Chapter 66

When reality snapped back into focus, I immediately went to work, splitting my focus between mending the dragonling and bringing the blistering heat under control. The infant titan tried to suppress its radiant aura, but the creature was exhausted.

With a practiced sweep of my fingers, I traced a glowing mystic seal in the air, manifesting a gateway to the frozen wastes of Niflheim overhead. Soul-chilling winds poured through the rift, flash-cooling the molten stone and plunging the canyon back to a livable temperature in moments.

Dense clouds of steam billowed outward as the cherry-red slag hardened into dull, harmless rhyolite. Satisfied the floor would hold, I snapped the portal shut and focused on patching up the dragonling’s torn flesh.

“That is it?!” Fenris trotted through the cooling fog, her colossal lupine frame compressing back into her statuesque humanoid form as she drew near. “All bark and no bite. What an utter joke!”

The infant titan snapped its head upward, its amber sensory pits flaring with visceral outrage. A wave of pure draconic bloodlust rippled through the mist, locking directly onto the wolf goddess. It parted its jaws to deliver a scathing retort, but quickly closed its maw in frustration and turned to me.

<Grr… Curses! I have not uttered words in millennia—I have forgotten how! Tell that mutt she is gravely mistaken if she believes that was my full power! You ambushed me as I hatched! My scales have yet to harden, and my body has yet to master its internal furnace! Give me a week, and I will gladly put that rabid mongrel in her place!>

I relayed the blistering message to Fenris. Far from taking offense, the Asgardian wolf goddess bared her sharp teeth in a broad grin.

“Haha! You have got a pair of brass ones, do you not?” Fenris beckoned with two fingers. “I am ready to throw down whenever and wherever you want, oversized gecko. Since you did not learn your lesson the first time, I will gladly tear your throat out a second time.”

<I will turn you into a smoldering pile of ash, flea-ridden hound!>

Sparks flew between the two as they traded venomous barbs through the clearing mist. I stopped relaying the insults after the third exchange; this was not my battle to instigate. If our newest companion wished to exchange insults, it could learn to speak like the rest of us.

Once the dragonling’s flesh was fully knit and its breathing steadied, I prepared to check on my fiancées and allies on the shelf above. Before I could launch into the air, the titan raised an iridescent foreleg, halting my ascent.

<Before you depart, may I ask your name, demigod?>

“It is Leon Fou Aremus.” I met the dragon’s glowing gaze. “And yours?”

<In the human tongue, it is Usaneodus.>

I repeated the name several times in my head, committing the precise cadence to memory. Once satisfied, another practical matter surfaced.

“This will have no bearing on how you are treated, but… are you male or female? My understanding of Elder Dragon biology is rather rudimentary.”

<At this time, I am neither. We, like other Elder Dragons, are born genderless. As we mature, our biology adapts to the needs of the ecosystem. If there is an excess of one sex, we transition to the opposite to maintain balance. That being said… seeing as I appear to be the sole Elder Dragon in this realm, I am uncertain which path my biology will take.>

I left the two mythological entities to trade threats across the cooling mist, taking Solaris with me to check on the rest of our party. We ascended toward the shelf, guided by the radiant golden glow of Olivia’s protective ward.

As the outcrop broke through the haze, the barrier abruptly dissolved.

Clatter!

The sharp crack of wood striking stone echoed over the ledge.

“Shit…”

We surged forward, touching down on the shale shelf in seconds.

The sight that greeted us was an absolute visual feast. Gwen was kneeling near the center of the platform, tending to an assembly of barely dressed women. Aside from her, the only ones still fully clothed were an unconscious Olivia and Roxanne, who stood guard close by. The beastkin maiden swayed on trembling legs, her animal ears drooping flat against her hair as she struggled to remain upright.

As her gaze met mine, relief washed over her face, and she staggered forward.

“Did… did we win…?”

She managed four clumsy steps before her knees buckled. Pushing off the rock, I closed the gap in a heartbeat, catching my fiancée securely in my arms before she could strike the stone.

“The battle is ours, Roxanne. With everyone holding the line, we forced the dragon to submit and become an ally.” I retrieved my canteen, soaking a clean cloth with cold water to dab her cracked lips and brow. “Rest easy. I will take over from here.”

“Okay…”

Within seconds, Roxanne’s breathing steadied as deep sleep claimed her exhausted body. After easing her onto a smooth section of stone, I turned my attention to the rest of my fiancées, starting with Olivia.

Her layered ceremonial robes were soaked through, clinging to her skin like heavy, suffocating lead. Working with practiced care, I peeled away the drenched fabric down to her undergarments and laid her back against the cool rock. I channeled a soothing pulse of mana into her chest while pressing a damp towel against her temples.

A soft groan escaped her lips, and her golden lashes fluttered open.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she sipped the water. “Not quite the circumstances I envisioned for you taking my clothing off, but beggars cannot be choosers. Thank you, Leon.”

I offered my saintess fiancée a warm smile. She was handling the indignity of the situation with far more grace than another blonde on the shelf, whose murderous glare was practically boring a hole through the back of my skull. I chose to ignore the prickling heat of that stare until the rest of my fiancées had recovered enough strength to sit up and hydrate on their own.

“Your mouth is not broken, is it?” I turned an annoyed gaze toward the blonde telepath. “Instead of glaring at me like a scorned princess, how about using your words to speak your mind? Even a child knows better than that.”

“Are you quite finished flirting with your fiancées?” Emma brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek, lifting her chin. “Would you be ever so kind as to render some aid to the rest of us now?”

Her request was valid enough. Rising to my feet, I bypassed her sprawled body and walked over to Storm. Once the weather goddess recovered enough strength, she could generate a cooling breeze to refresh the entire shelf.

