Thor, Rocket, and an intact Mjolnir appeared before everyone at once.

The moment they were back in the present, Thor tossed the hammer to Steve. The motion looked clean enough, but Thor's face was all reluctance, and the muttering started immediately, things like "You must treat it well" and "Whatever you do, don't break it."

Steve's mouth twitched. It took a solid tug-of-war before the hammer finally came free. Turning around, Steve found a whole circle of people pointedly looking elsewhere, every face wearing the same long-suffering expression.

Decisively choosing to skip past the hammer incident, Tony asked, "How'd it go? Smoothly?"

"Uh — if you don't count me almost getting caught by the Asgardian guards and turned into raccoon jerky while I was pulling the Aether out of that chick... pretty smoothly."

Rocket threw both hands out. The unbroken torrent of words left everyone standing around with their minds completely blank.

Tony wanted nothing more than to grab Rocket by the collar and demand a full explanation of what, exactly, he had done on Asgard to nearly end up as raccoon jerky.

"If Mother hadn't found me quite so fast... pretty smoothly." Thor considered for a moment and answered in full earnest.

"..." Silence blanketed the room.

After a long pause, Tony swept a glance around and was the first to break it, steering the conversation elsewhere. "Alright. Let's talk about the Soul Stone."

The memory of that devastating scene from the original timeline settled over the room like a weight. The noise dropped away. Tension and dread moved through the crowd in a slow, quiet wave.

The next second, Clint and Wanda stepped forward, both neatly dressed in Quantum Suits. A smile sat on Clint's face, but anyone looking could tell it wasn't real.

"Don't worry. I'll bring Wanda back to you in one piece."

Natasha looked at the two of them, worry plain in the glance. Natasha knew the partner best; if anything went wrong, Clint would throw everything aside to protect Wanda and sacrifice himself, exactly like that struggle between them in the movie.

"Clint..."

Natasha couldn't hold back. Stepping forward, Natasha pulled Clint into a deep hug, the slender frame seeming unusually fragile in that moment. Clint could actually feel the faint trembling.

"Promise me you'll come back safe. Don't forget — Laura and the kids are still at home waiting for you."

Hearing about the wife and children, the anxious tangle in Clint's chest finally loosened a little. A nod, and then both arms wrapped tight around Natasha in return.

Clint didn't say flag-raising things like "If something happens, please look after them" or "I swear I'll come back." Lines like that would only make the teammates worry more.

Just a moment of quiet. Then: "I know."

Breaking the warm embrace, Clint and Wanda exchanged a look. Clint reached down and scooped up the small lamb from the ground, a lamb raised by hand ever since watching the movie, kept alive for exactly this day.

The lamb even had a name: Sophia.

Clint stroked the fluffy little head with visible reluctance, then pressed the wrist control. The two of them vanished, and every heart in the room lurched straight into every throat.

"They'll come back. Right?"

Natasha stared at the empty spot where they'd been standing and murmured the question, face perfectly composed. But Steve could see clearly, the fist hanging at Natasha's side, clenched white-knuckle tight.

"They will, Nat."

...

Vormir was a strikingly beautiful planet. Gravel stretched in every direction, thin streams cut across the land, and mountains rose in jagged peaks against the sky. Were it not for the dense overcast swallowing the only source of light, a sun-bright Vormir would have been breathtaking.

The ship set down on the plains. Clint and Wanda looked toward the single great mountain rising from the surface and walked toward it together.

The temperature down on the flats was almost pleasant, like a mild spring day. But the higher they climbed, the colder the air became. Before long, tiny crystalline snowflakes began drifting down, and Wanda couldn't hold back a shiver.

"Hold onto it. It's actually pretty warm."

Clint pulled the lamb from the arms and passed it over. The moment Wanda felt the animal's warmth against the chest, the chill eased considerably.

