Chapter 884: Smack! You Won, But I Didn’t Lose
Thanos won?
Our side was defeated?
In low orbit, where thousands of warships of every conceivable class were stacked in layers, barrages fell like hail and gale-force currents churned. The coalition’s super soldiers, led by Gladiator of the Shi’ar Imperial Guard, were gliding back. As they slowly descended onto the surface fortress, Stark immediately realized how dire the situation was.
The atmosphere was heavy. A group of super soldiers who had looked majestic before departure now lay sprawled on the ground—some missing arms or legs, others vomiting mouthful after mouthful of blood. Not one of them was uninjured.
Some were even wailing uncontrollably—those clad in black-and-gold skintight battle suits with golden full-helmets marked by red starbursts.
Stark recognized them. The Nova Corps—an interstellar vigilante organization, a renowned cosmic defense force.
It was no secret that their homeworld, Xandar, had been massacred by Thanos. Driven by vengeance, they had been the most fervent in their efforts to destroy the Black Order. And for them to kneel here in such anguish and self-reproach, there could only be one explanation—defeat...
Stark could tell the difference between tears of joy and tears of despair.
"How could we have lost? What exactly happened?"
Like a routed soldier muttering to himself, Stark mumbled under his breath. He looked helplessly toward his erudite mentor in mysticism—Avicebron, who commanded the golem legions and the mechanical forces constructing the hive-city fortress.
The Divine Empress Order—Heracles the Strong, the great hero Achilles, the Beast Goddess Gorgon, General Esdeath... the Anti–Black Order Covenant Alliance—Gladiator of the Shi’ar Imperial Guard, Quasar... the Nova Empire’s Super-Nova warriors... the Kree Empire’s Accuser Corps...
With such a formidable lineup, how had they lost?
He could not comprehend it.
Is this how you repay the countless people who placed their hopes in you?
"It seems Master and the others miscalculated. Perhaps..."
Murmuring softly, Avicebron remained extraordinarily calm. His golden mask tilted slightly, facing the visibly anxious Stark and Bruce Banner. "Perhaps this battle truly is lost. Stark, Banner, my suggestion is that you board a shuttle and return to the fleet. Withdraw from here."
"Retreat?!" Dr. Banner exclaimed. "What about you, Mentor?"
"Avicebron, just what do you know...?" Stark’s tone hardened. "Retreat? Do you understand what that means? If we’ve been defeated, Thanos—with all six Infinity Stones—will kill half the life in the universe!"
"I know. But so what?"
Avicebron’s voice was steady. "Life will not be extinguished entirely. Loss, hatred, anger—as long as someone still clings to the past, the future will never truly be accepted." He pointed toward the sky. "Moreover, if this is truly a failure, the Swirl of Honkai will not sit idle."
He suspected this had all been a scheme orchestrated by the Empire’s high-ranking Inquisition and military leadership—by Esdeath herself—but he had no evidence, nor did he wish to pursue the reasoning further.
If it truly was a failure...
Those who would suffer were the executors. Competitive and relentless, Esdeath would surely find a way to make a comeback, perhaps even drawing the close gaze of that existence in the Immaterium above. With a predator’s heart, she would never let the matter rest.
"Then why hasn’t She acted already? Aren’t the lives being slaughtered Her believers?" Stark demanded, unwilling to accept it.
"The ’gods’ of the universe are not unique. Nor are universes or dimensions singular. What is infinity? An infinite number of infinities raised to infinite dimensions."
The ’god’ he referred to was the abstract entity Death, whom Thanos both served and adored. With his breadth of knowledge, Avicebron could easily judge that this universe was far from ordinary.
But could he openly state that the Divine Empress Order was in truth a strike cruiser detachment subordinate to the Inquisition of the Sacred Selene Empire—interlopers from beyond, vanguards of an extraterritorial invasion? That the Root Divine Empress sought to devour the gods of this universe—and the entirety of its existence—down to absolute nonexistence as a mere snack?
He could not.
The moment each Servant stepped down from the Throne of Heroes, a forbidden mark anchoring them into their Spirit Origin had already been imposed.
