Chapter 141
Arc 9 - Ch 8: Annihilus
Location: Lamentis-1, Edge of Kree Space, 2075
"I am Annihilus, Lord of the Negative Zone and Harbinger of the Annihilation Wave!"
"I am Tyson, the Mirage of Earth and Valravn of Asgard, the Master of Magnetism, and possessor of more titles than you." He flashed a cheeky grin.
"You stand before me, insignificant creatures, believing yourselves victorious." Annihilus floated closer. "You fought mere drones, the lowest form of my endless army. How amusing. How pathetically, tragically amusing. This planet will die, as all things must. But its death serves a purpose. My purpose. The energy released in its destruction will fuel the expansion of my realm. The barrier between your positive universe and my negative domain grows thin."
He spread his arms wide, and the sky above seemed to ripple in response. "For countless millennia, I have existed in the space between spaces, in the void where matter and antimatter wage eternal war. I have conquered that realm completely, bent it to my will, and now I will bring this domain under my control."
Laughter erupted from him. "The Annihilation Wave you fought was merely a test, a small scouting party sent ahead of my true forces. Even now, they gather beyond the horizon, trillions strong, waiting for my command to consume everything in their path." His voice rose again, booming across the wasteland. "This planet will be consumed. Its energy will feed my armies. And then we will move on to the next world, and the next, until all positive matter has been converted to serve the glory of the Negative Zone!"
"But first, I will study you. Your deaths will be slow, methodical, scientific. I will learn what makes you unique before I erase your existence." The alien's eyes flashed brighter. "Prepare yourselves for annihilation. Not the quick death of oblivion, but the true Annihilation, the complete conversion of your positive matter into negative energy, the ultimate transformation that awaits all life in all universes."
Tyson pointed at him, a smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, this bug wants to banter. I beat Scorpion, and I killed the strongest Spider-Man. And you think I'm gonna lose to something like you?" He chuckled, the sound deliberately casual. "I don't even know what you are. Kind of look like a locust or praying mantis." His head tilted, studying the alien. "Praying mantis are endangered species on my planet. I'm about to make your ass extinct."
The words came out smooth, but his mind was racing underneath. Every second he kept Annihilus talking was another second to analyze the armor, to search for weaknesses, to buy time, to elicit the Nexus Event. Kaine's memories of being Peter told him what to do when outmatched; make them angry. Angry enemies make mistakes. But beneath the bravado, his spider-sense screamed warnings. He needed every advantage he could manufacture, even if that advantage was just pissing off a cosmic conqueror enough to make him sloppy.
He channeled his inner Spider-Man. "You know what happens to bugs on Earth? They get squashed." He slammed his fist into his palm. "Or they get caught in webs."
Annihilus remained motionless.
"What, no comeback?" Tyson circled slightly left. "All those titles and you can't think of a single good one-liner? Lord of the Negative Zone sounds impressive until you realize it's basically saying you're the king of nothing."
Stakes too high, fear threatening to paralyze him, so he defaulted to jokes. If he could turn Annihilus into just another opponent to be mocked, maybe the trembling in his hands would stop. If he could just keep talking, keep performing, keep pretending he wasn't terrified of what would happen if he failed.
Sylvie grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" she hissed. "This isn't some street thug. This is Annihilus!"
He shook her off without breaking eye contact with the alien. "You're supposed to hype me up, not him," he whispered back. Then louder, "This is a pest, we were having a nice picnic before it interrupted. Typical."
"Your primitive attempts at psychological warfare are beneath notice. I have consumed entire civilizations more advanced than yours."
"Ooh, I get it!" Tyson snapped his fingers three times. "You're a locust, and you have a swarm. Consume everything and move on. Biblical plague level shit."
"You mock what you cannot comprehend."
"Actually, I mock what I'm about to beat. It's kind of my thing."
Annihilus descended slightly. "Your confidence is based on ignorance. You defeated mindless drones. I control forces beyond your comprehension."
"So you're from the Negative Zone? I've never heard of it. Must not be that important." He shrugged dramatically.
"The Negative Zone is the counterbalance to your positive matter universe. It is the source of all antimatter, the shadow realm that exists in parallel to your own."
"Sounds like a knockoff. Like when you want the real thing but have to settle for the store brand." He examined his nails. "I bet that's why you're here. Your dimension isn't good enough, so you want ours."
Every joke, every casual gesture, was bought with conscious effort to keep his concern from showing.
"I do not want your realm. I will consume it. There is a difference."
"Yeah, yeah, consume, destroy, annihilate. I get it. Very scary." Tyson rolled his eyes.
"Your death will be neither quick nor painless."
"Promises, promises. But can you deliver? Because from where I'm standing, you're all flash and no substance."
He turned to the refugees, still watching in stunned silence. "You might want to hold on. This could get messy." He tilted his head, gesturing for Sylvie to return to the shelter.
