The moment Steve Rogers opened his mouth to coordinate their expanded team, Tony Stark's voice cut through the comm system with characteristic bluntness and theatrical flair.
"Okay, first things first—Death Dealers? Seriously?" Tony's repulsors flared as he took down three Chitauri soldiers with surgical precision, his HUD already running marketing analytics in the background. "That name is a complete disaster for branding. Public relations nightmare of epic proportions. We need something with more... I don't know, market appeal? Merchandising potential? Something that doesn't sound like a motorcycle gang with delusions of grandeur."
"This is hardly the appropriate moment for marketing concerns, Mr. Stark," Daphne replied with aristocratic coolness, her voice carrying that precise upper-class British accent that could cut glass. Her Space Stone attunement flickered around her like blue starlight as she teleported behind a group of aliens, dismantling them with lethal ballet-like precision—though Harry could sense through their soul-bond that she was operating at perhaps a tenth of what the Stone could truly offer. "Some of us are attempting to save lives."
"Darling," Tony shot back without missing a beat, "it's always time for marketing concerns. What happens when we inevitably have action figures? Lunch boxes? Saturday morning cartoons? Happy Meals? 'Death Dealers' sounds like a biker gang, not cosmic champions of justice and righteousness."
Steve Rogers, built like a classical statue come to life and clearly deciding to focus on more immediate tactical concerns, raised his voice over the increasingly chaotic symphony of battle. His shield sang through the air, ricocheting off three Chitauri soldiers before returning to his hand with practiced ease. "Alright, new plan, people. Avengers, you know your roles—containment, civilian evacuation, close that portal. Our new allies..." He paused, his square jaw working as he struggled with how to deploy forces whose capabilities he couldn't begin to comprehend. "Do whatever you think is necessary. Just try not to level Manhattan while you're at it."
"Communication is going to be a significant issue," Tony observed, his HUD tracking the Death Dealers' movements as they began to spread across the battlefield like pieces on a cosmic chess board. "We've got state-of-the-art internal comms, but you're not exactly running on standard frequencies. Unless you've got interdimensional cell phone plans?"
Hermione's golden eyes lit up behind her visor, that familiar spark of intellectual excitement that Harry had fallen in love with years ago. "Actually, I can solve that quite easily," she said with the confidence of someone who had once rewritten the laws of magic itself. "Though it might be a touch invasive."
Before anyone could ask how, golden light pulsed from her armor—radiant and warm like captured sunlight. Though Harry could sense through the Soul Stone that she was drawing only a fraction of the Mind Stone's true potential, lacking the deep soul-level integration he'd achieved with his own cosmic artifact. Still, her brilliant mind made even limited power sing.
Suddenly everyone's consciousness was gently connected—not invasively, but like being part of a vast, harmonious choir where each voice could be heard clearly.
*Testing, testing,* Hermione's mental voice was crisp and clear, carrying that slight bookish excitement she got when demonstrating new magic. *Everyone receiving this clearly? No cognitive dissonance or mental static?*
*Loud and crystal clear, Hermione,* came Tony's response, though his mental voice carried undertones of genuinely impressed surprise mixed with entrepreneurial calculation. *Okay, that's actually pretty fantastic. Telepathic communication network with zero latency. Patent pending, I assume? This could revolutionize—*
*The Mind Stone doesn't exactly come with licensing agreements, Mr. Stark,* Hermione replied with dry academic humor, though Harry could feel her strain at maintaining the connection without full Stone integration—like trying to conduct an orchestra while learning to read music.
Meanwhile, the battle was escalating with the kind of spectacular violence that would later spawn a thousand conspiracy theories. Chitauri forces were converging from all directions like metallic locusts, their energy weapons painting the smoky sky in deadly blues and purples. Thor's hammer sang through the air, calling lightning that turned alien soldiers to ash. Natasha moved through the chaos like a deadly dancer, her red hair whipping as she took down enemies twice her size with lethal precision. Clint's arrows found impossible targets, each shot calculated and perfect.
