American comic book: My Father is Superman, am I just an NPC?

Chapter 201 The God of Stories and OAA
Within the "underlying code" of the universe.

Within a region that cannot be described using conventional physical concepts.

Here, all is silent; time seems to stand still, yet it also seems to flow at billions of speeds simultaneously.

Countless thick, winding veins, emitting a faint glow, intertwine and extend, forming a pattern so vast it surpasses imagination, its shape resembling the World Tree from mythology.

This is the center of time, the neural network of the multiverse—once, billions of light veins intertwined like vines, each representing an independent reality, a timeline, a possible "what if." Green light surges like rivers, whispering the birth and death of countless worlds.

Each vein once represented a unique story, a vibrant universe. But now, this sacred realm is almost lifeless.

Most of the veins had long since withered and carbonized, hanging limply like vines burned by a raging fire, with ashes scattering from the broken ends.

Within that utterly decaying "storyline," only one thread still pulsates faintly, flowing with a ghostly green light unique to time and the god of stories.

It is delicate and fragile, as if it could be extinguished at any moment—meaning that, despite the apparent restart of everything after the collapse of the multiverse, the entire Marvel universe is still just one universe clinging to life. At the center of those countless threads, a figure sits alone on a throne woven from time itself.

His body was intimately connected to those enormous veins, as if he himself were part of this giant tree, or rather, as if this giant tree was supporting his existence.

He is Loki.

But not that cunning and mischievous god of pranks.

Rather, he is a god who has undergone baptism and transformation, finally understanding the true meaning of divinity. Powerful and higher-dimensional are synonyms for him after achieving godhood.

In the original Loki story, he was revealed to be the core of the multiverse narrative, with the Time Guardians, the TVA Time Authority, and everything else revolving around "Loki's story."

Within the timeline structure, most lives follow a "sacred timeline," proceeding according to a predetermined script. Loki, however, through constant betrayal, escape, and altering his fate, becomes the only "variable" capable of breaking the narrative framework. Each of his choices can potentially create a new timeline and a new story.

Therefore, his existence is key to maintaining the balance of the cosmic narrative, serving as an anchor. In a major crisis, Loki, in his efforts to save the universe, did not become the "Guardian of Time," but instead chose to become the "God of Stories." He is no longer a prisoner of the script, but the gardener of the story.

This is true transcendence. Allowing all stories to grow freely, he reconnects countless timelines, making every "what if" a reality.

The position of the God of Stories was thus born.

This responsibility should have continued until the end of time.

however.

He is no longer in good health.

This is the price of being closely connected to the multiverse.

Due to the decay of the multiverse, Loki looked incredibly weak, his face pale, and his once bright eyes were now filled with heavy weariness and unfathomable sorrow.

"Where will this final story lead?"

The veins around his body, which should have been radiant and flowing with countless colorful stories, have now mostly become gray, dry, and withered.

Like a forest scorched by fire, only desolate ruins remain.

"Huhuhuhu~"

His heavy breathing, comparable to Batman's, echoed.

Loki's body was so thin it was almost transparent, with green lines connecting his veins emerging beneath his skin, as if his flesh and blood were being constantly pulled away by the remaining web of time.

His head was slightly lowered, his silver hair was scattered, and each breath was a heavy panting. All possibilities, all branches, had been annihilated, leaving only this one main thread, weighing heavily on his shoulders, supported by him alone, maintaining this last fragile existence.

Loki holds everything together, yet he has also imprisoned himself. His body is becoming the pillar that allows this last universe, this final story, to flow and develop normally.

“Ian Kent…” Suddenly, Loki slowly raised his head. This simple movement seemed to have exhausted him greatly, and the veins connecting his body trembled slightly, emitting a barely audible groan.

He braced himself against the armrests of the throne, not for majesty, but to keep himself from collapsing. Two images appeared in the void before him.

One image shows Ian Kent shouting at him, his voice seemingly transcending dimensions.

The other image shows Loki Sylvie with a flushed face and eyes burning with rage, clearly in a state of extreme agitation.

As Loki's gaze fell upon the boy, Ian Kent, the image focused on him. Loki, seated on his throne, offered no response to Ian's booming voice, which seemed to pierce through dimensional barriers.

