Chapter 147
Arc 9 - Ch 14: The Citadel At The End Of Time
Location: The Citadel at the End of Time, Beyond the Void
The Citadel at the End of Time rose from a mountain suspended in nothingness. The space around them wasn't empty. It glowed with distant stars, aurora, and nebulae of various colors in the distance. But it wasn't true space; it was cosmic mists, a barrier their minds had conjured to contain the infinite nothingness at the end of time. The Citadel's architecture was a blend of medieval and gothic stone. Massive columns flanked the entrance. At the center stood a door, easily ten feet tall, made of a dark wood.
Tyson guided their floating metal platform closer to the entrance, the disc hovering silently through the void. For the first time, Sylvie saw uncertainty in him. There had been other moments since they joined together. He'd looked contemplative after killing the Lokis. But now he looked genuinely torn.
"I was thinking of kicking in the door, but your expression makes me think otherwise." Tyson chuckled lightly but didn't say anything, his attention still fixed on the imposing entrance. She continued, "Well, if you think it's a bad idea, I prefer you to speak your mind. I've spent my entire life searching for this place."
Her entire life, decades, maybe centuries, of running, hiding, surviving, all aimed at reaching this place. And he was the one hesitating, the one potentially holding her back from the moment that defined her existence. How many times had he been the one making decisions for others, choosing what battles to fight, which risks to take? With House of M, with everyone he'd ever cared about. And now here, with Sylvie staring at the culmination of everything she'd fought for, he was the anchor of doubt pulling her back.
Tyson took a deep breath and said, "Once we walk through that door, everything changes. I'm not sure we should."
The admission felt like defeat, like every time he'd held back when he should have acted, every moment of hesitation that had cost him. He thought of the Institute, of Jubilee's death, of watching events unfold that he could have prevented if he'd just moved faster or chosen sooner. But this wasn't the same. This time, hesitation might be the right call. Or it might be the same old pattern repeating, the same failure dressed in different reasoning.
"Well, don't you want to know who's inside?" Loki asked.
Tyson shook his head. "It's not about wanting to know. It's about what happens after we know."
The platform came to a stop several yards from the entrance, hovering in place as if waiting for their decision. Which it was, because Tyson had yet to decide how to handle the approaching situation.
Sylvie took his hand. "I know how you feel. We could all use a moment to gather ourselves." Her hand in his was warm, solid, real. It grounded him; the connection between them was something he could hold onto. They'd built it in the moments between survival and… Death.
Still, Tyson couldn't settle it. He didn't know how this would go. From what he remembered, Sylvie would… end the Sacred Timeline and kick off the multiverse. But with Tyson here, wasn't there already a multiverse? His presence had already altered events from what they should have been. The weight of potential consequences pressed down on him.
"What exactly are you afraid of?" Loki asked. Tyson hadn't looked away from the door.
"The truth," he replied simply. "The truth has a way of unraveling everything you thought you knew." In every fight, there was a moment where you commit to the attack or hold back. Once you stepped in range, once you closed the distance, the engagement was inevitable. You couldn't un-throw a punch. The door represented that point of commitment. Cross that threshold, and they'd be in whatever game waited on the other side, playing by rules he knew he didn't fully grasp.
He'd changed too much in this universe already, shifted too many variables. In tactical terms, he was operating without reliable intelligence. The patterns he'd observed before, the flow of events he'd remembered from another life, hadn't always applied. And if anything changed, it would be this. He was flying blind.
How did Tyson know this would be different? That these events wouldn't go as expected.
The sky told the story.
Looking up, Tyson recalled what it had looked like during the show he remembered. There should have been a single ring of light orbiting the Citadel at the End of Time. It represented the Sacred Timeline. But looking in the sky, he saw a ring, but there was a second ring. This one was outside the first, larger, and instead of being a single continuous beam, it was more of a wide mesh with lots of intertwined branches, yet still contained.
"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing upward. "That inner ring is the Sacred Timeline. The outer ring… I think that's our timeline."
"Two timelines? One timeline, with another made of many branches?" Sylvie asked, her voice hushed. "How is that possible if there's supposed to be only one Sacred Timeline?"
"Maybe everything we've been told is a lie," Loki suggested.
"Or maybe me being a Nexus Being has already changed how things work," Tyson murmured, more to himself than to the others. He turned back to the door, his resolve strengthening. "Whatever's behind that door might not be what any of us expect."
