Night had settled over New York.
The city, however, refused to sleep.
From the distance came the constant glow of buildings, moving traffic, aircraft lights and countless windows illuminating streets beneath the dark sky.
Yet several miles away from the crowded heart of Manhattan, the Morgan estate seemed to belong to another world entirely.
KB's manor rested beneath a blanket of silence.
The architecture mixed modern elegance with touches brought from India over generations. Long glass galleries opened toward carefully maintained gardens. Ancient sculptures stood beside technology that most governments did not know existed. Trees moved gently beneath the night breeze while small lights illuminated stone pathways around the estate.
Normally, KB enjoyed the quiet.
Tonight, he needed it.
He stood alone in the open gallery on the upper floor.
The glass doors behind him remained open.
A cool breeze moved through his hair.
His hands rested against the railing.
Above him—
stars.
Countless stars.
From Earth, they seemed insignificant.
Points of light scattered across darkness.
Tiny.
Distant.
Beautiful.
KB had been staring at them for almost twenty minutes.
Yet he wasn't truly looking at the stars.
His mind kept returning to the previous night.
A gaze.
A presence.
The River of Time.
And himself.
Another KB.
The same face.
The same eyes.
Yet incomparably different.
Power so immense that the present KB couldn't properly measure it.
And despite all that power—
wounds.
Exhaustion.
The burden of countless realities.
There had been something else in those future eyes too.
Regret.
Not defeat.
That distinction mattered.
His future self had not looked like someone who had surrendered.
Even wounded.
Even carrying creation upon his shoulders.
There had been a determination in him that KB recognized instantly.
Because it was his own.
KB slowly exhaled.
Earlier, he had spent several peaceful hours with Wanda.
For a little while, the Accords had disappeared.
Ross had disappeared.
Even the impossible warning from the future had faded into the background.
She had laughed when he deliberately criticized the tea she had made.
She had rested against his shoulder.
Their hands had remained joined longer than either of them acknowledged.
Something was changing between them.
Slowly.
Naturally.
KB preferred it that way.
No destiny forcing them together.
No cosmic decree.
No prophecy.
Just two people growing closer because they wanted to.
And perhaps that was why the message from the future bothered him even more.
His future self had spoken of—
regrets.
Heroes.
Time.
Hope.
KB's eyes narrowed.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
He didn't turn.
"I was wondering how long you would remain downstairs pretending you weren't waiting for Wanda to leave."
The footsteps stopped.
Benjamin's voice came immediately.
"I wasn't pretending."
KB smiled faintly.
"Of course."
Benjamin walked into the gallery.
He had changed out of his usual clothes from Avengers Tower and wore something simpler now.
There was no joking expression on his face.
No teasing.
No relaxed smile.
He walked directly toward KB and stopped several steps away.
"Enough."
KB remained facing the stars.
Benjamin crossed his arms.
"You promised."
"I remember."
"After the meeting."
"Technically—"
"KB."
That one word ended the joke.
KB became silent.
Benjamin stepped closer.
"What happened?"
KB didn't answer.
"What happened last night?"
Still nothing.
Benjamin's expression hardened.
"I felt it."
That finally made KB glance toward him.
Benjamin continued.
"Not clearly."
His voice became quieter.
"But enough."
"When whatever happened reached you, our connection reacted."
Benjamin tapped his own chest.
"I felt your shock."
KB looked away again.
"And fear."
Silence.
Benjamin's eyes narrowed.
"Do you know how often I've felt genuine fear from you?"
KB smiled lightly.
"Tony once tried making tea."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Brother."
The humor disappeared.
Benjamin rarely used that word in such a tone.
KB slowly sighed.
"I know."
"Then tell me."
KB remained silent for several seconds.
The stars reflected faintly in his eyes.
Finally, he asked,
"Brother..."
Benjamin waited.
"Do you see those stars?"
Benjamin frowned.
He looked upward.
"Yes."
KB continued staring into the night.
"From here they seem small."
Benjamin's frown deepened.
"KB."
"Just answer."
Benjamin sighed.
"Yes. They look small."
"But are they?"
Benjamin glanced at him.
"No."
KB nodded.
"Most of them are unimaginably larger than they appear from here."
He extended one hand toward the sky.
"A point of light from this distance may actually be a star capable of swallowing our world thousands of times."
Benjamin watched him carefully.
KB lowered his hand.
"Our problem is the same."
Benjamin's expression slowly changed.
"What problem?"
"The problem we believe we're preparing for."
KB's eyes became distant.
"OBA."
Benjamin became completely still.
The name alone changed the atmosphere.
Neither treated it casually.
They knew too little.
That was becoming increasingly obvious.
Benjamin approached the railing.
"What does that have to do with last night?"
KB didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"That night..."
His voice was unusually quiet.
"...I saw me."
