"Alex, from what I know, there are at least five major forces searching for the Orb right now."

"And those are only the ones we can confirm. There must be countless others working from the shadows, watching and waiting."

Inside the great king's hall, the air shimmered faintly with the glow of holographic runes and digital streams of light. Alex sat on his exclusive throne, one leg crossed over the other, his expression calm and unreadable.

Before him, a towering virtual screen projected the image of Captain Marvel. She stood at military ease, her short hair framing a face hardened by battle, her eyes sharp with concern.

That was right.

Captain Marvel wasn't on Earth.

Not long after Alex had recruited her, he had entrusted her with a daunting mission: to scour the stars in search of the Infinity Stones. The universe was vast, riddled with dangers, and no one else had the power or freedom to take on such a task.

And while the ultimate goal was the complete collection, their immediate priority was singular—the Orb, the vessel of the Power Stone.

Alex leaned back slightly, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest of his throne as he considered. In his mind, the map of the cosmos unfurled.

The locations of all six stones were etched into his memory.

The Tesseract—the Space Stone—was already in his possession, locked away securely.

The Mind Stone, Loki's scepter, now sat under his control after their recent confrontation.

The Time Stone was safeguarded within Kamar-Taj, watched over by those monks Alex wasn't quite ready to provoke yet.

The Soul Stone, bound by its cruel price, rested on distant Vormir, a secret known only to him.

As for the Reality Stone… its exact whereabouts remained elusive. It lay somewhere in the Nine Realms, and with Odin still alive and watching, Alex couldn't risk openly dispatching Carol into those territories.

That left the Orb—the most realistic target.

"I understand," Alex said finally, his tone clipped and thoughtful. His eyes flicked toward the projection. "If leads are thin, then keep an eye on a man named Peter Quill. He runs with the Ravagers under Yondu Udonta. He's Earth-born, but don't let that fool you."

Captain Marvel arched a brow, her interest piqued. "You're telling me this Quill knows where the Orb is?"

"Not yet," Alex replied evenly, his voice carrying quiet certainty. "But one day, he will. Stay close to him when that happens."

He inwardly cursed his own imperfect memory of the films. If only he had paid more attention back then, recalling the exact planet name would've saved him considerable time. Still, he had no doubts. With Carol's abilities, once the Orb surfaced, it was as good as his.

"You foresaw this as well?" Carol's lips curved slightly. She had long grown used to Alex's uncanny ability to predict outcomes before they occurred.

She suspected it was one of his powers, a gift of foresight. Alex let her continue thinking that. Better than admitting the truth—that he was a man out of place, carrying knowledge of stories once thought fictional.

"Exactly," Alex said with a faint smile, playing along.

Carol's face softened. "In that case, I'll rest easier. But Alex…" Her tone shifted, becoming more urgent. "I've come across a planet. Its people are being slaughtered by a colonial fleet. They need me. I'll track the Orb, but I can't turn a blind eye to this."

Alex exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching. Some things never changed. Even empowered, even tempered by their alliance, Captain Marvel's "galactic police" instinct burned too strong to be extinguished.

"Suit yourself," he said finally, spreading his hands with mock surrender.

Their bond wasn't one of commander and subordinate. It was friendship, bound by trust and mutual respect. He could assign her tasks, but he wouldn't shackle her. As long as she delivered the Orb into his hands in the end, he cared little for the diversions along the way.

He was just about to add more when something tugged sharply at his senses. His head tilted, eyes narrowing. Super-hearing picked up a disturbance far across the island, a ripple of foreign power cutting through Krakoa's barriers like a hot blade through wax.

"That's enough for now," Alex said abruptly, cutting the transmission. The holographic projection winked out, leaving the hall in silence.

Moments later, Raven strode in, her steps quick and deliberate, her expression grave. "Alex," she said tightly, "someone just appeared in Krakoa. Based on your earlier warning, it should be Thor."

"You're right, Raven. It is Thor."

Alex rose smoothly from his throne, a spark of anticipation gleaming in his eyes. "Let's go meet this famed God of Thunder."

His calm confidence eased some of the tension in Raven's chest. With a short nod, she fell in step beside him.

---

By the time they reached the central square, the place was already a storm of voices. A crowd had gathered, mutants standing shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed on the figure at the center.

Only minutes earlier, a shaft of light had torn open the skies, piercing through Krakoa's defense barrier without pause, slamming into the earth with thunderous force. When the radiance faded, a towering warrior remained, hammer in hand, cloak fluttering in the sea breeze.

Thor.

The sight was enough to stir wary whispers, but mutants were no ordinary mortals. They had weathered calamities, fought machines, gods, and monsters alike. They didn't cower—they assessed, they prepared.

"Who are you?" Cyclops's voice rang clear above the murmurs. His visor glinted as he stepped forward, posture rigid with authority. "How dare you trespass upon Krakoa?"

This was not the uncertain youth Alex had once rescued. This was a hardened leader, cool and stern, tempered by fire and steel.

"Krakoa," Thor repeated, his voice low and thunderous. His gaze swept the crowd before locking on Scott with cold fury. "Then it is you who holds my brother. Release Loki now—or face the wrath of my hammer!"

The square bristled with energy.

"I don't care who you claim to be," Cyclops shot back, his tone sharp as a blade. "Drop your weapon and surrender!"

Thor's grip tightened around Mjolnir. His lips curled into a snarl. "Very well. You asked for it!"

Without another word, the God of Thunder hurled his hammer.

It cut the air with a howl, a blur of spinning steel and lightning.

But Cyclops was no novice. He moved on instinct, muscles honed by countless battles. He dove aside in a sharp roll, the hammer slamming past where he'd been a heartbeat before.

Hum!

Mjolnir curved midair and, with a magnetic pull, returned neatly into Thor's waiting palm. He caught it effortlessly, smirking. "Not bad. You have some fight in you, mortal. But—"

Before he could finish, a sharp hiss split the air.

Zzzzzttt!

Twin beams of ruby energy blasted from Cyclops's visor, streaking across the square like lances of burning light, aimed straight at the God of Thunder.

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