"Master, where are we going next?"
Aurora's calm, melodic voice resonated through the ship's core as Rowan stepped back aboard.
Rowan closed his eyes briefly, considering his next move. Then he answered with quiet determination. "Nidavellir."
Aurora's holographic projection tilted her head in thought. "Nidavellir? The realm of the dwarves, under Asgard's dominion?"
"That's right," Rowan confirmed.
His mind had already pieced together the plan. The path forward was clear, even if it was paved with danger. The reason he sought Nidavellir was simple: he needed to forge a vessel worthy of holding the Infinity Stones.
Rowan had already acquired four of them the Space Stone, the Reality Stone, the Mind Stone, and most recently, the Power Stone. Four cosmic forces beyond comprehension now sat within his grasp, yet he found himself unable to fully unleash their potential.
He frowned slightly as he thought of the Tesseract's icy-blue brilliance. The Space Stone had been inert in his hands, an untapped reservoir of possibility. Sorcerers like those of Kamar-Taj or even Loki with his trickster's magic could coax fragments of power from such gems. But Rowan had no patience for years of mystical study. He preferred something simpler, more direct, more permanent.
The Infinity Gauntlet.
In the original timeline, Thanos had walked this path. After claiming the Power Stone, he had turned to Nidavellir to compel the dwarves into forging the legendary gauntlet, a weapon capable of housing all six Stones.
Rowan intended to steal that destiny for himself, leaving Thanos no road to tread.
Aurora received her command and, with a soft acknowledgment, altered their course. The engines of the vibranium starship hummed to life, carrying them through the endless dark toward the dwarven forge-world.
Before sealing himself away, Rowan turned to Wanda. His voice was gentle, but firm. "Wanda, continue your training. I need time in seclusion."
Her crimson eyes flickered with understanding, though worry shadowed them. She gave a silent nod.
Rowan entered a chamber deep within the ship, its walls lined with shimmering layers of vibranium. This room was no ordinary cabin it was an isolation chamber, its dimensions shaped at will by Aurora's control. It could withstand forces that would annihilate planets.
Crossing the threshold, Rowan lowered himself into a seated position and let his consciousness sink inward, into the core of his being.
Within his dantian, a strange sight greeted him: one massive violet star orbited by eight smaller ones, all spinning in quiet, ominous unity. Nine miniature stars, their light pulsing with violet brilliance.
Rowan grimaced. "So it's permanent. There's no changing it back."
Still, curiosity tugged at him. "Have my attributes shifted as well?"
His gaze lingered on the swirling energy within, and a bold thought stirred.
"Let's test the Flame God's Body."
Drawing upon the violet energy within his core, Rowan activated the technique.
The transformation was immediate. Violet lines streaked across his skin, forming living patterns of flame that pulsed with destructive might. Fire ignited from his shoulders and elbows, licking upward in serpentine tongues of violet light. His hair lifted as if caught in an invisible wind, strands turning into flickering fire that blazed in the same unnatural hue.
He raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the wall's mirrored surface. "Even the flames have turned violet?"
The sight was awe-inspiring, yet unsettling. He had grown accustomed to the crimson fire of his martial path. To see it consumed and reborn in violet flame felt alien, even to him. Still, as he flexed his fists, he sensed no corruption. The essence of fire remained.
"Maybe this isn't a curse," Rowan murmured. His hand tightened into a fist, heat radiating with every movement. "Maybe it's a gift."
The power surging through his body was undeniable. He could feel it in the marrow of his bones, in the very rhythm of his breath.
"Let's test it."
Violet light gleamed in his eyes. He lashed out with a single punch.
The strike landed against the vibranium wall with a sound that resonated through the chamber, like a great drum beaten by thunder.
"Whummm!"
The entire chamber trembled. A wave of violet sparks exploded outward, scattering across the metallic surface like a galaxy unraveling in miniature. Vibranium was famed for absorbing kinetic force, yet even it groaned under the assault.
When the dust cleared, a faint but undeniable fist-shaped depression marred the once-pristine wall.
