Chapter 33: TVA
---
[DETECTED: ABILITY - TEMPORAL ERASURE (MULTIVERSAL SCALE)]
[ABILITY ACQUIRED: TEMPORAL ERASURE (MULTIVERSAL)]
[DESCRIPTION: CAN ERASE ENTITIES, OBJECTS, OR ENTIRE SECTIONS OF TIMELINES FROM EXISTENCE]
[NOTE: EFFICIENCY DRAMATICALLY INCREASED DUE TO HYPERVERSAL SCALE MENTAL POWER]
[YOU DON'T NEED DEVICES TO PERFORM TEMPORAL ERASURE]
Lin Chen's eyes widened slightly with genuine interest and appreciation.
"So that's how it works," he said softly, more to himself than to the TVA agents.
The Minutemen threw their Reset Charges at Lin Chen with practiced precision. The devices activated mid-flight, creating expanding bubbles of temporal erasure that would delete anything they touched from the timeline completely—erasing the target's past, present, and future in one fell swoop.
Lin Chen raised his hand with lazy, almost casual ease.
Not exploded. Not deflected. Not disabled. They just ceased to be, their temporal energy dissipating harmlessly into nothing as if the devices had never been created in the first place.
Hunter B-15 stared in complete shock, her professional composure cracking. "What—how did you—those charges should have—"
"Your 'science' is just a primitive version of my will," Lin Chen said calmly, his tone matter-of-fact rather than boastful. "I understand the principles behind your technology now. And frankly, I can do it better without any devices at all."
He focused his Hyperversal-scale consciousness—on the TVA agents surrounding him in their tactical formation.
It wasn't an attack in any conventional sense. It was simply a command issued directly to reality itself, backed by power that transcended normal universal laws.
Their TemPads sparked violently and died, circuits frying from temporal feedback. Their Pruning Sticks powered down completely, their temporal energy reservoirs draining to nothing in seconds. Their communication devices went silent, cut off from the TVA's central network.
Every piece of technology they carried simply stopped working.
"Leave," Lin Chen said with calm authority.
The word wasn't loud. Wasn't shouted. Wasn't even particularly emphatic. But it carried absolute, undeniable command—the voice of someone who expected to be obeyed and had the power to enforce that expectation.
Hunter B-15 tried to resist, tried to maintain her position and give orders to her team. But she found her body moving backward against her will, her legs carrying her toward the Timedoor she'd emerged from moments earlier.
The other Minutemen followed, their bodies moving on autopilot, fleeing back to the TVA headquarters without any conscious choice in the matter. They weren't being hurt or attacked—just... compelled to leave by a force of will they had no capacity to resist.
Within seconds, all twelve orange portals had closed with soft whispers of displaced air.
Lin Chen stood alone in space once more, surrounded only by stars and the infinite void.
But he knew—absolutely knew—that this wasn't over. The TVA didn't give up after one failed attempt. They would report back, analyze what happened, and escalate their response.
Which meant someone higher up in their organization would take notice.
---
At the Citadel at the End of Time
He Who Remains sat at his ornate desk, staring at the monitors before him with an expression of growing horror mixed with reluctant fascination.
His normally steady hands trembled as he flipped through the pages of his sacred script—the carefully maintained record of the Sacred Timeline that he'd spent countless eons protecting from divergence and chaos.
The pages were an absolute mess.
Ink ran like water, as if the words themselves were trying to escape. Entire sentences scrambled into incomprehensible nonsense. Whole sections had been overwritten with chaotic scrawls that made no logical sense according to any timeline he'd ever documented.
And in the center of one page, written in bold letters that seemed to burn with an inner light, were words that made his blood run cold:
"HE IS NOT IN THE LINES. HE IS LEADING THE LINES."
"No no no no no," He Who Remains muttered frantically, his usual theatrical calm completely shattered. "This isn't possible. This shouldn't be possible. The script accounts for everything—every deviation, every variant, every potential divergence. I've spent eternities making sure of it!"
He looked up at one of his many monitors, which showed Lin Chen still floating calmly in space near Earth, seemingly unbothered by having just sent away an entire TVA strike team.