"Phew—"

Wanda exhaled slowly. Just as a few words were forming, something to cut through the heavy atmosphere, a voice from directly behind snapped every nerve alert.

"Welcome."

"Clint, son of Edith."

"Wanda, daughter of Maximoff."

Wanda tightened one arm around the lamb, frowned, and looked over. A swirl of scarlet energy began turning in the open palm.

Clint drew an arrow and nocked it in one motion, the tip swinging instantly to the speaker.

Both of them knew exactly who was standing there in that hooded, skulking silhouette, Steve Rogers's "old friend." Red Skull.

Red Skull held the silence, cultivating an air of mystery, waiting for them to ask the next question so the routine could continue on schedule.

Wanda cooperated. "And who are you?"

Red Skull was satisfied. A slow step forward. The raspy voice followed.

"I am the guide who leads you all to the Soul Stone."

As the words landed, Red Skull stepped squarely into the light. That crimson, twisted face came into full view before Clint and Wanda, and the corners of Red Skull's mouth pulled into an evil smile.

Friends of an "old friend", they must recognize me. Let me see the terror on their faces. Red Skull, returned from the dead.

Red Skull thought this with considerable satisfaction. What followed was an uncomfortable silence.

Wanda was still rummaging through memory trying to locate the correct line. Clint, for the part, simply could not figure out what Red Skull was going for with all this swaggering theatrics.

"Alright, then just tell us where it is and we'll go ourselves," Wanda finally recovered the line.

The moment Wanda spoke, Red Skull's attention finally landed on the swirling mass of Chaos Magic churning in that open palm. The expression went visibly still for one full beat. Every impulse to put on a performance evaporated entirely.

Wait, why is there a girl with Chaos Magic here? That's Chaos Magic. At its peak, it rivals the Reality Stone.

"..."

Red Skull turned and walked away without another word. Wanda and Clint hurried along behind.

Leading them to the cliff's edge, Red Skull couldn't even be bothered with the usual long speech. One flat, offhand line, "Sacrifice what you love most, and the stone is yours", then stepped aside and waited to see what would happen next.

The vigil on this rock had gone on for far too long. Countless people had arrived seeking the Soul Stone over the years, and Red Skull had never once been able to predict which way they'd fall. Some came to blows. Some scrambled past each other in a race. Some took one look and turned around.

Which kind would these two be? Genuinely curious.

What Red Skull could never have anticipated was that the two people under observation had already set their sights squarely on Red Skull.

"Are you sure you want to do this? The face is just, it's too ugly. I think I won't be able to eat for a solid month after we get back."

Clint flicked a glance at Red Skull standing a short distance away, muttering the complaint low and full of distaste, one hand still absently moving through the lamb's wool.

Wanda spread both hands. "What else? You want me to hypnotize this sheep into thinking Red Skull is its true love?"

And then use those two tiny horns, not even as long as a finger, to ram Red Skull off the cliff?

Come on.

A few deep breaths. Clint finally agreed to the plan, face scrunched in a grimace.

Before Wanda could move, Clint raised a solemn finger. "Promise me this stays buried. You take it to the grave. Otherwise I'm telling Pietro every dangerous thing you did while he was gone."

Wanda gritted her teeth and made the move without another word, angling the body to block Red Skull's line of sight in the same motion.

You play dirty.

Scarlet energy wrapped around Clint's head instantly, strange tendrils spiraling in the air, and looking closely, the eyes had gone an unnatural, glowing crimson.

Clint's brow creased hard. The expression twisted into something pained. It took Wanda real effort to push through the resistance and hold the working in place.

Perhaps the wait was growing too long. Red Skull walked over, impatient. Just then the hypnosis locked in. Wanda pulled back quickly and went perfectly neutral, like nothing had happened at all.

"Have you decided? Do you proceed, or do you walk away?"

Wanda clasped both hands behind the back. An enigmatic smile crossed that pretty face, unhurried and certain.

"Of course."