"The universe is but a drop in the ocean. You and I are dust—far too insignificant." Unwilling to elaborate further, Avicebron shook his head and gestured for Stark to leave—either depart this place or continue with his own duties.
"Will you withdraw with the fleet?"
"No. My orders are to live and die with this hive-city." Avicebron pointed toward the Servants who had returned from the cosmic battlefield to recuperate—Heracles, Scáthach, the Old Man of the Mountain—wounded and battered, along with several Caster-class Servants arranging defensive formations. "Including them."
"That’s sending you to your deaths."
Stark was no fool. In an instant, he understood. The upper echelon of the Divine Empress Order had never intended for these ’super soldiers’—the heroes and figures of ancient Earth’s history and myth, as he suspected—to survive.
"Why?" he asked.
There was no reply. Avicebron stood with hands clasped behind his back. His gold-ringed fingers tapped lightly like a conductor’s baton. Across the horizon, the surging golem army rolled forward, submerging over a dozen Vanguard obelisk-shaped landing craft that stood like towering peaks.
"..."
Stark’s expression flickered between light and shadow, conflict and struggle warring across his face.
On one hand was his sense of justice—he could not stand by and watch half the life in the universe be annihilated. On the other was deep-seated doubt. He did not want to die. He was afraid. He had promised Pepper a grand wedding. He had already broken that promise once by postponing it. He did not want it to become a permanent regret.
Finally—
"I’m staying." Gritting his teeth and stamping his foot, Stark forced out the decision.
"As you wish." Avicebron cast him a sidelong glance.
This apprentice possessed remarkable talent—breadth of knowledge, a spark of inspiration, an obsessive drive for research. In the Age of Gods, within the Empire’s territory, he would have earned the favor and mentorship of many venerable scholars, sorcerers, magi, and high officials within the scientific bureaus. That was why he had offered the reminder.
Better to think of preserving your own life. The road ahead is long. If we die, it matters little—we can fight again. But you? That may not be the case.
Since Tony Stark insisted on staying, Avicebron would not obstruct him.
The friendship of gentlemen is as plain as water.
"We have to stop Thanos. Mentor, do you have any way—if, I mean if, the fifth Infinity Stone is on some important figure and she’s defeated—could we hide the sixth Infinity Stone? Or even destroy it?" Stark said urgently, breathing hard.
"In theory, it is possible." Avicebron nodded. "What do you intend to do?"
Master’s instructions had been far too broad. There had been no requirement to win, no mandate to hold the line, no explicit directive regarding the Mind Stone. Only that they were to live and die with the hive-city fortress and, if necessary, detonate the planet’s core reactor. Nothing more.
"Destroy the Infinity Stones."
Just as Stark was about to speak, a tall figure approached, his expression grave. "Against Thanos, who wields the Space Stone, hiding is meaningless. Where is the last Infinity Stone? Destroy it. That is the only way we can delay him—buy even a little time. The sooner, the better."
"A desperate measure," Avicebron said quietly. "Let us hope Lady Gorgon can hold out long enough."
The sharply contoured purple face was etched with exhaustion. His mohawk was disheveled, like a rooster defeated in combat. The high-collared cape that once cut such a dashing figure was gone. Across his body were horrific dents left by energy lightning, crisscrossing in ruin. His flesh was torn, his skin split.
Compared to the confident, unstoppable cosmic superman he had seemed before, he had changed greatly—grown far weaker...
That was Stark’s thought, but now was not the time.
"Master has already transferred the Mind Stone to the secret vault deep within the hive-city’s planetary core," Avicebron said.
"Destroy it. Scatter its fragments across the universe. We all flee in different directions. Even with dominion over Time, Thanos will not be able to restore it quickly."
With his super-hearing, Gladiator caught every word of the conversation. The talk of gods and universes seemed normal enough to him, but the handling of the Stones reminded him of something.
He knew clearly that the moment he had come here, he had already lost. A lack of confidence was catastrophic for him.
"...Hah." With a faint sigh, he looked at Scáthach and the Old Man of the Mountain. "We cannot guarantee victory, but this is our final safeguard." His photon energy. Scáthach’s inevitable killing strike. The Old Man’s instant death. "And you."