"Does it matter?" Sylvie asked, her hand still in his. "We've come too far to turn back now."
Kid Loki nodded. "Better to face whatever's in there than spend eternity wondering. We're variants. Our lives were already unraveled the moment the TVA decided we shouldn't exist."
Throg raised his tiny Mjölnir in agreement, a gesture of solidarity that brought a slight smile to Tyson's face despite his concerns. But then, his smile faded.
The massive door to the Citadel slowly began to swing inward, opening of its own accord.
The group entered cautiously. The citadel looked like an abandoned castle on the inside. Dust motes drifted through shafts of ethereal light that streamed through high windows.
"Hey, y'all."
A glowing figure appeared. The orange clock that seemed to be a semi-sentient being, Miss Minutes. Her sudden appearance had the group on edge. They all drew weapons and took defensive postures, except Tyson. Sylvie noticed his lack of reaction.
"Welcome to The Citadel at the End of Time," Miss Minutes chirped, her cartoon face somehow managing to look smug. "Congratulations. Y'all had an awfully long journey to get here. He's impressed."
Loki lowered his dagger slightly. "Who's impressed?"
"He Who Remains."
"And who is he?" Loki pressed.
"He created all, and he controls all. At the end, it is only He Who Remains. He's been making a few creative adjustments, and he's worked it out so we can reinsert all of y'all back into the Timeline in a way that won't disrupt things."
If He Who Remains could genuinely reinsert them into the timeline with everything they wanted, it meant he controlled more than just pruning. That kind of power didn't offer deals unless it served his purposes. What did He gain by sending them back? The smart play was always to ask what your opponent wanted from the exchange. Nobody gave something for nothing, especially not someone who'd maintained absolute control over all of reality. This was a trade, which meant he needed something from them. Probably his survival. Or maybe it was all a ploy, an offer extended that he knew wouldn't be accepted.
"Won't disrupt things?" Sylvie repeated, skeptical.
"Mmm-hmm." Miss Minutes nodded enthusiastically. "The TVA can keep doin' its vital work, and y'all can live the lives you've always wanted."
"And what have we always wanted?" Loki asked suspiciously.
Miss Minutes floated closer, her cartoon eyes somehow conveying mischief. "Now, don't play coy with me, mister. You know how you got into this mess. The Battle of New York, silly. You versus those self-righteous Avengers. How would you like to win? But not just there. You can kill Thanos. You want the Infinity Gauntlet? Yours. Throne of Asgard? No problem." She turned to Sylvie. "What about you, missy? All those years on the run. Desperate, alone. How would you like to wake up tomorrow with just a lifetime of happy memories?"
Throg croaked suspiciously. Kid Loki stood with his arms crossed, clearly wary.
Loki asked, "How can we all have what we want? You know what I want, what about him?" Loki pointed at Tyson. "He said he wants to bring me back to Asgard. We can't have both."
"It's crazy, but he could make it work," Miss Minutes said with a wink. "All of it. Everything. Exactly the way you've always wanted. And you can have it all, together."
Sylvie turned to Tyson, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why are you so quiet? You've hardly said anything since we've gotten here."
"We should take the deal."
The other Lokis looked at him incredulously. Kid Loki's mouth fell open in shock while Throg nearly dropped his hammer.
"Hear me out," Tyson said, raising his hands. "If we leave, we could be happy. You could go to Asgard, I'd join you in a few months, long enough for you to get settled." He turned to Loki. "You've seen your mistakes, and you know how your life ends, killed by Thanos. I'm not going to let Thanos win. And I've been doing my part to prevent Ragnarok." He turned to Kid Loki. "You already have us as a new family, I don't know what you want or why you chose to come with us. But there's more for you back on Asgard than there is going deeper into this castle."
Sylvie lowered her hand. "But would it be real?"
"What we have is real," Tyson said, stepping closer to her. "What we shared on Lamentis and in the Void was real. Why would this be any different? It's what we talked about before coming to this place. We can just go back. Don't you see it? Things won't be, can't be the same, because after this we're not the same."