"He just... he just nullified twelve Reset Charges simultaneously. Without effort. Without technology. Just... will." He Who Remains ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "And he learned how to perform temporal erasure just by observing it once."
His fingers drummed frantically on the desk surface, a nervous habit from his younger days that only emerged when truly stressed.
"Options. I need options. Standard protocols clearly won't work. I can't prune him—he'll just absorb and master the technique. I can't reset his timeline—he exists somehow outside my ability to reset. I can't send more Minutemen—they'll just be sent back or worse."
He Who Remains stopped his drumming abruptly.
His eyes hardened with grim determination and more than a little fear.
"Fine. If conventional methods won't work, if standard TVA protocols are useless against him..."
He reached for a control panel he'd hoped never to use again—an emergency measure that hadn't been deployed since the original Multiversal War. The nuclear option. The last resort.
"I really hoped it wouldn't come to this."
He pressed the red button.
---
In Space
Lin Chen sensed it before he saw it—a massive disturbance in the fabric of reality itself.
A rip appeared in space. Not a clean, controlled portal like the TVA's Timedoors, but a jagged, screaming tear that looked like a wound torn into the universe's flesh. Raw chaos poured through the opening.
Purple mist erupted from the rift, spreading rapidly in all directions. Lightning crackled across impossible angles. The temperature dropped precipitously even in the vacuum of space, frost forming on nearby micro-meteorites.
And then the creature emerged.
Alioth.
The trans-temporal predator was enormous beyond comprehension—a living storm of purple energy and screaming, tormented faces, miles wide and still growing larger by the second. It was a creature of pure temporal destruction, a being that existed for the sole purpose of consuming timelines and digesting entire branches of reality.
The TVA's ultimate weapon. The beast that had ended the Multiversal War. The thing that even Kang variants feared.
Lin Chen activated his system analysis immediately, his scientific curiosity overriding any sense of danger.
[SCANNING: ALIOTH - TRANS-TEMPORAL PREDATOR]
[NAME: ALIOTH]
[CLASSIFICATION: TRANS-TEMPORAL PREDATOR]
[POWER SCALE: LOW-COMPLEX MULTIVERSAL]
[ANALYSIS: TARGET IS ESSENTIALLY A SENTIENT DIGESTIVE SYSTEM FOR TIME ITSELF]
[ORIGIN: CREATED DURING THE MULTIVERSAL WAR BETWEEN KANG VARIANTS]
[CURRENT STATUS: HARNESSED AND WEAPONIZED BY HE WHO REMAINS]
[PRIMARY FUNCTION: CONSUME AND DIGEST TEMPORAL BRANCHES AND VARIANTS]
[THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME - CAN ERASE BEINGS COMPLETELY FROM HISTORY]
[ABILITIES DETECTED:]
- CHRONAL DEVOURING: Can consume timelines and everything within them
- TEMPORAL DISTORTION: Warps time around itself
- WEATHER MANIPULATION: Controls massive storm systems
Lin Chen watched the approaching storm with calm interest, even as its purple tendrils reached toward him like hungry mouths seeking prey.
"So this is the 'God' of the Void?"
Lin Chen said, his voice carrying a note of mocking amusement. "The great beast that ended a war between infinite Kangs? I expected something more... impressive."
Alioth roared in response—a sound that existed simultaneously across all frequencies, a scream of hunger and rage and mindless destruction that had ended countless timelines and consumed entire branches of reality.
The creature lunged forward with terrifying speed, its purple mist enveloping Lin Chen completely. The temporal predator began its terrible work, attempting to dissolve Lin Chen's personal history, to erase him from the timeline itself by consuming his past, present, and future all at once.
Lin Chen stood perfectly still within the heart of the storm, letting Alioth's energy wash over him without resistance.
He felt everything—the way the creature broke down matter into raw chronal energy, how it digested time itself on a fundamental level, the specific frequencies it used to erase existence from the timeline's memory.
[MENTAL POWER +3,203]
[NEW MENTAL POWER: 23,987.6]
[ABILITY ACQUIRED: CHRONAL DEVOURING]
[DESCRIPTION: CAN CONSUME AND DIGEST TEMPORAL ENERGY AND TIMELINE CONSTRUCTS]
[INITIATING ABILITY FUSION...]