And through it all, the Hulk's roars of pure rage echoed off Manhattan's glass and steel canyons as he used a Chitauri speeder as an impromptu baseball bat.
*Found our primary target,* Harry announced through the mental link, his voice carrying that particular edge of controlled lethality that had once made Voldemort himself step back. His gaze was fixed on Stark Tower where a distinctive figure in green and gold stood silhouetted against the sky like some malevolent scarecrow. *Loki's on the tower with the Tesseract. I'm going after him.*
*Wait a second,* Steve started, shield raised as he coordinated the evacuation of trapped civilians, but Harry was already airborne, his armor's flight systems carrying him toward the tower with predatory grace.
*And our beloved Tin Man is still complaining about our perfectly adequate name,* Tonks observed with mental laughter that carried just a hint of her natural mischief, even as she grabbed a Leviathan by the tail and began using it as an impromptu club against its fellows—her Power Stone attunement granting her incredible strength, though nothing approaching what she would eventually achieve. *Should we humor his fragile corporate ego?*
*Why not indulge him?* Susan replied with warm amusement, her Reality Stone allowing her to turn a squad of Chitauri weapons into a cascade of rainbow-colored flower bouquets—the effect requiring visible concentration without full Stone mastery, her freckled face creased with effort. *Individual callsigns might actually be more practical anyway. Less confusion in the heat of battle.*
*Oh, this should be absolutely delicious,* came Tony's interested response, his mental voice practically rubbing its hands together with glee. *What brilliant superhero names have you lovely, terrifyingly powerful ladies come up with?*
Hermione was the first to respond, golden energy cascading around her armor like liquid starlight as she enhanced the tactical awareness of nearby SHIELD agents—though the effort was clearly taxing without complete Stone integration. *Mindweaver,* she announced with scholarly satisfaction. *For weaving minds together in harmony. The etymology is quite straightforward, really.*
*Ooh, I rather like that,* Daphne said with aristocratic approval, appearing behind a group of Chitauri in a flash of blue light that flickered slightly—her spatial manipulation still beautifully imprecise, like watching a master painter learn to use a new brush. *Astralis—for moving between the stars themselves. It has a certain classical elegance, don't you think?*
*Veritas,* Susan added simply, her warm voice carrying absolute conviction as crimson energy rewrote the structural integrity of an alien dropship, causing it to fold in on itself like cosmic origami—though the transformation was slower than it would be with full Reality Stone mastery. *Truth through the manipulation of reality itself.*
*Eversight,* Luna said with dreamy certainty, her silvery voice carrying strange harmonics as her green aura allowed her to predict and counter Chitauri attack patterns with supernatural precision—though Harry could sense through their bonds that she was seeing only beautiful fragments of potential futures, like looking through a fractured crystal. *For seeing all times at once, past and present and future dancing together.*
*Voltara,* Tonks announced with obvious satisfaction, violet lightning crackling around her like a living aurora as she punched through another Leviathan—the creature's destruction less spectacular than her earlier display but still impressively catastrophic. *Because I bloody well love the sound of it, and purple lightning is absolutely brilliant for intimidation purposes.*
*Now those,* Tony said with the tone of a man calculating profit margins, *have actual branding potential. Serious merchandising opportunities. We could have individual action figure lines, themed lunch boxes, maybe even a Saturday morning cartoon series. The market research alone—*
His enthusiastic corporate commentary was cut off as Harry's enhanced vision locked onto his target with predatory focus. Loki stood on the tower's balcony like some malevolent prince from a fairy tale, the scepter gleaming in his pale hand and an expression of aristocratic disdain painted across his sharp features. The Tesseract glowed behind him like a captured star, its energy feeding the portal that continued to vomit alien forces into Earth's sky.
Harry landed on the platform with enough controlled force to spider-web the expensive flooring, his draconic helmet making him look like some primordial god of war descended from the heavens. The orange veins in his armor pulsed with Soul Stone energy as he straightened to his full imposing height—cosmic power flowing through him like a river of liquid starlight, fully integrated and responsive in ways his wives' abilities were not yet.