He meant it. Every word. Because beyond the tactics, beyond the strategic assessment, beyond the potential manipulation of He Who Remains' offer, Tyson wanted what the man was selling. He wanted a life where Sylvie didn't have to run, where they could just be together without cosmic stakes hanging over every moment. He wanted the simple complicated mess of trying to figure out their relationship among all his others, instead of reality-ending decisions. He was tired of being the person who had to choose between impossible options, and he certainly didn't want to bear responsibility for outcomes that affected billions or trillions. The deal offered him permission to be selfish, to choose happiness or normalcy over responsibility. And part of him desperately wanted to take it.
The only sound was the faint ticking of Miss Minutes as she hovered, waiting. Throg croaked softly, looking between the faces of his companions.
They were silent for a minute before Loki said, "It's fiction. We write our own destiny now."
Miss Minutes' cartoon face shifted into a knowing smile, her orange glow intensifying for a moment. "Oh, sure you do. Good luck with that." Then she disappeared, leaving them alone in the vast, empty hall.
Tyson said, "Wait, wait, wait!" But Miss Minutes didn't return. He complained, "Why does he get to speak for us?"
Loki shot back, "If you don't want to continue, you have the Temp-Pad, just go back."
"What we do here matters. This isn't just some branch that the TVA will come and prune. We're beyond that now."
They had little choice but continue walking into the Citadel. Loki was in the lead with Sylvie and Tyson, with Throg on his shoulder. Kid Loki brought up the rear.
"He Who Remains," Loki said somewhat mockingly.
They entered a large chamber with statues. There were four pedestals, but only three statues remained standing. Unlike the Time Keepers, these statues were all identical, tall figures with stern faces, each holding what appeared to be a book or tablet. The fourth pedestal stood empty, its top covered in dust and debris as if its statue had been removed or destroyed long ago.
Loki touched the base of one, his fingers coming away covered in dust. He asked, "Are we sure he's even still alive?"
Then there was a creaking sound and a ding, like an elevator. It came from an archway, and the crack at the base where the archway door met the floor shone light, as if it had just been turned on on the other side. All the Lokis drew their weapons again, facing the door. Loki and Sylvie held out their daggers, while Kid Loki drew his golden sword and Throg raised his miniature Mjölnir.
When the doors opened, the elevator had a single long bench along its back wall, and sitting there, relaxed, was a black man wearing a purple and gold robe. His posture was casual, as if he had been waiting for them for a very long time. He stood and said, "This is wild. All of you…" He chuckled. "…same person. I mean, except for the frog. But…wow! Wild."
He took a bite of an apple he'd been holding when the elevator doors opened, the crunch echoing in the chamber's silence.
Sylvie asked, "He Who Remains?"
The man repeated, "He Who Remains." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "She still calls me that? Creepy, right? But… I like it." He gestured toward the elevator with his half-eaten apple. "Come on. Come on, let's talk in my office."
He stepped back, gesturing to the elevator. They all exchanged glances, uncertainty and suspicion evident. It was Tyson who stepped forward first. The others followed, Sylvie close behind him, then Loki, with Kid Loki and Throg bringing up the rear.
The elevator doors closed, leaving them confined to a metal box barely large enough for five bodies. Tyson's shoulders tensed. Enclosed spaces, no exit, no room to maneuver, it screamed trap. With Magneto's power, he should've felt secure. Instead, he positioned himself between Sylvie and He Who Remains. The man's casual apple-eating felt deliberate, performative, designed to emphasize how unthreatened he was by their presence.
Sylvie watched Tyson, concerned. But Loki kept his attention on He Who Remains, studying him without blinking.
The man said, "Not what you were expecting, hmm?"
Loki replied, "You're just… a man."
"Mmm. Flesh and blood," He Who Remains confirmed with a nod. "Don't tell me I'm a disappointment."
Sylvie said, "No. Just a little bit easier to kill."
Tyson mumbled, "Don't."
Sylvie heeded his words, pressing her back into him.
But Kid Loki had already committed, the golden blade flashing in the elevator's confined space. Tyson's hand twitched toward his own weapon, ready to follow up on the opening strike, to capitalize on whatever advantage the attack created.
He Who Remains wasn't there.
The blade cut empty air where his throat had been a heartbeat before. Not vanished. Just gone. Like he'd known the exact moment to move, the precise angle of attack before the sword began its arc. Tyson tracked the displacement. The timing was too perfect. Like a fighter who'd studied your tape, who knew your combinations before you threw them. Precognition or something close to it. A pre-programmed TemPad could have done it. But something about that felt different than when Tyson had experienced them used that way before. Either way, direct attacks were useless, he knew that from the start. His hand fell away from his weapon. No point in joining a fight they couldn't win.