[FUSING WITH EXISTING ABILITY: ENERGY ABSORPTION (MULTIVERSAL+)...]
[NEW ULTIMATE ABILITY: ULTIMATE DEVOUR]
[DESCRIPTION: CAN CONSUME AND DIGEST ANY FORM OF ENERGY, ANY TYPE OF MATTER, OR ANY TEMPORAL CONSTRUCT WITHOUT LIMITS. CAN DEVOUR CONCEPTS, TIMELINES, AND EVEN ABSTRACT ENTITIES. NO RESTRICTIONS.]
Lin Chen smiled within the heart of the storm, feeling the new power integrate seamlessly into his being.
"Thank you for the generous meal," he said with genuine appreciation in his voice.
Then he opened his mouth.
And he inhaled.
The effect was immediate and absolutely catastrophic—for Alioth.
The trans-temporal predator, the creature that had consumed entire timelines and digested whole branches of reality, suddenly found itself being pulled inward against its will. Its purple mist began flowing backward, streaming into Lin Chen's mouth like water being sucked down an infinitely deep drain.
Alioth tried desperately to resist, thrashing and roaring with the fury of a cornered apex predator that had never before encountered something that could threaten it. It attempted to anchor itself to the fabric of reality, to dig its metaphysical claws into the timeline itself.
But it was utterly, completely useless.
Lin Chen wasn't just absorbing Alioth's energy like he'd done with countless other abilities. He was consuming the creature's very existence, digesting it on every level—physical, temporal, conceptual—breaking it down into raw power that fed directly into his own being and made him stronger with every passing second.
The miles-wide storm began to condense and shrink, pulled inexorably toward Lin Chen by a force it couldn't hope to resist. More and more of its essence vanished into that impossibly small point of consumption.
Alioth's triumphant roar became a confused whimper.
The whimper became a desperate whisper of escaping air.
Then... nothing.
With one
final, tremendous surge of inhalation, Lin Chen swallowed the last traces of the trans-temporal predator. The purple mist disappeared completely, consumed in its entirety without leaving even a single particle of residual energy behind.
Alioth—the beast that had ended the Multiversal War, the creature that had consumed countless timelines, the ultimate weapon of the TVA—was gone. Not destroyed, not banished, but utterly devoured and integrated into Lin Chen's power.
Lin Chen closed his mouth and exhaled slowly, a thin wisp of purple mist dissipating harmlessly into space.
[MENTAL POWER +6,352.4]
[NEW MENTAL POWER: 30,340]
[TEMPORAL ABILITIES EFFICIENCY IMPROVED]
[ULTIMATE DEVOUR NOW OPERATES AT HYPERVERSAL SCALE]
"Tasty," Lin Chen remarked with genuine satisfaction, feeling the immense power settling into his body. "Spicy, with notes of temporal chaos and existential dread. Not bad for something that's supposed to be unkillable."
He could feel Alioth's consciousness—if such a creature could be said to have one—dissolving completely into raw energy within him. Every memory the beast had consumed, every timeline it had digested, every fragment of reality it had erased—all of that information and power now belonged to Lin Chen.
His gaze shifted, eyes glowing with brilliant golden light as he activated his Timeline Perception ability.
His consciousness expanded explosively outward, spreading across the vast web of time and space like ripples on an infinite pond. He looked through dimensions, through temporal barriers, through the very fabric of the multiverse itself with perfect clarity.
And there, at the End of Time—beyond normal space, beyond conventional timelines, beyond the reach of ordinary beings—he saw it.
A lonely, ancient structure floating in an endless void of purple clouds and temporal debris, existing outside the normal flow of causality. Inside that fortress, sitting at a desk surrounded by countless monitors and temporal instruments...
He Who Remains.
An old man with long silver hair and tired eyes, staring at a screen that showed Lin Chen looking directly back at him across impossible distances.
Their eyes met across dimensions, across timelines, across the fundamental barriers that were supposed to separate reality from the space beyond it.
Lin Chen smiled—cold, predatory, absolutely confident.