"Loki of Asgard," he said, his voice carrying harmonics that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of reality itself. Every word was weighted with authority that transcended mortal understanding. "We need to have ourselves a little chat."
Loki's green eyes narrowed as they took in Harry's imposing form, and through the Soul Stone's perfect clarity, Harry could see the god's soul laid bare—layers upon layers of fear, desperate need for approval that had never been satisfied, and genuine terror of disappointing his cosmic master. It was almost pitiable, really.
"Another insect seeking to challenge a god?" Loki drawled with that particular brand of theatrical arrogance that had annoyed his way through centuries. "How tediously predictable. I suppose you expect me to be impressed by your little costume party?"
"Oh, I'm not challenging you, mate," Harry replied with conversational ease, beginning to circle the Asgardian prince like a predator sizing up wounded prey. His voice carried that particular brand of British understatement that could make the apocalypse sound like a minor inconvenience. "I'm here to beat the living hell out of you and collect your toys like some cosmic repo man. There's a rather important difference, you see."
The god of mischief snarled with wounded pride and lunged forward, his scepter crackling with Mind Stone energy that should have been able to influence thoughts, bend wills, turn enemies into obedient puppets—
Instead, it sparked harmlessly off Harry's armor like raindrops on adamantine as the fully-integrated Soul Stone created an impenetrable barrier around his consciousness, its mastery complete and terrible in ways that his wives' partial attunements could not yet match.
"What?" Loki gasped, genuine shock replacing his usual theatrical arrogance. "That's impossible! The power of the Mind Stone should—"
"Cosmic forces, you theatrical twat," Harry explained with devastating British politeness before moving with speed that blurred even to enhanced senses. His armored fist connected with Loki's jaw with enough precisely controlled force to send the god flying across the platform like a ragdoll. "They tend to trump parlor tricks and basic mind magic."
*Harry,* came Hermione's concerned voice through the mental link, though he could sense the strain of maintaining the telepathic network without full Mind Stone integration—like trying to hold together a house of cards in a hurricane, *do try not to kill him outright. He might possess useful intelligence about our true enemy.*
*Wasn't planning on it, love,* Harry replied, dodging a desperate swing of the scepter with fluid, almost contemptuous grace. *But the dramatic tosser is being remarkably stubborn about surrendering. Some people have no sense of when they're thoroughly outclassed.*
*Kick his arse, Harry!* Tonks called out cheerfully through the link as she wrestled with another Leviathan, her mental voice bright with bloodthirsty enthusiasm. *Show the poncy git what happens when you mess with the Potter family!*
*Do try to be professional, dear,* Daphne chided with aristocratic amusement, though her own mental voice carried warm approval. *We are representing Death itself, after all.*
*I can be professional and still enjoy watching Harry systematically dismantle an arrogant god,* Susan added with warm satisfaction. *It's called multitasking.*
Meanwhile, the battle raged around them with cinematic intensity. Thor's hammer Mjolnir sang through the air, each strike calling down lightning that turned the sky electric blue. The god of thunder moved like a force of nature, his long blonde hair whipping in winds of his own creation as he carved through Chitauri ranks with divine fury.
*Brother!* Thor's mental voice suddenly joined their network, rich with concern and centuries of complicated family dynamics. *I know Loki's crimes are many, but he is still family. Please, try to leave him breathing.*
*I make no promises,* Harry replied with grim humor. *Your brother has remarkably poor timing and even worse judgment.*
Steve Rogers' shield sang through the air like a metallic discus, ricocheting off alien forces with mathematical precision before returning to his hand. Even through the chaos, his tactical mind was coordinating rescue efforts, his commanding voice cutting through the din of battle.