"We choose to proceed."

➤ Next: Morag, 2014

Chapter 112 - Morag, 2014

A minute later, Wanda appeared in everyone's sight, one arm cradling the goat, the other supporting Clint, who looked thoroughly exhausted.

Natasha hurried forward the moment she saw them. The instant Natasha took Clint over, Clint buried their head firmly against Natasha's shoulder and refused to lift it no matter what.

The state Clint was in shook Natasha. The relief of seeing them both return safe and sound dissolved completely. Natasha asked in a voice that couldn't quite hold steady:

"Wanda, what happened over there? How did Clint end up like this?"

Under Natasha's worried gaze, Wanda looked away guiltily, eyes darting.

Everything that had happened on Vormir was hard enough to put into words on its own, and Clint was frantically waving both hands behind their back, which wasn't helping. Wanda forced a strained smile and chose her words carefully.

"Uh... nothing happened. Everything went smoothly. Anyway, cough... anyway, we got the Soul Stone."

It was just that the stone itself hadn't seemed very willing about it.

Wanda held up her right hand, the orange gem hovering over it.

Seeing that neither Wanda nor Clint had any intention of elaborating, Natasha let go of the idea of pressing further.

Tony and the others, though, were quick to connect the dots back to the idea Yang Luoluo had floated at the meeting a few days ago. The looks they cast toward Clint carried a distinct edge of amusement, even the straight-laced Steve couldn't quite suppress a mixture of sympathy and relief.

Thank goodness Steve's mission had been to retrieve Loki's scepter. Otherwise, that particular misfortune might have landed on Steve instead.

Still buried against Natasha's shoulder, Clint let out a quiet breath. Good thing Clint had specifically told Wanda to keep her mouth shut about the whole thing. If these people ever found out what actually went down on Vormir, they'd never let Clint hear the end of it, not for the rest of Clint's life.

What Clint never anticipated, however, was that in the dead of night some time after the final battle, Wanda would be jolted awake by a dream about that very scene and lose control of the chaos magic, dragging every single person at the compound into her memories.

The result was that Clint, returning to the compound after two days at home, nearly died of shame on the spot.

But that was a problem for the future. Right now, Clint was still somewhere between grief, indignance, and relief, looking, to outside eyes, exactly like a gloomy little mushroom that had retreated into itself.

"Ahem." Seeing everyone watching Clint with barely concealed delight, clearly about thirty seconds away from asking what happened on Vormir, Steve stepped in quickly and headed off anything that might undermine team unity.

"There's only one stone left — the Power Stone." A reminder, nothing more.

Tony's expression sharpened. A quick scan of the room confirmed it: Nebula and James Rhodes weren't there. The others followed Tony's glance and remembered the plan.

"I've already modified Nebula's memories. Now we need to put on one final act in front of Nebula."

It had become clear through the process of retrieving each stone that some unseen force was quietly nudging any deviation back onto the original track,

The parallel universe's Loki had still escaped. Steve had run into another version of themselves. Rocket had been spotted by guards again during the extraction of the Aether.

Aside from the fact that no one had died on Vormir, almost everything had unfolded exactly as it had in the movie.

To prevent unilateral changes from setting off butterfly effects they couldn't contain, the team sent to retrieve the Power Stone remained the same: Nebula and James Rhodes.

The complication was that Nebula would experience memory entanglement with a past version of themselves. So Tony had simply altered Nebula's memories outright, burying anything that could work against them.

Now all that remained was one last performance.

The moment Tony finished speaking, the group moved fast. Those who had already retrieved stones went pale on cue, faces drained, lips bloodless, looking so hollowed out they seemed ready to drop. The others fished rolls of gauze from their pockets and wound them around arms, legs, shoulders, wherever it looked convincing.

By the time they were done, the Avengers had gone from perfectly alive and energized to barely hanging on, as though they'd genuinely taken devastating hits during Infinity War.