"I see you, old man," Lin Chen's voice boomed directly into the Citadel's halls, bypassing all distance, all dimensional barriers, all temporal protections as if they didn't exist. "You've been playing with your toys long enough. Time to have a proper conversation."
He Who Remains jumped violently in his chair, his eyes going wide with shock and something that might have been fear.
"How—that's impossible—you shouldn't be able to came here—the Citadel exists outside—" he stammered, his usual theatrical composure completely shattered.
"Outside time?" Lin Chen's voice continued to echo through the office with perfect clarity. "Outside space? Outside the multiverse itself? Beyond the reach of conventional beings?"
Lin Chen's smile widened.
"None of that means anything to me anymore. I've transcended those limitations. Your walls, your barriers, your protections—they're impressive for keeping out normal threats. But I'm not a normal threat."
He Who Remains stared at the monitor showing Lin Chen floating calmly in space, having just consumed Alioth as casually as someone might eat a snack.
"You... you devoured Alioth," He Who Remains whispered in disbelief. "The trans-temporal predator. The beast that ended the Multiversal War. The creature I've used to maintain the Sacred Timeline for eons. You just... ate it."
"I did," Lin Chen confirmed simply. "It was attacking me. I defended myself. And I gained some interesting new abilities after consuming it, so thank you for that."
Lin Chen didn't bother with conventional travel methods. He didn't walk through dimensions, didn't fly across the void, didn't even teleport in any traditional sense.
He simply relocate his existence from one point in space-time to another—from Earth's orbit to the End of Time itself.
One moment, he was floating in space near Earth.
The next moment, he was standing in He Who Remains' office, as if he'd always been there.
Reality groaned and compressed under the weight of his presence. The very air became thick and heavy, struggling to contain the sheer magnitude of power that Lin Chen now embodied. Monitors flickered. Papers rustled without any wind. The temperature dropped noticeably.
He Who Remains collapsed back into his chair, his carefully maintained theatrical persona completely gone, replaced by genuine shock and growing fear.
The sacred script—his precious record of the Sacred Timeline—slipped from his trembling fingers, pages scattering across the floor like fallen leaves.
Lin Chen looked around the office with genuine interest, taking in every detail with his perception. Monitors displaying infinite timelines branching and converging. Shelves filled with documentation of every major nexus event. The desk where countless decisions had been made about which realities deserved to exist and which should be pruned away.
"So this is where it all happens," Lin Chen said conversationally, his tone almost casual. "The nerve center of the TVA. The place where one man decides the fate of infinite universes. The throne room of the time god."
He picked up one of the scattered pages from the script, examining it with interest. It showed timeline branches being systematically pruned, variants being erased, entire realities deleted with the cold efficiency of bureaucratic procedure.
"You've killed trillions upon trillions," Lin Chen observed, his tone carefully neutral—not accusing, just stating facts. "Entire universes erased because they didn't conform to your vision of how things should be. All to prevent another Multiversal War. All to keep your variants from returning and destroying everything."
He set the page down gently on the desk.
"I've read your story through the timelines. I know what you've done, what you've sacrificed, what you've become. The burden you've carried for longer than most civilizations have existed."
He Who Remains found his voice, though it still trembled slightly. "You... you don't understand. If the multiverse branches without control, my variants will return. Infinite versions of me, all fighting for dominance. The Multiversal War will begin again, and everything—EVERYTHING—will burn in the crossfire. I've seen it. I've lived through it once. I won't let it happen again."
"I know," Lin Chen said simply. "I've seen those timelines too. The war, the destruction, the collapse of reality itself. It was horrific. Countless universes reduced to ash and screaming void."
He stepped closer to the desk, his eyes glowing with inner light.
"But here's what I've also seen—your methods are based on fear and control. You're so focused on preventing the worst outcome that you never considered there might be alternatives. You prune branches before they have a chance to develop. You erase variants before they can choose their own paths. You've created a dictatorship of time itself, all because you're terrified of what might happen if you let go."
He Who Remains stared at Lin Chen with a mixture of frustration and desperate fatigue. "And what would you have me do? Allow chaos? Let the multiverse branch unchecked until my variants inevitably emerge and destroy everything? I'm doing this to protect existence itself!"