She nodded almost imperceptibly and stepped back. Inside, a mother clutched her daughter so tightly the child's ribs were probably bruising. An old man gripped a younger woman's arm, his granddaughter, maybe. A teenage boy stood in front of what looked like his younger siblings, spine rigid with false courage that made Tyson's chest ache. They'd already watched their world die slowly over years. Now they were watching death that moved with intention, with malice, with purpose.
Tyson returned his attention to Annihilus. "So let me get this straight. You've got this whole 'lord of destruction' thing going on, with your fancy armor and your army of bugs. And you picked this planet to invade? This already-dying rock in the middle of nowhere?" He shook his head in mock disappointment. "That's like a lion hunting a dead gazelle and bragging about the kill." As he spoke, he began moving the shelter into the distance, putting space between the survivors and his upcoming fight.
Sylvie watched from inside as the structure began to move, dragged by invisible forces across the broken landscape. Through the narrow viewport, she could see Tyson still facing down Annihilus, his posture relaxed despite the threat. For centuries, she'd watched apocalypses alone. She'd hidden in shadows, made herself small and invisible while worlds burned. That's what you did when you were the only one who mattered. But right now, someone else was standing between the apocalypse. Someone else had positioned himself as the shield. She wasn't carrying the weight alone. The realization felt dangerous, felt like the kind of hope that got people killed. She crushed it down reflexively, but it kept seeping back, persistent, unwelcome, and terrifyingly warm.
Annihilus descended further, hovering just ten feet above the ground. His patience was wearing thin. "Your mockery changes nothing. This world will die. You will die. All will be consumed."
"You keep saying that, but I don't see much consuming happening. Lots of talking, though." He made a chattering motion with his hand. "Blah blah blah, I'm Annihilus, fear me, blah blah blah."
Tyson projected an illusion of himself walking toward the alien, but those insectoid eyes stayed firmly fixed on him.
So he'd be doing this one without illusions. Likewise, the armor Annihilus wore wasn't metal, so he'd have no control over it.
"Here's a free piece of advice, bug man. If you're going to threaten someone, make sure you can back it up. Otherwise, you're just making noise."
Annihilus raised both hands, energy crackling between them. "You wish for a demonstration? So be it."
A beam of pure antimatter energy shot from his hands toward Tyson, who didn't move. The energy struck an invisible barrier inches from his chest and dissipated harmlessly.
Tyson grinned. "My turn. You might have cosmic power, but I've got something too." His voice carried across the barren landscape. "Back on my planet, I learned to tap into its electromagnetic field. But I never played with it, because I didn't know what I was doing, and didn't want to break my planet."
A slow smile spread across his face as he looked up at the dying world above them. "But since you're going to destroy this one anyway, might as well see what I can do."
He raised his hands toward the sky, fingers splayed wide. At first, nothing happened. Then, a faint shimmer appeared in the atmosphere above them. Colors began to dance. Greens, blues, and purples weaved together in undulating waves. The aurora expanded rapidly, painting the apocalyptic landscape in ethereal light.
The refugees gasped collectively, their faces illuminated by the spectacle. Even Sylvie was transfixed.
"What is this primitive light show?" Annihilus demanded.
Tyson didn't answer. His focus remained absolute as he manipulated the fields surrounding the planet. The aurora intensified, growing brighter and more chaotic. The colors shifted to angry reds and violent purples.
Dark clouds materialized from seemingly nowhere, gathering in a swirling vortex directly above them. The air grew heavy with electricity. Static made the hair on his arms stand on end as the atmospheric pressure dropped precipitously.
Lightning began to form within the clouds. Not typical jagged bolts, but perfect, straight lines of pure electrical energy that connected cloud to cloud in a complex geometric pattern. The network expanded, creating a web of power that mirrored the planet's magnetic field lines he was manipulating.
"Storm, eat your heart out," Tyson muttered, thinking of the weather-controlling mutant back on Earth.
The first bolt struck.
A massive pillar of lightning crashed down on Tyson's magnetic shield. The ground blackened instantly, and the air filled with the sharp scent of ozone.
Another bolt followed, then another, each striking him directly.
The refugees screamed, certain they were witnessing his death.
Sylvie's breath caught. For one terrible, elongated moment, she thought he was dead. Thought she'd let herself believe in someone again, and the universe had immediately punished her for that weakness. Her hand moved toward the shelter door before she consciously decided to move, her body betraying how much she cared before her mind could stop it.
Then the lightning cleared.
He stood there, unharmed, energy crackling around his shield like he'd captured a piece of the storm itself. The relief that flooded through her was physical, made her realize with sudden horrible clarity that this wasn't just gratitude or alliance or shared survival instinct. She was invested in this man in ways she'd sworn she'd never allow herself to be invested in anyone. The realization terrified her almost as much as Annihilus did.