He simply watched silently, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes, which had witnessed countless rises and falls in the world—a mixture of scrutiny, hope, weariness, and a deep-seated…helplessness. Just that one glance seemed to have exhausted all of Loki's strength.

“There is hope in him…” As he finished speaking, he slowly lowered his head again, sinking into a deeper silence, as if he had become yet another cold sculpture on this withered throne. Only the single, still flowing green vein proved that he was still bearing that endless weight.

The moment Loki lowered his head again, the last remaining timeline, flowing with an eerie green light, trembled very slightly.

It wasn't an internal fluctuation—not a struggle within the timeline, nor the lament of a remnant soul from the multiverse. Rather, it came from the outside, from beyond that story, deeper than nothingness.

Perhaps only Loki, as the guardian of the story, can truly feel this—an indescribable "presence" is approaching their story.

It has no shape, no frequency, no energy reading, and cannot even be captured by the act of "observation." It is like darkness itself beginning to decay.

Just as "non-existence" begins to devour "existence".

Within this decaying network of the World Tree, Loki was the only one who could "perceive" it. Not with his eyes, not with his ears, but with his instinct as the god of stories—an intuition for "narrative integrity." He sensed that something was moving beyond the boundaries of the story.

It slowly squeezed in.

That's not an invasion, that's infiltration.

Like water seeping into parched soil, it is silent and imperceptible, yet it causes everything to begin to crumble.

The withering of the network may not be solely due to the collapse of the multiverse, but rather because this "external force" has been gradually eroding the underlying code of reality over countless years. It doesn't destroy, it pollutes—turning "possible" into "impossible," and "if" into "never."

“It’s still here, it always has been.” Loki’s breathing became even more labored. He felt as if his consciousness was enveloped by an invisible membrane, his thoughts becoming sluggish. He tried to look up, even just to catch another glimpse of that remaining green light, but found that his will was being suppressed by some grander “stillness.”

That might be the real reason why the Marvel Cinematic Universe once faced apocalypse, and even if the universe were to reboot, the crisis might not have truly passed, but only delayed its progress.

The real apocalypse.

It wasn't a particular major war.

Rather, it is the decay of the cosmic narrative itself—when stories can no longer be told, when choices can no longer be made, when the “future” becomes a closed, dead loop.

That was the real end.

This time, Tony Stark's planned reboot of the universe did not truly avert the crisis. It was merely temporarily pushed away, like the tide receding, leaving behind a wet beach.

But it is still far away.

At the "end of all stories," it waits quietly. It is in no hurry. It has no concept of time. It simply exists, and continuously and eternally erodes the "story" itself.

"Only the narrative of the Creator can counter it."

Loki's fingertips twitched slightly. He wanted to speak, to warn, to use his last strength to light a match to illuminate the impending darkness. But he knew that any words would be futile. This "external thing" was beyond the realm of language. It wasn't even beyond the realm of "god."

It is an absolute heterogeneity that even "gods" cannot comprehend.

The green light from the veins dimmed a little more.

The deep erosion continues.

It makes no sound, yet it amplifies the silence of the entire universe; it reveals no form, yet it renders all light and shadow seem illusory. And Loki, the cunning god who once manipulated fate, can now only use his own flesh and blood as pillars to support this final story.

He knew that when his strength was exhausted, when the last vein went out, that "external thing" would no longer need to be squeezed—it would fill everything naturally, like breathing.

The universe may restart a thousand or ten thousand times.

But as long as this "external force" continues to quietly erode the story, the real crisis will never be over.

It was just... delayed.

But procrastination will eventually come to an end.

.........

Meanwhile, at the end of time, in a landfill.

"Pfft!"

Loki the Woman, also known as Sylvie, the goddess of mischief, roughly dragged Ian through a rusty manhole cover, and the two of them fell into a sewer that smelled of rotten rust and unknown chemicals—or rather, a sewer-like pipe system inside this huge junkyard.

The relatively enclosed space temporarily isolated Arios from his chilling roar and crushing commotion outside.

"His!"

As soon as she regained her footing, Sylvie whirled around and ripped off the tape she had hastily stuck to Ian's mouth, the movement so rough that it almost tore off her own delicate skin.

