"Imagine the Celestials' wrath when they discover that Earth destroyed one of their own," Fury's words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
The conference room fell into profound silence. Had Johnny Blaze not established the terrifying scope of Celestial power, someone might have boldly declared they would fight to the bitter end. Now, such bravado seemed not just foolish but suicidal.
Observing their sobering expressions, Fury mentally commended Johnny's contribution. The Ghost Rider's vivid description of Celestial might had made the threat tangible and believable in ways Fury's own warnings could not have achieved.
"We don't know how many millennia remain before the Celestial embryo reaches maturity," Fury continued, his voice measured. "If we eliminate it now and they discover our actions, Earth faces their collective vengeance."
He paused for effect. "But if we induce dormancy—effectively putting the embryo into stasis—and use that borrowed time to develop our defenses and capabilities, we stand a chance."
Fury's expression projected sincerity, though few present were naive enough to believe his motivations were so transparent.
After a contemplative silence, Tony addressed the implications that bothered him most. "What's Lockhart's position on this, Fury?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Based on what I know of him, containment rather than destruction should align with his philosophy."
His questions became more pointed. "When you talk about 'buying time,' are you certain the Celestial embryo isn't approaching birth imminently? And won't it become progressively more difficult to neutralize as it develops?"
Tony leaned forward, his engineering mind dissecting the problem. "Furthermore, if we intervene now, could we inadvertently trigger premature awakening and unleash catastrophe?"
Fury's expression betrayed a flash of annoyance at Tony's rapid-fire interrogation. Before he could formulate a response, the conference room door swung open with decisive force.
THUD!
"Allow me to address your concerns, Tony," boomed a commanding voice as Thor strode in, crimson cape billowing dramatically behind him. Mjölnir hung casually at his side, yet its presence made the air feel charged with potential energy.
"Thor!" Several Avengers exclaimed in unison, surprised by his timely arrival—though consideration of Fury's earlier statements made his appearance less coincidental.
"Tony," Thor began, his voice resonating with Asgardian authority, "your primary concern appears to be whether the Celestial embryo might suddenly awaken or accelerate toward birth."
He stood tall, every inch the prince of Asgard. "I've personally researched this matter extensively in Asgard's Great Library, where our records explicitly document the gestation process of cosmic entities. Not every Celestial successfully emerges—many perish within their planetary incubators."
Thor gestured expansively. "The gestation period for a Celestial typically spans tens of thousands of years. While I cannot precisely determine how long Earth's embryo has developed, I can share that Celestial birth is invariably preceded by planetary-scale warning signs."
"Massive tectonic disruptions, spontaneous emergence of anomalous creatures, atmospheric phenomena beyond normal parameters—Earth presently exhibits none of these harbingers."
His confident delivery made even the skeptics among them listen attentively. "This suggests we have at minimum several centuries before facing an imminent birth event."
Thor's eyes swept the room. "If we can induce dormancy in the Celestial embryo, we grant Earth hundreds of years of preparation time. Given humanity's accelerating technological advancement, this interval should prove sufficient to achieve interstellar capability and establish extra-planetary colonies."
Tony nodded slightly, his expression thoughtful. The logic was sound—if Earth faced inevitable destruction in the distant future, developing technology to evacuate humanity represented a pragmatic contingency plan.
Fury observed their reactions with satisfaction, silently concurring with Thor's assessment. Whatever happened centuries hence wouldn't be his problem. Future generations would deal with their own crises.
"If this plan is so sensible," Tony pressed, still troubled, "why would Lockhart reject it outright? That doesn't align with his usual strategic thinking."
Thor's expression darkened at the question, clearly recalling contentious interactions. "This decision doesn't reflect Lockhart's personal judgment, but rather Karma Taj's collective position. Their doctrine states that entities like Celestials who threaten Earth's integrity cannot be permitted to exist—they must be utterly eradicated."
"They're not concerned about Celestial retribution?" Tony asked incredulously. This remained his primary objection—surely magical practitioners as ancient and wise as Karma Taj would anticipate such obvious consequences.
Unless...
"The Ancient One—Karma Taj's Supreme Sorceress—made this declaration," Thor explained, his frustration evident. "She claims responsibility for neutralizing the Celestial threat, but I doubt she truly comprehends the magnitude of Celestial power."
He scowled. "Stubborn, self-righteous old witch!"
The moment the insult left his lips, something shifted in the room's atmosphere.
BZZZZT!
"Who dares?" Thor suddenly roared, whirling toward an empty corner of the conference room.
Mjölnir instantly crackled with dense arcs of dark blue electricity as he sensed an unseen presence. Something—or someone—was observing them, possessing power that Thor found disturbingly unfathomable.