But the lightning strikes didn't stop, each hit his invisible magnetic shield, the energy dispersing across its surface in spectacular arcs. The shield glowed brighter with each impact, absorbing rather than deflecting the power.
Annihilus observed the display with clinical detachment. "You control the primitive electrical forces of this dying world. Impressive for a limited being, but ultimately meaningless."
Tyson's body began to glow with the stored energy. His eyes shone with an internal light, and electricity crackled between his fingertips. The lightning strikes increased in frequency, dozens of bolts hammering his shield simultaneously in a continuous barrage.
The magnetic barrier around him pulsed with power, struggling to contain the massive influx of energy.
"Let's see how meaningless this is," he growled through clenched teeth.
With a primal shout, he thrust both hands forward. The stored energy erupted from his shield in a concentrated beam of pure electrical force. The attack moved at lightning speed, crossing the distance in an instant.
The blast struck Annihilus directly in the chest.
The impact generated a blinding flash and a thunderclap that shook the ground. The refugees covered their ears and closed their eyes, unable to look directly at the point of impact.
The beam continued unabated, a constant stream of power flowing from Tyson to his target. Annihilus remained motionless, making no attempt to dodge. The energy engulfed him completely, creating a sphere of crackling electricity with the alien at its center.
Tyson poured everything he had into the assault. The aurora above intensified, feeding more power into his attack. The ground beneath his feet began to crack from the sheer force being channeled through him.
The electrical sphere grew brighter, expanding outward. The air itself seemed to warp around the point of impact, distorted by the extreme energy concentration.
Finally, he dropped his arms. The beam dissipated, and the aurora faded back to the normal apocalyptic sky of Lamentis-1.
Smoke rose from the point of impact, obscuring their view. It cleared slowly, revealing a perfectly circular area of vitrified ground, the impact site turned to glass by the intense heat.
And in the center of this glassy circle stood Annihilus, completely unharmed.
Not a scratch marred his alien armor. No indication he had just absorbed an attack that should have atomized him.
"Is that all?"
Tyson stared in disbelief. His most powerful attack, an assault that had channeled the electromagnetic energy of an entire moon, had accomplished nothing.
His jaw clenched. The alien hadn't even flinched. Time to stop holding back.
"Guess I can't sandbag this one," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
He held out his hand, palm open and expectant. Inside the distant shelter, Nexus vanished from Sylvie's grip. The refugees gasped as the weapon disappeared before their eyes.
In the same instant, the sword materialized in his outstretched hand. The weapon hadn't teleported. It had returned to his soul before being resummoned in the same moment.
"Let's see what you're really made of."
He crouched slightly, muscles tensing. The air around him began to distort, warping with electromagnetic energy as he manipulated the fields surrounding his body.
Annihilus watched, unconcerned. "Your primitive weapon cannot harm me. My matter-antimatter armor will protect me from all—"
Tyson launched himself forward.
The electromagnetic railgun technique.
By creating opposing magnetic fields in front of and behind himself, he could accelerate his body to incredible speeds. The technique required precise control and perfect timing.
And he was getting faster at activating it.
He broke the sound barrier instantly. The shockwave cracked the vitrified ground beneath him as he rocketed toward Annihilus at Mach 7. The air around him superheated from friction, creating a corona of plasma that trailed behind him like a comet's tail.
Sylvie shielded her eyes from the blinding flash, the refugees crying out as the sonic boom washed over them seconds later.
Tyson became a human missile, Nexus extended before him like a lance. The sword's monomolecular edge led the charge, aimed directly at Annihilus's chest.
But Annihilus wasn't caught unaware.
Despite moving faster than a high-velocity bullet, Tyson saw the alien shift slightly, angling his body to meet the attack head-on.
The collision generated another blinding flash and a thunderous boom that echoed across the wasteland. The ground beneath them cratered from the sheer force, sending debris flying in all directions.
For a moment, everything was obscured by dust and smoke.
When visibility returned, Tyson stood face-to-face with Annihilus, Nexus pressed against the alien's chest. Despite the sword's monomolecular edge, capable of cutting through virtually any material he could imagine…
The blade failed to pierce the armor.
The two remained locked in this position, Tyson pushing forward with all his strength, Annihilus completely unmoved. The sword's edge didn't even scratch the alien armor.
"Impossible," Tyson breathed, genuine shock on his face.
The insectoid features remained unreadable, but the voice carried a note of what might have been amusement. "Your weapon's edge is impressive by the standards of your dimension."
Tyson applied more pressure, his muscles straining as he poured his strength into the thrust.
With a casual gesture, Annihilus knocked Nexus aside. The movement was so fast that Tyson barely registered it happening. One moment he was pressing the sword against the alien's chest, the next he was staggering backward, his arms tingling from the force of the parry.
"Your weapons cannot harm me. Your energy cannot harm me. What else will you try before accepting the inevitable?" The tone was clinical and detached, like a scientist observing a particularly stubborn specimen.
