Fear was a powerful protector. It had saved America time and time again from monsters and witches. It was strong enough to tear open the fabric of reality and grant her escape. But during her time at Kamar-Taj, she had learned to control it, to keep it in check. Now would have been a very good time to use that fear except for the fact that America no longer ran alone. She was part of a team now and she knew that she could not abandon them.
The shadowy tentacles held America tight, forcing her to stay on her knees, her arms chained by their magic to her side.
"Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?" the figure said as it emerged into the light. The monstrous shadows coalesced into the form of a man who bore the face of her most trusted friend and her betrayer.
Dr. Stephen Strange approached the downed heroes, black cloak billowing about him. He might have had Stephen's face, but there was no mistaking him for the same man. His face was gaunt, his features sharper, eyes darker. He looked incredibly sleep-deprived and probably cursed. "Well?"
"We're here for Dormammu," her Stephen said, gasping the words around the tentacle wrapped about his throat.
"He's not here," the other replied.
"Then he will be. Let us go so we can fight him."
The other Stephen started to circle them slowly as if sizing them up. America had to hope killing them wasn't his plan. "You're wasting your time. This is a dead universe. Universe Zero, population: one. There's nothing for you here. But you didn't answer my question. How did you get in?"
"Doesn't it concern you that if we can get in here, so can Dormammu?" Stephen asked.
"It's a simple question," the other said. "How did you get in?"
Oh boy. It was time to be brave. "It was me," America blurted out. "I made a gate." She glanced at her Stephen and saw the protest in his eyes. But he couldn't protect her forever. "I can travel the multiverse."
The light of curiosity sparked to life in his eyes. "Now that is very interesting."
"You're in danger," her Stephen said. "We've been tracking Dormammu across the multiverse and he's coming here. If this is all that's left of your universe, then it's you he wants. And if he gets in here, it's all over. Please, you have to trust me. We're on the same side."
The other Stephen seemed to be thinking. Hopefully he was thinking of letting them go. Finally he closed his eyes and gave a minute shake of the head. "Someone's been trying to dreamwalk into me for weeks. So forgive me for being cautious."
"Someone's been dreamwalking?" Stephen said in alarm. "I promise you that was not me. Our variant serves Dormammu. He must have deemed you worthy enough to be a vessel."
"Our variant. Heh." The other Stephen sighed. The tentacles that held everyone fast retracted into the floor, spilling their captives on the hard crystal. America caught herself with her hands and then stood up.
"Thank you," Stephen said.
"It's not much. I'd offer you refreshments but you did just break into my home."
America winced. "Sorry."
"To be fair, we thought we were going to a whole universe," Kate said. As everyone recovered from the ambush, they began to fan out, looking around but there wasn't much to see. It was like being inside a giant glass prison, a million facets reflecting the light of some unknown source. Their voices echoed.
"What happened here?" her Stephen asked and she knew he was thinking about the dead universe Wanda had trapped him in. She wondered if that other universe would collapse even further until it was just a husk like this one.
"A mistake."
America reached out to touch the nearest wall. It was cold and smooth like glass. She pressed her face against it to see if she could spot anything on the other side but there was nothing, absolutely nothing. She shuddered. This place was starting to give her the creeps. When she drew away, something else caught her eye, the only object in this otherwise empty shell. It was made out of the same material as the rest of this universe and resembled a multi-faceted ball. Pinpricks of light emanated from its center and backlit two tiny figures that stood frozen within. Huh. It was kind of neat.
"I'd advise you not to touch that," other Stephen said sharply. She withdrew her hand quickly. The stern look he gave her was the exact same that her Stephen gave when she'd done something he called inadvisable. It was super weird. Ponytail Stephen didn't have that look. He'd kind of encouraged her dumb decisions, actually. And then he betrayed her. Sure, Prime Stephen was good to her and had saved her life, but she wasn't quite ready to deal with any other Stephens yet. Besides, this one looked like he'd Seen Things. And Done Things. And was also super goth. Just look at that cloak and the creepy shadow tentacles.
Goth Stephen narrowed his eyes. "How did you track him here?"
