After giving Dormammu another thorough "squeeze," Ronan left the Dark Dimension, fully satisfied.
This haul of dark energy would keep him busy digesting for a while.
Weird way to put it, sure, but that's how it was.
In his current state, Ronan couldn't swallow the whole Dark Dimension in one gulp.
So, he'd kicked off his nibbling strategy.
A few more rounds, and his grip on the dimension would tighten while Dormammu withered.
Then, Dormammu'd be putty in his hands.
Back on Earth, Ronan didn't ping anyone—just pulled out Kang the Conqueror's controller.
He strapped it to his wrist and hit a button.
A portal flared up in front of him.
This one wasn't like the first portal he'd taken to the TVA—maybe the access level differed from the start.
Sure enough, as he'd guessed, stepping through didn't land him in the TVA's guts.
It was the castle—the one Kang had called home.
The place was still a wreck, just like when he'd left it.
Battle scars untouched, no repairs.
Meaning no one'd been here since he bounced.
Kang's corpse still lounged in the chair, no rot in sight.
Ronan wasn't shocked.
Time didn't tick here—it was frozen at some point.
"As expected, still no magic allowed."
Ronan probed his inner magic—his link to Vishanti was cut.
Kamar-Taj mages borrowed their juice and spells from the big boss, Vishanti.
Sever that, and they're just humans with slightly beefier bodies.
Ronan, though? Different story.
He felt another power in him, wild and untamed.
He shook his head.
This place was like a cosmic "signal jammer."
It didn't just block outside connections—it locked down everyone's inner juice.
Superhumans, innate or earned, were stuck with tech or raw physicality here.
In a way, Kang was untouchable.
Tech-only version, at least.
What bugged Ronan, though? How'd Kang pull this off?
He didn't know about others, but Ronan's hookup was Vishanti.
The triple-threat god squad.
How'd Kang jam a divine signal?
Then again, in a few years, Tony Stark would whip up an Infinity Gauntlet with tech alone.
Fast-forward centuries, tech leaps ahead.
A "signal jammer" like this? Not so wild.
In Marvel's world, science could crack the mystical code.
Figuring that out, Ronan strolled to the window, peering out.
Same as when he'd left—the timeline ribbon outside sprouted endless branches.
The multiverse was set.
Kangs were galloping wild across parallel timelines.
The TVA's crew couldn't stop it anymore.
Maybe they never could—multiverses might've kicked off the second Ronan hit 616.
He shook his head, tapping the bracelet on his right wrist.
A red glow swept the room—IR scan done.
"No hidden rooms, no exits."
"Not even a secret compartment."
Ronan frowned at the results.
Was this "office" really this barebones?
Or…
He lifted his left arm.
Since arriving, the controller there finally pinged—like it'd caught a "Wi-Fi" signal.
Lights flickered on.
"Guess the real secrets are here."
He recalled Kang's face when handing him the device.
No hesitation—he pressed a button that'd been dead last time.
Weird thing? He mashed every control, and nada.
Like something was missing.
"Looks like the TVA's still hiding tricks."
"Cracking it now's a stretch."
No point digging deeper—not that he didn't want to.
His sharp ears caught footsteps closing in.
Ronan turned toward the sound.
As they grew louder, a too-familiar figure stepped into view.
Kang the Conqueror.
Well, another Kang.
Same face, different drip.
This one rocked a spacesuit vibe—black cape, helmet dome.
Compared to the "He Who Remains" version, this Kang screamed villain energy.
Ronan tapped his bracelet twice—his Iron Man suit snapped on.
"Classic model? Ha!"
Kang eyed Ronan's transformation, smirking.
To Ronan, this was cutting-edge.
To Kang? Retro chic.
"Nah, compared to your astronaut getup, my classic's got more tech swagger."
Ronan fired back, no mercy.
Seriously—Kang's outfit was ass.
Not just dated—downright ugly.
No hint of future tech.
If sci-fi writers saw this "future combat suit," they'd question their whole imagination.
"You're making me wonder if future tech's just antique cosplay."
