The doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum creaked open, and the smell of incense drifted into the street.
Wong stood there, arms folded, eyes already screaming you again before anyone spoke.
"What do you want?"
Alex stepped forward, trying to keep his voice steady. "We… need Strange."
Wong's brows knit. "You can't see Strange."
Deadpool leaned toward Frenchie, whispering, "Is this one of those 'he's dead, Jim' moments, or just a bad mood thing?"
Alex ignored him. "Where is he?"
Inside the Sanctum
The group sat in mismatched chairs around a large, floating tea tray. Wong poured without asking if anyone wanted some.
"Strange is… missing," Wong said, finally breaking the silence.
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Missing? Doing what?"
Wong took a slow sip. "Investigating."
Butcher grunted. "Investigating what?"
"The death of Thanos," Wong replied flatly.
The room went still.
Alex blinked. "Hold up. Death of Thanos?"
Wong's gaze was firm. "He never attacked Earth. There was no Snap here. No battle for the Infinity Stones. None of it happened. Someone killed him before he could make a move."
Deadpool sat forward, hands clasped dramatically. "Wow. Anti-climax of the century. No portal army, no 'Avengers Assemble'—just… Thanos down like a bad Tinder date."
Alex shook his head, his mind racing. "Wait—if there was no Snap, then Endgame never happened. That means…"
"That means Stark is alive," Wong finished. "The Avengers remained. But the old roster faded. Now there's… a new team."
Alex sat forward. "Who killed Thanos?"
Wong looked away. "We don't know. That's what Strange went to find out."
"And?" Alex pressed.
"And he didn't return."
"How long?"
"Eight months," Wong answered, tone flat. "No word. No trace."
Butcher leaned back, expression sour. "So, to sum up—purple space twat's dead, nobody knows who iced him, Tony's sipping piña coladas somewhere, and your wizard pal's gone AWOL."
"Correct," Wong said.
Deadpool slapped the armrest. "Love it. Absolutely love it. Peak timeline. Totally stable. Not suspicious at all."
Alex didn't share the sarcasm. His fingers tightened around the Gauntlet on his lap.
Whoever could kill Thanos before he moved… and make Strange disappear?
The idea sat in his chest like ice.
Outside-
The city air felt different. Colder. The skyscrapers still loomed, but the billboards were new, faces Alex didn't recognize grinning down like they owned the place.
They were halfway down Bleecker Street when a voice called from behind—calm, measured, but familiar.
"It's been a long time."
The group turned.
Matt Murdock stood there, cane in one hand, his suit neat but worn, tie slightly loose as if he'd been working since dawn. His sightless eyes turned toward them, but his presence was sharp as ever.
Alex smiled faintly. "Matt?"
"It's me." He walked toward them. "Where the hell have you been? You dropped off the face of the Earth."
Deadpool immediately raised a hand. "Technically the forest of the Earth. And also technically two days. Don't let the facial hair fool you."
Matt tilted his head. "Two days?"
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. For us. But…" He gestured vaguely at the city. "Clearly, that's not what happened here."
Matt's jaw tightened. "No. Here, it's been two years."
They stood there on the sidewalk as the traffic passed.
Matt took a slow breath. "A lot's happened. The city's changed. Fisk—Wilson Fisk—is Mayor now."
Butcher made a noise somewhere between a growl and a laugh. "Oh, brilliant. Big fat criminal runnin' the whole bloody city. Couldn't get more cliché."
Matt ignored the jab. "He's got the NYPD in his pocket. Judges, too. It's worse than before. My friend Foggy…" His voice hitched just slightly. "Foggy Nelson was killed last year. It was made to look like an accident. It wasn't."
Alex's expression hardened. "I'm sorry, Matt."
Matt gave the faintest nod. "Fisk's crackdown on vigilantes is in full swing. Daredevil, Spider-Man, anyone who's ever worn a mask is either underground or gone. And the public? Half of them think we were the problem to begin with."
Hughie frowned. "So… basically the bad guy won while we were gone?"
"Pretty much," Matt said flatly. "And it's not just Fisk. The streets have changed. Gangs have shifted. Whole blocks are under new control. There's this constant… tension in the air, like everyone's just waiting for something worse to happen."
Frenchie crossed his arms. "Sounds like war brewin'."
Matt gave a humorless smile. "It's already here. Just not everyone realizes it yet."
Deadpool piped up. "Wow. Thanks for the super uplifting TED Talk, Mr. Red Spandex Lawyer. Next time I'll just ask for the Yelp version."
Matt's lips twitched in faint amusement. "Still as talkative as ever, I see."
"You wound me, Matthew. You know I'm the glue that holds this depressing little friendship together."
Butcher rolled his eyes. "Glue that needs bleedin' replacin'."
Alex stepped forward. "So… all of this happened while we were gone. Fisk, Foggy, the crackdown… all in two years?"
Matt turned his head toward him. "You're lucky you weren't here. But… if you're back now, you're walking into a different city. And if Fisk finds out you've got something he wants—"
"Then he'll regret it," Butcher cut in.
Matt's brow creased slightly. "I'm not joking. He's got power like you wouldn't believe. He's patient. And he doesn't lose."
Deadpool wagged a finger. "Ooo, ominous foreshadowing. Love it."
Matt adjusted his tie. "Look, I've got a meeting, but… it's good to see you again. Just—be careful.
Everything you remember about this city? Forget it. That New York's gone."
He turned and started walking toward his office, cane tapping against the pavement.
Alex watched him go, the noise of the street filling the silence between the group.
Deadpool broke it with a mutter. "Two years gone, crime boss mayor, dead friends, and we missed the whole plot. Feels like we skipped a season of the show."
Butcher grunted. "Feels like we're about to start the bloody finale."