In the days that followed, one name echoed through every corner of the galaxy.
Soren.
The man from Earth… an unremarkable backwater planet in the eyes of most galactic powers… had done the unthinkable.
First, the Red Devils. Then the Flame Titan. And now… Ronan the Accuser, the iron hammer of the Kree Empire, had been crushed into blood and bone in the Realm of Knowhere.
The first reaction from many factions was denial.
"Impossible. Fabricated."
The Kree High Command dismissed the rumor as psychological warfare.
The Xandarians thought it was a ploy to destabilize the balance of power. Even mercenaries and warlords scoffed at the idea.
But then, the footage dropped.
Leaked across the intergalactic networks by an unknown source, it showed everything.
A realm bathed in starlight.
Ronan, wielding the full might of the Universal Weapon.
And Soren, calm, unfazed, bending space around him like a sculptor shaping clay.
The moment Ronan's Judgment Light froze midair and shattered like glass, gasps rippled across the cosmos. Then came the final blow, a sphere of warped space tearing the Kree warlord apart, his body exploding into grotesque streaks of light and blood.
No one could deny it now.
On Sanctuary
In the cold void of Sanctuary, Thanos sat high upon his obsidian throne, a projection of the battle replaying before him in ghostly detail. His lieutenants stood still, afraid even to breathe.
As Ronan's final moment played out, Thanos leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
A faint hum of distorted gravity pulsed around him.
"Space…"
"And time."
His voice was a seismic growl.
With just a few frames of footage, he saw it… Soren wielded both the Space and Time Stones.
And more than that… Thanos recognized the signature energy that had disrupted spacetime not long ago across the void. Soren was the cause.
A long silence followed.
Then he spoke again.
"Gather the Black Order. Begin the search."
On Sakaar
On the chaotic pleasure-world of Sakaar, the Grandmaster swirled a golden cocktail as he reclined in his floating lounge. A screen in front of him looped the footage of Ronan's death.
His smile was gone.
Not long ago, he had dismissed the death of the Flame Titan,his long-time ally, as a fluke.
A lucky shot by a determined opponent.
But now?
Two galactic powerhouses had been erased… by the same man.
He opened a secure channel to a private network, dialing through the Senate archives. Moments later, the flickering image of the Collector appeared.
"Taneleer. My dear brother. What in the name of eternity is this Soren?"
The Collector looked tired, but calm.
"A man out of place."
"He killed Ronan like he was nothing. The Flame Titan too. What else do you know?"
The Collector paused, then said quietly:
"He trapped Dormammu."
The Grandmaster blinked.
"...What?"
"Banished him into a time-looped void. Crushed his will. Forced him to bargain for his own release."
"And you're telling me this… now?"
The Collector gave a thin smile.
"Because I know you, brother. You're impulsive. Reckless."
"You'd confront him to satisfy your ego and you'd be obliterated before you said a word."
The Grandmaster's fingers clenched his glass.
"He can't be that strong. No one can wield that kind of power—"
"Three Infinity Stones." The Collector cut in. "That's how many he holds."
"And though he doesn't yet master their full potential… he's learning."
The line went silent.
Then, one final warning.
"Don't test him. Our lives may be long, but they're not eternal. And Soren's command of time and space? He could erase you from existence before you ever realized you'd been erased."
With that, the call ended.
The Grandmaster stared into the bottom of his drink, his confident smirk long vanished. The ice clinked quietly.
"What in the cosmos are you, Soren?"
Not just Thanos.
Not just the Grandmaster.
There was another… far more ancient being who now turned his attention to the name Soren.
A force that made entire galaxies tremble.
A cosmic devourer whose hunger shaped the destiny of stars.
Galactus.
He had been watching from the edge of existence, recovering slowly, wounded, humiliated.
It was not his true body that had faced Soren before, but a Duplication, a cosmic avatar infused with a terrifying portion of his power.
One he had carefully crafted after draining a dozen star systems, designed to roam and devour independently, to make him stronger without requiring his full presence.
But when that duplication was destroyed, instantly, with no signal sent back, the backlash hit him like a supernova.
Galactus had collapsed, the blow ripping through the fabric of his own body. Even now, he lay upon a dying star, siphoning energy in desperate gulps.
His voice rumbled across the astral plane.
"Who... did this?"
"What kind of being can obliterate my manifestation without warning? Without trace?"
The last time he felt this powerless, the other four Creation Gods had mocked him behind veils of light. He had always been considered the weakest of the Five, a god only in name.
Galactus clenched his fist, solar wind swirling around his broken form.
"Was it one of them? Did they grow bolder? Or... is there a new force?"
He searched through cosmic echoes, tracing the remains of his duplicate's destruction. The answer came wrapped in spirals of distorted time and space, clear evidence of Infinity Stones.
"Space. Time."
"That explains it. Someone is using the Stones... foolishly, or with purpose?"
Then the galactic network erupted with breaking news
Ronan the Accuser. Dead.
Destroyed by an Earthling... named Soren.
Galactus, already piecing together the puzzle, saw the broadcast for himself. He watched the battle, his massive eyes narrowing at the sight of the same warped space-time signature that had unmade his avatar.
"So... you are the one."
Galactus was patient.
Though rage burned within him, he was not yet ready to act.
"I will not confront you while wounded, Earthling. But know this—when I rise again, I will find you. And devour everything you love in the slowest storm of entropy."
Nova Corps Headquarters
Meanwhile, on Xandar, the capital world of the Nova Corps, a wave of relief swept through the high command.
For years, Ronan had loomed over them like a sword above the throne. His fleet, his madness, his increasing strength—it had all pointed to one final siege against the Nova Corps.
Now? He was gone.
The central chamber erupted in cheers.
"He's dead!"
"We're free!"
"Soren… whoever you are… thank you!"
Commander Rael watched the footage again, leaning forward over her desk.
She squinted, analyzing every frame of Soren's calm posture as he unleashed reality-warping destruction on Ronan's forces.
"An Earthling?" She muttered. "How does someone from Earth hold this kind of power?"
Nova Prime entered, her tone cautious but curious.
"We've had our eyes on Earth. Minor threats, small-scale tech. This changes everything."
"We need information. Who he is, where he is, what he wants."
"And whether he's a savior..." Rael narrowed her eyes.
"Or the next cosmic threat."
Elsewhere
The battle had caught the Guardians of the Galaxy in its whirlwind. They hadn't expected Soren to intervene, none of them had even heard of him before he casually erased Ronan like flicking dust from a table.
Now, as they drifted through space, everyone was on edge.
Rocket sat in the corner of the cockpit, cleaning his blaster while muttering:
"That guy… did you see what he did? Space folded like a napkin. A napkin!"
Peter Quill gave a nervous laugh.
"I'm just glad he was on our side."
Gamora folded her arms. "You don't understand."
Drax, ever literal, asked "So... is Soren now the most powerful being in the galaxy?"
"If he isn't, I'd love to meet whoever is. From a very safe distance." Rocket snorted.
Even Yondu, tracking the event from afar, paused when he saw the battle logs.
"Soren, huh? Earth's crankin' out monsters now..."
And across the universe, those who once considered Soren an unknown were now whispering his name with awe... and fear.