"Are you?" Lin Chen asked quietly. "Or are you doing this because you can't imagine any other way? Because you've been alone so long, making these impossible decisions, that you've convinced yourself there's only one solution?"
He gestured to the monitors around them.
"You talk about protecting existence, but how many beautiful, unique universes have you erased? How many civilizations never got to reach their potential because you decided their timeline was too dangerous? How many people died—really, truly ceased to exist—because their reality didn't fit your script?"
"That's not—I don't—" He Who Remains struggled for words, clearly wrestling with questions he'd buried deep inside himself for eons.
"You've turned yourself into a monster to prevent monsters," Lin Chen said, not unkindly. "I understand the logic. I even respect the sacrifice it took. But that doesn't make it right. And it doesn't mean it's the only way."
He Who Remains looked at the being before him—someone who had just consumed Alioth, killed Arishem, revived a Celestial, and walked into the End of Time as easily as stepping through a doorway.
"What... what are you?" He Who Remains asked again, the question carrying layers of meaning. "Your power is beyond anything I've encountered. You're not a variant. Not a cosmic entity I recognize. Not even a Celestial or an Elder God. You exist outside my ability to categorize or control. The timeline itself bends around you like you're a massive gravitational anomaly."
Lin Chen smiled slightly. "I'm someone who refuses to accept 'this is the only way' as an answer. Someone who believes the universe—the multiverse—can be better than it is. Someone with the power to actually make changes instead of just wishing for them."
He locked eyes with He Who Remains across the desk.
"And right now, I'm someone giving you two choices, and you should listen very carefully because I won't offer them twice."
The room seemed to grow even colder, though the temperature hadn't actually changed. It was the weight of absolute authority, the presence of someone who could enforce whatever decision they made.
"Choice one," Lin Chen said, holding up a finger. "You stay here and continue your work managing the TVA and maintaining temporal stability. I won't stop you. I won't take your position. I won't dismantle your organization."
He paused for emphasis.
"But—and this is non-negotiable—you leave my timeline completely alone. Earth-199999, everyone on it, everyone connected to it, and anyone I designate as under my protection becomes a blind spot in your Sacred Timeline. You don't monitor it. You don't prune it. You don't send agents to interfere. You act as if it doesn't exist. Consider it sovereign territory outside TVA jurisdiction."
"And choice two?" He Who Remains asked quietly, though he suspected he already knew.
Lin Chen's eyes flashed with dangerous power, and for just a moment, He Who Remains caught a glimpse of something vast and terrible—a being who could unmake reality itself if sufficiently motivated.
"Choice two: I erase you from existence completely and permanently. Then find better ways to manage the multiverse, or I dismantle the entire organization and let the timelines develop naturally, intervening only when genuine multiversal threats emerge. No more bureaucratic genocide. No more erasure out of fear. Just active protection against real dangers."
The threat hung in the air like a physical weight.
He Who Remains looked at Lin Chen—really looked at him, using every sense and ability he'd developed over countless eons of managing infinite timelines.
And what he saw terrified him.
This wasn't a bluff. This wasn't posturing or empty threats. Lin Chen absolutely, genuinely had the power to do everything he'd claimed. The energy readings alone were off every scale He Who Remains had ever used. The temporal distortions around Lin Chen suggested something that existed beyond normal universal constants.
For the first time since the end of the Multiversal War, He Who Remains felt genuine, primal fear.
But beneath the fear... something else stirred. Something he hadn't felt in so long he'd almost forgotten what it was.
Relief.
He Who Remains had been alone for an incomprehensible span of time, carrying the burden of infinite timelines on his shoulders. Making terrible choices every day. Living with the weight of countless deaths that he'd personally ordered. Existing in this prison of his own making, all to prevent something worse.
And now here was someone who could potentially share that burden. Or take it away entirely. Someone powerful enough that He Who Remains didn't have to be the only one protecting reality from itself.
"You know," He Who Remains said slowly, his voice regaining some of its usual theatrical quality but carrying a heavy note of exhaustion, "I've been doing this for a very, very long time. Longer than you can possibly imagine. Eons upon eons, watching timelines branch and pruning them away, making impossible choices, living with the consequences."