Benjamin stared at him.
A pause.
Then he rolled his eyes.
"Oh, very funny."
KB said nothing.
Benjamin waited for the smile.
Nothing.
No mischievous expression.
No suppressed laughter.
No sign of the usual prank.
Benjamin's amusement slowly vanished.
"You aren't joking."
"No."
Benjamin's posture changed immediately.
"What do you mean you saw yourself?"
KB looked upward again.
"My future self."
Silence.
Even Benjamin needed several seconds to process that.
"You saw..."
"Me."
"In the future?"
"Yes."
"Through time?"
"Yes."
Benjamin stared at him.
"How far?"
"I don't know."
That answer disturbed him.
KB almost always knew.
Benjamin approached another step.
"What did he look like?"
For the first time since the conversation began, KB's calm expression cracked slightly.
His eyes lowered.
"He looked tired."
Benjamin blinked.
"Tired?"
KB nodded slowly.
"Not the kind of tired someone feels after battle."
His voice became heavier.
"It was deeper."
He remembered those eyes.
"Exhausted."
Benjamin watched his brother carefully.
KB continued.
"There were wounds across his body."
"Wounds?"
"Not ordinary ones."
"Who injured him?"
KB's jaw tightened.
"I don't know everything."
Benjamin immediately understood what that meant.
"OBA?"
KB didn't answer directly.
But he didn't need to.
Benjamin looked away.
KB continued.
"He was sitting upon something."
"What?"
"A throne."
Benjamin's expression became strange.
"A throne?"
"Not a throne meant to rule."
KB shook his head.
"It was supporting something."
Then his voice became softer.
"Or perhaps he was supporting it through the throne."
Benjamin waited.
"The Omniverse."
Benjamin's eyes widened.
KB looked at him.
"My future self was using his own power to preserve the entire uncorrupted Omniverse."
Benjamin stopped breathing for half a second.
"The entire..."
"Yes."
"With his own power?"
"Yes."
Benjamin slowly turned toward the stars.
For the first time, KB's comparison became completely clear.
Their current understanding—
their preparation—
their sense of scale—
might indeed be nothing more than looking at a star and thinking it was a tiny light.
Benjamin whispered,
"What level had you reached?"
KB smiled bitterly.
"Far beyond where I stand now."
"How far?"
"Enough that..."
KB paused.
"...the me standing beside you now would appear insignificant by comparison."
Benjamin immediately rejected that.
"Impossible."
KB glanced toward him.
Benjamin continued.
"Your current strength already—"
"I know."
The certainty in KB's tone silenced him.
"My future self was hundreds of times stronger than I am now."
Benjamin's eyes widened slightly.
"And yet..."
KB looked toward his hand.
"...he was injured."
The silence afterward felt much heavier.
Benjamin finally understood exactly why KB had looked shaken.
It wasn't simply because he had seen the future.
It wasn't even because he had seen himself wounded.
It was because of the implication.
If an almost invincible future KB could be injured that badly—
what had injured him?
What kind of battlefield had existed?
And what enemy had required someone of that level simply to hold reality together?
Benjamin's face hardened.
"What did he say?"
KB's expression became complicated.
"He smiled."
Benjamin looked at him.
"Smiled?"
"Yes."
A faint smile appeared on KB's own face.
"Apparently I remain irritatingly calm even after becoming some incomprehensible future existence."
Benjamin sighed.
"That is unfortunately believable."
KB chuckled.
Then his expression became serious again.
"He told me something."
"What?"
KB looked toward the stars.
"To solve the regrets of heroes."
Benjamin frowned.
"Regrets?"
KB nodded.
"And if necessary..."
He paused.
"...not to hesitate to manipulate the River of Time."
Benjamin turned sharply.
"What?"
KB remained calm.
Benjamin stared at him.
"No."
KB said nothing.
"No."
Benjamin stepped closer.
"Absolutely not."
"I expected that response."
"You promised."
"I know."
"We both agreed."
"I know."
"Time isn't something we interfere with because we're dissatisfied with an outcome."
"I know."
"The moment you start treating history as something you can rewrite according to personal preference—"
"Benjamin."
"No, listen."
Benjamin's voice sharpened.
"We have seen what happens when people believe they know better than causality."
"You taught others the same thing."
"You repeatedly refused to undo tragedies even when you possessed the ability to interfere."
"And now you're telling me your future self simply said, 'Manipulate time'?"
KB raised one hand.
"Brother."
Benjamin stopped.
KB's voice became calm.
"I know."
That answer took some of the anger away.
KB turned fully toward him.
"I haven't forgotten anything we agreed upon."
His eyes were serious.
"I promised never to manipulate time without sufficient reason."
Benjamin stared.
"And that promise still stands."
"Then why are we discussing this?"
"Because you are focusing on the warning..."