They'd barely finished when Nebula and James Rhodes walked in at a brisk clip. At the sight of everyone in that state, Nebula's brow drew tight, eyes full of concern.

"We'll bring the Power Stone back," Nebula said. "Count on it."

Rhodes nodded from the side. Unlike Nebula, Rhodes knew the whole plan. The current Nebula believed only that the group had been badly wounded in Infinity War, nothing more.

"Good." Tony didn't hold back on the trust. "This is our last hope. I believe in you." The pale face and the occasional cough did their job, Nebula's expression tightened another notch.

They didn't linger. The next second, Nebula and Rhodes were gone.

Tony dropped the act immediately. The pallor vanished. Tony led the group, now completely back to normal, out of the compound interior, leaving nothing behind but a single time machine sitting in the empty space.

The Avengers waiting outside converged on them at once, concern written plainly across every face.

"Everything go smoothly?"

"Smoothly." Tony placed the gauntlet into Carol Danvers's arms. Five stones of different colors were already set into it. Only the final purple Power Stone was missing.

"Now it's up to them."

Tony looked back toward the compound, expression unreadable.

...

An unknown planet.

The tall Titan moved with a presence that silenced everything around him, methodically wiping a double-bladed sword as he walked. The two figures nearby turned at the sound of his approach and bowed their heads.

"Ronan has found the Power Stone. I'm sending you to his ship."

"He won't be pleased," the green-skinned Gamora said.

The Titan gave a quiet, contemptuous sound and delivered a line soaked in casual menace. "If he resists, kill him."

The blue-skinned Nebula glanced sideways at Gamora, then stepped forward and dropped to one knee, head bowed, presenting loyalty without hesitation, voice edged with urgency.

"We won't fail you, Father." Gamora glanced over. Nebula lifted their head, voice steady and sincere: "I swear."

"You will be proud of us..."

Nebula was still rising when the mechanical components near the eye crackled with a burst of electricity. Nebula collapsed to the ground in agony as fragmented footage projected outward from the eye, playing in front of everyone present.

"Do we just wait here for Quill to show up?"

"Yeah. Stay sharp — we're not the only ones hunting for the stone in 2014."

"..."

Nebula couldn't hold out any longer. A sharp slam of one hand against the eye, and the projection cut out. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Thanos was already moving toward them. Gamora stepped in front of Nebula without hesitation, putting herself between them, voice tight.

"Father, Nebula's neural network was damaged in battle—"

Thanos raised a hand. Gamora stopped. Thanos studied Nebula on the ground for a long moment, something in his eyes too layered for Gamora to read. Then he turned and boarded the ship.

"...Bring Nebula aboard."

...

"You betrayed Father!"

The past Nebula hurled the captured Nebula down hard. If Gamora hadn't grabbed the past Nebula's arm in time, those two long blades would already have been buried in Nebula's body.

"Father?" Flat on the ground, facing a situation that was clearly not in her favor, she didn't flinch. Instead, the word came back with a blade's edge of contempt.

"Does a butcher deserve to be called Father?"

The past Nebula's fury spiked. The blades came up. Gamora caught the motion with one raised hand and glanced down at Nebula on the ground, expression cool.

"Father still has a use for Nebula."

Then Thanos arrived, unhurried, each footfall landing like something felt rather than heard. The sound hit the grounded Nebula like a fist to the chest. Nebula's eyes went hard and vicious.

This was the madman who had taken Nebula's sister. Who had taken Nebula's friends. Under any other circumstances, Nebula would have killed him with their own hands right here and now.

Thanos didn't spare a glance for the undisguised murder in Nebula's stare. To him, Nebula at this moment was an inconsequential ant, disposable, barely worth noting. What held a flicker of his interest were the friends who had managed to make Nebula turn against him.

Thanos turned to face the past Nebula, who was grinding their teeth.

"I need you to do something."

➤ Next: Imminent Clash