a/n: Well, what do we have here? A filler chapter? Well, it has to happen now & then. Just couldn't quite get these "minor" events to line up in a way that fit with some of the other stuff that's coming – but these things needed to be told. So, here we are with a brief chapter filled mostly with foreshadowing, to tide y'all over until what comes next (which I promise will be meatier; just can't guarantee when, exactly). Enjoy, and let me know your thoughts – I love hearing your theories & reactions, and your kind words mean more to me than you guys may ever realize. Pleasant reading!

Chapter 7: Searching for the Secret Sauce

After lunch, Morgan followed Rocket back to the hostel with her full backpack at the ready. She went in the raccoon's room and, as instructed, laid the three capsules of arc energy on the bed. Rocket picked up one of the capsules and looked at it with interest. Finally, he nodded and set it back down. Wordlessly, he made his way to his closet where he pulled out a large storage box. After some clattering and clanging, he tucked two capsules under his arm and carried them over.

"Here ya go," Rocket told the girl, handing over the capsules.

Morgan looked at them carefully. "Wow," she said softly, fascinated by the swirling red energy within them. She put both of them in her backpack, zipped it up, and slipped it on her back. "Thanks, Rocket."

The raccoon nodded before grabbing the three capsules Morgan had brought him and took them over to the storage contained. He deposited them before shoving the container back in his closet.

"What are you gonna do with all those?" Morgan asked, jerking her head toward where who knows how many other capsules of energy and magic were stored.

Rocket beamed at her, his canines catching the light just right. "Savin' 'em for a rainy day," he told her. Morgan eyed him curiously but when she realized he wasn't going to divulge anything else, she shrugged and walked out, heading directly for her lab.

Before following Rocket from the lunch room, Morgan had told Shuri to meet her in the lab. She was kind of surprised that the other girl hadn't beat her there, but she was certainly due to arrive any minute. Meanwhile, Morgan paced. She kept her eyes on the large box that Shuri had delivered earlier. It sat in the middle of the floor and Morgan could feel her heart hammering in her throat as she eyed the package.

Then, she heard the keypad beep and the door slid open. Morgan bounded to the bottom of the stairs, smiling up at Shuri as she descended.

"Hi!" Morgan squealed, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling her into a hug. Shuri giggled as Morgan released her and dragged her to the center of the room, where the two capsules of energy were sitting on the tabletop, waiting.

Shuri stopped in her tracks and glanced from the makeshift batteries to her friend and back. "Is that—"

"Wanda's power?" Morgan supplied proudly, nodding. "Vision was originally powered by the Mind Stone, and that's where Wanda got her powers, right?"

Shuri nodded absently, reaching for a capsule but stopping with her fingers just inches away, looking hesitant.

"I wasn't sure how to stabilize it. But when Loki got here, he said that my dad's arc energy is self-sustaining. . ."

"Wait," Shuri interrupted, glancing at her friend. "You want to use both Wanda's energy and arc reactor power?"

Morgan's head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. "I ran the numbers." She turned her clunky laptop to face Shuri and pointed to a chart. "We can use Wanda's energy to provide a kick-start. Then, we switch over to this—" she held up a small piece of metal, which resembled the original electromagnetic device that had kept her dad's heart functioning, "—arc reactor." Pointing, to the capsules, Morgan explained, "The reactor will absorb the Wanda-power and convert it into a different kind of energy contained within the reactor." Morgan smiled, her honey-brown eyes shining with cleverness. "Then, Vision will have his own internal power-source."

Shuri clicked through the data on Morgan's computer and examined the small reactor, which Morgan had crafted herself based on her dad's original designs – plus, a few upgrades to make it sleeker and more modern, of course. Shuri then regarded the capsule of red energy. A small smile started at the corner of the Princess's mouth and, after a moment of consideration, she was nodding her head vigorously. "This," she said slowly, cautiously, "just might be crazy enough to work."

Morgan grinned at her. "Then what are we waiting for?"

And so, they each grabbed a crowbar and started to pry open the box that was serving as makeshift coffin. Once the lid was loose, they both sighed, smiled, and got to work.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

With all the excitement, Wong had completely forgotten to discuss his time at the other Sanctums with Strange. Of course, his fellow Master had very clearly been previously engaged, so the oversight was understandable on both parts. As lunch was winding down, Wong waved the Sorcerer over. Strange approached him with suspicion, narrowing his eyes at his friend. Wong held his hands up in defense.

