Alex stood alone at the edge of the orbital station's observation ring, Earth turning slowly beneath him. From this height the planet looked calm, whole, untouched by the fractures running through reality or the wars yet to come. That illusion no longer fooled him.
He felt everything now.
Not as noise, not as pressure, but as awareness. Gravity wells, energy flows, probability currents. The universe no longer pushed against his senses; it spoke to them.
He reached inward and divided his attention.
The act of splitting himself would once have been dangerous. Now it was precise. Controlled. Six autonomous clones unfolded from his core architecture, each one a complete instance of Alex Price, carrying identical authority, knowledge, and loyalty. Their minds were independent but synchronized, bound by a higher coherence that prevented divergence.
Explorers, all of them.
One by one, they phased out of local space, heading toward distant universes, collapsed realities, dead civilizations, and sealed archives of forgotten gods. Each had a singular directive. Acquire knowledge. Secure technology. Eliminate existential threats before they reached Earth.
Alex watched them go without hesitation.
There was still work to do here.
His awareness turned inward again, deeper this time, beneath Earth's crust, past molten layers and pressure gradients that would crush conventional matter. There, buried within the planet itself, something vast stirred.
Tiamut.
The Celestial's presence was unmistakable now that Alex knew what to look for. A growing consciousness wrapped in embryonic armor, feeding on planetary energy, slowly reshaping Earth's interior to accommodate its eventual emergence. If allowed to awaken naturally, the planet would not survive the birth.
Alex would not allow that future.
He summoned Doctor Strange to the station, the Sorcerer Supreme arriving in a ripple of contained magic. Strange's expression was serious the moment he felt Alex's focus.
"You've sensed it," Strange said.
"Yes," Alex replied. "I want confirmation."
Strange raised his hand and conjured a layered temporal projection, countless possible futures branching and collapsing. One path stood out, heavy with inevitability.
"Five years," Strange said quietly. "That is when the Celestial emerges. Not tomorrow. Not next month. But it is fixed unless acted upon."
"Intervention alters the timeline," Alex said.
"It creates another," Strange corrected. "But some outcomes are unacceptable regardless of consequence."
Alex nodded. "Agreed."
They descended together to a sealed subterranean chamber Alex had constructed beneath the station's lowest level, a place shielded from detection by both technology and mysticism. Within it, advanced scanners mapped Tiamut's form in real time, every limb, every energy node, every embryonic thought.
The Celestial was not hostile yet.
It was unborn.
"I will not kill it," Alex said. "That would provoke retaliation from its kind. And I will not let it destroy Earth."
Strange watched carefully. "Then what is your solution?"
Alex raised his hand.
The Pym Particles responded instantly, refined far beyond their original design. They no longer relied on unstable quantum shortcuts or brute-force mass displacement. Alex had rewritten their operating principles, allowing size to be altered without corresponding energy imbalance.
"I will remove it," Alex said. "Shrink it. Extract it. Restore it to full size once it is no longer embedded within the planet."
Strange's brow furrowed. "You're talking about relocating a Celestial."
"Yes."
"That has never been done."
Alex met his gaze. "Many things haven't."
The operation began weeks later, beneath layers of secrecy enforced by Alex, Strange, and the United Earth Government. Only a handful of individuals knew the truth. Stark helped design containment fields capable of handling compressed Celestial mass. Wakandan stabilizers reinforced the chamber. Green Lantern constructs stood by in case of failure.
Alex descended alone.
He phased through Earth's mantle, his form protected by layered fields of reality anchoring. The heat did not touch him. Pressure did not register. At the core of the operation lay Tiamut's embryonic heart, vast beyond comprehension even in its dormant state.
For a moment, Alex paused.
He felt the Celestial's awareness brush against his own, slow and alien, curious rather than hostile.
"This is not your end," Alex transmitted directly, his will carrying meaning without language. "You will live. Just not here."
He activated the particles.
Reality bent.
Tiamut's mass began to collapse inward, not violently, but smoothly, space folding around the Celestial's form as its size reduced exponentially. The planet groaned in response, seismic waves rippling outward, but Alex countered them instantly, reinforcing Earth's structure with temporary stabilization fields.
Miles beneath the surface, a god was being removed.
Within minutes, Tiamut had been reduced to a scale small enough to contain within a reinforced dimensional cradle. Alex extracted the construct from Earth, sealing the void it left behind and restoring planetary integrity down to the molecular level.
Earth survived.
The Celestial remained dormant, compressed but alive, held in stasis within a pocket dimension designed to accommodate its eventual release elsewhere.
When Alex returned to the station, Strange was waiting.
"It's done," Alex said simply.
Strange closed his eyes briefly, feeling the timeline shift, the catastrophic future collapsing into nothing. "You've changed more than just one outcome."
"I know," Alex replied. "And I accept the consequences."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching Earth turn below them.
"You said five years," Alex said at last.
"Yes," Strange replied.
"Then I have five years to ensure this universe can survive what comes after."
Strange studied him, the weight of eternity reflected in his eyes. "You're preparing for more than Celestials."
Alex did not deny it.
"The universe is no longer closed," he said. "The Source Wall is gone. The multiverse is exposed. Celestials, abstract entities, conceptual predators… they will come."
"And you plan to meet them?"
"I plan to make sure Earth is not helpless when they do."
Strange inclined his head. "Then I will stand with you. As long as I can."
Alex looked once more at the stars, at the fractures between realities, at the paths his clones now walked far beyond sight.
Five years.
More than enough time.
And for the first time since learning of Tiamut's existence, Earth's future did not end in fire.