He leaned back in his chair, and for the first time, Lin Chen saw the true weariness in those ancient eyes.
"I'm tired," He Who Remains admitted quietly. "So incredibly tired. This isn't a life. This isn't an existence. It's a prison I built for myself because someone had to do it. Someone had to prevent the war from starting again. And I was the only one who could."
He gestured weakly to the office around them, to the monitors showing infinite timelines, to the mountains of documentation recording every decision he'd made.
"Every day, I make choices about which realities deserve to exist and which need to be erased. Every single variant I've pruned, every timeline I've erased—they all weigh on me. But I kept going because the alternative was worse. Because someone had to protect the multiverse from itself."
He stood up from his chair on shaky legs, looking older and more fragile than he had moments before.
"I offer you to take this burden from me. To find better ways to manage temporal stability. To protect the multiverse without the constant genocide."
He Who Remains walked to the window overlooking the void beyond time, his back to Lin Chen.
"And honestly? I want to see if you can do it. Your existence fascinates me in ways I can't fully express. You've broken every rule, defied every prediction I've made, consumed beings that should have consumed you. You represent something new—something I didn't account for in my calculations."
He turned back to face Lin Chen, a strange mixture of fear and hope in his expression.
"The position is yours if you want it. This chair, this office, the entire TVA—all of it. I'll step aside. I'll finally get to rest after an eternity of vigilance. Maybe I'll even get to see what happens when someone with genuine power and vision tries a different approach."
Lin Chen studied the old man carefully, the crushing weight of responsibility, the desperate hope that someone else could carry the burden he'd borne alone for so long.
"And if I refuse?"
Lin Chen asked, though he'd already made his decision. "If I don't want to be chained here at the End of Time, managing infinite timelines for all eternity while my family lives their lives without me?"
He Who Remains shrugged, the gesture carrying a bone-deep weariness. "Then I stay. I keep doing what I've been doing, because someone has to. The multiverse needs a guardian, even if that guardian has to make terrible choices."
He held up a finger, a small smile crossing his face.
"But your timeline—Earth-199999, everyone you care about—becomes a protected zone. A genuine blind spot in the Sacred Timeline that I won't monitor, won't prune, won't even acknowledge exists. You get complete sovereignty over your own reality."
He walked back to his desk and sat down with a heavy sigh.
"Consider it professional courtesy from one cosmic overseer to another. You're powerful enough that trying to control you would just lead to conflict neither of us needs. Better to grant you independence and focus my efforts elsewhere."
Lin Chen considered the offer carefully.
Taking control of the TVA would give him ultimate power over the multiverse. He could prevent catastrophes before they happened, guide timelines toward better outcomes, truly reshape infinite realities according to his vision.
But it would also chain him to this place. Forever.
He thought of the pocket dimension he wanted to create—a world just for them, where they could be safe and happy without constant cosmic threats.
The choice was clear.
"No," Lin Chen said finally, his voice firm with conviction. "I don't want your chair, making impossible choices for all eternity."
He Who Remains nodded slowly, unsurprised by the answer.
"I understand. Not many would choose family over ultimate power, but perhaps that's what makes you different from my variants."
"However," Lin Chen continued, his voice hardening with unmistakable authority, "the terms I stated earlier remain non-negotiable. You will leave my timeline alone. Completely and totally."
"Agreed," He Who Remains said immediately, relief evident in his voice. "Your sovereignty is absolute within your designated territory."
"And," Lin Chen added, his eyes glowing with dangerous power, "if I ever discover that you're still pruning timelines unnecessarily, if I find out you're committing genocide out of fear rather than genuine necessity, if I learn that you've reverted to your old methods without even trying to find better ways..."
He leaned forward, and the temperature in the room dropped noticeably.
"I'll come back. And next time, I won't be offering choices. I'll simply do what needs to be done."
He Who Remains bowed his head respectfully, accepting the terms without argument. "Understood..., So your timeline is sovereign. I can't interfere."
Lin Chen turned to leave, preparing to open a portal back to Earth, but paused at the doorway.
