Silence reigned in the lab long after the echo of the Snap had vanished.
The charred, scorched remains of Wakanda's most secure chamber were now a crypt, haunted by loss. Smoke still curled from shattered panels and broken circuitry. The air reeked of ozone and grief. In the center, Alexander lay still, half-buried under crumbled debris, his armor cracked, chest unmoving. His face, once resolute, was pale and bloodied, framed by a web of fractured shadows. Time itself seemed to have stopped around his unmoving body.
Noctis remained beside him, the last flicker of his fading essence coiling around his master protectively. He no longer had the strength to stand; his figure flickered, distorted, like a candle in a storm. His spectral hand gently brushed against Alexander's gauntlet. Even shadows, forged for war, could mourn.
"Master…" he murmured, voice low and broken. "I failed to protect them… I failed you."
A flicker of memory crossed Noctis's mind—a brief vision of the first day Alexander summoned him, their pact forged in the heart of battle. That moment had given Noctis purpose.
A faint hum came from the cracked system embedded in Alexander's chestplate.
[SYSTEM STATUS: CRITICAL]
[PHYSICAL VITALS: UNSTABLE — NO NEURAL RESPONSE]
[SHADOW CORE… DIM]
Noctis turned his head slightly. His ghostly eyes stared toward the flickering holographic interface, the system's glow too dim, its tone almost mournful. He knew Alexander's life was slipping away, bit by bit.
He gritted his spectral teeth. "Then… I'll buy you time."
A weak surge of dark light ignited in his chest. His form began to unravel at the edges, his shape deteriorating into tendrils of shadow. But within, purpose burned brighter than fear.
"System," he croaked, "activate… Phase Lock."
[COMMAND ACCEPTED — INITIATING SHADOW STASIS]
A sphere of pulsing darkness expanded around Alexander, halting the deterioration of his vitals. The shadows wrapped him like a cocoon, stalling the failing systems inside his body. His broken form shimmered beneath the veil of light and shadow as if suspended in time. Noctis collapsed beside him, smiling weakly.
"I'll hold the line… just a little longer."
With that, his body faded, a wisp in the wind. The last of his consciousness etched into the shadows he left behind.
Far away, the world trembled.
At an airport in Paris, a girl screamed as her mother vanished mid-embrace. The child cried, tugging at the empty coat her mother had been wearing moments earlier. A suitcase rolled away unattended.
In a classroom in Seoul, a teacher froze in mid-sentence as half her students turned to dust. One little boy reached across the aisle to his best friend—only to find an empty seat and a pile of fading ash.
In a hospital in Cairo, a surgeon froze—then faded—leaving blood-soaked gloves to fall onto the chest of a patient whose heart monitor began to flatline. Nurses screamed as IVs and surgical tools clattered to the floor.
In Tokyo, a firefighter disappeared while rescuing a trapped boy, leaving the child staring up in terror at a building about to collapse. A nearby onlooker rushed forward, screaming for help.
Buses crashed as drivers vanished mid-turn. Planes fell from the sky. Ships veered off course with no one at the helm. The earth, once noisy and vibrant, suddenly felt hollow, gripped by confusion, fear, and aching silence. Emergency services were overwhelmed. News anchors wept live on air. Across the ruins of Sokovia, Clint Barton held his daughter's hand—until her fingers turned to ash.
At the Avengers Facility, Steve Rogers stood hunched over a console, fists clenched. He had seen war, seen loss—but this… this felt beyond comprehension. He stared at the digital roster of the Avengers Initiative. Half the faces had turned gray, marked "DECEASED" in flashing red.
Bruce Banner stared numbly at the blank screen in front of him, his reflection distorted in the glass. His voice had gone hoarse from calling names into empty comms. Even as the Hulk, he felt powerless.
Natasha paced the room like a caged lion, her voice cracking with every breath. "Wanda's gone. So is T'Challa. Bucky… Sam…" She gripped the edge of the table to stay upright.
Thor sat on the floor, Stormbreaker resting across his lap. His hands were shaking. His eyes, usually fierce and defiant, stared into nothing. Guilt consumed him—he had aimed for the chest too late. He murmured Odin's name under his breath, but no answer came.
Rocket leaned in the corner, silent for once, ears drooped, a tremble in his whiskers. "They're really gone," he whispered. His voice was barely audible over the silence.
Then the door opened.
Tony Stark entered, slowly. His armor was cracked. His face was pale. And his hands were trembling.
He didn't speak.
He walked past them all, eyes hollow, and placed Peter's mask gently on the table. The silence in the room deepened, wrapped around the group like a shroud. A tear slid down Tony's cheek, unnoticed.
No one said a word. No one dared.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The ticking of a wall clock was the only sound.
Finally, Steve whispered, "What do we do now?"
No one had an answer.
Elsewhere, deep within a starlit nebula, the Benatar floated, drifting like a ghost ship.
Nebula piloted it in silence. She didn't cry. She couldn't. But in the rearview monitor, the empty seats behind her said everything. Gamora… gone. Star-Lord… gone. Drax… Mantis… all of them. Her cybernetic fingers clenched the controls tighter.
Meanwhile, in a lonely cabin on an alien planet, Thanos watched the sunrise.
The planet was quiet. Peaceful.
Birds chirped in the distance. The wind rustled through tall alien grass. It was everything he had promised—peace, balance. But he sat there, his body ruined, the Gauntlet fused to his skin, and for all his triumph… he looked hollow. His eyes, once full of fury, now stared with exhaustion.
He stepped outside slowly, his boots crunching softly on alien soil. The sun touched his face with warmth he no longer felt.
He sat on the steps and exhaled.
It was done.
But even here, in the stillness, something stirred.
A pulse. Faint. Distant.
Back on Earth, in the wreckage of the Wakandan lab, the system activated again.
[PHASE LOCK COMPLETE]
[UNKNOWN SIGNAL DETECTED… COMPATIBLE ENERGY FOUND]
[SYNCHRONIZATION PAUSED — WAITING FOR USER AWAKENING]
A shadow moved in the darkness. Not Noctis. Not Vasili. Something older. Silent. Watching. It did not move closer—yet—but it remained, lingering at the edge of the stasis field, waiting. A faint outline suggested something regal, cloaked in ancient bindings of shadow—an imprint buried deep within the Shadow System itself.
The screen dimmed.
To be continued.
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