Sylvie leaned back and whispered, though everyone was close enough in the tight confines of the elevator to hear, "You didn't blink when facing down Annihilus, but this man seems to have you cowed. Why?"
"It's not him, it's this place," Tyson said. "The decision."
Sylvie asked, "What decision? Loki already said no to Miss Minutes."
Tyson just shook his head as the elevator bell rang and the door began to open. The soft ding echoed with finality, as if announcing the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
The door opened to reveal a spacious office filled with artifacts and books. Standing in the doorway was He Who Remains. He took another bite of his apple and gestured them forward with his free hand.
"Come on in," he said.
They exited the elevator cautiously, weapons drawn. He Who Remains was pouring small teacups for each of them, counting aloud.
"One, Two, Three." He gestured to the chairs arranged before his desk. "Please take a seat. Four. Five."
There was a chair for each of them. Tyson was the first to sit. The others took their places, weapons still out. He Who Remains placed a teacup in front of each of them.
"Loki. Loki. Loki. Part-Loki. Thor. Two sugars." He moved methodically around the desk, setting each cup.
The whole situation was surreal. He Who Remains sat on the other side of the desk from the others. No one took their tea except Tyson. Throg didn't bother to take his seat, still perched on Tyson's shoulder.
He Who Remains addressed Sylvie first. "Been a long journey for you, hasn't it? A lot of running, a lot of pain."
He turned to Loki. "And you… You're a flea on the back of a dragon. In for one hell of a ride. But you did manage to hang on. Mmm-hmm. I guess that counts for something."
Tyson mumbled, "The flea who makes decisions for us."
Loki shot a look at him, but He Who Remains turned to Tyson and said, "In this metaphor, you're the dragon."
"Oh, nah," Tyson mumbled.
Loki interrupted, "I'm not sure you quite understand the situation. You've lost. We found you."
"Duh. Of course you did."
Kid Loki said, "If you're the one pulling the strings and sent me to the void, and destroyed my life, I'll make you pay." He swiped at He Who Remains, and he immediately disappeared from the blade's path, reappearing sitting back in his seat.
"Whoa! A swing and a miss. So, we're still doing that, hmm? Let's get all this out of the way."
Kid Loki swung again and again. Each time, He Who Remains teleported or dodged out of the way just before the strike. "Okay. Here we go. You can't kill me because I already know what's going to happen."
Three strikes, three evasions. Tyson noted the pattern. He Who Remains moved a fraction of a second before Kid Loki committed to each attack, before the point where the strike became inevitable. His magnetic senses had registered the same thing each time. It took him a few uses to recognize it.
The TemPad He Who Remains had, wasn't active.
The device was still electronic in a fashion. What Tyson couldn't put his finger on was that the evasions hadn't come with an activation or trigger from the device. It was inert.
Loki scoffed. "It's a parlor trick. It's because of that little TemPad you have there."
"Right." He Who Remains nodded. "But how do I already have it loaded up with everything I need to know to keep from being killed by you? It's easy. I know it all. And I've seen it all."
He pointed at Loki. "Your meeting in the superstore." Then he turned to Tyson. "Your fight on Lamentis." Finally, he looked at Sylvie pointedly. "Your…" he cleared his throat, "Emotional Climax… in the Void. Quite sentimental, very touching stuff, by the way." His gaze swept over all of them. "All the stuff the TVA didn't know about, I knew."
Sylvie's fingers tightened around her dagger. "No, we broke out of your little game. That's how we got here."
"No, wrong." He Who Remains shook his head, his voice remaining calm. "Every step you took to get here, Lamentis, The Void, I paved the road. You… You just walked down it."
He reached down and grabbed a few pieces of paper, holding them high. "And I have the rest, uh, right here. Everything that's, uh… that's going to happen. There's only one way this can go."
Loki asked, "Then why are we here?"
He Who Remains said, "That is exactly the question that Tyson here was trying to answer before you dismissed my lovely assistant."
Sylvie looked at Tyson. "You knew this would happen?"
He Who Remains said, "He knew, and he tried to warn you. But you weren't to be deterred." He gestured toward Tyson with his half-eaten apple. "But he should know, you can't get to the end until you've been changed by the journey. He was on the right track. But we haven't seen how much you've changed yet. This stuff, it needs to happen. To get us all in the right mindset to finish the quest."