"I'm just getting started," Tyson declared, though uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
He lunged again, this time at normal speed, feinting low before changing direction mid-strike. Nexus became a blur of motion as he unleashed a flurry of attacks. Slashes, thrusts, and sweeping arcs that would have dismembered any normal opponent. As he passed behind Annihilus, a small object fell from his pocket, but he never ceased his attacks.
Annihilus made no attempt to dodge the sword. He simply stood there, allowing each strike to land harmlessly against his armor. Sparks flew where the blade made contact, but no damage was inflicted.
"Are you finished?"
The response was to change tactics. Tyson channeled electromagnetic energy through Nexus, causing the blade to crackle with power. The sword's edge took on a plasma-like quality, superheated.
He struck again, putting everything he had into a single, perfect thrust aimed at the center of Annihilus's chest. The enhanced blade met the alien armor with a shower of sparks and a high-pitched whine that made the refugees cover their ears.
For a brief moment, it seemed like the attack might succeed. The point of Nexus pressed against the armor, and a small indentation appeared where the blade made contact. Tyson's eyes widened with hope.
Then Annihilus moved.
The alien's hand shot out, faster than Tyson could track, and caught the blade between thumb and forefinger. He pinched the edge of Nexus, stopping its momentum completely.
"An admirable effort. Your weapon's edge is indeed remarkable. Few materials in your dimension could withstand it."
Tyson tried to pull Nexus free, but it was like trying to move a mountain. The sword remained trapped, immobile despite his enhanced strength.
"But my armor is not of your dimension. It exists simultaneously in positive and negative space, making it impervious to attacks from either realm alone."
"Thanks for the tip," Tyson said. He released his grip on Nexus, the sword dissolving into motes of light as he unsummoned it and recreated the blade within his hand.
He immediately began charging the edge with electromagnetic power again, the blade crackling with renewed vigor. This time, however, Annihilus didn't wait for him to attack.
The alien went on the offensive. Tyson's body reacted before his conscious mind registered the danger. A familiar tingling crawled up his spine as his spider-sense warned him of imminent threats. He twisted his body in ways that defied normal human flexibility, contorting between the attacks with millimeters to spare.
"You cannot dodge forever."
Annihilus adjusted his strategy, staggering his attacks to create an inescapable pattern. Tyson leaped, rolled, and spun, his enhanced reflexes pushed to their limits.
Tyson saw his opportunity. The alien's left side was momentarily exposed as he channeled energy through his right arm. His hand flew out, wrist bent in a familiar gesture. A stream of organic webbing shot from his wrist. The sticky substance wrapped around Annihilus's left arm, binding it tightly to his torso.
"What is this?" The alien looked down at the webbing.
"You aren't the only bug here," Tyson quipped. The irony wasn't lost on him, using spider abilities against an insectoid being.
Annihilus reached for the webbing with his free hand, preparing to tear it off. But Tyson didn't give him the chance. He went back on the offensive, charging forward with Nexus leading the way.
The electromagnetic energy surrounding the blade intensified as Tyson pressed his attack. He forced Annihilus to keep his right hand occupied with defense, parrying, and blocking the relentless assault.
Each strike came closer to breaking through. Where before Nexus couldn't even scratch the alien armor, now the blade was beginning to leave faint marks. Microscopic abrasions appeared on the surface of the matter-antimatter plating, evidence that his strategy was working.
"Impossible. No weapon of your dimension should be able to affect my armor."
"Maybe it's not just from my dimension," Tyson shot back, pressing his advantage.
He maintained a punishing rhythm, each attack flowing seamlessly into the next. He wasn't fighting with brute force anymore. He was fighting with intelligence, targeting the same spots repeatedly to maximize damage.
When he swung high, aiming for Annihilus's head, the alien raised his arm to block the strike. It was exactly what Tyson had been waiting for.
His left hand shot out, another stream of webbing erupting from his wrist. The sticky substance wrapped around Annihilus's forearm and continued upward, covering the alien's face before he could react. Blinded and with one arm still bound to his side, Annihilus let out a sound that might have been frustration. He exerted his strength, tearing at the webbing covering his face.
Tyson didn't waste the opportunity. He fired more webbing, layer after layer, binding Annihilus's legs together and further restricting his movements. The alien struggled against his bonds, but each time he tore through one section, Tyson added more.
While maintaining the barrage of webbing, Tyson edged sideways toward the spot where the small object had fallen from his pocket earlier. His eyes never left Annihilus, even as his magnetic power closed around the device.
The TVA collar.
He'd kept it after removing it in Roxxcart. The TVA used them to capture variants without damaging the timeline further, because a frozen being couldn't create new branches, couldn't make choices that spawned alternate realities, couldn't fight back. And if it could freeze him, maybe it could freeze something stronger than him.