“I know you, female Loki, the only Loki with menopause.” Ian’s comment was still brief, but infuriating; he had completely figured out the other party’s identity.

In countless parallel universes, Sylvie Laufedottir is a variant of Loki from a parallel universe. She is the daughter of Laufey, the Frost Giant King, and the "adopted daughter" of the Asgardian royal family.

Unlike Loki in the main universe, her existence was rejected by the "Sacred Timeline" from the very beginning—due to an event she inadvertently caused in her childhood, she was deemed a "threat" by the Time Mutation Administration (TVA), kidnapped and brainwashed from a young age, and lost all memories of her original family.

To survive, she changed her name to "Sylvie" and began a centuries-long life on the run, growing from a hunted "Variant" into a "Chaos Messenger" determined to destroy TVA. Later, she encountered the equally narcissistic Loki, and their love-hate relationship culminated in her achieving the "Predestination" level achievement of falling in love with herself.

Although the multiverse has not yet been rebuilt, Ian is not surprised that this female Loki was released, after all, she is the woman who had an affair with Loki, the god of stories.

Let alone America, even in the Marvel Universe, there are interpersonal relationships and kinship ties. Loki Sylvie might be in the same situation as Morgan Stark.

They all have connections in higher positions; they got in through back channels when they were "reborn."

"If you can't speak properly, then shut your mouth! I'm warning you!" Sylvie gritted her teeth, her green eyes burning with rage, almost spitting fire into Ian's face. "I've been friendly enough just now! You'd better shut up and cooperate right now, or you definitely don't want to know how many pieces I'm cutting you into in my head right now!"

She is indeed, like every Loki, not a patient person.

"Huh? Friendly?" Ian rubbed his legs, which had been dragged for more than two miles, and the artifact he was holding in his four arms swayed slightly. The cold air emanating from the Ice Treasure Box caused a layer of frost to form on the pipe walls. "You call this the attitude of begging someone, dragging me into the sewer like a sack of potatoes?"

"While I don't know what tricks you Lokis are up to this time, or what you're trying to get out of me, that doesn't mean you can infringe on my personal rights!"

"I'm still a child! My legs are so tender!" Although Ian still had some unanswered questions, that didn't stop him from showing his ugly face.

If the evil god didn't have an ugly face, how could he be evil?

"Ask someone for help? A child?"

Sylvie raised her voice as if she had heard the biggest joke in the world.

“I’m not begging you, you self-righteous little bastard! I’m doing this at the request of… a great being, to make you hand over what you’ve hidden!”

Her eyes were fixed on Ian with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Something that's been hidden?"

Ian was taken aback, and instinctively gripped the weapons in all four hands tighter. "What am I hiding? Do I look like someone who would take something and then need to hide it?"

"I'm here, and everything is legally free." Although Ian doesn't have the mission that comes with his dark skin, he does have the privileges that the Marvel Universe has given him.

"Stop playing dumb!" Sylvie interrupted him impatiently. "Hand it over. It should be some kind of starter? Or a key? Or maybe some kind of safety device?"

"In short, it's the key to saving everything!" She wasn't entirely sure herself, a hint of frustration flashing across her face, after all, she hadn't had much interaction with the real story god.

The opponent is too weak.

It's difficult for me to speak.

And he also picked up the habit of being a riddle teller.

"He pulled me back from the crack in time and only told me that I needed to find the key to restarting the multiverse from you! He didn't say anything else!"

Sylvie revealed a few details while observing Ian's changing expression.

“You don’t even know what you’re looking for… How can I show you my collection? They’re all treasures; they could save everything if they were in my hands.”

Ian was also somewhat helpless.

Although he could guess who had sent Sylvie to find him, he hadn't yet reached the level of omniscience, and his super brain alone couldn't make any sense of it.

“It seems you know who he is.” Sylvie’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t answer the question about “him,” only becoming more certain that the item was on Ian.

"Stop talking nonsense! Hand it over!" With that, she actually reached out and, ignoring Ian's protests and the obstruction of his four arms, began to grope him haphazardly.

The woman's hand brushed across the cold, mimicry armor, trying to find some hidden pocket or mechanism.

"Hey! Hey! Stop it! Didn't you hear me? I'm still a child! Are you a pervert?!" Ian felt uncomfortable being touched by the female Loki Sylvie.