Loki's face twisted with contempt. "Right. So, it's all a game. It's all… a manipulation."
He Who Remains turned his attention to Sylvie, suddenly serious. "Sylvie, you think you can trust this guy?" He gestured toward Loki. "Do you think you're even capable of trusting anyone at all?"
Sylvie's jaw tightened. She glanced at Tyson beside her, then back to He Who Remains. "I trust Tyson."
"So you do. It seems you have been changed by the journey." He turned to Tyson, studying him with unnerving intensity. "The question is, has the journey changed you? You're sitting there, not sure what to do, content to let events play out, just as you did back at the Institute, and at Alkali Lake."
Something moved through Tyson's face at the mention of those places, those times when he hadn't been assertive and had just let events play out, or even gone out of his way to ensure that things played out as he thought they should have. Sylvie didn't need to ask what those places meant, what ghosts He Who Remains was deliberately raising.
He Who Remains put his hands up like he was driving and continued, "You're just riding the rails, letting the journey take you where it will." He looked Tyson in the eye. "Well, buckle up, because you're going to have to choose which direction we're going in soon."
He didn't say anything in response, but glanced at Sylvie, saw her watching him.
The accusation stung because it was true. Heat rose in his chest, not anger at He Who Remains, but frustration with himself. How many times had he let others chart the course while he just held on? But Sylvie's presence beside him reminded him why that pattern existed. He'd spent so long trying not to force his will on others, not to become the person making choices for people who deserved their own agency. The balance between what should happen, between decisive action and respecting others' autonomy, these had always been his struggle. It existed with the times he hesitated and failed, in the villains he'd reformed. It existed with the women in his life.
He Who Remains continued, looking at Sylvie and Loki. "I understand your moral objections to what the TVA does. And my methods are deceptive. But the mission, it never was. Without me, without the TVA…" his voice dropped to a near whisper, "…everything burns."
Kid Loki scoffed from his seat, his golden sword still clutched tightly in his hand. "So we're supposed to just accept that you're the good guy in all this? That pruning timelines and erasing people from existence is for the greater good?"
Loki sat up straighter. "Then what are you so afraid of?"
Something crossed He Who Remains' face for the first time. Genuine fear. "Me."
Loki frowned. "And just who are you?"
He Who Remains stood from the desk, walking slowly around the room. "Oh, I've been dubbed many names by many people." He snickered. "A hero, a king, a god. But it's… It's not as simple as a name."
He paused by a window that seemed to look out onto the void beyond the Citadel. "Before the TVA, He Who Remains discovered that there were universes stacked on top of his own. At the same time, other versions were learning the same thing. Naturally, they made contact." He turned back to face them, his expression almost wistful. "And for a while, there was peace. Narcissistic, self-congratulatory peace." He adopted a mocking tone. "'I love your shoes.' 'I love your hair.' 'Oh, man, nice nose.' 'Thanks, man.' Et cetera."
Loki scoffed. "Variants congratulating each other on being superior? That does sound like us." A bitter edge crept into his voice. "And let me guess, the moment they ran out of things to praise, they started finding flaws instead?"
He Who Remains pointed at Loki with a knowing smile. "There's the narcissism I was talking about. So quick to see the pattern when it reflects your own nature." His voice darkened. "They shared technology and knowledge. Using the best of their universes to improve the others. However… not every version of was so… so pure of heart."
"Of course not," Sylvie declared as if it were obvious. "Because power doesn't corrupt people who are already corrupt. It just gives them the means to show what they've always been. How long did it take? Before the 'sharing' became conquering?"
He Who Remains tilted his head. "Perceptive. And uncomfortably quick. To some, new worlds meant only one thing, new lands to be conquered. The peace between realities…" He made an explosive gesture with his hands, accompanied by a sound effect. "…erupted into all-out war, each variant fighting to preserve their universe and annihilate the others."
He Who Remains looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Tyson last. "This was almost the end…" He chuckled, the sound hollow and devoid of humor. "…ladies and gentlemen, of everything and everyone."
"But it wasn't the end. Obviously. Since we're sitting here having tea." Kid Loki gestured at the untouched cups with his free hand, golden sword still gripped in the other. "So what stopped it?"