With Annihilus momentarily occupied by the webbing, Tyson made his move. He pulled the collar forward, aiming for the narrow gap between the alien's helmet and chest plate.
The webbing around his torso began to tear. The restraints covering his face shredded under his clawed hands, revealing insectoid features contorted with rage.
The collar closed around Annihilus's neck with a mechanical click, locking into place just as he ripped free from the last of the webbing.
Tyson pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button. The collar activated with a soft hum, and Annihilus froze mid-motion. The alien stood perfectly still, like a statue. His body remained in the attack position, but all movement had ceased.
Tyson stood there for a moment, chest heaving, staring at the frozen conqueror. He'd done it. Against impossible odds, he'd actually done it. The Annihilation Wave was stopped. Lamentis-1 would still die, but the billions of lives across countless worlds that would have fallen to this creature's army, they'd see tomorrow. A surge of something fierce and triumphant filled him, a vindication that all the power he'd accumulated, all the risks he'd taken, actually meant something. He was a Nexus Being. He could change fate. He could save people who were supposed to die. The realization filled him with a dangerous sense of invincibility, as if he'd proven that destiny itself could be rewritten through sheer force of will. It was the exact moment when he should have been most cautious, most aware of cosmic balances, but instead he felt only the intoxicating rush of victory against impossible odds.
Sure he'd cheated, used the TVA collar. But how did the saying go?
If you ain't cheating, you ain't trying.
Tyson pointed at Annihilus triumphantly. "I was kidding earlier. You're the only bug here! Spiders aren't bugs!"
He'd just defeated a cosmic-level threat using tactics and improvisation, had saved countless lives across the universe by stopping the Annihilation Wave before it could truly begin. But as he stood there staring at Annihilus's frozen form, a wrongness crept up his spine that had nothing to do with his spider-sense. The victory felt too easy, too clean, too much like the universe had allowed him to win rather than him earning it through skill. The air around him felt heavier suddenly, saturated with something he couldn't name but recognized instinctively as attention.
Something was watching. Something had been watching the entire time. And it wasn't Sylvie.
He released the door to the shelter in the distance, the metal groaning as it swung open. Survivors of Lamentis-1 poured out, their faces holding cautious hope, but they couldn't see the battlefield from their distance. Sylvie emerged first, her eyes wide at the sight of Annihilus frozen mid-roar. Without hesitation, she broke into a sprint across the broken landscape toward Tyson.
"He actually did it," she muttered in disbelief.
Tyson stood before Annihilus, studying the alien. The collar around the creature's neck held the conqueror in a perfect moment of suspended animation.
Then he felt it. The sensation was unavoidable. What had felt distant suddenly felt very real.
Two dark eyes on him, watching him, always watching. And he knew she was here. He turned and saw her.
Lady Death.
She stood before him, her form both substantial and ethereal at once. She wore robes that seemed woven from the fabric of night itself, adorned with what might have been stars or souls. Impossible to tell which. Her presence brought no chill, no scent of decay, only an overwhelming sense of inevitability and ancient patience.
"A step along the path," she said, her voice neither loud nor soft, yet perfectly audible. It resonated not through the air but directly within his mind.
He noted that she didn't take the human-like appearance she'd had around Agatha, instead her face was simply a skull. Tyson bowed slightly. "Lady Death, we meet again."
She moved closer without seeming to take a step, her form simply occupying a new space. "You speak respectfully, yet your actions say otherwise." Her eyes, bottomless pools of darkness, studied him with detached interest.
Tyson spread his arms to the distance, indicating the wide circle of dead insects from the Annihilation Wave. The area beyond was littered with their broken carapaces, ichor pooling beneath shattered exoskeletons. "Have I not delivered much death this day?"
Turning, he thrust Nexus directly through the open mouth of Annihilus, still wide with his frozen shout.
The weapon had difficulty piercing the matter-anti-matter armor, but had no difficulty penetrating the soft flesh of his palate. The sword slid through with a wet sound, until it hit the armor protecting the outside of the being's head. Tyson twisted and turned the blade a few times for good measure.
He pressed the button on the TVA controller, deactivating the collar. While it seemed time had frozen around them, it seemingly didn't extend to the small bubble between him and Death. Annihilus released a spray of fluids out of its unfrozen maw as it dropped, twitching. The once-mighty conqueror collapsed to the ground, his limbs jerking in death throes.
"Another death, for you, Lady Death." Tyson swiped Nexus with a flourish, flicking the blade clean.
"You insult me."
Her voice remained calm, but the air around them seemed to darken. Stars visible in the sky began to wink out one by one, swallowed by something deeper than night. The ground beneath Death's feet withered. Not gradually, but instantly. Where she stood, existence itself seemed to dim. The temperature didn't drop. It simply ceased to exist in her immediate presence, replaced by an absence so complete it made Tyson's bones ache with wrongness.