*Civilians are clear from sectors seven through twelve,* Steve reported with military efficiency. *Natasha, how's your situation?*
*Complicated,* came the Black Widow's reply, her mental voice carrying deadly focus as she moved through the urban battlefield like liquid shadow. *These Chitauri are more organized than standard alien invasion forces. Someone's coordinating them.*
*That would be the theatrical prince I'm currently beating into submission,* Harry observed, catching Loki's wrist and twisting with enough force to make the god cry out. *Though I suspect he's more middle management than actual leadership.*
*Hulk smash puny aliens!* came an unexpectedly coherent mental bellow from the green giant, followed immediately by the sound of something very large and very alien being reduced to component atoms.
*Well, that was surprisingly articulate,* Tony observed with genuine surprise. *Usually it's just roaring and property damage.*
*Big green guy's got hidden depths,* Clint added dryly, his arrows finding impossible targets even as he provided overwatch from a precarious perch. *Who knew?*
Loki rolled to his feet, ichor trickling from his split lip, and Harry was struck by how genuinely terrified the god looked. Not of Harry himself—though that fear was certainly present—but of something else entirely. Something his Soul Stone perception could read like an open book written in letters of fire and shadow.
"You don't understand, you ignorant mortal," Loki hissed, raising the scepter defensively even as his hands trembled with barely controlled fear. "If I fail, if this invasion fails, *he* will come personally. And when Thanos comes calling, your pathetic little world will burn regardless of your cosmic delusions."
"See, that's where you're catastrophically wrong, your royal drama queen," Harry said, advancing with predatory grace that would have made Death herself proud. His fully-mastered Soul Stone showed him every flicker of emotion in Loki's fractured spirit—the terror, the desperate need for approval, the crushing weight of never being enough. "Because we're not from this world at all. We're from somewhere else entirely, somewhere that's already burned. And we're here specifically to ensure that purple megalomaniac never gets his oversized purple hands on the Infinity Stones."
"Impossible," Loki breathed, his theatrical composure cracking like thin ice. "The Stones are beyond mortal comprehension. Even the greatest sorcerers of the Nine Realms fear their power—"
His words cut off abruptly as Harry's helmet retracted with a whisper of cosmic technology, revealing features that belonged in Renaissance paintings—strong jaw, emerald eyes that held depths of power and pain, dark hair that caught the light like spun shadow. The Soul Stone's orange glow was reflected in those impossible green eyes, marking him as something that transcended mortal limitations entirely.
"You're Seidr," the god whispered with dawning horror and recognition. "I can sense it—magic that sings in your very bones, power that runs deeper than blood itself. But that's impossible. There are no Seidr left who could stand against the power of the Infinity Stones—"
"Not *a* Seidr, you poncy git," Harry interrupted with devastating British understatement, orange energy beginning to coalesce around his hands like liquid starlight as the Soul Stone responded to his will with perfect, integrated harmony. Unlike his wives, who were still learning to access their Stones' vast power, Harry's mastery was complete and absolutely terrifying. "I'm *the* Seidr. Master of the Deathly Hallows, Champion of Death herself, and currently very much annoyed at having my long-overdue reunion with my wives interrupted by megalomaniacal aliens with delusions of cosmic significance."
*Oh my God,* came Tony's voice through the mental link, practically vibrating with entrepreneurial excitement, *now THAT is a perfect superhero name. The Seidr. It's got gravitas, mystique, ancient power, and absolutely phenomenal branding potential. I'm talking multimedia franchise possibilities here.*
*Focus, Stark,* came Steve's dry response as he shield-bashed another Chitauri soldier into next week. *We've still got a battle to win and a city to save.*
*I can absolutely multitask,* Tony replied with injured dignity. *Besides, proper branding is essential for long-term team cohesion and public relations. It's basic corporate strategy.*
*The man has a point about branding,* Natasha observed with dry humor as she systematically dismantled another squad of alien invaders. *Though his timing could use work.*
Through the mental link, Harry could feel his wives' reactions to his dramatic moment—Hermione's intellectual fascination with the power dynamics at play, Daphne's aristocratic approval of his commanding presence, Susan's warm pride in his protective instincts, Luna's dreamy satisfaction with the cosmic poetry of the situation, and Tonks' bloodthirsty delight in watching him thoroughly dominate an arrogant god.
