The ceremony lingered for another half hour, each word of prayer and eulogy weighed down by grief. Finally, after the last hymn faded into silence, the funeral concluded.
Guests from across the United States—politicians, tycoons, scientists, and old acquaintances of the Stark family—filed out in twos and threes, exchanging soft words of condolence as they prepared to leave.
"Thank you for coming."
"It means the world to my father."
"Your presence honors the Stark family."
Tony Stark, usually a man of sharp tongue and sharper pride, endured the endless line of handshakes and bows without a trace of his usual impatience. For once, the arrogant genius put away his swagger, lowering his stance to greet those who had known his father.
In that subdued atmosphere, Alex rose from his seat. The faint rustle of his movement drew countless eyes like iron to a magnet. Even here, in a hall meant to honor another man, his presence could not be ignored.
As he strode toward Tony Stark, the mourners instinctively parted, creating a clear path. No one dared obstruct him.
This was not merely a man. This was the king of a nation. The ruler of Krakoa—the most advanced country on Earth. The savior who had, time and again, stood between humanity and annihilation. His very shadow carried the weight of a world.
For the Stark family, Alex's appearance at the funeral was not just consolation—it was glory. Something they could speak of for generations to come.
"Alex."
Tony moved quickly to meet him. His expression was solemn, his handshake firm. Though Howard Stark had often spoken of this man, Tony's own impressions were faint, little more than scattered fragments from his childhood. The idea that Alex had once held him as a boy felt almost absurd.
Still, even Tony, who bent the knee to no one, acknowledged the sheer significance of the man before him.
"Thank you for coming. My father would have been glad you were here," Tony said, voice uncharacteristically sincere.
"Howard was one of my few friends. Of course I would come," Alex replied, his tone calm, almost detached, but carrying a quiet weight.
Their exchange was brief. A nod, a few words, and then Alex turned to leave.
The moment he stepped outside, the stillness shattered.
Click! Click! Click!
Camera flashes exploded like lightning across the church steps. Reporters surged forward in a frenzy, shouting questions that would never be answered. Even one word from Alex would have been priceless—front-page material for every paper in the world.
But he didn't spare them so much as a glance.
Boom!
His figure shot skyward, a streak of power vanishing into the clouds, leaving only the echo of disappointed sighs below.
Boom!
The very next moment, Alex reappeared at the gates of Krakoa's high-security laboratory.
"Alex!"
Raven and Hank rushed forward as soon as they saw him, tension sharp in their faces. Despite his title as king, in private they still addressed him with the familiarity of comrades who had stood by his side since the beginning.
"What's happening?" Alex asked, his voice even as the three of them moved briskly into the lab.
"The Tesseract," Hank said, his brow furrowed, "it's been in an activated state for hours. But none of us touched it. None of us could have."
He hesitated, struggling for the right words. "It's as if… as if the Cube awakened on its own. As if it suddenly developed a will."
"How long?"
"Roughly four hours now."
"And aside from the activation?" Alex pressed. "Any surges, distortions, energy spikes?"
"Nothing. Just constant activation."
Alex's eyes narrowed, then lit with something far sharper than concern—anticipation. A thin smile tugged at his lips.
"Hank, remember what I once told you? The Tesseract is more than a power source. It's a door."
Hank froze, realization dawning. His throat tightened. "If it's a door… then there's another world on the other side. You mean—someone else is opening it?"
"Exactly." Alex's voice was quiet but certain. "We're about to have a visitor."
Both Raven and Hank stiffened. A "visitor" from another realm—through a cosmic artifact like the Cube—that was no trivial matter. Their minds raced with possibilities, each more catastrophic than the last. What if it was a tyrant? A galactic warlord?
Alex, however, remained composed, utterly unshaken. "Relax. If my guess is correct, only one man would use the Tesseract this way."
"Who?" Raven demanded. Hank leaned in, tense.
"Loki."
They both blinked.
"Loki? As in… the god from the old myths?"
"Yes. Loki of Asgard," Alex said, his tone as casual as if he were naming a neighbor.
The words hit like thunder. Raven and Hank were left speechless.
Asgard? Could it be real?
Raven finally managed, "Wait—you're telling us Asgard actually exists? That's not just some fairy tale realm?"
"Asgard exists," Alex confirmed with calm certainty. "Thor, Loki, Odin—they're all real. But don't let the myths fool you. They're not gods. They're just powerful aliens. When they came to Earth long ago, ancient humans mistook them for deities, and myths grew around their names."
He glanced at them, his expression almost dismissive. "In truth, they're nothing more than another race. Impressive, yes, but hardly divine."
Raven and Hank exchanged stunned looks. The world they thought they knew had just cracked open, and through the cracks spilled the impossible.
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