"The Annihilation Wave would have killed countless billions," she explained, moving around Annihilus's corpse. "And you stop it, then claim it is a gift to me."
That explained why she'd come. He'd just stolen from her, had reached into the cosmic machinery of fate and rerouted the path that was supposed to lead to galaxy-wide annihilation. The Annihilation Wave would have consumed world after world, each extinction feeding into the next, a cascade of death that would have echoed across this entire sector of space. He'd stopped all of it with a single collar and a well-placed blade. In that moment when he'd felt invincible, when he'd believed he could rewrite destiny itself, he should have remembered that the universe keeps its accounts balanced. Should have remembered that Death takes every alteration of her design personally. She'd warned him before about the price of defying the natural order, and here he was, having just denied her the largest harvest she could have collected.
"The TVA will be by in moments to clean up my mess," Tyson said, gesturing to the fallen Annihilus. "And it'll be business as usual."
Death's face turned icy. The stars overhead continued to extinguish themselves, darkness spreading like spilled ink across the cosmos. Reality itself seemed to recoil from her displeasure. Tyson's heartbeat slowed involuntarily, his lungs struggling to remember how to draw breath. The sensation wasn't physical. It was fundamental. As if his body suddenly questioned whether it wanted to continue the tiresome work of living.
"You understand nothing." The edge in her voice made him shudder. "I am not served by those who prevent death or those who cause it. I am not a force to be appeased or avoided. I am the final transition, the ultimate horizon that all existence approaches."
She moved closer, and her form became more solid. She reached up and removed her face, like it was a mask. Beneath was the human face, the one Tyson had seen when they'd accidentally summoned her. A primal fear rose within him, not of pain or suffering, but of the absolute certainty she represented. Every cell in his body recognized her. Every instinct screamed that this was the end of all things, patient and inevitable.
"You play with forces beyond your comprehension. The Time Variance Authority, the Sacred Timeline. These are but constructs within a larger design. And I am woven into the fabric of that design in ways you cannot fathom."
She reached out, not quite touching Tyson but close enough that he could feel the absolute absence that surrounded her form. It was simply nothing. A void more complete than any he had ever experienced. When he tried to sense the electromagnetic field near her hand, he found a hole in reality where no fields existed, no particles moved, no time passed. His magnetic sense recoiled from the space around her fingers, finding not emptiness but anti-presence, as if the universe itself had been cut away. The wrongness of it made his stomach turn. This wasn't death as he'd understood it. This was something older. Something that existed before existence had rules.
"Remember this moment, Tyson." She used his name with deliberate emphasis, not his title or false last name, but wielding it like it was his true name. The word resonated in his chest, making his heart stutter. "Remember that your actions have consequences beyond what your still-limited perception can grasp. You remain bound by the ultimate truth that I represent."
Tyson stood his ground, though every instinct screamed at him to flee. His legs trembled with the effort of staying rooted. "And what truth is that?"
"That all things end." Her human face remained perfectly serene, which somehow made it worse. "Even gods. Even timelines. Even those who believe themselves beyond my reach."
She circled him. "The scales must balance, Tyson. For every life saved, payment comes due. The universe demands equilibrium."
"What payment?" The question came out rougher than he intended.
She gestured toward the approaching figures in the distance, where the refugees were frozen as they made their way cautiously across the broken ground toward him.
No.
She pointed directly at Sylvie.
"I offer you a choice, here and now. A single death among them, one life given willingly to restore partial balance, and I will ensure the others live long, full existences. They will die peacefully in their time, deaths that come with dignity and completion. Refuse, and I take my payment in a way you cannot predict, from a source you cannot protect, at a time I alone will choose." Her eyes locked onto his, bottomless and patient. "This is mercy, Tyson. This is the opportunity to pay the debt rather than having it collected. What you have taken from me will be returned. The only question is whether you have the courage to choose the how."
Tyson's jaw tightened. "You want me to give up Sylvie to you?"
Death's human face remained serene, patient. "The choice is yours."
"No."
The word came out flat, absolute. No hesitation, no negotiation.
Death tilted her head, studying him with those bottomless eyes. "You refuse without consideration? Without weighing her life against another?"
"I refuse because you're asking me to murder someone." Tyson's hands clenched at his sides. "That's what this is. You're asking me to pick who dies. That's not balance. That's a hostage situation."
"You misunderstand the nature of what I offer."
"You're trying to make me complicit. Trying to make me choose death instead of you just taking it. Well, I won't. You want payment? You take it yourself. Don't ask me to do your work for you."
The darkness around them deepened. The stars had winked out overhead, and the shadows surrounded them. Tyson felt as if he'd been swallowed by the void. It was just him and death in a circle of darkness, standing within the small circle of vitrified ground as if it were an island within the abyss.
"You are certain?" Death's voice carried no anger, no disappointment. Only that same terrible patience. "You would rather I collect my due in my own time, in my own way?" She regarded him for a long moment. "Then so be it."