"I just wanted to give you the run-down on the other Sanctums."

Stephen didn't let up his glare for another few seconds before finally relaxing his face and nodding once. "Let's go somewhere private."

Wong nodded in agreement and followed Strange to his room. Once inside, the Cloak of Levitation barely got out of the way before Stephen dropped down into the armchair in the corner of the room. Wong sat across from him, on the edge of the bed. They stayed quiet for a moment before Stephen finally let out a heavy sigh, ran his hands over face, and leaned forward.

"So, what's the news from the other Masters?"

Wong let out a sigh of his own, not quite as weighted as his friend's was. "For the most part, it was just the regular updates. Ya know, business as usual." Then he paused, before adding, "Except for this one thing."

Stephen perked up. "Yes?"

"A weird energy spike. That's what Hong Kong wanted to talk about, actually."

"What kind of energy spike?" Stephen couldn't remember any warnings coming across the Sanctum in New York.

"Don't know for sure. They said it showed up about a week or so ago? Lasted for only a couple seconds, then it went away. And they haven't seen it again since."

The doctor frowned. "Are they sure it wasn't just some anomaly?"

"The other Masters didn't think so. Mostly, they said they hadn't really seen anything like it. . ."

"I sense there's a 'but' coming," Stephen said cautiously, trying to read his friend's expression.

"But," Wong replied slowly, "one of the Masters did think it looked familiar – not exactly the same, but similar – a few years ago." Wong locked eyes with the other Sorcerer. "He thought it was like energy spikes that appeared during the Time Heist."

Instantly, Stephen's gray eyes widened. "That's. . . not possible. Is it?"

Wong shrugged. "How do I know? I'm no physicist or whatever." He gestured toward the Eye around Stephen's neck. "Besides, you're the guardian of Time and protector of Reality."

"Wha—but, you're a Master of the Mystic Arts, too! You're supposed to help me." Stephen blustered.

"Above my pay grade, Boss," Wong told him noncommittally. He leaned back, resting his elbows on Strange's bed.

Stephen closed his eyes and rubbed circles around his temples. "Fine, I'll ask Banner. Or Lang. Or. . . someone."

"Good luck with that," Wong said with a nod.

Strange glared at him. "You are the worst friend ever."

Wong sat up straight, smiling fondly. "I love you, too."

Stephen groaned loudly and threw himself back against the chair. He closed his eyes and remained still for a few moments.

Wong eventually broke the silence. In a lighthearted voice, he chimed, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Trying to decide if I have the ability to get out of this chair. Or if it's worth it if I do," the doctor answered honestly, smiling. His eyes were still closed, and he inhaled softly. Somewhat absentmindedly, he reached up and held the Eye of Agamotto between his fingers, tracing the lines of the relic. As he held it, he felt a sudden urge to use it. Of course, he had used the Time Stone before and the Eye was always with him, but he wasn't sure he had ever really felt such a calling from it. The sensation was odd. . . Almost distantly, Strange heard Wong take a deep breath. It pulled him back to the present moment. Perhaps the Eye would have to wait.

Playfully but somewhat hesitantly, Wong proclaimed: "I have questions."

"So do I," Stephen admitted. He lifted his head but stayed slouched. He picked at the threads on the arm of the chair. There were so many things racing through his head.

"I have questions," Wong repeated slowly and intentionally, forcing Stephen to look at him. "About you and Loki."

Stephen groaned. "Wong!" he all but whined. "I've already had my sex life dissected and mocked by everyone today. Can we please not?"

Wong's eyes widened and he leaned forward a bit with intrigue. "Who's been bugging you about your sex life?"

"I swear, I will throw my boot at you," Strange said, pointing at his friend. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. "That reminds me: Since when do you just barge into my room unannounced?"

"Hey, you're the one who didn't abide by the bro-code!"

Stephen cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Wong rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Oh, c'mon. You went to college. Everyone knows you're supposed to hang a sock on the door when you're. . ." his voice trailed off and he wiggled his eyebrows.