Loki interrupted, "Oh yes, I saw this clip already. And then the Time-Keepers came along and saved us all."
He Who Remains brought his hands together and sang, "Amen." Then he lightly said, "No." He chuckled. "No. Nope, this is where we diverge from the dogma."
His expression grew more intense. "That first variant encountered a creature created from all the tears in reality, capable of consuming time and space itself. A creature… you all know."
"Alioth," Sylvie whispered, recognition crossing her face.
"I don't understand," Kid Loki said, his golden sword now resting across his lap. "The creature in the Void? That was your pet?"
He Who Remains smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Not a pet. A weapon. A tool." He stood and walked to a large window that seemed to look out into the swirling chaos of the timeline itself. "When the Multiversal War was at its peak, when variants of He Who Remains were destroying entire realities in their conquest, I found Alioth."
Throg croaked suspiciously from Tyson's shoulder.
"The beast was already there, feeding on the fractured edges of reality," He Who Remains continued. "A natural consequence of the damage from the multiversal war."
"Alioth was the solution to an impossible problem. Would you have preferred all the realities destroyed each other? Because that was the alternative. Total annihilation versus controlled pruning. Not a pleasant choice, but a necessary one."
"You used Alioth to destroy the other timelines," she said. "And who gave you the right to make that choice? To decide which reality lives and which dies?"
"No one gave me the right," He Who Remains admitted. "Someone had to." He looked directly at Tyson. "You of all people should understand. How many times have you made impossible choices? How many times have you decided who lives and who dies? How many times will you?"
Tyson's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
"There was no alternative," He Who Remains continued. "I chose the lesser evil."
Kid Loki stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "And what about those of us who were pruned? Cast into the Void to be devoured by your pet monster? Was that the lesser evil, too?"
"Sacrifices had to be made. I made terrible choices. I beat all the variants, but I also lost those I love along the way," He Who Remains said, his voice softening slightly. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
Tyson's eyes narrowed at the quote.
Loki's bitter laugh. "How convenient that your philosophy justifies your absolute power."
"It's not about power," He Who Remains insisted. "It's about survival. About preventing something far worse from happening."
Sylvie's grip on Tyson's hand tightened. "You stole my life," she said, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "You hunted me across time like an animal. All because I dared to exist."
"Your existence threatened everything," He Who Remains replied simply. "One branch leads to another, leads to another, leads to an infinite number of branches."
"My existence," Sylvie repeated sharply. "I was eight years old. Playing with toys. Pretending to be a Valkyrie. And that threatened you?" Her voice rose despite her obvious effort to control it. "What kind of monster looks at a child playing and sees a threat to all of reality? What kind of coward hides behind 'necessary sacrifice' to justify pruning children?" The raw pain in her voice echoed through the office, years of suppressed grief finally given voice. "You're saying if we kill you, if we stop the TVA—"
"Chaos," He Who Remains finished for her. "The timeline branches uncontrollably. The barriers between realities weaken."
The room fell silent. Even Throg had stopped his suspicious croaking, seeming to sense the gravity of the moment.
"Bingo!" He Who Remains exclaimed, breaking the tension with sudden enthusiasm. "Now you know what I know. I'm holding it all together."
His gaze settled on Sylvie, then shifted to Loki. "You came to kill the devil, right?" He chuckled. "Well, guess what? I keep you safe. And if you think I'm evil, well, just wait till you meet my variants."
He pressed his hands flat on the desk. "And that's the gambit. Stifling order or cataclysmic chaos." Another chuckle escaped him. "You may hate the dictator, but something…" he exhaled deeply, "…far worse is gonna fill that void."
His expression grew distant, as if seeing beyond the confines of the room, beyond time itself. "I've lived many many lifetimes. I've gone through every scenario." His voice dropped to a near whisper, heavy with the weight of countless years. "This is the only way. The TVA works."
"For you," Tyson said harshly. "The TVA works for you. It maintains your power, your control, your version of order. But whose scenarios did you run? Just yours?" He matched He Who Remains' posture. "Because I'm betting you never ran the scenario where you weren't the one in charge. Where someone else found a different solution. Someone who wasn't you."
"Or perhaps it was your scenario. Tyson, Valravn, Master of Magnetism, Holder of more titles than Annihilus, the Nexus Being of the Second Ring," he finished, pointing to the second timeline outside the window.