Death's lips curved into something resembling a smile. It was a gentle expression, almost kind, and that made it infinitely more terrifying. "Power and soul between them hold the answer. What one hand preserves, another must collect. Madness already dreams of me, and I shall guide his hand toward what you have denied me here."
"Uh…. Forgive me, Lady. I don't understand."
"You are not meant to." She tilted her head, studying him like he was something curious but ultimately inconsequential. "Not yet. But remember that I warned you of the price. Two lights will shine where darkness should have reigned, and their brilliance will cast long shadows."
She gestured toward the devastation around them. "You've altered much here. The ripples spread far beyond this moment, this place. There are powers in this universe that seek balance through destruction, and they will find their vessels with or without your interference."
"Valravn."
Death said his title, and it struck him like it had when she'd spoken his true name. The word resonated through his spirit, carrying weight that went beyond sound. It wasn't just a name. It was recognition of what he'd become.
"Yes. A god of life and death, prophecy, battlefields." Her voice held a note of satisfaction, as if pieces of a puzzle were finally clicking into place. "You have served well today. Preserved life on the battlefield, revealed prophecy, delivered death, and had Death delivered to you."
The events of the day suddenly took on a different shape in his mind. Every action, every choice, had been an expression of domains he hadn't even known he was embodying. The refugees he'd saved. The insects and the conqueror he'd slaughtered. This conversation itself. Prophecy?
"I told you before, all aspects of Death serve me." She moved closer, her human face serene and terrible. "Did you think yourself above the others?"
Tyson's face blanched as he realized what she was saying. Baron Samedi. How he'd fled just before Death arrived. Other gods of death were servants. Extensions of something larger, something that was part of existence itself.
"Oh yes," Death continued, reading the understanding in his expression. "While you may still be beyond my touch, every step you take, every choice you make, brings you closer to me. All things die, Valravn. Even gods."
Tyson felt the truth of her words settling into his consciousness like stones dropping into still water. Each ripple spread outward, touching memories and moments he'd thought were his own choices. The snowy roadside where he'd first killed. The knowledge of the future that had guided his path. The lives he'd saved and the deaths he'd caused.
All of it had been leading him.
To what?
"You're saying I'm already yours." His voice came out steady despite the revelation crushing down on him.
"You always have been." Death's smile was gentle, patient.
Tyson gripped Nexus tighter, his knuckles white around the hilt. "If you're threatening me—"
"I do not threaten." The interruption was soft but absolute. "I simply am. I have existed since the first spark of life emerged, and I will remain when the last star burns out." She leaned closer, and Tyson's vision began to gray at the edges. "You've taken something from me today. The universe abhors such imbalances. It will correct itself. With instruments already in motion, I will take something from you. Today."
She disappeared.
The air rushed back in with an audible gasp. Stars reappeared in the sky one by one, blinking back into existence as if someone had flipped a cosmic switch. Time resumed its normal flow and Tyson staggered, his legs nearly giving out. The absence of Lady Death's presence was almost as overwhelming as the presence itself. His lungs burned as he sucked in desperate breaths, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was making up for lost beats.
Tyson let out a shuddering breath and released Nexus back into his soul. The sword dissolved, leaving him feeling oddly lighter.
He survived Death again.
Or had he?
A sound behind him made him turn. Sylvie stood there, her eyes wide with wonder and relief. Genuine, unguarded relief.
"You did it." The words came out in a whisper, her voice catching. "You actually did it."
Before Tyson could respond, Sylvie crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. The embrace was fierce and desperate. Her body pressed against his, trembling slightly, clinging to him like he might disappear if she let go, and he could feel the rapid thrum of her heartbeat through her armor.
"I've lived through more apocalypses than I can count," she said against his chest, her words muffled but clear enough for his enhanced hearing. The warmth of her breath seeped through the fabric of his suit. "I've hidden in the shadows of dying worlds, watching civilizations crumble, stars explode, and planets tear themselves apart."
She pulled back just enough to look up at him. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her fingers dug into his arms, grounding herself in his solidity.
"Always alone. Always running. Always just surviving. This is the first time," Sylvie continued, her voice growing stronger even as it roughened with emotion, "the first time I didn't just survive an apocalypse. I fought back. We fought back." She gripped his arms tightly, and he could feel the slight tremor in her hands. "Do you have any idea what that means? To stand and fight instead of just finding a place to hide until it's over?"
The survivors from the shelter were approaching now, though they were far slower than Sylvie. Their faces were filled with awe as they surveyed the scattered remains of the insectoid army, the signature of an impossible victory written across the landscape.
"And I wasn't alone." The words came out in a whisper meant only for him. "For the first time since the TVA took everything from me, I wasn't alone."
Something shifted in her expression. A decision made, a barrier falling. He saw it happen, watched the last of her walls crumble in real time.