Rowan froze. "Impossible…"
To deform vibranium with raw physical strength was nearly unthinkable. He stared at the shallow dent, his chest tightening with exhilaration.
Symbols glowed on the wall, recording the impact. Numbers scrolled upward at dizzying speed, racing into the hundreds of thousands. At last they stilled.
"590,369,101 kilograms," the chamber announced in cold mechanical tones.
Rowan inhaled sharply. "That's nearly sixty million tons of force."
A tremor of awe shook him. By conventional measurement, a martial artist at planetary rank nine wielded between two hundred fifty thousand to five hundred thousand tons of force. His own strike, empowered by the violet flames, exceeded even the boundaries of planetary mastery, edging into the realm of stellar warriors.
Rowan clenched his fists again, marveling at the sensation. "The Violet Flame War God's Body… it pushes me beyond my limits."
For comparison, he released the violet state, letting his body return to normal. Then he struck the wall once more.
This time, the blow left only a faint white streak. Numbers appeared again: three hundred thirty thousand tons.
Still formidable, yet far less than what the violet flames provided.
His lips curved in a thin smile. "So in this form, my strength doubles."
The discovery thrilled him. Before, the Flame God's Body had granted only modest boosts forty, maybe fifty percent at most. But now, infused with the Power Stone's corruption and rebirth, his War God form was a different beast altogether.
"The Power Stone truly is terrifying," he whispered.
And if one gem could alter him this much, what about the others?
His mind wandered briefly to the golden glow of the Mind Stone. He had absorbed fragments of its power before, yet his consciousness, his sea of spirit, had not undergone the same transformation his body had with the Power Stone.
"If only the Mind Stone could reshape my soul as the Power Stone reshaped my body," he thought. "Then I'd truly be unstoppable."
Resolve hardened in him. The Infinity Stones were not just weapons. They were catalysts. To wield them properly, he needed more than instinct. He needed a tool worthy of them.
"The Infinity Gauntlet is no longer optional," Rowan decided. "It's essential."
His eyes closed, and he drew a long breath. Somewhere in the future lay the Cosmic Genius War, ten years away. The thought pressed on him like a looming storm. He was already strong, but not yet unassailable. The path to survival and dominance demanded foresight.
He would build the gauntlet. And he would be ready.
…
Elsewhere in the universe, far from Rowan's meditations, a throne drifted in the void. Upon it sat a giant whose very presence weighed upon the stars.
Thanos.
His face was carved from stone, his eyes dark with calculation. In the silence, Ebony Maw stepped forward, his expression grave.
"My lord, before she perished, Nebula managed to transmit this recording."
He extended a hand. A holographic projection shimmered into existence above the throne.
The image flickered, revealing Rowan, clad in azure battle armor, his hand closing around the shattered Orb. The Power Stone blazed in his grip, violet light flooding the screen. His skin cracked, his body split with lines of destruction, yet impossibly, he endured. He bent the Infinity Stone to his will.
The recording shifted. A second figure streaked into view a woman bathed in scarlet energy. Wanda Maximoff. Her power surged, chaos magic crackling, as she hurled a blade directly at the observer.
The screen went black.
Silence reigned.
Thanos leaned back, his massive hands tightening on the throne's armrests. He spoke at last, his voice deep and edged with iron. "The one in armor… is that the same figure who assaulted your fleet?"
The Chitauri leader flinched beneath his gaze, scrambling to recall the events of the failed invasion. After a moment, he nodded quickly. "Yes… yes, my lord. It matches. The same eyes. The same presence."
Thanos fell into silence again, his gaze distant, thoughts unreadable. Then, slowly, he murmured a single word.
"Earth."
For the first time, true menace flickered in his eyes. Twice now, his designs for the Stones had been undone. First, when Loki failed on Earth. Now, with Ronan's fall and the Power Stone stolen.
Both times, the same man had stood in his way.
A human.
Thanos's lips tightened into a thin, dangerous smile.
"This… will not stand."
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