He pointed toward the Phoenix of the former X-Men.
"Me?"
Jean Grey blinked.
"Yes. If my perception is not mistaken, your power is ancient and formidable. Though you are but one of its countless hosts, the nature of the Phoenix is enough to destroy Thanos."
The Phoenix Force hailed from the primordial universe, born at the dawn of all things. It was renowned across civilizations—Shi’ar, Skrull, Kree. Across hundreds of thousands of years of recorded history, there had been hosts of the Phoenix Force. Dangerous. Lethal. Powerful. Prone to losing control. Inclined toward self-destruction.
Jean Grey was merely the host of the past century. Gladiator understood why the Divine Empress Order had not allowed her to take the field. She was too inexperienced. Against Thanos, she would face only two outcomes—instant death or catastrophic loss of control.
"Lady Gorgon has not yet—" Heracles began, gripping his bloodstained axe, but suddenly froze. A few seconds later, he nodded. "Master has agreed."
There was no time for argument. Led by Avicebron, they passed through layers of sealed gates within the hive-city fortress. After stepping onto a teleportation platform and enduring a dizzying sensation like a blow to the back of the head, they opened their eyes.
They stood within a vast, dark chamber.
There were no doors. No stairs. No corridors.
At the center of the darkness floated a dim yellow glow—the core of calamity.
"Begin."
Gladiator struck his fists together first. Blazing photon lightning erupted and crashed toward the Mind Stone.
Hummmm—!
In an instant, the darkness turned as bright as day.
"Gáe!"
The demonic crimson spear shrieked as it pierced forward. A radiant red beam lashed across the Mind Stone like a ribbon of blood.
"Evening Bell."
The Angel of Death swung his blade with plain simplicity.
Screee—!
The fiery cry of a phoenix.
The aftershock of the immense impact swept through the enclosed space. Blazing energy roared like a furnace. The temperature surged higher and higher.
...
"Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and unto God what is God’s. You should not exist in this world."
Heat waves blew through Stark’s dry hair. His burning face throbbed strangely. Heat and pain made sweat pour down his back. He muttered under his breath, staring unblinking at the mysterious power surging between Gladiator, the Servants, and the Mind Stone.
It had to be destroyed.
Stark closed his eyes, running simulations in his mind—if Gorgon fell, if Thanos arrived, enraged, killing him step by step.
"Pepper, forgive me for breaking my promise... If I come back, I’ll give you a wedding that lasts a century."
"Interesting. Cowardice and courage, baseness and nobility, clinging to life and embracing sacrifice—your soul shines so brightly, so unpredictably, Stark."
Who?!
A voice pierced his thoughts. Stark’s body tensed, trembling—whether from fear or tension, he could not tell.
Riiiip—!
A flash of light.
Heat flared across his back.
Crack! The nanotech armor shattered helplessly before such overwhelming force. By the time he regained awareness, he had already slammed heavily into the ground. Pain screamed across his face, but he clung to consciousness.
He saw it.
A rupture had split the sealed chamber.
A massive spatial fissure, as though winding from the surface fortress down to the mantle, filled his vision—collapsing, writhing.
A towering figure stepped out.
Shining purple skin. Gleaming golden half-armor with black-green accents. On his left arm—a radiant gauntlet set with five stones: purple, blue, red, orange, green. And in his hand, lifted by the head—Thor.
"Thor..."
Stark’s eyes widened. It was his first time seeing this cosmic tyrant up close—the universe’s number one terrorist.
"You know me?"
"Of course. You’re not the only one cursed with knowledge."
"Thanos!"
Within the vault, Nova warriors launched attacks without hesitation. Long beams of energy streaked past him, forming a devastating multicolored storm.
"So this is your plan? Destroy the Stone? Cowardly. Useless."
Thanos moved as though on a leisurely outing. With a casual lift of his hand, red light, blue light, green light flashed.
Humm!
All of it occurred in less than an instant. Thanos seemed never to have moved. The remaining Nova warriors exploded into fragments—helmets, bone, and flesh scattering in every direction.
The shockwave shattered Kree and Shi’ar formations. Many were reduced to ash on the spot. More were grievously wounded, limbs flying through the air.
