Under the expectant gazes of heroes from both universes, Cloud once again deployed his utterly unreasonable Dimensional Sovereign powers.
"Dimensional Law Mudslinging • Transit Station Creation Technique!"
Rather than trying to repair the rifts or separate the universes, he went in the completely opposite direction.
Using his power—which transcended all existence—as both "glue" and "stabilizer," he wrapped up that chaotic sea of spatial fractures and, like kneading dough, shaped it into an entirely new, independent subspace.
This peculiar subspace belonged to neither Marvel nor DC. It hung suspended between the two universes like a "transit station"—or perhaps "customs checkpoint."
From now on, residents of both universes could enter this place through specific "doors." It maintained the connection between worlds while providing perfect buffering and isolation.
All the chaotic laws were now safely contained within this subspace.
"Done." Cloud dusted off his hands like an ordinary plumber who'd just fixed a pipe.
And the newly born world before them—a realm of infinite possibility constructed from pure law—once again left every hero in stunned silence at the extent of Cloud's power.
"Alright, kitchen's cleaned up." Cloud smiled at them. "Now then—let's discuss who's going to manage this 'new kitchen.'"
With that, he invited representatives from both universes—Iron Man Tony, Captain America Steve, Batman Bruce, Superman Clark, Wonder Woman Diana, and Director Fury—into the newly created Transit Station.
The interior was quite peculiar: the floor was checkered black and white like a chessboard, while the sky was split in half—one side flickering with technological blue light, the other suffused with mythological golden radiance.
Cloud casually conjured a massive round table and several chairs, like a boss about to hold a subsidiary's board meeting, and waved everyone to their seats.
"From today forward, this place will be called 'The Transit Station.' We will establish a new organization here." He cleared his throat and announced with ceremonial gravity:
"I propose the founding of—the Multiversal Guardian Council!"
"The Council's purpose: to jointly address any cross-server issues that may arise in the future. For example, if someone's supervillain accidentally wanders into the other universe and causes trouble, or if someone's cosmic deity decides to visit Earth for some 'population control.' We sit down, have tea, talk it out. If we can solve it with words, let's not resort to fists."
"As the founder, I'll reluctantly take on the role of 'Supreme Consultant'—a position with zero actual authority. Don't bother me unless there's nothing going on, and especially don't bother me if something is going on."
He pointed at Tony and Bruce. "You two—one's rich, one's richer; one plays with tech, one plays mind games. You'll be the Co-Directors of the 'Technical and Financial Support Division.'"
He looked at Steve and Clark. "You two—one represents human spirit, the other represents our alien friends. Great images, great temperaments. You'll be the Co-Directors of the 'External Communications and Public Relations Division.'"
Finally, his gaze fell on Diana. "As for you, Princess Diana—your Amazons know better than anyone how to deal with women. The Council's 'Personnel and Logistics Division' is yours. Oh, and you're also in charge of supervising any misbehaving male members."
And so, a serious meeting concerning the fates of two entire universes was hastily concluded under Cloud's brilliantly lazy pronouncements.
A great council—formed from the mightiest heroes of two universes, dedicated to maintaining peace and stability across the multiverse—was officially established that day.
As for its founder and Supreme Consultant, Mr. Cloud? After delivering his slacker-spirited inaugural address, the first thing he did was yawn, tear open a spatial rift, and go home to sleep.
He left behind a group of bewildered, newly minted "employees" from different universes, all staring at each other in disbelief.
...
When the sign for the "Multiversal Guardian Council" was officially hung in that Transit Station Cloud had casually conjured into existence, he finally achieved his dream of becoming a hands-off boss.
He had successfully dumped all the tedious cross-server cleanup work onto those energetic, responsibility-driven superheroes.
He himself returned to the top floor of Stark Tower, planning to enjoy his final days of leisure before heading back to the KOF world.
However, he soon discovered he'd been far too naive.
The cosmic-level crisis was resolved, yes. But an ultimate problem even more troublesome than the Whisperer, more terrifying than the Celestials, now loomed before him:
The Harem Question.
He was going home. So what would become of Natasha, Wanda, Diana, Harley... these stunning beauties with whom he'd formed deep, complicated bonds during this cross-server adventure?
The moment Cloud announced "I'm heading home," the atmosphere on Stark Tower's top floor became extraordinarily heavy.
The air filled with a tension more terrifying than any battlefield—the ultimate pressure of impending separation.
...
The first to find him was Natasha.
Late at night, Cloud stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing down at the bustling, peaceful New York skyline that had been restored to normalcy.
Natasha wore her favorite black bodysuit as she silently approached from behind and wrapped her arms around him. Her face pressed against his broad back, feeling that familiar heartbeat.
"Leaving soon?" Her voice was soft, carrying an almost imperceptible tremor.
"Mm." Cloud nodded.
"Going back... will you come back?"
"Maybe. Depends on my mood." It was a very "scumbag" answer—but also a very "Cloud" answer.
Natasha fell silent. After a long moment, her embrace tightened.