Loki raised the scepter desperately, but Harry was already moving with casual, overwhelming superiority. The Soul Stone's power flowed through him with an ease and completeness that his wives could not yet achieve—their own Stones still required time and effort to access fully, like learning to speak a new language of reality itself.
He caught the scepter with one armored hand, stopping Loki's desperate attack with contemptuous ease.
"You know what the truly hilarious thing is?" Harry asked conversationally, his Soul Stone perception reading the god's fractured spirit like a particularly tragic novel. "You're not even genuinely evil, are you? Just scared and desperate to prove yourself to father figures who couldn't care less about you if you were on fire. It's almost pathetic, really."
"How dare you psychoanalyze me, you presumptuous—" Loki began with wounded aristocratic fury, but Harry's other hand shot out with serpentine speed and grasped the god by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the expensive platform.
*Well, that's properly intimidating,* Tonks observed with obvious appreciation, her mental voice bright with admiration. *Look at our Harry go, all dark and dangerous and magnificently terrifying.*
*He does cut quite the impressive figure,* Daphne agreed with aristocratic approval, though her mental voice carried undertones of barely controlled desire. *All that controlled power and authority. It's rather... stimulating.*
*Ladies,* Hermione chided with fond exasperation, though her own mental voice carried warmth and pride, *perhaps we could save the detailed appreciation of Harry's intimidation techniques for after we've saved the universe?*
*Speak for yourself,* Susan added with gentle teasing. *I can multitask quite effectively. Besides, have you seen the way his armor enhances his shoulders? Absolutely magnificent.*
*Focus, all of you,* Harry said with fond exasperation, though his mental voice carried deep affection for his wives' eternal ability to find romance in the most inappropriate situations. *I'm attempting to conduct a professional interrogation here.*
"Here's what's going to happen, your dramatic highness," Harry said pleasantly, his voice carrying absolute authority backed by cosmic power that flowed as naturally as breathing. "You're going to shut down that portal like a good little prince, hand over that scepter without any more theatrical nonsense, and then we're going to have ourselves a nice, civilized chat about Thanos and his grand plans for universal genocide. In exchange for this cooperation, I won't let my wife with the Reality Stone turn your digestive system inside out in ways that would violate several laws of physics."
Loki's pale green eyes flicked past Harry to where Veritas was visible through the tower's reinforced windows, crimson energy dancing around her armored form as she struggled to maintain multiple reality alterations simultaneously—her power impressive but clearly requiring intense concentration and effort.
"She wouldn't dare," Loki said with significantly less conviction than his words suggested.
*Oh, I absolutely would,* came Susan's cheerful mental voice, though Harry could sense through their soul-bond her frustration at the Reality Stone's limited response to her will. *I'm still deciding between inside-out digestive tract or turning his bones into a lovely jelly consistency. Both have fascinating scientific applications that I'm eager to explore.*
Loki went several shades paler, which was quite an achievement for someone already possessing the complexion of fresh snow.
*Though it might take me several attempts to achieve the desired effect,* Susan added with honest self-assessment. *Still working out the more complex applications of reality manipulation. The learning curve is surprisingly steep.*
*Don't worry, love,* Harry said with warm affection. *I have complete faith in your ability to creatively torture arrogant gods once you've mastered your cosmic powers.*
*You say the most romantic things,* Susan replied with obvious pleasure.
"Your choice entirely, your highness," Harry continued pleasantly, though his grip didn't loosen in the slightest. Unlike his wives, his power flowed without hesitation or limitation, as natural as heartbeat or breathing. "But I should mention that my other wives include someone who can teleport you directly into the vacuum of space—eventually, once she's mastered the finer points of spatial manipulation, someone who can make you relive your worst childhood memories on infinite loop—assuming she figures out the more advanced telepathic controls, someone who can show you every possible future where you fail spectacularly—provided she doesn't get lost in the timestream herself, and someone who could punch you into low Earth orbit—if she doesn't accidentally punch straight through the planet's core first."