"Dreamcatcher spell of my own design," Stephen replied. "I used dreams as the anchor points to orient ourselves in relation to those universes. Dormammu's followers are wreaking havoc and their path of destruction led us right here. To you."
Goth Stephen's brow wrinkled. "You mentioned a vessel."
"He's dying," Clea said. "He's looking to extend his life by finding a suitably powerful body to take as his own."
"Yet he's expanding his army to get here. Why is he marching against the universes now? Why not wait until he has his new body and can renew his strength?"
"A distraction. To keep us busy."
"Except it didn't work. It led you right…here." Goth Stephen's eyes widened. "Get out. Now. This is a trap."
Stephen took a hasty step forward. "Then come with us."
"No. It's not me he wants. He used dreamwalking to try and get to me but it was never me." His gaze flickered to the little crystal sphere and its two figures.
"He can only go where his followers exist," Stephen murmured. "America, get us out of here!"
"He couldn't get through me," Goth Stephen said. "I've spent centuries strengthening my mental wards. What have you been doing?"
America took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on her power and not Stephen's urgency. Stephen's sharp gasp pulled her attention away. He staggered and nearly fell to his knees.
"Stephen!" America shouted.
Her Stephen raked both hands through his hair and stumbled a couple of steps to the side. Several people reached for their weapons but no one struck. America's breathing came fast and shallow. Nononono. This couldn't be happening. Someone was dreamwalking, fighting Stephen from within, trying to take control.
"Stephen, fight it!"
The Cloak billowed out around him in a nonexistent wind and he screamed.
"He's losing." Goth Stephen drew lines of magic between his hands, building a charge, and unleashed a bright beam of energy at Stephen. No, that would incinerate him!
"Stephen!"
Thick shadows billowed out from her Stephen in a powerful wave, consumed the other Stephen's attack, and sent him flying. The force of it nearly made America lose her balance. Now weapons were out in earnest. Thor had Mjolnir ready to swing, Clint and Kate held arrows to their bowstrings, Shang-Chi's rings glowed with power. But they couldn't!
The shadows dispersed, leaving Stephen still on his feet. His heavy breathing was quickly coming under control and the sweat of the battle for his mind glistened on his brow.
For a second, America grasped at the hope that he had succeeded and thrown off his variant's will. Please please please.
Stephen's face stretched into a manic smirk America had not once seen him wear and she knew all hope was lost.
"Finally…got you," Stephen gasped. Then a burst of energy exploded out of his chest. America screamed and ducked as smoke and vile magic and dimensional residue sprayed into the air like it was being sprayed from a fire hose. Stephen screamed and arched his back as energy shot from his mouth and eyes, purple and black and violent, twisting tendrils of power that rapidly filled the universe.
AT LAST, a voice boomed. America clapped her hands over her ears but that didn't stop that thunderous tone from reaching them. I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WOULD HELP ME. YOU, STEPHEN STRANGE, HAVE GIVEN ME MY FREEDOM.
A face coalesced within the maelstrom overhead, crackling with lightning and churning like a storm cloud. Several fast-spinning twisters dipped out of the clouds and formed into fingers and then a hand. The hand reached for the little crystal sphere.
"I don't think so." Clea drew some of the storm's energy to herself and hurled it at the reaching hand, engulfing it in blue flames.
AH. MY DEAR NIECE. Dormammu backhanded her. She went flying.
America took a hasty step back but Dormammu wasn't interested in her. "Stephen? Stephen!" She spotted him among the storm clouds. He was on the ground and he wasn't moving. She wanted to run to him but what could she do? This was not good.
Lightning struck, called down by Mjolnir. But lightning was hardly uncommon in the storm. And somewhere within the clouds, a green light blinked to life. The wind whipped Goth Stephen's cloak into a frenzy as he opened the Eye of Agamotto, preparing a spell.
NOT THIS TIME. A second hand spun out of cloud and static grabbed Stephen by the wrist. The Eye closed. Stephen gritted his teeth and shot wickedly barbed tendrils from his hands. The tendrils caught Dormammu and crawled for his eyes; they were monstrous centipedes, the barbs hundreds of skittering legs. Dormammu roared, withdrawing his attack to focus on the bugs.