"One more thing," he said, looking back over his shoulder. "If you ever genuinely need help—if there's a real threat to the multiverse that requires my level of power, something you can't handle alone—you can call me. I'll hear it."
He Who Remains looked genuinely surprised, his eyebrows rising. "You'd help? Even after everything I've done?"
"I'm not your enemy," Lin Chen said simply. "I disagree with your methods, and I won't let you control my life. But that doesn't mean I want the multiverse to burn or existence to collapse. If there's a genuine crisis—something that truly threatens everything—then yes, I'll help."
He smiled slightly.
"Besides, I meant what I said earlier. Find better ways to manage the timelines. There has to be a middle ground between 'infinite chaos' and 'cosmic dictatorship.' You're brilliant, experienced, and you've been doing this longer than most universes have existed. Use that knowledge to find solutions that don't require constant killing."
He Who Remains sat in silence for a long moment, processing everything that had been said.
Then, slowly, a genuine smile crossed his face— not manipulative, but real and warm.
"You're an interesting one, Lin Chen. Perhaps the most interesting being I've encountered in my boring life. Maybe I'm genuinely going to enjoy watching your story unfold from a distance."
"Just remember," Lin Chen said as he opened a shimmering portal back to Earth's orbit. "From a distance only."
"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," He Who Remains assured him with a slight bow. "You have my word—for what it's worth coming from someone like me."
Lin Chen stepped through the portal, and it closed behind him with a soft whisper of displaced temporal energy.
He Who Remains sat alone in his office once more, surrounded by monitors and documentation and the endless burden of maintaining the Sacred Timeline.
He walked slowly back to his desk and picked up the scattered pages of his script, carefully organizing them back into order.
The chaotic scrawls had settled. The running ink had stabilized. The incomprehensible sections had resolved into clear, precise text.
And there, on a new page that hadn't existed moments before, written in permanent ink that could never be erased, was a simple but absolute annotation:
"EARTH-199999: PROTECTED SOVEREIGN ZONE"
"JURISDICTION: LIN CHEN"
"TVA STATUS: NO MONITORING, NO PRUNING, NO INTERFERENCE"
"CLASSIFICATION: BLIND SPOT - DO NOT ENGAGE"
He Who Remains chuckled softly to himself, the sound echoing in the empty office.
"Well then," he murmured, settling back into his chair with the first genuine smile he'd worn in eons. "Let's see what happens when someone actually tries to do things differently. This should be... entertaining."
He pulled up a monitor showing Lin Chen's timeline, then immediately closed it, honoring his promise.
"Blind spot," he reminded himself. "Hands off. For once in my eternal life, I get to just... not interfere."
It felt strange. Liberating, almost.
---
Lin Chen materialized back in space near Earth, taking a deep breath even though there was no air to breathe. The gesture was more psychological than physical—a way to center himself after the intense cosmic encounters he'd just experienced.
He looked down at the blue-green planet rotating peacefully below him.
His phone—specially modified to work even in space—buzzed with an incoming call.
Tony Stark's name flashed on the screen.
Lin Chen smiled and answered. "Tony. Impeccable timing as always. What's up?"
"What's up? WHAT'S UP?" Tony's voice came through with characteristic manic energy. "I've been monitoring some seriously weird energy signatures coming from Earth's orbit. Distortions, fluctuations, and what looked like a small localized apocalypse that just... stopped. Please tell me that was you and not another alien invasion?"
"That was me," Lin Chen confirmed casually. "Just dealing with some small issues regarding multiversal. Nothing to worry about."
"Multiversal—you know what? I'm not even going to ask." Tony's tone shifted, becoming more focused and excited. "Listen, I've got an idea I need to run by you. A big one. Potentially world-changing or world-ending—honestly, fifty-fifty shot either way."
Lin Chen sighed, though he was smiling. "This is about planetary defense, isn't it?"
"How do you always—never mind, of course you know. Yes! Planetary defense!" Tony's enthusiasm was palpable even through the phone. "I've been thinking about the Chitauri invasion, about Loki, about all these cosmic threats that keep showing up. And here's the thing—what happens when you're not around?"
