"The 'snap' is probably code for some kind of extinction event," Tony said, adjusting his glasses. "Think about it like this: if the President wanted to end the world, he wouldn't do it himself. He'd just press the red button. Following Lucas's sarcastic logic, we could call that the 'Red Button Incident.'"
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Just from the name alone, we can't tell how catastrophic it actually is."
The others' eyes lit up. Tony had just reframed the entire problem. The phrase "snap his fingers" sounded almost trivial—but the reality behind it could be far worse than any of them imagined.
"Based on how much Lucas fears this event," Tony continued, "I'm inclined to believe that in the original timeline, the snap actually happened. And the Purple Titan succeeded. If it had been stopped, Lucas wouldn't be this worried. My guess? Once the snap happens, everyone dies. No exceptions. It's not an attack you can dodge by hiding somewhere. It's universal and absolute."
The analogy clicked. Like a nuclear blast—if you were in range, it didn't matter where you hid. You were dead.
"The question is," Fury said slowly, "whether the event where Tony saves the world—the one Lucas mentioned before—is this event. If it is, then it's not hopeless."
"Or," Tony countered, his voice grim, "this timeline is already a dead end. A discarded draft. Lucas said some timelines get abandoned, right? Maybe this is the one where the Purple Titan won. Where the snap succeeded. And the writers scrapped it because the ending was too bleak—everyone dead, no way to fix it. So they pivoted to a different timeline."
The room went silent.
If the screenwriters outside the Fourth Wall abandoned a timeline, they could just move on to another draft. But the people inside that timeline? They had nowhere to go. They'd just die along with it.
"And the snap is probably irreversible," Tony added. "Or at least, extremely difficult to prevent. Otherwise, Lucas would've done everything in his power to stop it."
He leaned back, thinking aloud.
"At first, I thought maybe the snap was like carpet-bombing the Earth—annihilating all surface life. But it's not just Earth. Even Loki, all the way in Asgard, dies too. So I started thinking bigger. What if the snap affects the entire universe? A causality-based weapon. Doesn't matter where you hide—across galaxies, in other dimensions—you're still dead. That's the only explanation that fits."
Fury rubbed his temples. The threat was enormous, the information sparse. All they knew for certain was that the crisis was massive, terrifying, unavoidable, and nearly impossible to stop.
It felt like a hinge point in history. A before and after. Two entirely different eras.
The weight of it pressed down on everyone.
Then the diary updated.
[The Return of the Thunder God!]
A video file appeared beneath the text.
Thor exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him. Finally—this was what he'd been waiting for. A chance to see how he'd reclaim his power.
He tapped the video immediately.
The footage began with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif gathered together in a small desert town. Thor stood among them.
"Those are the Warriors Three of Asgard," Thor explained to the group. "And that's Lady Sif."
The others cross-referenced with their knowledge of Norse mythology and nodded.
Above the town, storm clouds churned. From within the black sky, a massive armored figure descended—gleaming metal, towering and terrifying.
"That's the Destroyer," Thor said, his voice tight. "One of Asgard's ultimate weapons. Nearly indestructible. Strong enough to level a city in minutes. But only my father has the authority to control it. Why would it be here?"
On screen, Coulson appeared, standing in front of the Destroyer with a megaphone.
"You're wielding unregistered weapons technology," Coulson announced, attempting to sound authoritative. "Identify yourself."
Coulson watched himself on screen and winced. He looked like an idiot.
The Destroyer didn't bother responding. A searing beam of energy erupted from its faceplate, scattering Coulson and his team like ragdolls.
From a distance, Thor saw the devastation and turned to Jane Foster.
"Jane, you need to evacuate. Now."
"What about you?" Jane asked, refusing to move.
"I'm staying."
Thor's expression was resolute. This was his fault. His mess to clean up. If he ran now, the entire town would be destroyed.
"Thor's going to fight with us!" one of the Warriors Three shouted, grinning with pride. This was the Thor they remembered—the warrior who never backed down.
But Thor shook his head as he approached them.
"My friends, I'm just a mortal now. If I stay, I'll probably get you all killed."
He turned to Jane.
"But I can get these people to safety."
"If you're staying, then so am I," Jane said firmly, her jaw set. There was no room for argument.
Thor didn't try to change her mind. He knew he couldn't.
"Then we need time," he said.
"You'll have it," the Warriors Three replied in unison.
They began evacuating the town. Honestly, they barely needed to convince anyone—the sight of a fifteen-foot-tall metal giant smashing through buildings was motivation enough. Anyone with a functioning brain was already running.
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