Kingdom of the Mind under his control, he had no fear of Dormammu trying anything deceitful.
Dormammu's form shimmered within Russell's gaze—and vanished into a pocket dimension.
Moments later, he reappeared.
Russell didn't speak. He simply closed his fist, imprisoning Dormammu once more before banishing him back into the pocket realm.
Then he looked down at Loki, who was still kneeling. After a moment's thought, he granted Loki a spark of power, then kicked him back into the TVA.
Russell had no interest in ruling the TVA himself—he would be leaving this world soon.
That mark of power would allow Loki to act as his proxy. And if the time came, Russell could give him direct orders.
With the timeline issues settled, it was time for Russell to fulfill another promise.
A time portal opened before him.
Stepping through, Russell emerged into the Sacred Timeline.
The branches of time where he had intervened—and killed—were gone. But in his mind, his promises still remained.
New Asgard.
Because the course of events had changed, Thor had not left Earth to wander aimlessly.
Now, he ruled Asgard.
But different races brought inevitable friction—especially between civilizations.
The United Nations was holding a meeting of the World Security Council.
The conference hall was packed.
On the left sat Thor, God of Thunder and King of Asgard. On the right were five members of the Security Council. Below them were rows of reporters and cameras flashing endlessly.
This was the third meeting of its kind.
The Council's stance was clear: Asgard must either leave Earth, or relinquish its advanced technology in exchange for a small territory.
Thor had already decided to give up some of Asgard's technology—but only in exchange for suitable land and adequate resources.
In the past, he would have considered such demands an insult and refused outright.
But as a ruler, one had to face reality.
The Avengers could offer little help here—you can't expect someone with a shield, a bow, or a suit of armor to solve political disputes.
After all, this was far more difficult than propping up an elderly president who could barely function. One wrong move, and the whole thing could fall apart.
The conference room was in an uproar.
Thor's mind wasn't as quick as the politicians across the table, but his voice was louder than all of them combined.
When he couldn't win an argument, thunder would rumble in the room.
After another roll of thunder, a milky-white halo suddenly illuminated the entire hall.
Those present thought the God-King had lost his temper and was about to unleash his power. They tensed immediately.
But the next second, a familiar figure stepped out from within the light.
Yes—very familiar.
Because now, in churches all across Earth, the statues in place of Jesus were of the man standing before them.
At least three-quarters of the room's occupants instantly became wide-eyed with devotion, many dropping to their knees in reverence.
Normally, Russell wouldn't have cared.
But these were genuine believers—and the most devout among them, upon death, would enter the Kingdom of God and continue to fuel his divine power.
"God!"
"Great Lord!"
"God above!"
The praises rang out one after another. Even several members of the Security Council, who had been seated moments earlier, quickly rose to their feet and bowed.
Russell ignored their formalities.
He simply waved his hand, sending out a wave of soft, white light that settled over the believers—driving away illness, clearing fatigue, and filling them with vitality.
Under the holy glow, the change in them was visible to the naked eye.
The scene was broadcast live across the globe. Given the significance of both Asgard and Earth in this meeting, countless people were watching.
Russell could feel it—a surge of faith-power flooding into him, stronger than before.
Earth's faith was potent; no wonder Chthon coveted human souls so much.
With a sigh, Russell turned to Thor and asked with mild irritation,
"Why are you still on Earth? I told you to rebuild Asgard before I left."
Thor looked confused.
After an awkward pause, he explained his reasoning.
Russell nearly rolled his eyes. Rebuilding Asgard meant building another Asgard—not playing house on Earth.
He sighed.
"Fine… at least it's better than what I expected."
"But I need you for something. Come with me."
Thor hesitated, saying this was a critical moment in negotiations with the Security Council and it might take time.
Several Council members cursed inwardly. Thor had changed—now he was using outside power to pressure them. And with this god present, the scales were completely tipped.
Before the Council could even respond, Russell said casually,
"No need for all this trouble. Asgard will live on the moon from now on."
The room froze.
The moon? How could anyone survive there?
Before they could speak, everyone felt an odd pull in their hearts. They instinctively looked upward.
The conference hall's dome vanished, revealing a full moon hanging in the sky.
Then, blinding white light burst from its surface—like a second sun.
After several breaths, the light faded.
In its place was a planet—complete with atmosphere, mountains, oceans, and continents.
Another miracle.
And this time, it wasn't some ethereal vision—it was tangible, real.
Countless people stared upward, feeling as though they were looking at a second Earth.
Hearts raced. Souls trembled.
More believers were born in that instant.
On that day, another chapter was written into the New Bible:
November 25, 2023.
God so loved the world… that He created World Five.
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