She reached up, her fingers brushing against his jaw.
The touch was feather-light but deliberate, tracing the line of his face like she was memorizing it. Her thumb grazed his lower lip.
Then she pulled him down toward her, closing the distance between them with sudden urgency. She knew what it meant to exist as a mistake, to fight against a universe that insisted you shouldn't exist at all. She understood the weight of that in ways no one else could.
Her lips met his.
Desperate and hopeful at once, the kiss spoke of centuries of loneliness shattered in a single moment. He found himself kissing her back with an intensity that surprised him, his hands finding her waist and pulling her closer. If he was meant for Death, then he needed to feel all of this, needed to memorize how her body fit against his, needed to burn this into his memories.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer with a possessiveness that sent electricity down his spine. Every curve pressed into him. He became acutely aware of everything, the softness of her lips, the silk of her hair between his fingers, the way her breath hitched when he changed the angle of the kiss, the taste of salt from tears.
Time lost all meaning. They were lost in each other, in the desperate relief of having survived against impossible odds. Sylvie had found something she hadn't expected in this desolate place at the end of a dying world. Hope. Connection. Someone who chose to stand with her instead of running away.
He honed in on the subtle changes in her heartbeat as it raced faster. The catch in her breath that turned into a soft sound against his mouth. The way her body melted against his, tension bleeding out of her muscles as she surrendered to the kiss. The slight tremble in her hands as they moved from his hair to his shoulders, gripping him like an anchor in a storm.
The world around them faded. The dying planet, the survivors watching in stunned silence, the corpse of Annihilus cooling nearby. All of it receded until there was nothing but her, but this moment, this connection, this feeling of being alive in the wake of death.
The air around them split open silently.
Orange, flat time doors of the TVA materialized, and Minutemen poured through.
Collars were placed around their necks before they could separate, freezing their kiss perpetually.
Immediately, Tyson felt his connection to the magnetic fields severed, cut off like a limb he'd lost all feeling in.
"Variant L1190-Sylvie Laufeydottir and Nexus-Being Tyson, you are being detained for crimes against the Sacred Timeline," Hunter B-15 announced, completely indifferent to the moment she'd just shattered.
Minutemen dragged them apart as they were unfrozen. Sylvie's face transformed in an instant. The softness that had been there moments ago hardened into something feral and desperate. She tried to reach for Tyson, her fingers straining against the collar's weakening, and he could see the betrayal in her eyes. Not betrayal by him, but betrayal by the universe itself, by whatever force had decided that the single moment of connection she'd allowed herself in centuries deserved to be ripped away before it could even take root.
Tyson met her eyes. "It's going to be okay."
Minutemen seized Sylvie's arms. She twisted and thrashed; her boots scraped against the vitrified ground as she tried to plant herself, tried to resist the inexorable pull backward.
Without his powers, Tyson couldn't reach for the fields that would have torn the collars apart like tissue paper. Couldn't summon the strength that would have scattered the Minutemen like leaves. He was just a man, forced to watch as the woman who'd kissed him like he was her salvation was dragged toward the orange door.
Sylvie's eyes never left his. Even as she bucked and fought, even as more Minutemen joined the effort to restrain her, her gaze stayed locked on him. Her mouth moved, forming words the collar wouldn't let her voice.
He read them anyway on her lips.
Don't let them. Please.
The desperation in her expression cut deep. This wasn't just about being captured. This was about having hope ripped away the moment she'd dared to reach for it.
The Minutemen hauled her backward through the portal, her boots leaving drag marks in the glass.
For a moment, he considered it. Releasing his claws. Cutting the collar. Going savage, letting the portion of him that was Sabertooth free to savage his enemies, letting the portion of him that was Magneto obliterate his oppressors.
But he didn't. This was important. This needed to happen. At least, that's what he told himself.
The orange light swallowed her.
She was gone, never knowing that Tyson had resisted Death herself to ensure Sylvie's survival.
The Minutemen placed reset charges throughout the battlefield. The last thing Tyson saw before the orange light of the TVA portal engulfed him was the body of Annihilus beginning to dissolve, the timeline resetting to its predetermined course.
The victory dissolved with it.
The refugees he'd saved flickered like bad reception, their faces cycling through expressions of hope and terror and gratitude before winking out entirely, erased back to their predetermined deaths. The desperate battle leading to the kiss, the moment when Sylvie had chosen him, all of it unmade as thoroughly as if it had never happened. The Sacred Timeline reasserted itself, smoothing out the wrinkle he'd created, eliminating the choice he'd made, returning existence to its predetermined path.
Somewhere in the TVA's bureaucracy, his file would note this as a correction, a successful pruning, another variant captured to protect the integrity of time. But to him, it felt like something infinitely simpler.
It felt like theft.
Everything he'd fought for. Gone. Reset. As if it had never happened. Sure, he'd achieved his goals.
But to this world, it would be their end…