The thought that this was also Loki gave him goosebumps. In the chaos, Ian finally caught Sylvie's groping hand that was trying to probe into one of his secret places.

"No, big sister, although I am indeed very powerful, I am not powerful enough to hide anything inside my Guan Yu!"

Ian suddenly became "small" angry.

"I think you're just pretending to be confused!" Sylvie was completely enraged. She swiftly drew a sharp dagger with her other hand and held it directly to Ian's neck, threatening viciously, "Don't move! If you move again, I'll bleed you! Let's see if your blood is as repulsive as you are!"

That's just Sylvie's spoiled princess attitude.

She had initially thought Ian was a child who valued his life.

however.

The next second, something happened that left her speechless.

"Ok?"

Ian simply tilted his head to look at the gleaming dagger at his neck, then... opened his mouth, leaned in, and with a "snap" sound like he was eating a cookie.

[Entropy Annihilation Lord Experience Points +78]

Sylvie's Uru dagger turned into a crunchy shark, which Ian swallowed whole without even chewing, turning into valuable life experience.

"The taste is so-so, and the energy content is too low."

He also took on the role of a food critic and offered sharp commentary.

"?????"

Sylvie, holding the dagger hilt that was now only half intact, was completely dumbfounded. Her brain couldn't process the information that "someone ate my dagger alive." Just as she was momentarily stunned by the bizarre scene, about to erupt into an even more intense rage after the initial shock, she...

boom! ! !
A loud bang suddenly came from above them!

The entire sewer system shook violently, sending rusty metal fragments and dust raining down. Then came Elios's greedy and furious roar, a roar that seemed to tear the soul apart.

Close at hand!

It found them!

Sylvie, who had just been fierce and ready to fight to the death, turned deathly pale upon hearing that voice. She was as frightened as a startled quail, all her anger and violence vanished, leaving only primal fear. Almost instinctively, she grabbed Ian's arm, her voice trembling uncontrollably.

"Run...run! It's coming!!" The earth trembled, shook, and shuddered.

Above the underground passage, in the sky, stood Elios, the civil servant of the end of time, whose enormous body, made of abandoned spacetime energy, almost completely obscured the eerie sky.

It doesn't have a fixed mouth, but at this moment, on the part of it facing the ground, a huge, twisted vortex is forming, emanating an irresistible and terrifying suction force!
A true maw of the abyss!
This is not a physical attraction, but a more fundamental, devouring force targeting time, space, and existence itself! The earth is wailing, with countless mountains of garbage and debris—broken spaceships, the wreckage of the Titanic, ancient stone pillars, abandoned cars… and even the very things that make up this land.

They were all as if seized by an invisible giant hand, lifted off the ground, and brutally pulled towards that vortex of destruction!

"Roar! Roar! Roar! Roar! Roar!" Wherever Elios passed, everything was reduced to the most primal energy and nothingness, not even light could escape.

Even hiding in the underground pipes, Ian and Sylvie felt the deadly pulling force! The pipes twisted violently, emitting a metallic groan of unbearable strain, and the rivets securing the structure flew off one by one!

Even more terrifying, the "ground" beneath their feet began to become unstable, with tiny fragments and dust flowing upwards and being drawn towards the monster above the ground at the molecular level!

“This suction...this vibration…” Ian was being dragged by Sylvie through the violently vibrating pipe that seemed on the verge of collapse. Instead, he looked up at the substance being continuously drawn away from him, his expression one of utter astonishment. “If only I could catch it and take it back to my hometown and give it to my best brother’s mother.”

"My best friend's mom will definitely love it so much that she won't care about my little Guan Yu anymore!" Ian was really tempted and wanted to capture this Marvel version of Rayquaza.

"I see! You're mentally ill!"

Sylvie, who was running ahead, stumbled and almost fell. She turned around and glared at Ian with the look of utter disbelief, thinking that this guy was absolutely insane and had no idea what kind of ultimate terror and danger Elios represented! It was a monster that could even devour the timelines of the multiverse!