With Dormammu distracted, Stephen cast another spell, encasing the crystal sphere in layers of fragmented glass. The Mirror Dimension. "Don't let him get the prison!"
A scream shook the very air and a blast of heat knocked America clean off her feet. She fell in a tangle of limbs, crashed into something that gave way with an "oof!" and then landed on her back. Her head hurt and for a second, the smell of ozone made her want to be sick.
Someone grabbed her by the hand and hauled her to her feet. "You okay?" It was Marc.
It was hard to see through the storm but it seemed to America like they had the upper hand here, despite falling into Dormammu's trap. Even without Stephen, they still had numbers on their side. Bright light enveloped Dormammu's form as Clea threw a spell at him (a binding spell, America guessed, though her knowledge was very rudimentary). Every time he reached out to break it, Shang-Chi threw the full power of his rings into play. But then the storm surged and a hand broke free, smashing Shang-Chi to the ground. They could hold him, distract him, but then what? How were they supposed to kill something like that?
"Maybe we don't have to kill him," America realized. "He's dying. He needs another body. Can we just stall him until he weakens?" Easier said than done. This whole fighting thing was still new to her. Mostly she'd just run away. Stephen was the only one who'd believed in her and what she could do but he was out of the game. No, she couldn't think about that right now. She needed to help stall.
"Come on." She grabbed Marc's sleeve but when she started toward the fight, he didn't budge.
"I can't," Marc said. "I never should have come. This was a mistake."
"But you totally kicked butt back home," America said. "Please. We need everyone."
"I want to, kid, but Khonshu's not talking. I can't summon the suit."
Oh. "Then get Stephen."
Dormammu gave a thunderous roar. Before she could chicken out, America ran toward the sound. It was true she had more confidence in herself then before. But even so, she didn't feel any braver. When she'd faced the Scarlet Witch, she'd been terrified Stephen's belief in her had pushed her into facing her fear, but her heart had pounded and afterward, her hands had been so shaky. She didn't know if she was cut out for the superhero life or not, but if there was one thing she did know, it was that she couldn't let her friends down.
Launching herself into the fray, America struck with full force, landing a blow that reverberated throughout the universe. Dormammu screamed.
"He felt that," Clea said. "Do it again!"
America did and the roar that followed was almost enough to shatter her eardrums. She caught a glimpse of fiery eyes and a mouth gaping wide. White light blossomed from Dormammu's throat. America stepped back, tripped, and fell.
She landed several yards from where she'd been, next to the mirror encased orb, as beams of incinerating light shot far over her head. The collapsing ring of sparks above her answered the question of what just happened. The other Stephen gave her a nod and turned his attention back to Dormammu.
Beams of light continued to shoot from Dormammu's eyes and mouth, cutting through the air and rebounding off the crystalline walls.
"Down!" someone shouted.
America lowered her head as heat seared the air and explosions echoed against crystal and she was sure she'd get hit any second and that would be it. Would it hurt? Would she see it coming?
A ray of energy seared past her ear and she screamed. She looked up. The orb lay on the ground a few feet away, its mirrored surface reflecting her face. Tears streaked her skin, her eyes were red, and her hair mussed. An energy bolt hit the sphere, sending it skidding and splitting a crack through the reflection of America's face. She glanced up, saw that the other Stephen had erected a huge shield which kept back the brunt of Dormammu's energy attack. She glanced back at the sphere.
A second stray blast hit it and the mirror shattered as it spun away. America scrambled after it. The little prison bounced and rolled, the two figures inside looking like dancers as they spun and spun.
She caught it and wrapped it in her arms, keeping it close to her chest. It was warm.
More energy blasts rebounded off the crystal walls. America stood frozen, her heart in her throat. And then golden symbols blossomed around her, erecting an energy barrier that dissipated the lethal blast before it could reach her.