Stephen laughed in spite of himself. "Shut up," he groused.

"I didn't start it!" Wong argued. "But now that you've brought it up. . ." he paused, as if waiting for Stephen to stop him. When he didn't, Wong's face lit up in the most devious way. "Seriously – the library?"

"Ugh," Stephen groaned. "What is it with you and the library?" he asked dubiously.

"Well, it's not like it's the most obvious place that somebody would hook up!"

Stephen scrunched his nose up at the phrase, which only made his friend laugh. Then, Strange pounded his fist on the chair and leaned forward with intensity. "No. Actually. You know what? Why not the library? It's quiet. There's usually nobody around. And – I'm gonna say it," he threw his hands up as he proclaimed, "it's sexy as hell."

Wong's jaw dropped. He made Stephen jump when he suddenly leapt to his feet and pointed at the doctor triumphantly. "I knew it."

"Pfft. You don't know shit," Stephen grumbled, leaning back in the chair and looking away from Wong.

"I could see it when I looked at you. Actually, more like when you looked at him." Wong chuckled as he practically fell back on the bed. In a mocking tone, he sang: "Strange loves Loki, Strange loves Loki. . ."

In an instant, Stephen was next to him on the bed, punching him in the shoulder. "Stop that!" he ordered. Although, it wasn't very threatening since he was laughing.

Wong sat up and punched him back with a smile. "At first, when I walked in there, I thought you'd just had way too much to drink or that you might have been tricked. But then I saw your face; you were all moony-eyed and stuttering."

"I did not stutter," Stephen said guardedly, a pink tint showing on his cheeks.

Wong waved a dismissive hand. "Ooh-hoo-hoo!" He giggled. "You've got it bad."

With that, Stephen fell back on the bed, defeated. "What the fuck is wrong with me? I barely even know him. And what I do know is that he is – or at least he used to be – certifiable. I mean, he literally tried to take over the planet!"

"Aw, but he's so pretty," Wong chimed sarcastically, earning another slap on the arm.

Then, after a beat, Stephen softly stated, "He is pretty, isn't he?"

Wong practically rolled off the bed, guffawing.

"Shut up! This is serious," Stephen told him. "What is wrong with me?" he said again, more desperately.

Suddenly, Wong sat up and forced himself to look straight-faced. "Okay, let's figure this out. You're not some sappy romantic, so we can rule that out straightaway."

"Hey, how do you know that?"

Wong rolled his eyes. "Uh, because I've met you."

"So?" Stephen asked as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He folded his arms over his chest, pouting.

"You are the poster child of logic and pragmatism."

"That doesn't mean I can't be romantic," he argued.

"Maybe not," Wong conceded. "But it does mean that you're not gonna randomly fall head-over-heels for just any boob off the street."

"You have such a way with words," Stephen deadpanned, still laying on his back.

"I know, I'm a poet." Wong smirked.

"Do you think magic intermingles?" Stephen asked suddenly.

Wong tapped his chin thoughtfully for a minute. "As in. . .?" he trailed off, waiting for his friend to fill in the blank.

Strange threw his arm over his face. His voice was somewhat muffled as he spoke into the crook of his arm. "Loki said that his seiðr liked my magic. Like they were drawn together. . . Drawing us together."

There was a stretch of silence before Wong finally said, in a surprisingly serious voice, "Sounds like you're talking about soulmate type stuff."

Stephen sighed and sat up. "I'm probably overthinking things and just, being stupid."

Wong had this annoying habit of always seeming to know what Strange was really feeling, to hear what he didn't say. So he patted his friend's arm and addressed the question burning in the Sorcerer's heart. "It's most likely a two-way street, ya know."

Strange let out a soft laugh. "Meaning, you think that Loki feels as out of control as I do?" There was an ache of hope in his voice, and before Wong could respond, Strange pushed himself up off the bed and waved his hand dismissively. "Okay, we're not talking about this anymore."

Wong raised an eyebrow. "So. . . denial?"

Stephen hesitated only a second before nodding. "It's not just a river in Egypt, you know." With that, Wong sighed and allowed Strange to usher him out of the room.

As soon as the door shut behind Wong, Stephen sat down on the bed and grasped the Eye once more. Closing his eyes, he focused his energy on receiving the message he felt the relic was trying to convey.

