---
The stars above New York flickered like shy witnesses, hiding behind soft clouds as two souls—broken, powerful, and weary—stood face to face under the night sky.
On the balcony of the obsidian tower, Ron and Natasha were closer than ever. His overwhelming presence, the unstoppable aura, now felt warm… inviting.
Natasha's breath caught as Ron gently reached toward her face, not touching, just close enough for her skin to tingle.
"I don't know what this is," she whispered, unsure if it was fear or hope trembling in her voice.
Ron nodded. "I don't either. But I know it's real."
They stood in silence, surrounded by infinite strength yet sharing a moment so delicate it could shatter with a whisper.
"I've lied to everyone I've ever known," Natasha admitted, her voice raw. "Even to myself. I've worn masks so long, I forgot what my real face looked like."
Ron didn't speak. He simply listened. She had spent her entire life surrounded by people who only wanted to control, command, or fear her. But Ron? He saw her.
"You don't have to pretend here," he said softly. "With me… you're enough."
A sharp breath escaped her lips—half a sob, half a laugh.
"I kill people for a living. I've done things I can't forgive myself for."
Ron took her hand, his fingers warm and steady. "So have I. Not with blades, but with silence. Letting pain consume me, letting people betray me without standing up. I died because I was too weak to fight back."
She looked up at him, eyes wide.
"You're not weak anymore."
"No," he said. "But I still bleed inside. And somehow, you make it stop."
Natasha didn't move away.
Instead, she stepped closer.
And then—like fate itself paused to watch—they kissed.
Not rushed. Not desperate.
It was slow. Deep. Intense.
A kiss not between a god and a spy… but two broken souls finding peace, if only for a moment.
When they pulled away, Natasha's cheeks were flushed. For once, she wasn't the Black Widow. She was just Natasha.
"I'm not ready to belong to anyone," she said.
"You don't have to," Ron replied. "Just stay."
"I think I want to."
---
Elsewhere, in the Sanctum Sanctorum, Doctor Strange opened his eyes abruptly, his breath sharp.
Wong glanced over. "You saw something?"
"Yes," Strange muttered. "Something… is coming. A force growing beyond the boundaries of time and logic."
"The Multiverse?"
"No," Strange said gravely. "Something worse. A man who was mortal—who now surpasses celestial limits. And… he's falling in love."
Wong blinked. "Is that bad?"
"For him? No," Strange replied. "But for reality? Love makes gods do foolish things."
He stared out into the void beyond time.
"And he's no god. He's something new."
---