*We're a work in progress,* Hermione observed with dry academic humor. *But we're learning frightfully quickly.*
*Speak for yourself,* Tonks said with cheerful confidence, violet energy crackling around her as she engaged another Leviathan in what could generously be called 'aggressive negotiations.' *I've got the punching part down perfectly. It's the not destroying everything else that needs work.*
Through the mental link, Harry could feel his wives' fond amusement at his negotiation technique, mixed with the Avengers' varying degrees of shock, admiration, and well-founded concern. He could also sense his wives' fierce determination to master their respective Stones as completely as he had mastered his—they were already formidable even at a fraction of their potential power.
*Remind me never to get on your collective bad side,* Tony's mental voice was tinged with genuine respect and healthy fear. *That's some seriously effective intimidation backed by the kind of power that could reshape reality itself.*
*He's always been remarkably good with hostile negotiations,* Daphne observed with aristocratic approval, though her mental voice carried undertones of visible effort as she continued her increasingly complex spatial manipulations. *It's one of his more attractive qualities, actually.*
*Plus he's the only one of us currently operating at full cosmic power,* Tonks added with cheerful acknowledgment, her mental voice bright with pride and anticipation. *Show-off. But we'll catch up soon enough.*
*Indeed we shall,* Hermione said with determined confidence, though maintaining their telepathic network was clearly taxing her considerable abilities. *Give us time to properly integrate with our respective Stones, and we'll show the universe what true power looks like.*
*The cosmic balance is shifting,* Luna added dreamily, her mental voice carrying strange harmonics as she glimpsed fragments of potential futures. *I can see the threads of destiny rearranging themselves. It's quite beautiful, actually.*
Loki, faced with six cosmic-level opponents—one operating at absolutely terrifying full capacity and five others rapidly learning to access power that could rewrite the fundamental laws of reality—made the only intelligent choice available to someone with functioning survival instincts.
"Very well," he said through gritted teeth, his theatrical composure finally cracking completely. "The scepter is yours, and I'll shut down the portal. But you have absolutely no idea what you're truly facing. Thanos is not merely powerful—he's inevitable. He's cosmic entropy given form and purpose."
"Yeah, that's what they all say," Harry replied with devastating British understatement, taking the scepter with casual ease and immediately feeling the Mind Stone's power resonating with his Soul Stone like cosmic harmony made manifest. The synchronization between the two artifacts was immediate and perfect, his complete mastery allowing him to sense their fundamental connection to the universe itself. "Right up until they meet someone who doesn't particularly give a damn about their cosmic inevitability."
*Portal's still active,* Steve observed with military efficiency, his shield singing through the air as he coordinated the final evacuation efforts. *How do we shut this thing down permanently?*
Harry looked at the Tesseract with eyes that burned with orange fire, its blue radiance casting ethereal light across the damaged platform. With both the Soul Stone and Mind Stone now in his possession, he could feel the Space Stone calling to him from within its cubic prison like a siren song of infinite possibility.
"Simple enough, really," he said with casual confidence that spoke of absolute mastery. "We just need to—"
A massive explosion rocked the tower with seismic force as another Leviathan, apparently more intelligently guided than its fellows, crashed directly into the platform like a living missile. The impact sent debris flying in every direction and cracked the containment field around the Tesseract with the sound of breaking crystal.
*Harry!* five feminine voices chorused through the mental link simultaneously, filled with volcanic concern and immediate fury at anything that dared threaten their husband.
*I'm perfectly fine, loves,* Harry assured them with warm affection, shaking debris off his armor as he stood with unruffled dignity. The Tesseract was now free of its technological housing, glowing with increasingly uncontained spatial energy that made the air itself shimmer. *But we might have what could generously be termed a slight problem.*
The cube was pulsing erratically, its energy output increasing exponentially with each heartbeat. Without proper containment, it was becoming progressively more unstable, reality warping around it in visible ripples.