There were several images that flooded his mind – of potential futures, each influenced by various decisions and events. Most seemed inconsequential.

But then something stood out. Stephen focused his attention on that particular timeline, letting it play out. Events unfolded in watercolor, showing a bleak future in which the Avengers found themselves in yet another battle for the fate of their world. Finally, with damage and desolation all around, Stephen couldn't help but shudder at the fact that only a fraction of them were still standing. They were all surrounded by scorched earth, facing off against an intimidating-looking being, shrouded in darkness. And there was another person there, someone unknown to Strange, in the middle of the battlefield, but that person was wearing Iron-Man gauntlets. Just as the menacing figure on the edge of the battlefield raised his hand, seemingly to finish off the Avengers, Stephen pulled away from the vision.

Blinking back to awareness, the Sorcerer found himself kneeling on the floor of his room and gasping. He focused on his breathing, trying to slow it down to avoid hyperventilating into a full-blown panic attack.

Once he'd calmed down reasonably, Strange leapt to his feet and opened the door. With a whistle, the Cloak quickly attached itself to the man's shoulders and then he took off down the hallway, searching for the people in leadership roles. Stephen may not be able to explicitly tell anyone about the futures he sees, but he could give clues and warnings. And since he basically just saw their world on the brink of destruction yet again, he sure as hell wasn't about to sit idly by and just let it happen.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

Nathaniel blinked back to consciousness slowly. They were still on board the Quinjet. His ear-piece was missing, which meant no JOCASTA. He looked down at his hands and saw that his gauntlets had been stripped away, too. Nathaniel let out a heavy sigh, which came out more like a groan because of the pounding in his head.

Carol was sitting with her head in her hands in one of the captain's chairs. She'd changed out of her 'hi, I'm Captain Marvel' get-up and was wearing camouflage cargo pants and a gray tee. She turned and looked at him when he stirred, catching his gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. It was the kind of look one would expect from Carol – that whole 'never-back-down, devil-may-care, I've-got-this, fight-for-what-you-believe-in' combo that she somehow managed to pull off without a hitch.

Nathaniel looked down at the floor as he smiled to himself, glad to know that some things never changed.

A zipper sounded to the right, and he knew before he looked up that it was Nebula. She was still in the black faux-leather (pleather?) pants and a silver tee-shirt, which she had just covered up with the black leather jacket that she was zipping. Nathaniel had long ago decided that Nebula was basically a badass biker chick, which even allowed for the lack of hair. He liked to think that the blue of her skin, with its metallic sheen, was a kind of cosplay for a rave she was going to for, like, a New Year's party. That way, he could at least try to pretend that she wasn't utterly terrifying and dangerous.

When their eyes met, she was staring him down. Of course, Nathaniel knew that the only reason he heard her was because she wanted him to – she wanted him to know that she was watching him, to remember that she could still kill him with her bare hands and without even breaking a sweat if she wanted to; and should the opportunity or occasion arise, she wouldn't hesitate to do just that. Nathaniel nodded his head slightly, letting her know he understood the silent threat, before looking away. He could still feel the heat of her obsidian gaze on him. Unlike Carol's curious stare, Nebula looked at Nathaniel (and most everybody else) like an obstacle to be eliminated – a bug to be quickly smashed underfoot.

Scott was nowhere to be seen, which was disappointing. Seeing the man alive was thrilling. Of course, Nathaniel had seen other versions of Scott in the various Earths he'd traveled to in the 'verse. But this one was the first in a long time who actually felt like Scott – the closest, it seemed, in character to the man Nathaniel had known. Plus, it appeared as though this Scott was not about to be departing any time soon (knock on wood).

Nathaniel heard a throat clear, as a pair of boots appeared on the ground in front of him. He groaned inwardly before slowly raising his head.

Maximoff was standing in front of him, wearing a confusing expression. She was inquisitive, wanting answers, for sure. But she also looked oddly pensive, almost. . . caring, or concerned. Nathaniel couldn't think fast enough to stop the scowl that settled on his face. He stared up at the woman, waiting. She blinked at him, her eyes owlish, before clearing her throat again.