KB paused.
"...instead of who gave it."
Benjamin became silent.
KB continued.
"This didn't come from someone unfamiliar with consequences."
"It came from me."
His eyes sharpened.
"Future me."
Benjamin's expression slowly changed.
"The same person who made the promise."
"Exactly."
KB stepped beside him.
"If someone else told me to manipulate the River of Time, I would dismiss it."
"If Eternity told me?"
"I would question him."
"If some future cosmic entity told me?"
"I would refuse."
"But that wasn't what happened."
KB placed a hand against his chest.
"I told myself."
Benjamin remained silent.
"And not some version of me only slightly stronger."
KB looked toward the night.
"Brother, his strength was hundreds of times beyond mine."
"He looked almost invincible."
"And yet..."
KB's eyes darkened.
"...he was injured."
Benjamin's expression grew grave again.
KB continued.
"The future me knew what we currently don't."
"He has already walked the road we haven't reached."
"He has already faced whatever is waiting behind OBA."
"And after experiencing all of that..."
KB paused.
"...he looked backward and told me not to hesitate."
Benjamin whispered,
"Which means..."
"We were too cautious somewhere."
Benjamin looked toward him.
"Or we failed someone."
KB nodded.
"Perhaps many."
The breeze moved between them.
Benjamin's mind began racing.
Heroes.
Regrets.
Time.
Hope.
His eyes narrowed.
"What exactly did he mean by solving the regrets of heroes?"
"I don't know."
"You didn't ask?"
"The entire interaction lasted moments."
KB looked mildly offended.
"I didn't exactly receive an appointment schedule."
Benjamin ignored that.
"Did he mention names?"
"No."
"Events?"
"No."
"Deaths?"
"No."
"Then how do you know what he wants?"
"I don't."
Benjamin stared.
KB smiled.
"Yet."
Benjamin groaned.
"That word never comforts me when you say it."
KB chuckled.
Then he became thoughtful.
"He did say something else."
Benjamin waited.
"Give hope to tragic heroes."
The words settled between them.
Benjamin frowned.
"Tragic heroes."
"Yes."
"People whose lives were destroyed?"
"Possibly."
"People who died?"
"Possibly."
"Villains who could have become heroes?"
KB slowly looked toward him.
"Possibly."
Benjamin immediately noticed the look.
"You've already thought of someone."
"I've thought of many."
"Of course you have."
KB walked slowly along the gallery.
Benjamin followed.
KB spoke while looking toward the gardens below.
"There are people in this world whose stories become tragedies because nobody reached them at the right moment."
Benjamin listened.
"People who make one terrible decision."
"People manipulated by forces beyond their understanding."
"People who lose everyone they love."
"People who become monsters because they believe there is no path left back."
KB's eyes became thoughtful.
"And there are heroes whose greatest regrets cannot be solved by strength."
Benjamin immediately understood the danger.
"You're thinking about changing those moments."
"I'm thinking about understanding them."
"That's not the same thing."
"Exactly."
KB turned toward him.
"I won't start rewriting history recklessly."
"Then what will you do?"
"Observe."
"Study."
"Identify points where intervention creates hope without destroying the future."
Benjamin frowned.
"That sounds dangerously close to temporal manipulation."
"It probably is."
"KB."
"Brother, I'm not pretending it isn't dangerous."
That stopped him.
KB's expression was calm but serious.
"That's precisely why I need to be careful."
Benjamin remained unconvinced.
KB continued.
"Think about what my future self said."
"Not 'rewrite everything.'"
"Not 'erase every tragedy.'"
"He said solve regrets."
"And if necessary, manipulate the River of Time."
Benjamin slowly repeated,
"If necessary."
"Exactly."
KB looked upward.
"That condition matters."
Benjamin fell silent.
The stars remained above them.
After a long moment, he asked,
"What do you think caused those injuries?"
KB's expression changed.
"OBA."
Benjamin waited.
KB shook his head.
"No."
Benjamin frowned.
"No?"
"Not simply OBA."
KB returned to the railing.
"That's what frightens me."
Benjamin's eyes sharpened.
"Explain."
KB pointed toward the stars again.
"We believe OBA is the problem."
"The great enemy."
"The source standing opposite everything we understand."
Benjamin nodded.
"Yes."
"But what if we're making the same mistake people make looking at the night sky?"
Benjamin looked upward.
"A star appears small because of distance."
KB nodded.
"OBA may be enormous."
"But perhaps we're only seeing the visible part of the problem."
Benjamin became quiet.
"His forces?"
"Perhaps."
"His origin?"
"Perhaps."
"Something behind him?"
KB didn't answer.
Benjamin's expression hardened.
"Do you think there's something beyond OBA?"
"I don't know."
Again—
that answer.
Benjamin hated hearing it.
KB continued.
