The lab at Avengers Facility buzzed with new energy as Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Rocket hunched over consoles and equipment. The Quantum Tunnel's core glowed faintly in the corner, a jigsaw puzzle of impossible science waiting to be solved. Cables snaked across the floor, sparks flew from half-finished circuits, and the air carried the sharp scent of soldering metal. Tony muttered equations under his breath while adjusting a stabilizer node with surgical precision, his fingers moving with a steady rhythm born of experience and obsession.
"I swear this used to be easier," he grumbled, tightening a bolt, sweat glistening at his temple.
Rocket didn't look up. "Or maybe you're just five years rustier. You know, for a genius, you age like a banana."
Bruce interjected diplomatically. "Focus. We're making progress. We just need to make sure Scott doesn't come back as a toddler this time."
Scott Lang, standing a few feet away in a makeshift harness, flinched. "One time! I turn into a baby one time, and no one forgets. Seriously, can we move on?"
Natasha cracked the faintest smile, watching the group with arms crossed. Beneath the momentary levity, tension simmered. The stakes were too high for failure.
"Power levels stable," Bruce announced. He tapped on a touchscreen. "Ready to test again."
Scott stepped onto the platform with a little more hesitation this time. His voice trembled slightly. "Okay, just... try to bring me back as me. No diapers. No puberty, no reverse aging—just plain old me."
Tony flipped a switch. The machine sparked, vibrated, then hummed to life. The humming deepened into a low, resonant whirr, and Scott vanished in a flash of blue light.
Seconds passed. Tension gripped the room. The light on the tunnel flickered, then steadied. Bruce clenched his fists. Rocket leaned forward.
Then he reappeared—same age, same size, same smart-mouth expression. Scott raised both arms like a magician finishing a trick.
"Hey! I'm me! I'm really me! That wasn't so bad. Did I look cool disappearing? Be honest."
Everyone exhaled. Bruce smiled in relief. Rocket muttered, "Finally. Took you long enough, Tiny."
Natasha allowed herself a short sigh. For the first time in years, the impossible no longer felt out of reach.
Later that night, the Avengers gathered in the main briefing room. The atmosphere was heavier than usual. Desperation had been replaced with determination. Tony stood at the front, a hologram projection behind him displaying an elaborate map of time streams, points of interest, and color-coded Infinity Stone locations. Dim lights cast shadows across their tired faces, each of them burdened with grief—and now a glimmer of purpose.
"Here's the deal," Tony began, tapping a console. The display zoomed in. "We don't have time to get this perfect. We split into teams. We each go back to a time and place where we know an Infinity Stone existed. We grab it. We bring it back here. Then we use them to snap everyone back."
Steve nodded solemnly. "And return the Stones to their proper timelines. We fix what we broke."
"Right," Tony added. "We're not monsters. We screw with time, we pay it back."
Carol Danvers folded her arms, her tone serious. "What about the rest of the team? Thor, Clint, Rhodes?"
Natasha answered, her voice quiet but firm. "We'll find them. Clint. Thor. Everyone we can. We bring them in. We do this together."
Bruce stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll go to New Asgard. If Thor's still alive, he's going to need to be reminded what's left to fight for."
Steve looked toward Natasha. "You sure you want to do this alone?"
"Clint and I go way back," she said quietly. "He'll listen to me. I hope."
As the team split up to prepare, Steve caught Tony by the arm just before he left.
"You and I," Steve began, a weight behind his words. "We good?"
Tony hesitated. His eyes lingered on Steve's for a moment before he nodded. "We have to be. We don't have the luxury of not being good anymore."
Steve nodded. There were no more words left to say.
Thousands of miles away, beneath Wakanda's deepest chamber, the environment buzzed with an unseen charge.
Alexander's vitals surged like thunderclouds brewing in a bottle. Tubes pulsed. Core veins shimmered. His armor, cracked and dormant for weeks, pulsed again with flickers of violet energy.
[SYNAPTIC PATHWAY RECOVERY: 62%]
[CORE RESONANCE: REFOCUSED]
[SHADOW ENERGY: ACCELERATING]
Nortis knelt beside the sarcophagus, a dark gleam reflecting in his crystalline eyes. "He's close," the shadow murmured in a voice that echoed through the stone walls.
Noctis drifted nearby like black smoke wrapped in ancient whispers. "He'll awaken when time demands it."
Vasili stood rigid at the perimeter, spear gripped tightly in hand. "And time is collapsing."
A ripple in the shadow dimension crackled like shattered glass. Alexander's system pulsed again.
[EXTERNAL TEMPORAL ANOMALY DETECTED]
[WAKANDA-SANCTUARY SYSTEMS LINKING...]
His fingers twitched once more. Lightning flickered across his armor. The pulse deepened into his spine.
In the shadows, whispers echoed from distant places, the calls of lost souls and fractured timelines brushing against Alexander's dormant consciousness.
The world was changing. And Alexander was stirring with it.
Tokyo, midnight.
The rain came down in sheets, washing blood and neon together in the winding alleys. Natasha walked silently through the chaos, her boots clicking softly against the wet concrete. She moved past sprawled bodies—Yakuza gang members, fallen in silence. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the tension of lingering violence.
Up ahead, a sword clashed against another, the steel ringing like thunder. Clint Barton—hood up, face shadowed—disarmed his opponent in a flash and plunged the blade forward. The Yakuza leader collapsed, lifeless.
He turned, his eyes wild, soaked in grief.
"You shouldn't have come," he said coldly.
"Neither should you have fallen this far," Natasha replied, stepping out of the shadows.
Clint's gaze didn't soften. "They deserved it. Every last one of them."
"Maybe they did," Natasha whispered. "But you didn't deserve to become this."
He wiped the blade, the weight of every lost soul pressing on his shoulders. "You don't know what I've done."
She stepped closer, voice cracking just slightly. "I know what we've lost. But we found something. A chance."
He looked at her sharply, his eyes glassy. "Don't. Don't give me hope."
She reached out, her hand trembling. "I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you before. But now I can."
Their eyes locked, the storm raging around them. Two broken soldiers, both clinging to the same fragile thread.
"We're getting everyone back, Clint. All of them."
In the far reaches of space, past the pull of gravity, where time warped and silence reigned, a planet crumbled into stardust around a collapsed core.
A single figure stood at its edge—a silhouette cloaked in gold and darkness. He faced the remnants of destruction, unmoving. His presence warped the light around him. He held no weapon, yet the weight of his power was undeniable.
Reality behind him fractured and bent, like a mirror twisting in heat.
Within Alexander's still mind, the system flared.
[TEMPORAL INSTABILITY: CONFIRMED]
[EMERGENCY PROTOCOL: REAWAKENING INITIATED]
Golden light burst outward beneath Wakanda, shaking the underground chamber.
Nortis stepped back as the sarcophagus cracked.
Noctis whispered, "It's time."
A blinding light consumed the shadows.
Alexander's eyes opened—piercing gold with rings of shifting shadow.
To be continued.