"On the rooftop," she started. "You, uh. You said. . ." There was a long pause as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

Nathaniel sighed. "I said several things. So did everyone else. Do you have a point?" He mentally kicked himself. He should know better than to antagonize this woman. But the anger and hurt bubbling up inside made his decisions for him. Plus, he didn't have JOCASTA in his ear telling him to stop being a total dumbass.

"You seemed surprised," Maximoff began again, "to learn that Vision is gone?"

"That wasn't really the surprising part," he told her, leaning back against the hull of the jet.

Maximoff's lips parted slightly, as she let out a soft "ah" and nodded. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, certain that wasn't all she'd wanted to say. The Sokovian sighed, running a hand through her auburn waves. "What did you mean when you said that I am 'like this' even though Vision's not here?"

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. He was, admittedly, deeply conflicted. On the one hand, he knew this woman. He'd seen the rage and the chaos and damage she had wrought. Her volatile, explosive response to grief. Nathaniel knew the extent of her powers and the twisted way she used them; he remembered all those who suffered as a result of this one person. He knew what she could do, or had already done, or would do, or is still doing – depending on where you were in the Multiverse.

And yet. . .

And yet, this was not the same woman. This was someone else entirely. Someone who had not done any of those horrible things and, it seemed, was not about to. Just as Nathaniel had encountered several 'versions' of the people he loved (including times when they weren't so lovable), this was a completely different Maximoff. There didn't seem to be even the slightest hint of the unstable time-bomb he had known.

He had to wonder: Was that enough? Were the differences, the knowledge of those differences, enough to tone down his hatred of the woman? Because, in all honesty, it would never be gone – he would always hate and blame and, in many ways, fear Maximoff. But would it be possible to give this person, this Wanda, a chance to earn some semblance of redemption?

Maximoff was still staring down at him, waiting for a response. Nathaniel sighed. "You have a tendency to lose people," he told her plainly. "And when that happens, you don't really take it well."

It took only a second for understanding to set in. She scrunched her face up, looking distressed. "So, whatever horrible things you know me to have done," she said quietly, "it was from losing people?"

Nathaniel nodded solemnly. "You were poisoned by grief. You went mad with it." He considered telling her more – explaining that it wasn't just about Pietro or Vision. He almost told her about the life she and Vision had built and the happiness they'd found. . . about the children they'd had. She had been unable, unwilling, to accept the death of her children; had distanced herself from the man she loved and all her friends; splintered herself from reality. Nathaniel almost told her all of these things.

But he didn't. He held his tongue.

A chime rang out and Carol sat up straight, popping a crick in her neck before pulling on a headset. "Yeah?" she said into the microphone. "Hey. We're, like, 10 minutes out." She glanced backwards, eyeing Nathaniel somewhat wearily. "Mmhmm," Carol lowered her tone. There was a long pause, as whoever was on the other line was speaking. The Captain was turned just enough that Nathaniel could see her eyes widen. "I see," she mumbled, clenching her jaw. She bobbed her head up and down as she listened, muttering sounds to indicate that she was listening, "Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay. Riiiiiiiight," she drawled out the last word. With a heavy sigh, Carol said, "Got it. Over and out." Then, she pulled the headset off and stood up. Running a hand through her hair, she turned around.

"Nebula, can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked, gesturing toward the back of the jet. Nebula nodded and walked to the more secluded area. Passing by, Carol patted Maximoff on the shoulder. "Can you keep an eye on—" and then she jerked her head toward Nathaniel.

"Sure," Maximoff agreed. "Is everything okay?"

"I'll fill you in," Carol told her briskly before swooping past and disappearing into the back of the jet with Nebula – and, presumably, Scott.

Nathaniel looked back to the cockpit, wondering who had called Carol and just what they had said. It seemed to have set her on edge suddenly. Movement from his periphery made him turn again and he was surprised to see Maximoff, much closer now and crouching down directly in front of him. He instinctively pulled back a bit, which made her frown.

"Whatever I did – whatever you think I am going to do?" Her voice was soft, almost shaky. "I am truly sorry, and I hope to prove to you that the person I became in your world is not the person I am here." She looked at Nathaniel imploringly. The tone, even more than the words, gave Nathaniel pause. The auburn-haired woman actually sounded sincere, and the soulful gaze in her eyes almost made him want to believe her.