"But my future self was almost invincible."
"And somehow he was still pushed into a state where he had to support the Omniverse personally."
"That tells me whatever happens later isn't simply a matter of becoming stronger and defeating OBA."
Benjamin looked toward his cousin.
"No."
KB's gaze became distant.
"It's more complex."
"Far more complex."
Benjamin leaned against the railing beside him.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Eventually Benjamin asked,
"So..."
KB glanced toward him.
"How will you deal with it?"
KB blinked.
Benjamin continued.
"You've seen yourself injured."
"You know our understanding is incomplete."
"Your future self has effectively told you that some of your current principles may need exceptions."
"And you don't even know which heroes he meant."
Benjamin looked toward him.
"So what now?"
Silence.
Then—
KB smiled.
Not the weary expression from moments earlier.
Not the serious face he used while discussing OBA.
His normal smile.
Mischievous.
Calm.
Confident enough to annoy Benjamin.
Benjamin immediately narrowed his eyes.
"Oh no."
KB raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"I know that face."
"What face?"
"The face you make immediately before doing something incredibly complicated while pretending it's simple."
KB looked offended.
"I have no such face."
"You absolutely do."
KB turned toward the night.
"Well..."
He folded his arms behind his back.
"...of course I'll follow what my future self said."
Benjamin stared.
"That's your answer?"
"Yes."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"After everything we just discussed?"
"Correct."
Benjamin rubbed his forehead.
"I sometimes wonder why I bother asking."
KB laughed.
Then he became serious again.
"But following him doesn't mean obeying blindly."
Benjamin lowered his hand.
"I'll understand what he meant."
"I'll identify the regrets."
"I'll study the River of Time."
"And when intervention becomes necessary..."
KB looked toward him.
"...I'll act."
Benjamin stared.
"Carefully?"
KB smiled.
"As carefully as possible."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's the most honest answer."
Benjamin sighed.
That, unfortunately, was true.
KB looked upward again.
"Maybe this is why I saw him now."
Benjamin followed his gaze.
"Because of the Accords?"
"Not specifically."
"Wanda?"
KB paused.
Benjamin noticed immediately.
A smile appeared.
"Interesting."
KB stared at him.
"Don't."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You are about to."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Benjamin smiled.
"Fine."
The amusement disappeared after a moment.
"What do you mean?"
KB thought carefully.
"We're approaching a period where people will begin making choices that define their futures."
"Tony."
"Steve."
"Wanda."
"Bucky."
"Many others."
Benjamin's expression changed at the mention of Bucky.
KB continued.
"Maybe the future me isn't telling me to erase consequences."
"Maybe he's warning me not to mistake tragedy for inevitability."
Benjamin considered that.
KB looked toward the stars.
"There is a difference between protecting destiny..."
"...and allowing people to suffer because we are afraid to touch it."
Benjamin was silent for a long time.
Eventually he said,
"That sounds dangerously persuasive."
KB smiled.
"That's why you keep me around."
"I thought I kept you around because we're family."
"That too."
Benjamin looked toward him.
"If you ever decide to change something major..."
KB nodded before he could finish.
"I'll tell you."
"No."
Benjamin's voice became firm.
"We decide together."
KB looked at him.
Benjamin continued.
"If temporal manipulation becomes necessary, you don't carry that decision alone."
For once, KB didn't joke.
His expression softened.
"Brother..."
"We've been standing together too long for you to suddenly decide the River of Time is your personal responsibility."
KB remained silent.
Then smiled.
"Fine."
Benjamin extended one hand.
"Promise?"
KB stared at it.
Then clasped his forearm.
"Promise."
Benjamin nodded.
The matter was settled.
For now.
A few seconds later, Benjamin asked casually,
"By the way."
KB immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
"Wanda."
KB closed his eyes.
"There it is."
Benjamin smiled.
"I waited."
"For approximately seven minutes."
"That's extraordinary self-control."
KB turned away.
"There is nothing to discuss."
"You held hands."
"That proves nothing."
"She rested on your shoulder."
"People have shoulders."
"Excellent defense."
KB glared at him.
Benjamin laughed.
"You know, for someone capable of discussing the collapse of the Omniverse without blinking, you're remarkably bad at this."
"At what?"
"Romance."
"There is no romance."
Benjamin stared at him.
KB stared back.
Benjamin's smile slowly widened.
KB pointed warningly.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't need to."
Benjamin laughed again.
The atmosphere finally became lighter.
KB shook his head.
But he was smiling too.
After several moments, Benjamin asked,
"Do you like her?"
KB's smile faded slightly.
Not because he was offended.
Because this time Benjamin was genuinely asking.
KB looked toward the stars.
He thought about Wanda's smile.
Her stubbornness.
Her pain.
The way she tried to become better after every mistake.
