A Request to the All-Mother
Alexander stood beside Frigga beneath Asgard's open sky.
"Mother," he said gently, "I want to go to Midgard."
Frigga studied him.
"You go there every few years already," she said. "But this time feels… different."
Alexander smiled faintly. "It is."
She did not press him.
After a moment, she nodded.
"Then go," Frigga said.
"But return."
"I always do."
She kissed his forehead.
Midgard, Through a Long Lens
Alexander did not rush.
Every few decades, he returned quietly—never as a god, never as a ruler.
He went to places he remembered from his past life.
Old mountains.
Ancient veins of stone.
Sleeping wealth beneath the earth.
The Hidden Work
In forgotten mines, Alexander worked alone.
Fire magic refined.
Water cooled.
Runes stabilized.
Gold melted cleanly, shaped into bars, and stored inside his Empty Dimension.
Diamonds followed.
Not greed.
Preparation.
Wakanda, Before Wakanda
He traveled further south.
What would one day become Wakanda was still a hidden tribe—proud, wary, unbroken.
Alexander did not interfere.
He only searched.
Deep beneath the earth, he found it.
Vibranium.
One thousand kilograms.
Carefully extracted.
No collapse.
No trace.
He also harvested several Heart-Shaped Herbs, preserving them perfectly.
The future would thank him.
The Hundred-Year Sign-In
In a quiet cave far from any eyes—
Alexander sat cross-legged and breathed out slowly.
"System," he said. "Sign in."
System Notice:
Host has completed 100-Year Sign-In
Rewards upgraded to Maximum
Light surged.
System Reward:
🔥 High-Grade Phoenix Core
🔥 High-Grade Phoenix Heart
Alexander's pulse slowed—not quickened.
"Raphael," he asked calmly, "how many souls?"
Raphael answered without emotion.
Raphael:
"Due to Dark Phoenix rarity:
Standard requirement: 800,000–1,000,000 souls."
"However—High-Grade Empty Dimension reduces requirement."
"Adjusted requirement: 650,000 souls."
Alexander nodded.
He thought of history.
Wars past.
Wars coming.
"…The number aligns," he murmured.
A Forgotten Resource
Raphael spoke again.
Raphael:
"Master has not utilized Summon Tickets."
Alexander froze.
"…Right."
He exhaled and laughed quietly.
"Thank you, Raphael."
The Summoning
The summoning circle expanded—far more complex than before.
Six lights descended.
When they cleared—
They stood there.
Retsu Unohana Morgan le Fay Scáthach Artoria Pendragon (Saber Alter) Grayfia Lucifuge Jeanne d'Arc Alter
Each powerful.
Each dangerous.
Each absolute.
And all of them—
Stared.
Because the one who summoned them was not a tyrant.
But something more.
Platinum-silver hair.
Molten gold eyes with a silver ring.
Divinity restrained, not flaunted.
"…So this is our Master," Morgan murmured.
Several of them—despite themselves—blushed.
Alexander inclined his head politely.
"I am Alexander Ashborn Odinson," he said.
"For the next ten years, I ask for your cooperation."
Inside their minds—
Different thoughts formed.
Interesting.
Dangerous.
Handsome.
Ours.
Ripples Across Realms
Far away—
In Asgard—
Amora paused mid-spell.
Lorelei frowned.
Sif tightened her grip on her sword.
"…Something was taken," Sif muttered.
In Hel—
Hela's smile vanished.
"…He summoned others," she said flatly.
The realm darkened.
The Plan
In Midgard, Alexander laid out his intent.
"For the next ten years," he said calmly,
"we will remain here."
"No conquest.
No massacre."
"Only souls released through war—those already destined to die."
The summoned women listened.
And nodded.
A Quiet Beginning
Alexander bought a modest house.
Nothing grand.
Nothing divine.
Just a place to wait.
To prepare.
To let history move.
As night fell—
The Dark Phoenix slept.
And fate began counting forward.