A/N: I debated posting this for a long time. Should I wait until Endgame came out and make it an alternate ending? Should I throw my hat in with all the "theories" floating around and post it now? Either way though, I wanted to control or otherwise edit a few of the things that happen after Endgame for other fics I have in the works. If you're reading this in the future, that starts in Chapter 3. As always, I appreciate comments.

Chapter Management

Tony Stark was dead.

"It has to be me Steve. Ever since I flew that bomb into the portal I've been waiting for this moment. Even if I've broken every good thing I've ever had to get here."

"Tony don't do it, he's too strong now!"

"Tell Pepper I loved her. Despite all evidence to the contrary."

The surface of the Blue Area of the Moon still glowed with the heat of his final, full power discharge. In the center of a new crater lay the crumpled remnants of the Iron Man suit. And over him, his armor dented and splintered and blackened by plasma burns, was the monster who put him there: Thanos.

Steve looked around the battlefield. At the foot of Thanos' throne, hastily built from lunar rock, was Nebula. Thanos had wasted no time striking his wayward child with a gravitational field, wreaking havoc on her cybernetic parts.

Two more of his comrades lay further away. When the Mad Titan struck Natasha, Bruce must have feared the worst. He unleashed the Hulk - and his anguish - upon Thanos, only to find his rage not enough to stop six Infinity Stones. Natasha hung on long enough to find him before the end. At least he had died as himself.

To Steve's right was a pile of broken glass once known as Thor, the God of Thunder. Resting in the middle was a small marble sculpture of a raccoon. Steve hadn't known Rocket for long, but he knew enough about the small creature and everything he lost to feel especially sorry for him.

Over his head, no longer tethered to the Moon's gravity, the powerless form of War Machine floated away, Rhodey still inside it. Beneath his feet somewhere was where the stone hands Thanos created had dragged Hawkeye out of sight.

He had long ago lost sight of Scott, but he suspected that Thanos hadn't. Even the mighty Captain Marvel, who in combining her efforts with Thor had nearly split the Moon in half during their battle with Thanos, quite literally went up in smoke.

Then there was him. Steve Rogers. Captain America. The First Avenger. The Last Avenger.

"Do you understand now, Captain Rogers?"

"I understand that this was never about saving anyone," Cap looked hard at Thanos. "It's about the killing. The only thing you've ever cared about was death."

"I am giving you the opportunity to leave with your life," Thanos gestured around him. "Your friends did not take it."

"And you know I won't either."

"But you still can. Your world can still use you. Why throw your life away needlessly?"

"Because as long as one man stands against you, Thanos, you'll never be able to claim victory."

"Noble sentiment," Thanos hefted his gloved hand up to display the pulsing gems. "But you will die for it. You can't stand against me."

Steve raised his shield. "I can do this all day."

"Foolish words," Thanos broke into a sprint. His fist impacted the shield, causing dust to fly across the lunar surface.

"But ones worth dying for," Captain America rolled back and hurled his shield. Thanos caught it, and the Vibranium crumbled in his fist.

"I disagree. Your death is part of my destiny. You may feel as though your sacrifices have meaning, but they're all fuel for a great machine. My machine."

Steve Rogers was pulled towards Thanos by an unseen force. Grabbing him by the head, Thanos slammed the First Avenger into the ground. And Captain America was no more.

Nebula felt the vibrations stop and knew it was over. With a small, unsatisfied smile her father returned to the throne. Now they were alone. Just her, him, and the angel.

He had been standing there since the battle began, a pale green glow emanating from his third eye. He wore flowing robes and a long cape. Nebula thought he looked familiar. He supposed she must have seen him every time Thanos beat her to within an inch of her life. Now he was here again, waiting for her to die. Or to fight her way out as she did so many times before. As if that were possible.

Thanos looked at the glove on his hand. It was finally over. The last dissonant chords written out of his symphony. He should be happy. The universe was finally saved. And he, its savior.

You will never be a god.

But something bothered him. The people of this universe let it get this bad. How was he to know they wouldn't squander this gift?

I had to.

No, you didn't.

He could do it again. Wipe out more. Keep taking half until they understood. But no, he realized. He couldn't. He nearly lost use of his arm controlling all Six just once. He wouldn't survive a second. It was too great a risk.

What did it cost?

No. He had not yet sacrificed everything. He still had one last thing to give. A meaningless pittance compared to all that had come before, but one he was prepared for. He would gladly give his mortality for this cause.

Nebula felt the deepest feeling of dread yet, as though the very life inside her was being ground by a great moving object. Slowly, and then swiftly, the stars began to rip across the sky, converging in a point far away. On his throne Thanos looked upon the display with intense concentration. At last his body went limp and his eyes glazed over.

Before Nebula the stars and galaxies spun into shape. The shape of Him. Thanos, the omnipotent, Thanos, the everywhere. Thanos, the God.

Through a single painfully grimaced eye, she looked at the angel. He looked at her, then angled his head towards the throne. His eyes had a manic fire in them. She followed his gaze, to the Gauntlet sitting on Thanos' unconscious arm…

Thanos always hated the gods. If they held so much unfathomable power, why couldn't they do what he did? Why couldn't they keep the universe in check?

Now he was better than any god, or Celestial, or anyone. Now he could feel the entire universe writhe within him. Across the length and breadth of all creation, he was the one constant. He was Eternity.

He could sense the humans on Earth shuddering in their homes, still failing to grasp the extent of their grief. He could feel the bodies of the Avengers lying on the lunar surface where they had once misguidedly crusaded against him. He could feel his hated daughter, still receiving her punishment for failing him time and again, crawling across the ground, leaping at…

No.

With the force of a shattering multiverse Thanos screamed silently and roared down to his physical form. Eternity, however, would not turn out to be enough time.

With a surge of strength she would never quite understand, Nebula ripped the Infinity Gauntlet from its master's hand. Instinct commanding deed, she thrust her hand into the metal glove…

…And found herself in an orange-tinted dreamscape. As far as her vision reached, the ground was covered in an inch of absolutely motionless water. And before her was a sight that made her fall down into great heaving sobs.

"You did it, sister," Gamora smiled, tears forming in her eyes as well.

"How is this possible?"

"A Soul for a Soul," Gamora helped Nebula to her feet. "Thanos' arrogance lead him to believe it was my soul he forfeited by casting me from that cliff, and not his own. I sat in here watching it, every step twisting it further."

Her eyes glowed amber and she looked up.

"Until at last I found it. A seed of doubt beneath all that perverse sense of justice. Thanos' primal fear. If that could be manipulated, he could make a mistake. And someone could get here."

Nebula smiled, and for the first time in a long time it wasn't a bitter smile. "And it worked. I'm here."

Gamora waved her arm. "We're all here."

Around the two sisters appeared the shadowed forms of what Nebula knew to be trillions and trillions of people. The sensation of all their souls resonating as one was overwhelming.

"I know what we have to do."

"And you have the Infinity Stones," Gamora nodded. "All that is left is to make it so."