In a Not-So-Distant Future
At the Edge of the Universe, Earth-813.
Destruction.
On a scale unseen since the Dawn War—the campaign of Knull against the light of all existence, an ancient time remembered only by the rarest beings who either survived or witnessed it themselves.
What once had been a solar system with many planets and moons now drifted in ruin. Floating amidst the debris of a shattered world lay a colossus greater than mountains, clad in broad, imposing armor of gold and green. Six eyes, arranged in two vertical lines, were extinguished, lifeless. The cause: a massive rupture atop his head, bleeding out pure cosmic energy.
The colossus was Eson the Searcher.
He belonged to a race of cosmic entities known as the Celestials—beings of immeasurable power, older than this universe itself.
Upon Eson's corpse, an unknown figure who had been unconscious just moments ago awoke in confusion—only to quickly comprehend the gravity of his situation. Compared to the Celestial, he was as small as an ant, yet through his awakened cosmic awareness, he became conscious of the events unfolding across the universe.
He understood: the balance had tipped toward the enemy. Sixty percent of Kree and Skrull territory had already fallen. If this continued, soon there would be nothing left to defend—or avenge.
{Amadeus!} he called aloud, his voice echoing through the vacuum of space.
(I thought you were dead! I told you the odds of you making it out w—)
{I know. Less than forty percent. Yet here I am, aren't I?} he cut off Amadeus.
(Considering that you and your communicator are still intact, I'd say it's a miracle against all probability. But the fact you've called me means one thing—as usual, you've already assessed the situation we're in.)
{Exactly. Which is why we move to Plan B.}
(Are you certain they'll answer?) Amadeus asked, doubtful.
{Ah, Amadeus… even with an intellect that blinds the brightest of races, you still think so small. Let me remind you one last time, so it's clear: this is a war for the fate of creation itself!} the man declared, cutting the communicator, fixing his gaze across galaxies as the enemy finally made a move.
In a flash, the enemy appeared, floating, raising a golden gauntlet upon his arm with three gleaming stones embedded within. His armor was shattered, his body marked by grievous wounds—yet his lips still curved into an arrogant smile.
{Something distracted you, Thanos?}
{Merely an irritating worm put back in its place,} Thanos replied.
{Mefisto would surely disapprove… losing the chance to erase your enemy for good, over something so trivial.}
{Nothing I cannot undo!} the Titan answered coldly.
In response, the man unleashed his titanic power, sweeping away what little remained of the solar system until only the two of them—and Eson's corpse—remained. His eyes blazed with pure electricity, his body wreathed in lightning that crackled in all directions. His armor reforged itself, and from his back unfurled a cloak of living thunder.
{Then come!}
{It's time to finish our beautiful symphony of destruction!} Thanos roared, moving forward.
But the wielder of lightning was faster. In a blur, he appeared before the Mad Titan and struck him across the face with all his might, hurling Thanos light-years away. Pursuing him at speeds beyond the measure of light itself, the warrior followed as Thanos crashed into a planet within another system, annihilating it entirely upon impact before leaping free once more. Their clash erupted anew in the void.
A bubble of energy expanded, consuming moons, planets, stars, even black holes—before detonating like a miniature Big Bang. Three galaxies were obliterated, leaving behind a gaping void in the cosmic cluster.
Yet within that void, the two still exchanged blows, their shockwaves destroying worlds and shaking stars millions of light-years away.
And thus, the battle for creation began anew.