Unknown Location - Encrypted Communication
"Mr. Loptr, it's already done," Talos reported into the secure communication device, his voice carefully neutral. "I've already convinced them that this is a good idea. Fury's suspicious, but the operation is moving forward."
"Good job," the voice on the other end replied—smooth, cultured, with that distinctive edge of superiority. "Don't worry. After you finish your job, after you play your part in this little drama, you can leave that miserable mortal planet. Find your new home, far from Kree patrols."
With that simple dismissal, the call was cut, leaving only a black screen.
Talos sighed deeply, staring at his reflection in the dark monitor. The weight of what he'd set in motion pressed on his shoulders.
For my people, he told himself. Everything for my people.
But the guilt didn't quite fade as he began preparing for the operation ahead.
Sanctuary IV - Thanos's Flagship
"Loki, I hope your plan will work," the voice rumbled through the chamber—deep, inevitable, carrying the weight of cosmic certainty. "If it doesn't, you know the consequences, don't you?"
"Don't worry," Loki replied, unable to keep the note of pride from his voice. "How can a plan made by me possibly fail? It's simply impossible."
There was a proudness in his tone that couldn't be hidden, a smugness born from genuine confidence in his own cleverness.
This is one of the wisest plans I've ever created, Loki thought, barely suppressing a self-satisfied smile. I'm quite proud of it, actually.
His plan was simple and genius at the same time—at least in his opinion. Elegant in its complexity, devastating in its execution.
Creating a war between Earth and Asgard wasn't difficult. Any fool could manufacture an incident, could spark a conflict. But the difficult part, the part that required real cunning, was keeping that war going for a useful amount of time.
After all, on one side you had Asgard—gods who could destroy Earth as easily as snapping their fingers, cosmic powers that had conquered the Nine Realms. And on the other side, you had Earth—a primitive world that could only suck their thumbs and wait for death when facing such overwhelming might.
At least, that had been true in the past.
But now? Now things were different. Deliciously, wonderfully different.
There was Borgin on Earth—the ancient enemy of Asgard, the frost giant capable of fighting Odin himself to a standstill. Loki had verified this personally. And there was Elric, who was apparently capable of defeating Borgin according to intelligence reports. Plus several other powerful individuals Loki had observed during his stay.
They were entirely capable of fighting Asgard to a standstill for a considerable time. Long enough to matter.
The conflict would force the Asgardian leadership to personally go down to Earth and deal with the threat. Odin, Hela, Thor all of them committed to a ground war.
That would give Thanos and his forces enough time to attack Asgard itself directly, to breach the defenses while the defenders were absent, and take what they needed: the Infinity Stones.
And with two Infinity Stones in his possession—the Space Stone and potentially the Time Stone—killing Odin should become possible. Difficult, certainly, but possible.
And after everyone important died in the chaos Odin, Hela, Thor, all the major obstacles to his rightful throne he, Loki, would enter the fight at the critical moment.
He'd appear with fresh forces, beat back Thanos's armies, and rescue Asgard at its worst moment. The hero returning in the darkest hour, when all seemed lost.
Becoming king after that would be the easiest thing imaginable. The grieving realm would practically beg him to take the throne.
Everyone would be happy with this outcome.
Well, naturally that didn't include the Asgardians who'd died, or the humans who'd be caught in the crossfire, or the Skrulls who were about to be betrayed.
Oh yes, the Skrulls. Although it was absolutely true that Thanos always kept his promises—the Mad Titan's word was legendary across the cosmos for its reliability—the premise was that the promise had to be given by Thanos himself directly.
Like the promise Thanos had made to Loki about supporting his claim to Asgard's throne. That was solid, binding, reliable.
As for the promise about giving the Skrulls a new home and protecting them from the Kree? That had naturally been promised by Loki himself, using Thanos's name.
And Loki's word was worth less than a Jotun's fart in a blizzard—which was to say, absolutely nothing at all.
Sorry, Talos, Loki thought without any real remorse. But you really should have verified the source of that promise more carefully.
177A Bleecker Street, New York - Sanctum Sanctorum
Elric looked at the old building before him, which from the outside appeared not much different from a normal, if slightly eccentric, townhouse in Greenwich Village.
The architecture was distinctly Victorian, standing out among its more modern neighbors. Mystery and age seemed to cling to its walls.
Looking at the address plate—177A Bleecker Street—it should definitely be this house. The Sanctum Sanctorum. Home of the Sorcerer Supreme.
After taking a deep breath to center himself, preparing mentally for whatever came next, he knocked on the door.
He didn't have to wait long. Soon, an elderly Asian man in traditional robes opened the door, his expression serene and knowing.
And before Elric could say anything, before he could introduce himself or state his purpose, the old man spoke.
"Please, this way," he said simply, already turning to walk toward the interior of the Sanctum.
"I wanted to—" Elric tried to explain his visit, but the old man didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge the attempt at conversation.
So Elric stopped talking and simply followed, recognizing that some form of mystical awareness was at play here. They already knew he was coming. Had probably known for days.
They navigated through corridors that seemed to shift subtly when you weren't looking directly at them, past artifacts and relics from a thousand civilizations, until they came to stand before an ornate door.
"Please," the old man said, gesturing toward what was clearly a portal rather than a normal doorway. The space beyond shimmered with golden light.
If this were before he got the Phoenix Force, he naturally wouldn't enter without extensive preparation, Elric thought carefully. Without backup plans, without contingencies, without at least a dozen escape routes planned.
And even after getting the Phoenix Force energy, he still wouldn't enter this door without any preparation at all.
This is just a clone he is controlling remotely. Not his real body. If something goes catastrophically wrong, he can just cut the connection and the loss will be minimal.
Although there's no obvious reason for the Sorcerer Supreme to do something hostile to him, in this world nothing can be guaranteed. Nothing is certain.
After getting Momonga's power, his confidence had swelled considerably. he felt nearly invincible. And then he was directly beaten and sent back to the past for three thousand years, admittedly by his own future self's, but still. That really taught him a valuable lesson about overconfidence.
Taking another breath, Elric stepped through the portal.
An ancient smell immediately entered his nose—incense, old parchment, herbs that had been carefully stored for centuries. And also the fresh scent of tree leaves, as if somewhere nearby a garden grew in impossible space.
His eyes naturally fell to the single figure sitting in the conspicuously minimalist room, brewing tea with practiced, meditative movements.
The Ancient One. The Sorcerer Supreme. Guardian of the Time Stone and Earth's mystical defender.
She looked exactly as he'd expected from the movies—serene, ageless, radiating quiet power that made the air itself feel heavier with potential.
"Please, sit, Mr. Elric," she said without looking up from her tea preparation, gesturing to the cushion across from her.
While sitting down in the indicated spot, Elric decided not to waste time with pleasantries or dancing around the subject. The Ancient One already knew why he was here—she could see the future, after all. Playing coy would just be insulting both their intelligences.
So he stated his goal directly, boldly, with the kind of audacity that had defined his entire approach to this reincarnated life.
"Supreme Mage," Elric said clearly, meeting her ancient eyes. "I want to take over the Earth."
The Ancient One's hand paused for just a fraction of a second in pouring the tea.
Then she smiled—a small, knowing expression that suggested she'd been waiting for exactly those words.
"Would you like some tea first?" she asked pleasantly. "This conversation may take a while."
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