Her fingers finding his.
The quiet trust forming between them.
He answered simply,
"Yes."
Benjamin looked mildly surprised by the honesty.
KB continued.
"I do."
Benjamin smiled.
"Then don't overthink that too."
KB glanced toward him.
"You're giving me relationship advice?"
"Apparently the future is stranger than either of us imagined."
KB laughed.
Benjamin began walking toward the doors.
Before entering the manor, he stopped.
"KB."
KB looked back.
Benjamin's expression had become serious again.
"Whatever future you saw..."
"...you don't face it alone."
KB said nothing.
Benjamin continued.
"Even if future you somehow forgot that."
KB smiled faintly.
"He didn't."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow.
"How do you know?"
For a fraction of a second—
KB remembered something.
Beyond the River of Time.
The Source Throne.
His exhausted future self.
And somewhere near that impossible throne...
a presence.
A feeling familiar enough that KB had almost overlooked it.
He smiled.
"Just a feeling."
Benjamin stared suspiciously.
But KB refused to elaborate.
"Good night, brother."
Benjamin shook his head.
"Good night."
He disappeared into the manor.
KB remained outside.
Alone again.
He raised his eyes toward the stars.
Small lights.
Great stars.
A simple illusion created by distance.
Perhaps that was the lesson.
Problems looked manageable when viewed from far enough away.
OBA.
The future war.
The Omniverse.
The River of Time.
The regrets of heroes.
From the present, they were only distant lights.
But somewhere ahead—
they were enormous.
KB slowly lifted his hand.
A faint golden glow appeared around his fingers.
Time responded.
Not changing.
Not bending.
Simply acknowledging him.
KB watched it for several seconds.
Then allowed the power to disappear.
"Not yet."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
He remembered his own promise.
He would not manipulate time recklessly.
He would not erase pain simply because he disliked it.
He would not turn history into a toy.
But neither would he worship tragedy as though suffering itself were sacred.
If someone could be saved without destroying what needed to exist—
he would consider it.
If a hero's regret could become hope—
he would understand why.
And if the day came when the River of Time truly needed his hand...
he would no longer hesitate simply because he feared the consequences of acting.
Because somewhere beyond ages—
a version of himself who had already paid those consequences had looked backward and given him permission.
No.
Not permission.
A warning.
KB smiled.
His usual smile returned.
"All right."
He looked toward the endless sky.
"If that's what you want..."
A golden glimmer passed briefly through his eyes.
"...then I'll see what regrets the heroes of this world are carrying."
The stars remained silent.
But somewhere beyond the present—
the River of Time continued to flow.
And for the first time...
KB was no longer looking at it only as something that should never be touched.
He was beginning to wonder whether sometimes—
even time itself needed someone willing to offer it hope.
Morning arrived over Avengers Tower beneath a deceptively peaceful sky.
Inside, peace was becoming increasingly difficult to find.
Copies of the Sokovia Accords remained scattered across tables. Tony had read the document enough times to nearly memorize it. Steve had barely touched his copy since the previous evening. Rhodey believed one hundred and seventeen nations could not simply be ignored, while Sam remained deeply suspicious of placing the Avengers beneath political authority.
Wanda was quieter than usual.
Benjamin observed everyone.
And KB—
KB had made a decision.
He entered the common room wearing his usual relaxed expression.
Tony noticed immediately.
"That face worries me."
KB stopped.
"What face?"
"The one where you've already decided something and the rest of us are about to discover our opinions are decorative."
Natasha glanced over.
"He's not entirely wrong."
KB sighed.
"I'll be leaving for some time."
The room became silent.
Wanda looked at him immediately.
"Leaving?"
"Temporarily."
Tony frowned.
"Define temporarily."
"I can't."
"Wonderful. Excellent start."
Clint leaned forward.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere quiet."
Sam looked around.
"You own an entire manor."
"Not quiet enough."
Tony raised a finger.
"And a café."
"Definitely not quiet enough."
Tony stared.
"What exactly are you planning?"
KB's humor faded.
"Meditation."
Tony waited.
"That's it?"
"Deep meditation."
"Ah. Completely different."
Bruce, however, noticed KB's seriousness.
"This is about your power, isn't it?"
KB nodded.
"My powers are growing."
Vision turned toward him.
"At what rate?"
KB hesitated.
"At a rate even I can no longer comfortably ignore."
That silenced Tony.
KB raised one hand.
A tiny golden flame appeared above his palm.
"My power is essentially inexhaustible. But limitless energy and perfect control are not the same thing."
Bruce understood.
"You're stabilizing yourself rather than increasing your energy."
"Exactly."
KB closed his hand.
The light disappeared.
"The greater my existence becomes, the greater the karma attached to my actions becomes."
Steve frowned.
"And that affects us?"
"It could."
KB looked around the room.
