Across the globe, fate had just shifted.
The Ancient One, battered from battle and drained of the dark power that had prolonged her life, quietly acknowledged what she already knew—her time was coming to an end.
Unaware of the storm he had left behind, Lin Fan sat inside a lavish Hellfire Club villa, quietly studying the Eye of Agamotto.
It was intricate. Elegant. Ancient. He turned it in his palm, observing the finely-carved glyphs and mystical engravings etched into the metalwork. A masterpiece—yet also a lockbox holding one of the most dangerous forces in existence.
The Time Stone.
He'd claimed it, but he hadn't earned it—yet. The Eye remained sealed.
Lin Fan wasn't worried.
The Ancient One gave me a year, he thought. I probably won't need that long.
He slipped the pendant around his neck. The glow flickered for a second—recognition, perhaps—but faded.
That was fine.
He had bigger plans.
Two Infinity Stones were already on Earth: the Time Stone, and the Space Stone—currently in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s vault. But Lin Fan wasn't in a rush. He had other targets too.
The Phoenix Force. Wanda Maximoff. Chaos Magic.
Each one powerful enough to threaten him if left unchecked. And each one now on his list.
---
Nearby, Psylocke stood still—silent.
The events of the last twenty-four hours had shattered her perception of power. She had witnessed a being—Lin Fan—casually destroy Dormammu, a creature she hadn't even known existed until that moment.
Mutants? Guns? Psychic blades?
They were nothing in comparison.
She'd always considered herself dangerous. Now she felt small.
----
The villa was silent. Seven figures stood cloaked in shadows, lined up beneath a chandelier that hadn't swung in decades. They knew who was coming.
When Lin Fan stepped through the doors, the air shifted—power walked in with him.
He stopped just short of the center and looked around.
"You've all played king and queen long enough," he said flatly. "Now get on your knees."
They didn't move.
Not right away.
Then Sebastian Shaw, former Black King, took a cautious step forward. "You're not one of us. You think you can just—"
Lin Fan looked at him. Just looked.
The floor beneath Shaw cracked.
Boom.
Every other figure dropped to a knee instantly. Heads down. No hesitation this time.
Shaw was the last.
He lowered himself slowly, jaw clenched, pride shattered.
"You didn't even raise your hand…" whispered the White Queen—Emma Frost, her voice barely audible.
"I didn't need to," Lin Fan replied.
He walked among them like a general inspecting broken weapons.
"You built your empire on secrets and whispers," he said. "Now, you serve someone who doesn't need either."
"Who are we to you?" Emma asked, daring to lift her gaze. "Soldiers? Slaves?"
"You're tools," Lin Fan said. "But useful ones. Keep it that way, and we won't have problems."
No one argued.
Psylocke stepped forward, her psychic blade igniting in one hand. She didn't kneel.
"I'm not one of them," she said. "I didn't come here to bow."
Lin Fan turned. Calm. Curious.
"Then why are you here?"
"To get stronger," she said, voice tight. "I've seen what you can do. And I'm tired of being second-tier."
"And if I say no?"
She shrugged. "Then I'll find another way."
Lin Fan smirked. "Ballsy. I respect that."
He paused, then nodded toward the kneeling Hellfire Seven.
"They followed out of fear. You… you're reaching for something else."
"I'm done living at the bottom," she said. "If there's a price, I'll pay it."
His smile faded.
"Alright, Braddock. Let's see if you've got the stomach for power."
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