After the war ended, the Avengers, Doctor Strange, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and key figures like Captain Marvel gathered in one of the few intact rooms at Avengers Tower.
The atmosphere was overwhelmingly positive, though it carried a heavy, almost surreal quality—as though none of them could quite believe the nightmare was over.
The fact that they had achieved a decisive victory against Thanos, completely wiping out his forces, was something none of them had dared to imagine at the outset. The Mad Titan, the shadow that had loomed over the universe, lay broken and dead. That reality still hadn't fully sunk in.
Of course, the human alliance had also paid a heavy price. Countless lives were lost—because when an alien fleet descended with weapons capable of glassing continents, casualties were inevitable.
Whether it was the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj who had strained themselves to exhaustion, the warriors of Wakanda whose spears had snapped against alien armor, or other combat personnel drawn into the war, many had fallen beneath Thanos' relentless army.
But despite everything, none of the key figures had been lost, which was perhaps the only consolation. Among the scattered ruins, the pillars of Earth still stood.
---
"How about we throw a party tonight?"
Rocket Raccoon, sprawled on the arm of a chair that was too big for him, scanned the room enthusiastically. His tail flicked as he spoke.
"The strongest warriors in the universe drinking and dancing together—how wonderful would that be?"
"I think... the rabbit has a point!"
The chubby Thor perked up instantly, eyes gleaming at the thought. His voice carried a trace of longing, as though he were reaching back toward happier days.
"It's been a long time since I've experienced what a party feels like. Honestly, I'd really like to experience it again."
"A party for the universe's strongest warriors? That sounds amazing! I'm in! I can't miss this!" Peter Parker practically bounced on his toes, youthful excitement shining in his eyes.
He looked toward his idol expectantly.
"Mr. Stark, will you be there too?"
"Kid, I'm the life of the party. Of course, I'll be there," Tony Stark said with his characteristic flair, adjusting his jacket even though it was torn and dust-streaked from battle.
One by one, the tension began to unravel from the room. Laughter returned. Shoulders eased. After such a major victory, celebrating together felt not just natural, but necessary—a way to remind themselves that they were still alive.
Even though the key figures came from different planets and backgrounds, the desire to celebrate after a great battle was something they all shared. It was an instinct older than cultures, older than worlds.
And so, it was settled.
---
"Alex, join us," Captain America said, turning toward him.
Despite their earlier disagreements, Alex was now their comrade-in-arms—the warrior who had dealt the final blow to Thanos. Captain America's tone carried a warmth that hadn't been there before, the stiffness of mistrust finally melting away.
"Alright!" Alex nodded after a moment's thought.
Since the time machine had been destroyed and he couldn't return for now, there wasn't much else for him to do in this world. And truthfully, being invited into their circle—no matter how temporary—sparked something he hadn't felt in years: belonging.
Considering the Avengers headquarters had been reduced to ruins, Tony Stark offered up the luxurious banquet hall at the top of Stark Tower.
There, they held a grand celebration.
The opulent hall was a stark contrast to the battlefield they had just left behind. Crystal chandeliers threw warm light across polished marble floors. Music, soft and elegant, spilled from hidden speakers. Tables groaned under the weight of food—alien dishes, Stark's finest vintages, even shawarma from a local joint that Tony had insisted on.
For Alex, who came from the 1960s, the sensory overload was unlike anything he could have imagined. Technology, luxury, culture—the gap between eras was an insurmountable chasm. Yet here he was, holding a glass of red wine and conversing with legends from across the stars.
It was surreal. And strangely enjoyable.
---
"Strange!"
During the party, Tony Stark approached his only rival in the art of showmanship, Doctor Strange, swirling his wine as if it were part of a performance.
"Five years ago, on Titan, you said there was only one way to defeat Thanos. Was that one way what we just experienced—Alex traveling from the past to help us kill Thanos?"
Doctor Strange shook his head, his sharp features softening under the glow of candlelight.
"No, Stark. To be honest, ever since Alex arrived from the past, I haven't been able to see the future of this timeline."
He swirled his own glass thoughtfully.
"For some reason, there seems to be a mysterious power surrounding Alex that prevents me from probing into it."
Even now, Strange's voice carried that rare admission: uncertainty.
"Something like that actually happened?" Tony was genuinely surprised, his usual cocky mask slipping. "So, this victory was completely unexpected for you?"
"Exactly." Strange's nod was deliberate, his tone firm.
Tony Stark fell into deep thought, his eyes narrowing in uncharacteristic silence.
He had initially considered asking Doctor Strange to use the Time Stone to look into the past and uncover the truth behind the disappearance of the mutants, as a way of repaying Alex for his help. But now, it seemed that path was closed.
"Well, never mind," Tony waved it off after a moment, though his curiosity only deepened. "You still haven't told me what you saw on Titan, Strange."
Strange gave him a sly grin.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Tony spread his hands as if to say: what could possibly scare me now?
Strange drained his glass, savoring it before speaking.
"This really is good wine. Oh, right, you're still waiting for my answer. Well, Stark, how should I put this? You should really thank Alex."
Tony raised a brow.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because he saved your life," Strange replied matter-of-factly.
Tony blinked, his expression faltering into confusion.
"Are you saying I was supposed to die?"
Upon reflection, it wasn't shocking. This had been a war against the universe's greatest threat. Death had been hanging over them all like a storm cloud. That he could have been one of the casualties… Tony could accept it.
"Really? How did I die? I don't need you to tell me—I'm sure I died a hero's death, right?" His smirk returned, tinged with pride.
Strange exhaled slowly.
"Although I'd like to say otherwise... yes, you did. In fact, it was your sacrifice that ensured our victory."
Then, briefly, he explained the events of the original Endgame.
Tony's face went blank. Then he suddenly held up a hand.
"Wait, wait, wait!" He cut Strange off, voice incredulous. "I don't know what you were thinking in that future, but I need to confirm something. When you held up one finger, did you really mean for me to snap my fingers?"
His voice rose half in disbelief, half in complaint. "Seriously, Strange—what kind of vague cosmic charades were you playing at?!"
"No," Strange shook his head, amusement flickering across his normally stoic face.
"I was pointing upward, telling you to fly up into the sky after snatching the gems... but anyway, we still won the war."
Tony Stark: "..."
He stared at Strange, mouth open, wine forgotten in his hand. For once, the great Tony Stark had no comeback.
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