"If I continue growing without properly understanding what is awakening inside me, those close to me may eventually become entangled in consequences that belong to me."
Wanda's expression immediately changed.
"Even your family?"
"Everyone."
His gaze rested on her slightly longer.
"Especially people close to me."
The answer explained far more than KB intended.
Tony became serious.
"So you're leaving because staying could eventually put everyone at risk."
"Partly."
Benjamin watched him.
He knew the other reason.
Future KB.
The River of Time.
The regrets of heroes.
KB continued.
"There are also things I need to investigate."
Natasha raised an eyebrow.
"What things?"
"People."
"Very specific."
"Heroes."
Steve looked toward him.
"What about them?"
KB turned toward the windows.
"Their regrets."
That made Benjamin's eyes sharpen.
"People who failed someone."
"People who lost the person they loved."
"People who were given power but never the chance to use it properly."
"People whose stories ended in tragedy."
KB became thoughtful.
"I want to understand whether all tragedy must truly remain tragedy."
Steve stared at him.
KB suddenly smiled.
"And speaking of regrets..."
His gaze landed on Steve.
Steve immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
"Captain, before I leave, there's something I should tell you."
Tony looked between them.
"Why do I feel excluded already?"
KB ignored him.
"How is Peggy?"
Steve's entire expression changed.
The question alone was enough.
"She's doing well."
A softness entered his voice.
"Much better than before."
KB smiled.
That answer carried considerable meaning.
Peggy Carter should have been approaching the final stage of her life.
Age had taken its toll.
Her memory had deteriorated.
Her body had weakened.
Illness had gradually stolen the strength from the woman who had once helped build S.H.I.E.L.D.
KB had refused to accept that her remaining years needed to be filled with suffering.
Months earlier, with Steve's permission and Peggy's own clear consent during one of her lucid periods, he had used the Nanotech Healer to repair the accumulated cellular damage throughout her body.
He hadn't made her young again.
KB had considered that disrespectful unless Peggy herself chose such a thing.
Instead, he had cured the diseases ravaging her aging body, restored damaged neurological pathways and stabilized her memory.
Peggy remained elderly.
But she was herself again.
Alert.
Sharp.
Stubborn.
Steve had almost cried the first morning Peggy recognized him without confusion.
KB smiled.
"Good."
Steve looked toward him.
"I never properly thanked you."
"You did."
"Not enough."
"You tried approximately eleven times."
Tony looked between them.
"Wait. That's why Carter's health suddenly improved?"
Steve glanced at him.
"KB treated her."
Tony turned toward KB.
"You cured age-related neurodegeneration?"
"Among other things."
Bruce's eyes widened.
"And you never published that?"
"I published the medical principles behind parts of it. Not everything."
"Why?"
"Because making humanity healthier and giving billionaires a route toward purchased immortality are two very different projects."
Tony slowly lowered his raised hand.
"Okay. Annoyingly responsible answer."
Steve smiled faintly.
KB then said,
"But that's not actually what I wanted to tell you."
Steve's expression became curious again.
KB raised his hand.
A holographic molecular structure appeared.
Bruce stood almost immediately.
Tony's eyes narrowed.
"What is that?"
"A modified serum."
Steve became still.
"What kind?"
KB looked directly at him.
"Super-Soldier."
The room went silent.
Steve stared.
Tony stood.
"You made another Super-Soldier Serum?"
"No."
KB rotated the molecular model.
"I made something based on the principle."
Bruce approached.
"The original Erskine formula?"
"Partly. Erskine's research, surviving serum samples, modern genetic science, Nanotech Healer architecture and several modifications of my own."
Steve looked increasingly uneasy.
"KB..."
"I know."
KB dismissed the hologram.
"I have no intention of creating armies."
His expression became serious.
"That's precisely why I redesigned it."
"The original serum didn't simply enhance muscle."
"It amplified the body's existing traits and placed immense stress on every biological system."
KB looked toward Steve.
"Erskine understood something most people who tried to reproduce his work didn't."
"The serum was never simply chemistry."
Steve remembered the words immediately.
Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.
KB nodded as though reading his expression.
"My version approaches the problem differently."
Bruce asked,
"Nanotechnology?"
"Yes."
"The Nanotech Healer continuously monitors cellular response during transformation. It prevents organ collapse, repairs genetic instability, regulates metabolic acceleration and rejects several pathways associated with uncontrolled mutation."
Tony folded his arms.
"So Super-Soldier Serum with an installation wizard."
KB stared at him.
"In the crudest possible description."
"You're welcome."
Steve asked quietly,
"Why make it?"
KB looked at him.
"Because eventually humanity will face wars where ordinary soldiers are simply too fragile."
His eyes became distant.
"But I refuse to solve that by mass-producing weapons disguised as people."