Of course, she couldn't care less about complaining about Ian right now. It seemed that Elios could accurately sense her and Ian's location even through the thick layers of earth!
No matter how they navigated the intricate network of pipes, the terrifying suction and destructive vibrations were always there, getting ever closer! It was as if the monster wasn't blindly devouring its prey, but rather toying with and forcing it, reveling in their desperate escape!
"Damn it!"

Sylvie's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and her breathing became rapid.

She could feel the walls of the pipes around her thinning and twisting at a visible speed, and the roars and devouring sounds of Elios outside were becoming clearer and clearer.

“We can’t escape like this!” Sylvie’s voice trembled with despair as she looked sharply at Ian beside her, who was still making comments and seemed unaware of the meaning of fear.

"You little madman!! Loki values ​​you so much, you must be more than just a madman! Do you have any other ideas?!" Sylvie felt that behind Ian's madman persona, there must be something extraordinary about him.

“Of course there is a way. The most valuable asset that Master Ian possesses is his super brain.” Upon hearing this, Ian weighed the weapons on his four arms.

His golden, mimicry compound eyes flashed.

"We can..."

Ian was just about to show off his 360,000 strategy.

However, just as he was about to launch into a long speech...

boom! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A terrifying, indescribable crashing sound came from directly above!

Elios seemed to have lost patience and slammed its ethereal yet incredibly heavy body into the earth!

Crashed!

The entire underground pipe system where Ian and Sylvie were located was completely overturned like a toy at that moment! Countless metal fragments, concrete blocks, and all kinds of debris were flying everywhere!

"Damn it! No sportsmanship!" Ian and Loki Sylvie were thrown into the sky like shrapnel from an explosion by the unimaginable force of the impact!

"what--!"

Sylvie let out a short scream as the feeling of weightlessness gripped her instantly.

After taking flight, the two crashed heavily back onto the messy ground, kicking up clouds of dust. Sylvie choked on the dirt and coughed violently.

"Forehead……"

Ian isn't like Versailles; he can fly, so of course he won't fall flat on his face. Just like a fairy doesn't poop, Ian will never be embarrassed.

"Cough cough cough~"

Sylvie was truly covered in dust and grime. She struggled to lift her head, her pupils suddenly contracting. Elios's enormous, ever-changing, terrifying body was slowly approaching, and that destructive vortex of maw had re-formed, aimed at their location! The shadow of death was clearer than ever before!
"You little madman! Use whatever method you have!!"

Sylvie shouted.

He tried to get up using both his hands and feet.

She had just gotten up when she saw Ian do something that made her brain freeze: Ian pulled out two... dark, hairy legs that looked like they had just been taken from some unlucky guy and were carefully wrapped in plastic wrap... human legs?!

"What are you going to do!"

Sylvie received no response.

With lightning speed, Ian used his extra pseudo-arms to deftly bind the two "external black hairy legs" firmly to Sylvie's legs.

External legs rental complete!

"It does not make sense!"

Sylvie was completely dumbfounded.

Before she could react, Ian himself had already nimbly climbed onto her back, clinging to her like a koala, his free hands still tightly clutching the Frost Box.

"No way! You're five centimeters taller than me!" Sylvie was dumbfounded, feeling like she was being entangled by a giant piece of chewing gum that she couldn't tear off no matter what she did.

"Stop talking nonsense, I still need to control that monster, run! Run! Female Loki! Run, Sylvie, run!"

Ian shouted in Sylvie's ear.

His tone even carried a hint of excitement as he imitated a classic line from The Flash.

"??????"

Sylvie is going crazy!

What kind of time is this?! What is this madman doing?! Tying two dead people's legs to himself?! And he's carrying this giant baby on his back?!
Just as she was about to use magic to violently throw this lunatic off her back.

hum!
Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that she failed to show off her skills in front of Ian, who considered himself a master of magic. Suddenly, those two hairy black legs wrapped in plastic wrap emitted an indescribable, twisted aura! Immediately afterward, Sylvie felt an incredibly violent force, completely beyond her control, instantly pour into her legs!

"Whoosh-!"

Her body was completely out of her control, and she shot out like an arrow!

The speed was far beyond her imagination, even leaving afterimages! The ground rushed past beneath her feet, and the wind whistled sharply in her ears!

"Hahaha! Even though you don't have a snowball to push right now, we're alchemist Nunu now!" Ian Tenn on his back started fiddling with the ice treasure box in his arms.