Sylvie's eyes flashed with anger as she countered, "Or you're a liar."
He Who Remains lazily leaned across the table, his chin on his hand, and agreed, "Or I'm a liar." His casual admission was somehow more unsettling than any defense would have been.
Loki asked, "So you just… continue to prune innocent timelines?"
"Mmm-mmm." He Who Remains shook his head slightly. "You two would." He pointed between Loki and Sylvie. "Or maybe one of you, or any of you. There are two options! One…" he held up a finger, "you kill me and destroy all this, so you don't just have one devil, you have an infinite amount." He raised a second finger. "Or… you. You run the thing."
Loki's jaw tightened. "You're lying. Why would you give up being in control?"
He Who Remains exhaled dramatically. "Buddy… I'm tired. And I'm older. I'm older than I look. I've gone through a lot of scenarios…" He looked directly at Tyson as he continued speaking, "Trying to find the right person to take this spot." He exhaled deeply, the sound filling the silent room. "So, no more lies. You kill me, and the Sacred Timeline is completely exposed. Multiversal war. Or you take over and return to the TVA as its benevolent rulers. Tell the workforce who they are and why they do what they do. Now, we, you… have a chance to do them for a good reason."
A distant rumbling interrupted his speech, causing everyone to look around nervously. Throg croaked anxiously from Tyson's shoulder.
"We just crossed… the threshold," He Who Remains announced, his voice taking on a new edge of uncertainty.
He chuckled, the sound almost manic now. Thunder rumbled somewhere beyond the walls of the Citadel.
"Oh," he said. "So, I fibbed. I fibbed earlier when I said I know how everything's going to go. I… I know… I knew…" He chuckled again, the sound brittle and strained. "…everything up to a certain point."
The rumbling intensified, and Tyson felt it in his chest now, vibrating through his sternum like standing too close to massive speakers. Through the glass, the cosmic void seemed to ripple, distortions spreading outward like cracks in ice.
"But now I have no idea," He Who Remains continued, spreading his hands wide. "No idea how the rest of this is going to go. I'm being candid." He exhaled deeply, the sound carrying the weight of someone stepping into true uncertainty for the first time.
Sylvie looked at Tyson, questioning. Loki's gaze darted between He Who Remains and the papers scattered across his desk.
The rumbling grew louder. The very fabric of reality seemed to tremble around them, the walls of the Citadel vibrating with each new thunderous boom.
"What happens now?" Kid Loki asked.
He Who Remains smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's entirely up to you. All of you." His gaze swept across the room, lingering on each face. "I don't know what comes next."
Sylvie's hand found Tyson's again, her fingers intertwining with his. Her other hand still gripped her dagger. He squeezed back, a silent promise that whatever choice they made, they were together. No more riding the rails alone. No more letting others or fate decide while he stood aside. He'd done that, on Lamentis. She'd been there, sharing the burden of the impossible. He'd changed fate, and not shouldered it alone.
"We could end this," she whispered to Tyson. "End him. Free everyone from his control."
"And risk unleashing something worse?" Loki countered, having overheard. "If what he says is true—"
"That's a big if," Kid Loki interrupted. "He's admitted to lying already." Throg croaked in agreement.
"The choice is yours," He Who Remains said, spreading his hands. "Kill me and let chaos reign. Take my place and bear the burden of maintaining order. Or perhaps…" something lit in his expression, "…you'll surprise me with option three. Wouldn't that be something?"
Another thunderous boom shook the Citadel, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. The teacup rattled against its saucer, liquid sloshing over the rim to stain the black stone desktop. Through the tall windows, the timeline began to fracture, branches splitting off in all directions like lightning across the night sky.
"Time's running out," He Who Remains said, his voice unnervingly calm. "What's it going to be?"
Tyson let the pieces settle. The dual rings he'd seen outside. Miss Minutes' too-convenient offer. He Who Remains' casual admission of lies wrapped in truth, and truth wrapped in lies. The pattern was there, had been there all along, if he'd just stopped reacting and started reading the situation. He'd been moving blind, letting the man control the tempo, set the terms.
Everyone looked at each other, and Tyson, who'd been far too silent the entire conversation, finally spoke.
"No."
Tyson held He Who Remains' gaze, watching for the reaction, the tell. There, the smallest tightening around the eyes. Not surprise. Not disappointment. Expectation. Which meant this outcome had been known all along, which meant they hadn't moved beyond the man's supposed omniscience.