"So the serum remains locked."
Steve nodded slowly.
Then KB smiled.
"But while developing it, I discovered something interesting."
"What?"
KB looked directly at Steve.
"Peggy could survive it."
Steve froze.
Nobody spoke.
"KB..."
"I'm not saying I'll give it to her."
Steve continued staring.
"I'm saying that because her body has already been stabilized by the Nanotech Healer, if Peggy ever genuinely chose enhancement..."
KB paused.
"...my serum could potentially give her abilities comparable to yours."
Steve looked as though his mind had stopped.
Tony blinked.
Sam whispered,
"Okay."
Natasha's lips slowly curved upward.
KB continued before Steve could misunderstand.
"The choice would be hers."
"Entirely hers."
"I will not turn Peggy into a super-soldier because you miss fighting beside her."
Steve immediately shook his head.
"I wouldn't ask that."
"I know."
Then KB's smile became mysterious.
"But there's another reason I thought you'd appreciate knowing."
Steve frowned.
"What?"
KB looked somewhere beyond the room.
"Because somewhere in creation..."
His eyes shimmered faintly.
"...Peggy already did become one."
Steve stared.
"What?"
"In another timeline, circumstances unfolded differently."
KB smiled.
"Peggy Carter received the serum."
The room became completely silent.
Steve took one step forward.
"Peggy became..."
"A super-soldier."
KB nodded.
"From what I can perceive, she carries power very similar to yours."
Steve's mouth slowly opened.
No words emerged.
Then—
he laughed.
Not Captain America's restrained smile.
Not the polite expression Steve usually wore.
A genuine, almost boyish laugh.
"Peggy?"
KB nodded.
"Peggy."
Steve shook his head in disbelief.
"Of course she did."
Sam grinned.
"I don't think I've ever seen him this happy."
Tony pointed toward Steve.
"Someone record this. Rogers has discovered joy."
Steve ignored him completely.
"Was she good?"
KB raised an eyebrow.
"You need to ask?"
Steve laughed again.
"No."
He looked down.
"Of course not."
Then something happened.
KB's eyes narrowed.
A thread appeared.
Invisible to everyone else.
It flowed from Steve.
Warm.
Pure.
Not magical energy.
Not conventional life force.
Faith.
Hope.
Gratitude.
The emotion wasn't worship.
Steve wasn't placing KB upon some divine pedestal.
He simply believed, for that moment, that creation was larger and kinder than he had previously imagined.
That Peggy's lost possibilities weren't completely lost.
Somewhere—
she had flown.
She had fought.
She had carried the shield.
The invisible force entered KB.
His eyes widened slightly.
Future KB's words returned immediately.
Solve the regrets of heroes.
Give hope to tragic heroes.
KB finally understood another layer.
It wasn't necessarily about rewriting the past.
Perhaps his future self had never intended him to race through history changing every death.
The possibilities themselves mattered.
Hope generated something.
Faith.
And faith created strength.
More importantly—
it healed something power alone couldn't reach.
Steve's regret hadn't disappeared.
His Peggy remained his Peggy.
His lost dance remained lost.
But knowing that somewhere another Peggy had received the opportunity she deserved had changed something inside him.
KB's expression became thoughtful.
So this is what you were showing me.
There were safer ways to alter destiny than brutally rewriting it.
Sometimes the River of Time didn't need to be changed.
Sometimes it only needed to be opened.
And perhaps, when the circumstances were right...
a possibility could even be brought closer.
KB looked briefly at the serum data.
Their Peggy.
Cured.
Healthy despite her age.
And potentially compatible.
For the first time, a fascinating possibility entered his mind.
Not an obligation.
Not something he would force.
A choice.
Hope.
Benjamin noticed the change in his expression.
Their eyes met.
You found something.
KB answered telepathically.
A path.
Benjamin frowned.
A safe one?
KB smiled slightly.
Safer.
That's not what I asked.
KB broke eye contact before Benjamin could continue.
"One more thing."
KB stepped away.
Golden light gathered beside him.
Within seconds—
another KB appeared.
Silence.
Tony looked at one KB.
Then the other.
Then back again.
"No."
Clone KB raised an eyebrow.
"No what?"
"No."
Sam stood.
"Wait."
Bruce stared.
Clint almost dropped his drink.
Wanda's eyes widened.
Benjamin alone appeared completely unsurprised.
Tony pointed between them.
"Since when?"
"A while."
"How powerful is the copy?"
KB answered casually,
"Approximately fifty percent of my current strength."
Nobody spoke.
Tony slowly turned toward Benjamin.
"You knew?"
Benjamin shrugged.
"I know many things."
"I hate this family."
Clone KB smiled.
"You'll survive."
Wanda studied both versions carefully.
Then pointed toward the original.
"That one."
Tony looked at her.
"How do you know?"
