Creators' Headquarters, Underground Core
Blue light pulsed across a massive time machine, data streams flickering on holographic screens. Doctor Doom stood at the console, his metal mask glinting, fingers tracing the machine's projection. "Perfect," he rasped. "This world bends to my will."
The alloy door slid open. "Creator," Reed Richards—pale, eyes numb—entered. "Loki's here with urgent news."
Doom didn't turn. "Let him in."
Loki glided in, Asgardian robes flowing, Eternal Spear in hand, a sly smile playing. "Creator," he bowed slightly. "Hope I'm not interrupting your grand work."
Doom's eyes narrowed. "Cut to it, Loki."
Loki's smile held. "A dimensional barrier fluctuation." He conjured a magical projection of New York's anomalous energy readings.
Reed pulled up data. "Quantum-level disturbance, quickly vanished."
Doom's lips curled. "Rats have slipped in."
Loki raised a brow. "Shall I handle it?"
"No," Doom waved. "Monitor. If they challenge our order, I'll show them despair."
After Loki left, Doom operated the console. "Richards, pull all anomaly reports, last 72 hours."
Reed complied, screens displaying global data. Doom asked, "Anything odd with Howard Stark?"
Reed shook his head. "He's focused on tech, no dissent."
Doom's eyes narrowed. "Watch him. A genius never bows."
Reed bowed. "Understood."
New York, Dark Alley
A blue vortex twisted, spitting out figures. A red-and-blue-clad hero staggered up, his suit scarred. "We made it?" Spider-Man's white eye-lenses narrowed.
"We're in the past, but the time node's off," Future Reed said, voice weary but resolute.
Thor gripped his axe, lightning in his lone eye. "Can we still fix this?"
Steve Rogers, shield cracked, said, "Wrong node or not, time's short. Move."
Captain Britain, Brian Braddock, scanned the dark, energy sword glowing. "The Creators' eyes are everywhere. Stay low."
Harry Osborn lowered his hood. "Find Howard Stark, this timeline's key."
Spider-Man adjusted his wrist device. "Records say Howard's working on a machine. We have a shot."
Reed nodded. "Our goal was to stop Doom's time machine and ensure heroes' births. Since the node's wrong, we adapt—find Howard, use his machine."
Thor glared at the sky. "Loki and Hela are the Creators' claws."
Steve ordered, "To Stark Industries, now." They vanished into the night.
Stark Tower, 300 Meters Below
A heavy alloy door opened, Howard leading James, Tony, Wanda, and Kara into a hidden lab. A half-finished machine stood, blue light pulsing through conduits. "My research," Howard said firmly. "A prototype time machine."
Tony scanned it. "Dad, you're copying the Creators' tech?"
Howard's smile was bitter. "Since I sensed this world's history was wrong, I've been investigating. If complete, this can fix the tampered timeline."
James's gold eyes pierced the machine. "Unstable energy conduits, incomplete core matrix."
Howard nodded. "I couldn't crack the temporal targeting algorithm. Their tech's too advanced."
Wanda's chaos magic flickered. "It's like an unfinished spell."
Kara scanned it. "Overload could blow this lab."
Howard took a breath. "My plan was to risk activating it if I confirmed the tampering."
Tony and James exchanged looks. "No gambling needed," Tony said. "We'll perfect it."
James agreed. "Not hard." His soul detached, possessing the computer, absorbing data. Howard, stunned, watched golden light envelop him. "What's he doing?"
"Magic and tech fusion," James replied, embedding runes into the core. "Now, our guests."
"Guests?" Howard's face fell.
Alarms blared. "Sir," Jarvis announced, "intruders bypassed security, heading here."
Howard paled. "Impossible! Only I know this lab's location!"
Tony's armor activated. "Someone leaked."
James's super vision pierced walls. "Superheroes."
Wanda's hands glowed scarlet. "Creators' hounds?"
"No," Kara frowned. "More like allies."
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