The Reactions of the Cosmos
The Shadow Monarch's rise was a cataclysm that sent ripples across the fabric of reality. His conquest was not just the fall of a kingdom, but a shift in the very balance of power.
Those who once thought themselves invincible, eternal, or untouchable suddenly found themselves staring into the abyss.
And the abyss stared back.
The Celestials – Beings of Creation Take Notice
Across the vastness of existence, ancient beings stirred.
The Celestials, cosmic architects of the universe, had watched as civilizations rose and crumbled under their silent gaze.
They had seen gods war. They had seen galaxies die.
Yet this…
This was different.
Inside the ruins of a long-dead star, Arishem the Judge, the most powerful of the Celestials, turned his gaze upon the Shadow Monarch.
The very fabric of space-time trembled beneath his attention.
"A being beyond life and death…" Arishem mused, his voice like the rumble of a collapsing universe.
Other Celestials joined him, their cosmic voices resonating across dimensions.
"His power is unnatural. It does not stem from the Eternal Flame, nor the Darkforce, nor the Old Gods. It is something… deeper."
They did not yet move against him.
Not yet.
But should his power threaten the cosmic order, they would act.
For even gods had laws.
And the Celestials had no tolerance for aberrations.
The Watcher's Lament
High above, beyond the reach of gods and mortals, a lone figure watched.
Uatu, the Watcher.
His vast, piercing gaze stretched across the cosmic void, witnessing every moment as it unfolded.
And now, he watched him.
The Shadow Monarch had risen from obscurity, weaving himself into the fate of the Nine Realms, toppling Asgard, bending even death to his will.
He had seen wars, kings, and conquerors. But this one…
This one was different.
A being with no preordained fate. No written end. No cosmic law to contain him.
The Watcher's massive eyes narrowed as he gazed upon the swirling storm of shadows that followed in the Monarch's wake.
"…This is an anomaly," he muttered. "A deviation beyond all others."
For millennia, he had sworn never to interfere. But for the first time, he felt the weight of his own oath.
Would the universe survive what was coming?
Would there be anything left to watch?
And then, for the briefest moment…
The Shadow Monarch turned his head.
As if he knew he was being watched.
A chilling, knowing smirk tugged at his lips before he vanished into the abyss once more.
The Watcher took a step back.
"…Impossible."
And yet, the impossible had just begun.
This Time Variance Authority – A Dead End?
Inside the TVA Headquarters
Somewhere beyond time itself, in a vast bureaucratic nightmare of cubicles and monitors, the Time Variance Authority (TVA) was in chaos.
The TVA—an organization that prided itself on knowing everything, controlling everything—was helpless.
The fall of Asgard wasn't supposed to happen.
Mobius stood before the great timeline display, sweat forming on his brow.
A single name flashed across every screen.
"Shadow Sovereign – UNDEFINABLE VARIANT."
The Sacred Timeline was broken.
And yet, there was no variance.
No branching paths.
No timeline divergence.
The Shadow Monarch had rewritten reality, yet the timeline remained intact.
This was impossible.
Ravonna Renslayer stormed into the control room, her face unreadable as she stared at the display.
"This doesn't make sense. There's no Nexus Event. No signs of a timeline breach. But he shouldn't exist."
Mobius M. Mobius stood beside her, sipping his coffee with a grim expression.
"This guy isn't just a Variant," Mobius muttered. "He's a walking paradox. No set timeline, no fixed events. Every time we try to predict his path, it changes."
The analysts scrambled, their screens flashing red. Pruning variants had always been a simple process—capture the anomaly, reset the timeline, erase the deviation. The TVA had done this for eons, ensuring that no reality strayed from the Sacred Timeline.
But this…
This was different.
The Shadow Monarch was not a variant.
He was something beyond their understanding.
Loki variants, Kang variants, even Nexus beings—they could all be pruned, their existence erased, their reality corrected. But when the TVA tried to locate the precise moment to sever the Monarch from the timeline, the screen glitched.
Nothing.
Not a timestamp. Not a deviation marker. Not even a trace of where he truly began.
Mobius stared at the screen, a cold unease creeping into his gut.
"This shouldn't be possible," he muttered.
Beside him, a Hunter shook her head. "We've pruned Titans, sorcerers, even gods. But this? He's not just breaking the timeline… he's rewriting it."
The room fell into silence.
Mobius exhaled slowly. "Well, that's a problem."
The TVA pruned gods before.
They pruned entire timelines before.
But this?
They had no playbook for this.
Ravonna narrowed her eyes. "Get me He Who Remains. Now."
The analyst swallowed. "We… we can't."
Ravonna turned sharply. "What?"
"He Who Remains is gone," the analyst said weakly. "Killed by a different Variant… and the ones replacing him are fighting amongst themselves. We're on our own."
Mobius turned to Miss Minutes, the TVA's omnipresent AI.
"What do we do?"
The AI flickered, her usual chipper tone uncertain.
"I… I don't know, sugar."
The realization set in.
There was no one left to fix this.
No one to stop him.
The Shadow Monarch was beyond the TVA's control.
And for the first time since its inception, the TVA had no answers.