The Avengers snapped to high alert, weapons drawn and powers ready. Captain America's shield hummed as he raised it defensively; Natasha's Widow's Bite bracelets charged with blue energy; Clint nocked an arrow in one fluid motion.
Simultaneously, in a pocket dimension adjacent to reality, four powerful beings hastily retreated from their mystical surveillance. The scrying portal through which they had been watching collapsed as Thor's awareness detected their presence.
They sat around an ornate table in what appeared to be an elegant wizarding café suspended between dimensions—a neutral ground where entities of tremendous power could meet without destroying reality in the process.
Mephisto, Lord of Hell, crimson-skinned and immaculately dressed in a modern suit, wore an expression of genuine surprise.
Dormammu, ruler of the Dark Dimension, his flaming head casting eerie shadows, leaned forward with unmistakable interest.
David, a fallen wizard whose calm demeanor couldn't fully mask his nervousness at this unexpected development, had not anticipated such a rapid escalation. For the Supreme Sorcerer to directly intervene was unprecedented.
Doctor Strange, as composed as ever, maintained his characteristically impassive expression.
The clink of enchanted teacups provided the only sound for several moments as they processed what they had witnessed.
"David," Mephisto finally broke the silence, "this confirms your earlier assertion. The Celestials have indeed seeded Earth." His elegant features contorted with disgust. "How utterly insidious."
Dormammu nodded in agreement, flames flickering more intensely. What had begun as a simple power play to claim additional influence over the mortal realm now appeared complicated by Celestial machinations. These cosmic entities weren't content with their share—they sought to overturn the entire metaphysical chessboard.
Both demonic lords seethed with envy and resentment. Earth's unique mystical properties made it extraordinarily valuable. If a Celestial were born from such fertile ground, it would undoubtedly emerge as a cosmos-shaking power, potentially disrupting the careful balance maintained between multiversal forces.
"This is precisely why we requested this meeting," Strange interjected forcefully, taking control of the conversation. "Both Asgard and Karma Taj have fixed their attention on the Celestial embryo."
He steepled his fingers. "I need not elaborate on the value of such an entity to beings of your... perspective. If circumstances permit, we intend to claim our portion."
Mephisto and Dormammu exchanged glances of undisguised contempt. These fallen sorcerers—powerful by mortal standards but mere insects compared to cosmic entities—seriously believed they could extract power from beneath Odin's watchful eye or challenge the Ancient One's mystical dominance?
Either of those ancient beings could stand against a Celestial. What could these rogue wizards possibly offer that would make such a suicidal endeavor worthwhile?
Then David spoke softly, his quiet voice carrying tremendous weight: "We have discovered the key to accessing the dimensional pocket containing the Celestial embryo."
The demonic lords' expressions shifted from dismissal to calculated interest. Perhaps these fallen wizards had value after all.
Back in the helicarrier conference room, the tension remained palpable. Thor lowered Mjölnir slightly, but his posture remained combat-ready.
"We were being observed," he declared grimly. "By beings of significant magical potency."
As if summoned by Thor's declaration, a familiar golden portal materialized in the center of the conference room, expanding into a perfect circle of sparking energy. Through it stepped Lockhart, his emerald robes now complemented by the Cloak of Levitation, which settled around his shoulders with sentient grace.
"Indeed you were," Lockhart confirmed, the Philosopher's Stone still gleaming in his palm. "And not merely by me."
"This changes everything," he continued, his normally theatrical demeanor replaced by grave concern. "We now face not only the Celestial dilemma but a conspiracy of interdimensional proportions."
"Explain," Fury demanded, hand still hovering near his weapon.
"Dormammu. Mephisto. David's apostates. Strange's rebels." Lockhart listed the names with increasing gravity. "All have taken interest in our cosmic predicament. They believe they've found a way to access the Celestial chamber."
Thor's expression darkened further. "How do you know this?"
A slight smile tugged at Lockhart's lips, a momentary flash of his old charisma. "I wrote the book on Memory Charms, Thor. Quite literally. Did you think your Asgardian mental defenses could keep me from obtaining information I required?"
The Avengers exchanged troubled glances. The situation was evolving rapidly beyond their control, cosmic dominoes falling in patterns they couldn't predict.
"So what now?" Steve Rogers asked, ever focused on the next tactical move.
Lockhart's expression became deadly serious as he turned to face them all. "Now, we must accelerate our plans. The Philosopher's Stone requires three days to reach full potency for the transformation ritual."
"We don't have three days," Tony concluded, reading between the lines.
"No," Lockhart agreed, "we most certainly do not."
Outside, the London sky had grown unnaturally dark. Residents below whispered of strange lights seen moving through the clouds—lights that witnesses would later describe as resembling broomsticks and flying creatures not native to England's skies.
The wizarding world and the world of superheroes were about to collide in ways that neither universe had prepared for.