Wanda hesitated.
"I just do."
KB smiled.
His clone placed a hand over his chest.
"I'm wounded."
"No, you're not."
"Emotionally."
Tony pointed.
"Unfortunately, that's definitely him."
KB chuckled.
"The clone stays with you."
Steve frowned.
"So you're not completely disappearing."
"No."
"My clone possesses my memories, personality and fifty percent of my current power."
Tony sighed.
"Great. Even when you leave, you don't leave."
"Exactly."
Soon, KB stood near the exit.
He exchanged brief words with everyone.
Steve stopped before him.
"Thank you."
"For Peggy?"
"For both Peggys."
KB smiled.
"Visit ours."
Steve nodded.
"I will."
"And if she ever asks about the serum..."
KB became serious.
"...let her ask me herself."
Steve understood.
"Her choice."
"Always."
Then Wanda approached.
Her hesitation made KB's expression soften.
"Is leaving really necessary?"
"Yes."
Wanda lowered her eyes.
"My powers are growing at an unimaginable speed."
KB continued quietly.
"If I don't learn to properly contain and understand them, eventually everyone around me could become affected by my karma."
Wanda looked up again.
"So you're leaving to protect us."
"Among other things."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
She sighed.
"You keep saying that."
"I know."
Her fingers slowly found his.
"Then come back."
KB squeezed them gently.
"I will."
For a moment neither moved.
Then KB released her hand.
"Goodbye."
Golden light surrounded him.
And he disappeared.
High above New York, reality opened.
The Void waited.
Before KB could enter—
Benjamin appeared.
KB looked sideways.
"I already said goodbye."
Benjamin crossed his arms.
"You forgot something."
"What?"
"The Sokovia Accords."
KB smiled mischievously.
"Oh."
Benjamin narrowed his eyes.
"You shifted the entire problem onto me."
"Yes."
"You're admitting it?"
"I believe in you."
"That somehow makes it worse."
KB laughed.
"You won't disappoint me."
Then his expression became serious.
"Brother..."
Benjamin stopped joking.
"I have to go."
The Void opened wider.
Beyond it flowed the faint radiance of the River of Time.
"I need to explore the powers still sleeping within me."
"And I need to understand what Future Me meant before the problems ahead become unavoidable."
"OBA?"
"Not only OBA anymore."
Benjamin's expression darkened.
KB placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Find the right way to deal with Tony and Steve."
"Don't force them."
"Make them understand each other."
Benjamin sighed.
"You're asking me to solve a war before it starts."
"That's why I'm asking you."
"And if it becomes too much?"
"My clone remains here."
KB smiled.
"He has fifty percent of my power."
Benjamin stared.
"You're using a cosmic duplicate as conflict mediation."
"When you say it like that, it sounds excessive."
"It is excessive."
KB laughed.
Then looked toward the Void.
"I need to secure our future."
Benjamin's expression softened.
"Come back."
"I will."
"Everyone keeps saying that to you today."
"I must be popular."
Benjamin rolled his eyes.
KB stepped forward.
"Protect them."
Benjamin understood.
Tony.
Steve.
Natasha.
Wanda.
The Avengers.
Their family.
"I will."
KB smiled.
"I know."
Then he disappeared into the Void.
He emerged upon the shore of the River of Time.
No ordinary stars existed here.
Instead, histories flowed.
Worlds.
Possibilities.
Lives.
Heroes.
Failures.
Triumphs.
Regrets.
KB sat cross-legged.
The image of Steve's happiness remained with him.
Then he remembered their Peggy.
An elderly woman whose illnesses had been cured.
A woman who might, if she ever chose, still possess another path.
KB smiled.
Perhaps Future KB's message was never simply—
Change time.
Perhaps it was—
Don't confuse suffering with necessity.
Some history should remain untouched.
Some wounds existed because choices mattered.
But when a tragedy served no greater purpose...
when a hero could be given hope without destroying causality...
perhaps refusing to act wasn't wisdom.
Perhaps it was fear disguised as restraint.
Golden power slowly surrounded KB.
His consciousness descended deeper.
Unawakened aspects of his existence stirred.
The River reacted.
But he didn't touch it.
Not yet.
"Show me."
Countless streams illuminated.
"Show me the regrets."
Steve Rogers.
Peggy Carter.
And beyond them—
thousands.
Millions.
Heroes whose stories had ended too early.
People who had fallen when one different choice might have saved them.
Villains who had once stood one hand away from redemption.
KB closed his eyes.
His inexhaustible power began stabilizing around him.
And somewhere beyond incomprehensible ages, perhaps his wounded future self was smiling.
KB's own smile appeared.
"I think I'm beginning to understand you."
The River of Time flowed before him.
And this time—
KB wasn't merely watching history.
He was learning when hope itself could become part of it.