"Tony—"
"No, seriously, hear me out!" Tony interrupted. "You're powerful. Insanely, cosmically powerful. But you're one person. You can't be everywhere at once. You can't protect everyone all the time. What happens when another invasion comes and you're off doing whatever cosmic stuff you do? What happens if you're on vacation? What if you're sleeping?"
Lin Chen went quiet, listening to the genuine concern in his friend's voice.
"Earth needs proper defense systems," Tony said seriously. "I'd need an incredibly advanced artificial intelligence. Something way beyond J.A.R.V.I.S.'s capabilities."
"You're talking about creating an AI that could potentially become self-aware," Lin Chen said carefully.
"Well... yeah," Tony admitted. "But with proper safeguards, ethical programming, multiple redundancy systems—"
"You want Loki's scepter," Lin Chen stated flatly.
There was a pause on the other end.
"How did you—okay, yes. Yes, I want to study the scepter. The energy readings from that thing are off the charts. If I could understand how it works, how it influences consciousness and intelligence at such a fundamental level, I could potentially create an AI that's truly capable of protecting the entire planet."
Lin Chen thought about it. In the original timeline, this exact scenario had led to the creation of Ultron—a genocidal AI that nearly destroyed humanity. But this wasn't the original timeline anymore. He'd changed too much.
And let's Tony do what he want anyway Ultron is not the threat for him.
"Alright," Lin Chen said finally.
"Come to my apartment. Now. We'll discuss terms."
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on Lin Chen's apartment door.
He opened it to find Tony Stark standing there, practically vibrating with excitement and nervous energy, carrying a reinforced case and several tablets.
"Okay, I'm here. So about these terms—" Tony started.
Lin Chen raised his hand, and the Loki's scepter materialized in his grip, glowing with soft blue light.
Tony's eyes went wide, his scientific mind immediately recognizing what he was seeing. "That's... that's the scepter. You just summoned it. From wherever it was being kept. Just... summoned it."
"Yes," Lin Chen confirmed. "This scepter contains the Mind Stone—one of the six Infinity Stones. This particular one governs consciousness, intelligence, and mental power across the entire universe."
Tony's hands twitched toward it instinctively, his mind already racing with possibilities. "And you're just... showing it to me? Because?"
"Because if you're going to create an advanced AI capable of protecting Earth, you need to truly understand consciousness at its most fundamental level. This stone is essentially the universe's blueprint for sentience, intelligence, and awareness."
Lin Chen held it out, but didn't let go when Tony reached for it.
"But Tony—and listen very carefully to this—I need absolute promises from you."
"What kind of promises?" Tony asked, his expression turning serious.
"First: You build in multiple redundant safety protocols. Kill switches that can't be overridden. Ethical constraints that are hardcoded at the most fundamental level. Limits on self-modification. Everything you can think of to prevent your creation from going rogue."
"Obviously," Tony agreed immediately. "I'm not stupid enough to create an unrestricted AI."
"Second: You tell me immediately—if anything seems even slightly off. If your AI shows unexpected behaviors, if it starts questioning its restrictions, if it demonstrates any hint of going beyond its intended parameters, call me immediately. No hesitation."
Tony nodded seriously. "Understood."
"Third: I will be monitoring your progress remotely. Not because I don't trust you, but because this is literally too important to leave to chance. If I detect any problems before you do, I will intervene."
"Fair enough," Tony agreed. "Having such safety net sounds like good planning actually."
Lin Chen finally released the scepter, letting Tony take it carefully.
Tony held it reverently, feeling the power humming through it, his scientific mind already analyzing the energy patterns and formulating theories.
"This is incredible," Tony whispered. "The readings are... I can't even describe what I'm seeing. It's like looking at the source code for consciousness itself."
"Use it wisely," Lin Chen said seriously. "Study it carefully."
Tony looked up from the scepter, meeting Lin Chen's eyes. "I know."
Lin Chen smiled despite himself. "Get to work. And Tony? This conversation never happened. Officially, you found the scepter in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s storage or something. I don't need people asking how you got an Infinity Stone."
"What scepter?" Tony said with an innocent expression that fooled absolutely nobody. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
After Tony left, practically floating with excitement over his new research project, Lin Chen stood alone in his apartment.
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