Loki asked, "What do you mean no?"
"He's lying."
He Who Remains tilted his head and smiled. "Aren't we all? Maybe you most of all."
The accusation hung in the air. Sylvie looked between them, confused. "Tyson, what is he talking about?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the massive window overlooking the swirling cosmic energy beyond the Citadel. The others followed his gaze as he pointed to a flowing silver stream of energy encircling the structure.
"That's the Sacred Timeline." His finger moved outward, indicating a larger, more complex mesh of energy surrounding the silver stream. The mesh pulsed with countless threads of light, interweaving and separating in patterns too complex to follow.
"That must be my timeline," he continued, then gestured between himself and Loki, "our timeline."
Kid Loki approached the window. Even Throg hopped from Tyson's shoulder to the windowsill, pressing tiny webbed hands against the glass.
"See how the Sacred Timeline is a singular ring, no branches?" Tyson asked, tracing the perfect circle with his finger. "Look at ours. It's a mesh. Those are choices, possibilities, changes, maybe even entire timelines running alongside and meshing with our own."
Sylvie stared at the window. "But that would mean—"
"Miss Minutes wasn't totally truthful," Tyson finished for her. "He already made those exceptions. We were never restricted. Our choices were always our own."
Behind them, He Who Remains began to clap slowly, the sound echoing through the suddenly silent room. He looked genuinely pleased. Maybe even proud. "Once again, I have led the horse to water," he said, spreading his hands wide. "You're welcome."
Loki stepped forward, his face a mask of barely contained rage. "So this was all just another game? Another manipulation?"
"Not a game," He Who Remains corrected. "A test. And you passed." He looked directly at Tyson. "Well, he passed."
Sylvie turned to Tyson. "You knew? All this time?"
Tyson shook his head. "Not until now. Not until I saw it with my own eyes. The signs were there, I just needed to put the pieces together." He gestured back to the window. "Our timeline exists outside the Sacred Timeline. It always has."
"But why?" Kid Loki demanded, turning from the window to face He Who Remains. "Why create the illusion of control if you were allowing another timeline to exist freely all along?"
He Who Remains sighed, suddenly looking every bit as ancient as he claimed to be. "Because freedom without boundaries isn't freedom. It's chaos. And chaos…" he gestured to the rumbling that continued to shake the Citadel, "…well, you're seeing what chaos brings."
"The other variants," Loki said, understanding crossing his face. "They're coming."
"They're always coming," He Who Remains confirmed. "Always have been. The difference is, now I'm not the one who needs to stop them." He looked at Tyson. "You are."
Throg croaked indignantly from the windowsill, as if offended by the suggestion.
"Why me?" Tyson asked, though his expression suggested he already knew the answer.
"Because you're a Nexus Being," He Who Remains said simply. "One of the few entities in existence that can affect the direction of the timeline. Your very existence anchors not just that timeline, but that reality, that multiverse."
And there it was. The words should have felt like revelation, like finally understanding a truth that had been lurking at the edges of his awareness. Instead, they felt like a sentence. Like a cosmic joke at Tyson's expense. He thought of every moment he'd tried to live a normal life, to find peace, to just be instead of always becoming something larger or something's target. All of it might have been illusion, if his very existence was meant to serve reality's need for an anchor for all of that mess in the sky. This wasn't supposed to be how it was. The Ancient One had assured him… Okay, had hinted that there was no TVA. And now he learned it was all predetermined anyway, his free will an illusion maintained by a function he served just by existing. He wasn't a person making choices that mattered. He was a cosmic anchor, fulfilling a purpose written into reality by He Who Remains. Everything he'd fought for was reduced to window dressing on a role he'd never consented to play.
"Is that true?" Sylvie muttered.
Tyson wanted to deny it, to reject the classification that made him a cosmic tool rather than a person making choices. But pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. Why the TVA had never pruned his timeline despite its obvious deviations, and all the time they could have while he was on Lamentis. Why his choices and presence seemed to ripple outward. Had any of his choices truly been his own, or had he been performing a role written into reality's fabric by He Who Remains?
Tyson nodded slowly. "It makes a sort of sense."
He'd felt it when his presence shifted things in ways that it shouldn't. He'd attributed it to his actions, to his metaknowledge, to luck or coincidence.
But had it been this all along?