*How slight are we talking?* Tony asked with the tone of a man who had learned to expect the worst possible scenarios.
*The kind where it might accidentally tear a permanent hole in space-time if we don't get it under immediate control,* Harry replied with characteristic understatement, reaching for the artifact despite the dangerous cosmic energy crackling around it like caged lightning. *Nothing we can't handle, I'm sure.*
*That's not even remotely reassuring,* Natasha observed dryly.
The moment Harry's armored fingers made contact with the Tesseract, the Space Stone within responded to his fully-integrated Soul Stone with cosmic recognition, and suddenly his consciousness exploded across multiple dimensions simultaneously in a cascade of impossible sensation.
He could see the vast cosmic web that connected all realities like a infinite tapestry of light and shadow, feel the pulse of every star and the breath of every living thing across the multiverse. But more importantly—and significantly more troubling—he could see *him* with perfect, terrible clarity.
A massive purple figure sat on a throne carved from the bones of dead worlds, his eyes like dying stars fixed on Earth with the patience of geological time. Around him, the ruins of a thousand civilizations bore testament to his single-minded devotion to cosmic balance through universal genocide.
Thanos knew they were here. He could sense the Stones calling across the void.
And he was coming.
*Oh,* Harry said with characteristic British understatement as his consciousness snapped back to his own reality like a rubber band, *we're definitely going to need a significantly bigger boat.*
*What did you see?* Luna asked with serene curiosity, her Time Stone probably already showing her glimpses of approaching futures, though her visions came in beautiful fragments rather than the complete temporal mastery she would eventually achieve.
Harry looked at the Tesseract in his hands, now stable and responding to his will like an extension of his own cosmic power, then at the scepter containing the Mind Stone. Two Infinity Stones, both now under his complete control thanks to his mastery of forces that transcended mortal understanding.
And somewhere out in the cold dark between the stars, a titan who genuinely believed that mass murder constituted courtship was preparing to collect what he considered his due.
"I saw our real enemy," Harry said with grim certainty, the portal above them finally beginning to collapse as he asserted absolute control over the Space Stone with the same natural mastery he wielded over souls themselves. "And he's not going to be nearly as reasonable as our theatrical prince here."
*We'll be ready for him,* Daphne said with fierce determination, her spatial abilities flickering but growing visibly stronger with each passing moment. *Once we've properly mastered our respective Stones.*
*Indeed we shall,* Hermione agreed with scholarly confidence, though the strain of maintaining their telepathic network was becoming increasingly apparent. *We represent potential that he cannot possibly imagine or prepare for.*
*And we have our Harry already operating at full cosmic power,* Susan added with warm pride that heated Harry's soul like sunlight. *That's hardly insignificant.*
*Plus we're all bloody brilliant and devastatingly attractive,* Tonks added with cheerful pragmatism. *That's got to count for something in cosmic warfare.*
The Battle of New York was finally ending, alien forces retreating through the collapsing portal like a tide of metal and malice. But the war for the universe itself was just beginning, and for the first time in cosmic history, Death itself had chosen champions who understood that love was the greatest power in any reality.
Even if they were still figuring out how to use universe-altering artifacts without accidentally destroying everything they were trying to protect.
*Right then,* Harry said, his voice carrying across their mental link with absolute authority and unshakeable determination, *let's finish cleaning up this invasion and then figure out the most efficient way to murder a titan.*
*Now that,* Tony said with obvious entrepreneurial satisfaction, *is exactly the kind of marketing slogan that sells action figures and breakfast cereals.*
The Death Dealers were learning their power with each passing moment. Thanos had absolutely no idea what was coming for him.
And Death herself was smiling in the spaces between heartbeats, watching her champions prepare to remind the universe that love, properly motivated, could move more than mountains.
It could move the very stars themselves.
---
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