“Wait!” Emma propped herself up on her forearms, her brow furrowing in protest. “I was the one who asked for aid! Why are you helping Storm first?”

Her silver-haired colleague turned toward Emma with an exhausted, irritated groan.

“It seems the Emma Frost in every reality remains an intolerable attention whore.” Storm leaned against my arm, taking slow, deliberate sips from the canteen I tilted to her lips. “Why can you not simply be grateful to still draw breath and wait your turn in silence?”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Emma tilted her head, genuine confusion cracking through her haughty facade. “We are from the same—”

No longer consumed by the immediate terror of the Elder Dragon, Emma paused, scrutinizing the faces scattered across the ledge. It did not take long for the discrepancies to register: subtle costume variations, unfamiliar physical traits, and entirely foreign psychic signatures. Even the minds of those who resembled people from her home world carried an alien frequency. As the realization settled in, her aloof poise gave way to cautious uncertainty.

“Fine… I will await my turn.” Emma shifted her focus, her voice dropping to a measured, guarded pitch. “While you work, can you at least tell us where we are and why you dragged us here? The last thing I recall was holding a glass of wine on a balcony, overlooking a celebration on Genosha when a blinding flash… Wait a moment. Did I die?!”

“That, I can explain.” I nodded. “This chaos originated on Earth-6160, a reality initially similar to Earth-616. A twisted variant of Reed Richards known as the Maker came into possession of a time-traveling device, using it to dismantle and rewrite history to his personal design…”

I moved from person to person along the high shale shelf, rehydrating parched throats and soothing depleted nerves while laying out the shattered state of our reality. They listened in silence, interrupting only a handful of times to clarify specific points.

An hour slipped by under the alien sky of the pocket dimension, the chill wind sweeping through the vast chasm.

Armed with the full reality of their situation, our summoned allies sat in contemplative silence on the canyon floor, processing everything they had learned. It was more than a mere hunch; judging by the hollow looks in their eyes as they stared across the barren space, every single one of them had been plucked away from the very brink of death, just like Emma.

“I can see why you summoned us. In your position, I would have done the same.” Storm offered a slow, understanding nod. “Once we resolve this crisis, will we be sent back to the exact moment you pulled us from? If so… is there any way you can prevent that?”

The other six women looked to me, dread and quiet desperation tightening their features.

I wanted to reassure them that everything would be fine, but reality was rarely that accommodating.

In this world, their deaths were in a state of flux. Back home, however, their deaths were likely anchored to Fixed Points—historical events one could not just rewrite without opening a wound in the timestream.

‘I could probably use the Infinity Stones to shield them when patching things up, but who knows how their native universes would react to them vanishing? Would reality adapt, or just shatter?’

I had no answers yet, only theories to test later with science and sorcery. For now, blunt honesty was the best policy.

“I will not sugarcoat it. I honestly do not know what will befall you.” I met their weary, guarded gazes. “What I can promise is that I will do everything within my power to prevent you from being dropped back into your demise. I already have a few methods in mind, but verifying them will require time and research.”

The seven women studied my expression for a long, quiet moment. I half-expected them to spiral into panic or despair. Instead, a collective sigh of relief swept across the ledge as they flopped back onto the cool sandstone. The lingering dread vanished from their faces.

Stunned by their casual reaction, Hertrude leaned forward, searching for an explanation. “Have you simply resigned yourselves to your fate, or is there something I am missing? If someone told me there was no certainty of stopping my execution, I would be inconsolable.”

Mystique waved a dismissive hand as she stripped empty pistol magazines from her waterlogged rig. “He did not say there was no hope, merely that he needs time to evaluate options. If he had smiled and guaranteed a solution, I would have told him to fuck off and started hunting for a way home myself. I do not possess temporal powers, but I have crossed paths with plenty of people who do. Messing with history is a delicate, messy business; all of them told me as much.”

“If Victor von Doom entrusted everything to Leon, then I will place my faith in his judgment. Victor was one of the few truly brilliant minds I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” Emma rested her head back against the rock, her gaze fixed on the foreign stars glittering in the open sky above the canyon. “All we can do is decide what to do with this borrowed time. A brush with death has a way of reminding one just how fragile existence is.”

The other heroines murmured in quiet agreement, save for Squirrel Girl.

Her gaze was locked on the canyon floor below, peering through the thinning mist at the colossal silhouettes resting across the scorched rhyolite bed. The gears in her head were spinning at a mile a minute.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would see Fenris and a legendary dragon in the flesh.” Her eyes sparkled with unhinged excitement. “I wonder… if I ask super nicely, do you think they would let me ride them?”

In an instant, the philosophical mood shattered.

“No!”

The summons snapped their heads toward her in unison, eyes wide with absolute horror. After the grueling battle they had barely survived, there was zero chance they were going to let Doreen antagonize an infant calamity.

“How about we do not provoke the fire-breathing dragon or annoy the giant divine wolf?” Gwen let out a nervous laugh, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Instead, how about we find a hot bath, clean clothes, and delicious food? Who is with me?”

Mirage lifted her chin from her knees, brushing a stray lock of platinum hair from her face with a weary, self-deprecating smile. “A hot bath sounds heavenly. But before that, would it be possible to requisition some proper hardware? Unlike the rest of our colorful company, I do not possess magic or superpowers. If we are expected to survive whatever nightmare horrors roam this world, a reliable semi-automatic handgun and a combat knife would be greatly appreciated.”

I nodded with a hearty chuckle. Since they had more or less committed to assisting us, ensuring they were outfitted with superior equipment was a basic necessity.

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