"Back in the '30s or '40s, people dressed like that."
Ronan kept roasting.
Hell, Steve Rogers' old-school suit didn't look this bad.
At least it had style.
"Maybe. Humans are like that, right?"
"Nostalgia for the good old days, dreaming of a mystic future."
Kang shrugged, unbothered by the jabs.
But his words—he still saw himself as human.
So, not a Pharaoh Kang or God Kang.
Beatable!
"So what's with the costume?"
"Not here to bury your 'brother,' I take it?"
Ronan glanced at the chair-bound Kang, grinning.
If this Kang wanted to play undertaker, he'd have done it ages ago.
Showing up now, right as Ronan did? Not simple.
"Nope. Just wanted to see you."
"Ronan Yao—the legend of countless future tales."
Kang locked eyes with him, gaze like he was sizing up a corpse.
In his era, sans immortality, Ronan'd be dust.
That look rubbed Ronan wrong.
"So, you're here to chat about my future like that guy did?"
"Fair warning—right after he did, he croaked."
Ronan smirked, not thrilled.
Kang's stare pissed him off, and his words sucked too.
He was the one who spoiled futures—now someone's spoiling his?
With his double-standard ass, no way he'd roll with that!
"Nah, just heard some legends."
"In my time, no one's confirmed you're dead."
"Actually, you saved Earth tons."
Kang shook his head, his vibe shifting a bit.
"So you're from my universe's future?"
"Or you Kangs been gossiping about me?"
Ronan caught on quick.
The Ancient One once said he was one-of-a-kind.
Not just in his universe—across all of 'em.
Odds are, other universes didn't have a Ronan.
"Nope, just legends in my universe."
"Your era's Supreme, Strange, logged your story in Kamar-Taj's library."
"He wiped your traces there—only each Sorcerer Supreme gets your name and deeds."
"I stumbled on it by chance."
Kang shook his head, dodging Ronan's theory.
But he didn't hide much either.
"You're from 616?"
Ronan's brow shot up.
If this Kang was 616, it tracked.
616's Strange cast that forgetting spell on Earth.
And if Kangs could powwow, they'd have multiverse-hopping tech.
Popping here? No surprise.
"Yup."
Kang owned it, no fuss.
"If you're 616, why not conquer Earth?"
"You're not here just to check if I'm hot, right?"
Ronan shrugged.
Big bads like this skipping "conquer or destroy" to visit him?
What's the deal?
"Wanted to see what kind of guy could hop universes back when timelines were locked and tech wasn't there."
Kang's eyes glinted.
Ronan wasn't buying it.
Simple reason—Kang's vibe.
Would a guy like him care?
Nah.
A true ambition junkie—conquered universes, offed his variants, aiming to rule all.
This type caring about Ronan?
Or… did Ronan have something to stop him?
"Let me guess."
"You've got two goals here."
"One: check me out, maybe kill me."
"I caught that fear in your words, even if you hid it slick."
Ronan grinned at Kang.
Kang's face didn't budge. "And the second?"
No denial, no nod.
"Two: if you can't kill me, you'll tie me up with some deal."
"If I'm right, back in 616, you've kicked off your rampage, yeah?"
Ronan crunched the timeline—different flows, but it lined up.
Kang laughed, clapping slow.
"Gotta say, we nailed it discussing you."
"Your brilliance isn't just power—it's your brain."
"And those freaky-accurate future guesses."
"'Predictions' of what's coming!"
Kang copped to it.
Future Ronan was a thorn in his side.
More telling? He only saw Ronan as the threat—nobody else rated.
"So future you built the TVA, parked it in this universe."
"Cut my Vishanti link clean, sealed my powers."
"You've been guarding against me from the jump."
Ronan got it—why the TVA popped up here, not 616.
"Whew."
"If I wasn't sure you never hit my timeline…"
"I'd swear you time-traveled back too."
Kang exhaled, rattled by Ronan's guesses.
In short—Ronan nailed it.
Ronan just smiled.
Maybe Kang never clocked it, but in a way, Ronan did traverse.
Not time…
The fourth wall.