Several yards away, Stephen stood with arms outstretched. One held back Dormammu's wrath and the other maintained the shield in which America stood with the prison. But both shields were flickering, growing unstable. He couldn't maintain it forever and Dormammu's onslaught was only rising in power.
The others that America could see had retreated behind Stephen's protective barrier. They'd be evaporated if that fell and it was growing more and more unstable. Something had to give. Either he'd need to drop that barrier or he'd need to drop the shield around America. The choice seemed obvious yet he refused to let up. What was it about this sphere, this prison, that was so important?
Stephen screamed, clearly nearing his breaking point. America couldn't help but think of another Stephen with spells failing, whose desperate act had nearly killed America. This guy wasn't protecting her, he was protecting the thing in her arms. The shields flickered and more energy arced around them. A blast rebounded on the universe's boundary and hit Stephen in the back. The shields fell. A relentless wave of energy cascaded over her and the sphere slipped from her fingers. She watched as cracks spread across its surface, and then it tumbled away from her.
She must have hit her head because things were a little foggy. The sphere rolled into the storm and cracked open like an egg, spewing light. The storm clouds flashed white with lightning and then swirled with rainbow colors. That monstrous face loomed out of the storm but it seemed smaller somehow, weaker. Hands reached out.
"What is this?" a distinctive, German-accented voice emerged from the storm. The clouds shifted, revealing a shadowy silhouette of… Whoa, was that a robot? The figure sure looked like one. He was holding a spear thing. He looked like one of the figures from the prison.
"Strange, what did you do?!" a second figure screamed.
America pushed herself to her knees and shook her head, trying to clear it. That was a mistake. Her head pounded so hard she couldn't think.
"Zola, it's you he wants," Stephen said. He was hunched over, clutching at his side. "Don't let him in."
"Your concern is touching," the robot said. "But, I think, misplaced. I like this power. I will not give it up so easily."
THEN YOU ARE A FOOL.
"And you," Zola said, "are dead."
A loud, bass hum rattled America's bones and then there was a tremendous explosion. When she opened her eyes afterward, her gaze fell on a body. At first she thought it was someone dead and all covered in blood until she realized it was Peter, the blood just the red of his suit. He didn't get up. Several yards past him, Thor spun Mjolnir like a helicopter rotor, forming a makeshift shield. Behind him, Clint lowered Kate to the ground. She wore an expression of pain as she clutched at her arm. Yet farther away, Layla was dragging Shang-Chi to safety but a stray energy bolt caught her in the shoulder and she cried out, letting him go.
Dormammu's storm rolled over Zola. A flash of red and his attacks all fell short. They were beyond caring about the Avengers anymore. It didn't matter which of them won because whoever it was, the Avengers would lose.
America was oddly calm at this realization. Maybe because she'd faced death before. She looked around and found her reflection again, this time in the crystalline wall of this dead universe. Hairline fractures marred its smooth surface as if even a universe could only take so much strain. She remembered Stephen's words to her on Mount Wundagore. He'd believed in her. He'd trusted her. She couldn't just let him down after that, could she? She could still get them all home. She could save them. Except they were scattered. She couldn't save them all. There was no way she'd be able to grab all of them and tear open an escape. Not with the cataclysmic storm raging on top of them.
Maybe…maybe she could clear the air for a second. Just enough to get everyone together. She was powerful. She didn't fully understand it but whatever this power was inside her, it had let her fight the Scarlet Witch. She had to trust she could carry that strength again.
Struggling to her feet, America swayed but held fast. Neither Dormammu nor Zola paid her any attention.
America braced herself and struck a blow at the ground. She screamed away her fears into the endless storm and the power of a multitude of universes rippled out from her, slamming into everything in its wake. It pushed a weakened Dormammu and Zola apart. It ripped through the storm. It sent fractures spreading along the walls of the universe.
For an instant, she spotted the others, heroes bloody and losing hope, very few still standing.
And then the storm came crashing back to her, Dormammu and Zola eager to return to the fight with her caught at the center.
America punched the ground again. Energy poured over her, two voices screamed in agony, and the universe…
Shattered.
The void rushed in.
The last thing America knew was that she was falling.