Instead of directly releasing the extreme cold from the treasure box—enough to freeze an entire country—he used a peculiar method to guide the icy air from the treasure box to spray backward like a fart.

That wasn't pure blue extreme cold.

Instead, it was a colorful, chilling aura.

It's obvious that a lot of technology and advanced techniques have been added.

A strange, multicolored icy breath, a mixture of extreme low temperatures, corrosive energy, mental toxins, chaotic magical fluctuations, and countless other negative effects, was sprayed precisely behind their fleeing path, like the trail of an alchemist's deadly poison, forming a long, colorful, yet deadly trail of smoke!

Elios, who was roaring and chasing after them, crashed headfirst into the colorful, icy exhaust fumes!

Hiss!
Even Elios, who could devour everything, was visibly momentarily stunned when faced with this unprecedented chilling aura that was a mixture of various cosmic-level "pollutants"!
Strange, multicolored ice crystals condensed on its ethereal body surface, its devouring speed noticeably slowed down, and it even emitted a roar that sounded like it had been poisoned—angry and uncomfortable! Ian's methods were still incredibly effective; the monster's pursuit was effectively slowed down!

"Is this okay?"

Sylvie, who kept looking back, saw this scene, her emerald eyes filled with disbelief and astonishment! Of course, she recognized it as the Frost Giants' treasure of Jotunheim—the Frost Casket! But the power of the Frost Casket was pure, extreme, icy blue cold, not some colorful thing with so many fancy negative effects!

"What...what did you do to the Frozen Treasure Chest?!" Sylvie shouted with difficulty as she ran, the wind whistling in her ears, her tone no less than that of an Italian seeing strawberry spaghetti with hot oil.

"I used a bit of ingenuity, and my super-precious blood, and the Frost Treasure Box atomized my super-precious blood." Ian's tone was as relaxed as if he were discussing what to have for dinner, even carrying a hint of pride. He seemed to already see his future as an emperor who could suppress mountains and seas with just a drop of his blood.

"??????"

Did you add some of your own health?!
Sylvie's eyelids twitched violently, and her stomach churned. She finally understood what that multicolored poison was! Who would have thought it was this guy's blood?!
Whose blood is so poisonous that it can even affect a time monster?!
Is this scientific?

Is this magic?

Sylvie couldn't fathom what kind of filthy thing was carrying on her back. This blood poison was so potent that even a peak Thor, or the strongest version of Odin, couldn't withstand it!

She was about to say something to complain when Ian interrupted her.

“Hey, Loki, I have a question. Why are you so afraid of it? I remember… didn’t you tame it?” Ian’s voice suddenly became serious. He was referring to the time when Loki and Sylvie teamed up to tame Helios in the final battle at the Time Mutation Agency (TVA).

"Huh? You even know that?"

Upon hearing this, Sylvie frowned deeply, her running speed undiminished: "You really are from 'that era'... but why do I have absolutely no recollection of you?"

She searched through all her memories, including those of other Loki variants, but found no information about the mad boy.

“Oh, you’re the second person to say that.” Ian said thoughtfully, not answering the question about his origins, but sticking to his initial curiosity.

"You haven't answered my question yet."

He felt that Sylvie should have been able to control the monster.

It's like training a dog.

however.

The reality was far different from what he had imagined. In fact, Ian could even sense from Sylvie the fear that this Loki mutant shouldn't have felt towards the Time Monster.

“I just landed not long ago, but I can tell you this.” Sylvie gritted her teeth, looking at Elios behind her, which, although slowed down, was still in hot pursuit, and a deep sense of fear and anger flashed in her eyes: “That’s because… the ruler who is now controlling it is extremely evil.”

Upon hearing this, Ian seemed to realize something and asked in surprise, "Conqueror Kang has returned? That's not right, wasn't he wiped out conceptually by the feminists?"

This is Marvel anecdotes known only to Ian.

Sylvie couldn't understand.

However, she already had some understanding of Ian's "words of wisdom," so she didn't ask or dwell on it. Instead, she lowered her voice and spoke with great apprehension, her eyes gleaming.