"I don't expect you to say anything," Maximoff told him with a soft smile. She stood up, looking down at him still on the bench. "I just wanted you to know my thinking."

Nathaniel nodded and forced a smile, albeit a small one. Before he could consider saying anything, the other three returned from the back of the jet. Nebula stepped forward, nudging Maximoff to the side. "Stand up," she ordered. As he did, Nathaniel saw that the Luphomoid had a rope in her hands.

"What's that for?" he had to ask.

Nebula only scoffed as she spun him around, pulling his arms behind his back and tying him up. Tight.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to glare at the assassin. He turned around once Nebula was finished binding him, focusing his attention on Carol and Scott. "What gives?"

The soft curiosity from earlier had faded from Carol's eyes, replaced now with an intensity that made Nathaniel want to squirm. Even Scott's demeanor had changed – neither carefree and chill, nor the bundle of nerves. Instead, he had his arms folded over his chest and was staring at Nathaniel with a blank expression, his mouth in a tight line.

"I'll only ask this once," Carol stated in a carefully measured tone. "So I want you to think very carefully about how you answer."

"Okay?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue.

Carol sighed. "Granted, you haven't told us very much. But of what you did tell us, how much was true?"

Nathaniel's gaze shifted amongst the quartet in front of him. "I don't understand? It's all true, Carol." When he saw her mouth twitch sideways, looking dissatisfied, Nathaniel hurried to dispel whatever concerns had overtaken them. "I'm from a different Earth. There's a threat that just about destroyed the world I knew. Once he started moving on to other timelines and realities, I decided to do the same. Danvers," he implored, "I've been traveling across the Multiverse, trying to get ahead of this thing."

"Trying?" Nebula queried. She narrowed her eyes. "Meaning, you've been failing?"

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply. "Technically? Yeah, I guess. Everywhere I go, I'm either too late, or we just don't have enough firepower."

"So, you're recruiting Avengers in every timeline, and what? Searching for the secret sauce, trying to figure out which team will be able to defeat this mysterious Big Bad?" Carol summed up dubiously.

"I promise, I will tell you guys everything. But we really need everybody to be in on this. Because, so far? Every team I've found hasn't managed to make a dent in this monster's plans. Nathaniel looking to Carol, conceding, "So yeah, I'm on a sort of Goldilocks mission to find the assemblage of heroes that's 'just right' to put an end to this, once and for all. Before even more 'verses suffer."

"How much time do we have?" Scott asked, still wearing that uncharacteristically neutral expression.

Nathaniel sucked in a breath and sputtered a little. "Uh, pfft. That's the thing. I don't know. It's not really an exact science."

Finally, Maximoff interjected. "Okay, I know you said you would fill me in. But I think that needs to happen now because I'm lost."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement. "Danvers," he said, pulling Carol's attention from Maximoff and back to him. "Is this about that radio call? Who radioed you? What did they say?"

Carol frowned. Bit her lip. Finally, she tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she inhaled. "It was Fury," she told the ceiling of the jet. Looking back down, locking eyes with Nathaniel, she continued: "This thing you're worried about? Well, sounds like it might actually be on the way. And as it stands, things are not going to end well."

"How does Fury know any of that?" Nathaniel asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Nebula cocked her hip to the side, resting a hand on it. "Strange," she stated plainly.

That made Nathaniel freeze. "He saw it?"

"I mean, I guess." Carol threw her arms out and let out a breathy laugh. "Listen," she stepped right up to the young man. "Something is barreling down on us and you know a hell of a lot more than you've let us think. You're more involved than you've led us to believe." The half-Kree woman's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you ready to tell us the truth?"

They stared at each other for a few moments, which ticked by painfully slowly. Finally, Nathaniel let out a breath he didn't completely realize he'd been holding. Keeping his voice as even as he could manage, he told the group the same thing he'd said before, "I will tell you what you need to know – once we have all the Avengers assembled."

Carol wiggled her nose, the corners of her mouth twitching. Then, she glanced to Nebula out of the corner of her eyes, giving a quick nod. And even though Nathaniel had an idea of what was coming, it still surprised him. It still hurt when Nebula knocked him over the head yet again, and the world faded to darkness.