ye. STILL. be. warned.

Chapter 34

Tony collided with the shattered slabs of rock, landing like a meteor bulleting through the sky. Stiffly he rose, fighting through the massive energy typhoon Thor sent swirling throughout the sky. He lifted his arms, pressing through the torrents of lightning. The thunder rumbled against him. Bolts of energy drilled holes into the solid rock face on all sides. If one happened to strike him, he might not survive it.

"Stark!"

Tony turned slightly, still struggling to make it to the crag of rock Thor opened into the dark depths below. He could hear the feral screams of monsters surfacing beneath his feet. The very idea of it terrified him. Who could possibly be willing to face that now?

"Loki!" Tony exclaimed in shock, Thor's wayward brother dragged himself over the rocky ledge. His hair whipped around him, coat snapping like a cracked whip in the air.

The ground beneath their feet jumped, throwing them upward. The two grabbed hold of the nearest boulder, and clung together for their very lives. Suddenly, two hands emerged from the lip of the crevice beneath them. One gripped tightly around Mjolnir.

"Grab them!" Tony screamed.

Foregoing their own safety, Loki and Tony launched toward the figure emerging from the dark. It had to have been Thor. He must have found Clint. Nothing would have gotten him out of that hell otherwise!

The arms came up first. A shredded red cape followed, blinding them for a moment as it tore free and disappeared into the storm. More desperate by the second, Tony continued to pull, drag, using all of his strength and Loki's too until at last Thor came up over the edge of darkness.

"St—stand—Stand back!" Thor stuttered. No sooner had he been pulled to safety, than the thunderer dragged himself away from them. He threw his chest into the air, brought his hands together over his head and, with a mighty SLAM! the world around them exploded in white, hot energy. The ground shifted again. The three began to slide along it. Tony knew the crag of rock came closer, and back-pedaled to avoid it. Suddenly, though, he hit something tall, hard, and utterly solid.

Tony opened the palm of his hand, fighting through the shattered glass of his HUD to see clearly. It couldn't be . . . it couldn't be . . .

"What did you do!?" Tony screamed, spinning around wildly to face Thor. The Asgardian was laying on his side, Loki gently trying to support him, as he heaved. His face was obscured in blood and torn flesh. Half of his armor had been shredded off by what appeared to be massive claws.

He hardly breathed. Couldn't, in the little oxygen left for them. Tony slammed his metal fist against the sealed rock. Thor's final strike hadn't opened it. He did nothing to bring Clint back to them. He wasn't down there to find him. He had effectively sealed Clint in, never to be retrieved by anyone.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!?" Tony shook all over. He wanted to tear himself out of the suit, to somehow drill a hole into the solid foundation, blow it to kingdom come, and get his brother back. Now he never could. Clint was gone, forever.

Thor grabbed hold of Loki's arm, and directed a shaking, bleeding hand to Stark. If someone didn't grab the man now, he would never leave. They must force him, though Thor had none of the strength to do it alone. With no other choice, low on time and less on patience, Loki had to subdue Tony himself.

Above them, the blacked-out sky was swallowed up in the great mouth of Galactus. Darkness descended down on them, an endless pitch with no beginning and no ending. Death everlasting approached at last to claim every one of them. Waiting in the very heart of it, beaconing that unending evil forward, were the World Council fleets, Odin's ship, and the single hope left in the Bethlehem Star.

The time had come.

The end of it all…or only the beginning.

As Loki muscled the weight of his fallen brother, of the thrashing Tony Stark, and the portal straight to Midgard, he turned his back on the great slabs of rock which would forever entomb the Archer of Midgard. The hollow, dead place found a new name that day. Existing only in legend, it became known as Hawkeye's Keel, the place of the last stand, lost forever down the gullet of Galactus in his final meal.

:(:):(:):

"Quill!" Gamora exclaimed, clinging tightly to the arms of her jump seat.

Peter said nothing, his entire focus remained steadfast on flying, fleeing, and preventing their ship from being sucked into the vortex of ebony and fire-red light swarming all around them. He could feel the heart of his ship falling out from beneath him, his body and soul disconnecting like two halves of his mind cleaving apart. A scream burst from his lips, thrusting the Milano as hard as he dared to escape the force closing in around them.

He'd gotten too close. It wasn't possible to think that they could beat the massive entity that was Galactus. Odin might want to dive down that being's throat, to death and glory, but Peter did not. Live to fight another day, live to try again, fight to survive. It was all any of them could do.

Around him, he watched as the last dregs of the other ships abandoned their small wars against Galactus' followers, and launched after him. Loki's portals to Vanaheim still existed. They may still reach it if the worlds hadn't collapsed already.

Ahead of them, Peter saw a streak of green rage monster hop scotch across an entire line of vessels. The Hulk slammed into the ring of the first portal he could, but didn't pass through. He hovered beside it instead, reaching out into the cluttered airspace, and grabbed everything his hands could reach. Wings, noses, tail sections, it didn't matter. He swung the dead fleet ships around, and threw them one by one into whatever portals were still open.

"Quill," Gamora said again, quieter. He could sense the absolute terror hanging on that single word, the solo syllable. Quill wouldn't make it through on his own, not with the gravitational flux yanking them back toward the insatiable hunger of Galactus.

Peter looked forwards, his eyes seemed to lock, ever briefly, with the Hulk. Even that monster couldn't reach that far through open space and pluck them out of Galactus' jaws.

Behind him, Rocket's guns had stopped firing, Drax grew solemnly quiet, and Groot sprouted a few buds. They'd faced death time and time again. This war would end without them, without half of the population of the universe sent to fight it. They'd lost. They'd failed. This was the end of everything.

Quill had experience with moments like this. Times when his entire life flashed before his eyes, the world changing forever, promises to be a better man if only he might live a little longer, survive another day. This time, that changed. Instead of focusing on his own, small life, his thoughts instantly drifted to Odin Allfather.

"I aim to make Thor a king."

The ship needed a boost of energy. If Thor could command lightning, what did that say of his father? His mind opening, life expanding, eyes dilating, Peter suddenly let go of the yolk completely.

"HOLD ON!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

A force drilled them from behind. The Milano temporarily pulled back, like the force before a tsunami, then suddenly they launched forward immeasurably fast. The remaining stars shot by them. It was a mad dash, every ship launching towards the lines of Vanaheim portals all at the same time.

The Hulk struggled to hold onto his position, but he too scraped through with the wing of the jettisoned Milano. Half of the galaxy detonated at their backs. The goliath particles firing all at once in a single, cataclysmic big bang. Two hammer heads slamming together, charged in pure energy, held none of the strength that exploded through all of space. Nova Luna, the portals, whatever ships couldn't ride the wave of energy to safety, all of them were gone. Lost forever to obscurity.

...

i'm so sorry.