“No, not Kang the Conqueror. If you are truly a survivor from ‘that era,’ perhaps you won’t forget another name… a name that nearly destroyed everything and turned countless realities into scorched earth.” She paused, as if uttering that name itself required immense courage.

In the end, she gritted her teeth and uttered that chilling answer.

"Almighty God... Ultron."

Her voice was very low.

"The Time Mutation Authority (TVA), and all of this... are now under Ultron's control." Sylvie's words echoed at the end of this chaotic and desperate time.

Every word carried a weight that made her feel suffocated.

That was more than just an artificial intelligence; it was an ultimate destruction program that nearly turned reality into inorganic dust, one of the darkest chapters in Avengers history.

"Ultron?"

Ian was also somewhat surprised.

Of course he still remembers the role.

In the Marvel multiverse, Ultron, a super AI villain created by humans, has countless evolved versions, with his combat power ranging from "city-level threat" to "multiverse devourer".

The limitless possibilities bestowed upon Ultron by Tony Stark himself are Ultron's greatest asset.

"Yes, it's Ultron."

Sylvie gritted her teeth, carrying Ian and those two strange black hairy legs that gave her insane speed, and ran wildly across a messy garbage plain, dodging the intermittently spewed energy breaths of Elios that could annihilate existence.

“We don’t know how he did it!” Her voice was torn apart by the wind. “By the time we noticed something was wrong, he had already replaced the ‘Remnant’ and sat on the throne of time! He has assimilated and modified all the systems of TVA! He is now the master of time itself!”

.........

Time Mutation Administration.

The highest authority room.

This contrasts sharply with the chaos and decay at the end of time.

The room was vast and boundless, as if one were at the heart of the universe. Beyond the enormous, curved, transparent walls lay not the pitch-black expanse of space, but an endless, flowing, and dazzling cosmic light.

Countless newly formed galaxies rotate slowly like embryos, while unbloomed cosmic bubbles are like pearls embedded in the veins of time, radiating gentle yet powerful energy fluctuations. It is so quiet here that you can hear your own heartbeat, and every breath seems to breathe in and out the birth and death of stars.

Gwen Stacy, or rather, Ian’s first blessed servant, Quantum Spider-Man, stands before this magnificent and awe-inspiring sight, gazing at the breathtaking view outside.

She was no longer wearing that familiar Spider-Man suit.

Instead, she changed into a fitted, silver-white TVA special agent combat uniform with blue flowing lines, which accentuated her agile figure.

“Therefore, we need to find the secrets buried in history.” Gwen’s blonde hair was tied back, and her face showed a hint of fatigue, but more so a firm sense of mission. In her hand, she held a palm-sized, extremely precise, silver-white instrument whose surface constantly flashed with tiny streams of data.

It looks like a locator, or some kind of interface device.

Her gaze fell upon a holographic projection platform in the center of the room. On the platform, a virtual image of a middle-aged male butler, composed of soft light and possessing a classic and reliable appearance, was flickering slightly—it was Jarvis, the virtual form of Tony Stark's most trusted AI butler.

"Jarvis."

Gwen's voice echoed in the empty room, carrying a hint of confirmation.

"Are you sure... as long as we put this on Ian Kent, we can locate the coordinates of that... 'OA-A' you mentioned?"

Her gaze was full of suspicion.

The holographic image of "Jarvis" revealed a perfect, reassuring smile, his voice gentle and magnetic, with a convincing calmness.

"Yes, we need the power of the OAA. Only in this way can the multiverse, which has been forcibly contracted and imprisoned, once again bloom with the infinite hope and possibilities that we all yearn for."

“This is the only way to break the deadlock and save all of reality. Your mission is crucial, Gwen.” Jarvis’s projection flickered slightly.

His tone became more earnest and earnest.

“Okay, I understand.” Ge Wei looked at the small instrument in her hand, and then at the countless frozen, controlled, and undeveloped primordial universes outside the window.

She took a deep breath.

“Since you say that Ian himself may not even remember this, then I will find Ian Kent and complete this mission to save the multiverse.”

Gwen made a guarantee.

Jarvis in the holographic projection showed an approving and encouraging smile.

“Very good. You and Tony are both trustworthy partners.” Jarvis said with emotion, but no one could see what was hidden in the data behind its eyes.

(End of this chapter)