"Knowledge—is this how you wield your knowledge?!"
Recovering—unaware he had just been frozen in time—Stark roared. His palm repulsors flared, nanites assembling into the form of a massive electromagnetic cannon—only to be drenched in blood as he was hurled away once more.
He coughed blood as he lay on the ground. Agonizing pain radiated from his chest and side. Several ribs had been shattered by the aftershock. His HUD displayed catastrophic loss—sixty percent of his nanites gone in an instant.
The gap was too vast.
He was merely human.
And Thanos, in this moment, was a god.
A god bearing the name of death.
"Too late!" Gladiator roared in fury.
How could Gorgon have fallen so quickly?!
"It’s the authority of Time—damn it..."
In less than a second, corpses carpeted the floor. Emerging from temporal stasis, Heracles had no time to assume his stance before Thanos raised his left hand. Orange soul-light ignited.
Heracles, Scáthach, the Old Man of the Mountain—the remaining Servants felt their Spirit Origins twist in agony. Their bodies flickered violently, faces contorted in pain.
Their spiritual cores had been destabilized. Without sufficient cosmic energy to counterbalance, their forms became as fragile as porcelain. Any further release of mana or Noble Phantasm would shatter them outright. With regret, they dissolved into drifting motes of light.
"...How beautiful. I would love to study it," Avicebron murmured calmly, his gaze fixed on the Infinity Gauntlet.
"Hmph. I’m certain now—this was a trap." (Imperial Common Tongue)
Her magic spear fading, limbs already dissolving, Scáthach turned leisurely to meet the eyes of her vanishing comrades.
"A delightful experience. Perhaps upon returning, I shall truly step down from the Throne of Heroes and leave the capital. I hope that one will grant it without stinginess."
"I share that thought," the Old Man replied.
As for Gladiator, still straining against the Mind Stone—
"You—?!"
The Servants’ collective departure shattered what remained of his confidence. To the surviving members of the Anti–Black Order Covenant Alliance, it was a devastating blow.
They did not hear the Servants’ cryptic remarks about clocking out. They saw only Thanos raise his hand, a spark flash—and the battle-hardened warriors of the Divine Empress Order were instantly executed.
"I said before—regardless of status, everyone has a fifty percent chance to live in the new world."
With a casual strike, he blasted Jean Grey—still frozen by the Time Stone—away. Ignoring Gladiator’s desperate resistance, he reached for the Mind Stone. With a brutal crack, he tore Gladiator’s arm free, bone and sinew ripping out in a grotesque chain.
"Kallark."
After toppling the mountain named Gorgon, Thanos looked upon the rest with disdain. Gladiator—the foe who had once dealt him his greatest defeat—now seemed nothing more than rubble.
From on high, he set the Mind Stone into place. Yellow energy flooded his eyes.
He stood before them, arrogant and cold. No—everything in the present world was under his control.
"I am connected to all things."
"I can see. I can do."
"No..." Stark reached out, his voice breaking.
"Fear. Escape. All meaningless, Stark. Fate always arrives. Now—it is here."
He pressed his thumb against his middle finger. His little finger and ring finger curled naturally. He raised his left hand clad in the Infinity Gauntlet.
Hummmmmmmmmm—!!!
Purple, blue, red, orange, green, yellow—the six primordial authorities of the universe manifested once more. The void emitted a bone-chilling shriek.
No one saw it clearly.
Yet everyone felt it.
In the most terrifying way.
Snap!
"..."
"..."
"..."
It seemed as though nothing had happened.
And yet everything had.
A breeze passed through.
It scattered the ash rolling across the ground.
Rustle.
The Stones still shone.
Thanos silently stroked the Infinity Gauntlet, its surface now charred and cracked.
He had succeeded.
But...
Why did it feel so empty?
"It seems you were not chosen, Stark." Thanos glanced once more at the shattered, bloodstained armor. Inside—there was nothing.
"Death... the mission You granted me is complete."
As Thanos murmured about his retirement, beyond the heavens—
"Thanos of Titan!"
Towering shadows pierced across space and time, stretching to his feet and engulfing him.
—
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