Swish!

The sudden displacement of air heralded Alex's arrival, the sound slicing through the tense quiet like a blade. One instant, the space before the Avengers was empty; the next, Alex was standing there—broad-shouldered, calm, and utterly unbothered by the collective shock radiating from the room.

Every pair of eyes locked on him immediately.

The expressions he found were a cocktail of emotions—hostility in some, wariness in others, the faintest flicker of concern, and yes, even a reluctant sort of relief. It was the kind of reception usually reserved for nuclear weapons: dangerous, unpredictable, but potentially lifesaving in the right hands.

"It's really him… Alex."

The murmur carried a mix of disbelief and inevitability, as though they'd all known, deep down, that this day might come—yet still weren't ready for it.

"Never thought I'd see this guy again."

Even Rocket, normally the first to crack a joke or throw an insult, muttered under his breath with unusual restraint. His furry face was uncharacteristically still, save for the twitch of one ear.

Alex's eyes narrowed slightly.

"So this is the future?"

He let the words hang in the air as his gaze swept the room.

Only seconds ago, he'd been standing in his own base, issuing last-minute instructions to Charles and Erik, his mind already moving a dozen steps ahead. Now, in the blink of an eye, the world around him had shifted—familiar yet altered, like stepping into a vivid memory that wasn't entirely his own.

The sensation of time travel was… interesting. Not disorienting, not dizzying—just a strange, almost exhilarating awareness that he'd sidestepped the natural flow of events.

He took in the details: the stark lighting, the faint scent of metal and machine oil, the low hum of the equipment—exactly as he remembered from Avengers: Infinity War.

And, of course, the people.

Dozens of eyes bore into him, their scrutiny heavy enough to be felt. Alex's lips curved in an easy smirk.

"No one ever teach you it's rude to stare?"

That broke the stillness, if only a little.

"Alright, everyone."

Captain America stepped forward, voice steady, posture as straight as ever. His presence had a way of grounding the room.

"This is Alex. You all know who he is, so I won't waste time reintroducing him. Alex, let me introduce—"

"No need."

Alex cut him off with a casual wave, his eyes already roving across the gathered faces, each identified without hesitation.

"The Hulk—no, wait, now you're just Bruce Banner. Scott Lang, Ant-Man. Rocket Raccoon. Nebula, Thanos' daughter. Clint Barton, Hawkeye. And… oh, right. Fat Thor—sorry, Thor." His smirk widened. "Pleasure to meet you all."

The ease with which he named them landed like a thunderclap.

Tony and Steve exchanged looks, eyebrows climbing in silent question.

The other Avengers stiffened, surprise flashing across their faces.

Alex knew every single one of them.

That shouldn't have been possible. In his timeline, some of these people hadn't even existed yet. Others hadn't donned their mantles, hadn't fought their battles.

There was no logical reason for his familiarity.

The first suspicion fell on Tony and Steve.

Had they briefed him? Walked him through photos, dossiers, anything that could explain this? But why would they? And even if they had, how could a secondhand description match the easy certainty in Alex's voice?

"Don't look at me."

Tony's hands shot up as the accusing glances landed on him. "I swear I didn't tell him anything about any of you."

He jabbed a finger toward Steve for emphasis. "Hell, when Steve and I first met him in the past, he recognized us immediately."

The ripple of confusion thickened.

Wait, what?

That meant Alex's uncanny knowledge had nothing to do with their arrival here.

Thor's eyes narrowed. "So, Alex… how do you know us? Is this another one of your powers—seeing the future?"

It wasn't an unreasonable guess. Alex's reputation already stretched beyond what most mutants—or even gods—could dream of. Adding precognition wouldn't exactly break the pattern.

Before Alex could respond, Captain America's voice cut in, bringing the focus sharply back to the mission at hand.

"Alright, Alex. We've held up our end—we brought you to the future. Now, about the Tesseract… can we please borrow it?"

The weight of the request hit the room like a drop in atmospheric pressure. Silence settled over them, tense and watchful.

Every Avenger fixed their gaze on Alex. The stakes were as high as they'd ever been; the success of their mission, the lives of half the universe, all balanced on the pivot of his answer.

Thor's jaw tightened. Bruce shifted slightly, ready for anything. They all knew if Alex refused, there was only one way forward—and none of them wanted to take it.

Alex didn't make them wait.

"Of course."

The relief was immediate but cautious, like soldiers hearing the first whispers of a ceasefire.

Without ceremony, Alex extended the case toward Steve.

He'd already decided. The Avengers could be trusted. They weren't manipulators or petty schemers. If they said the Tesseract was needed to undo the Snap, then that was what it was for. And Alex kept his word—always.

Steve stepped forward, taking the case with care. He exhaled quietly as he flicked the latches open.

A flood of cool blue light spilled across the table, painting their faces in an otherworldly glow.

"The Tesseract!"

"It's really here!"

For a moment, the room was united in pure, unfiltered relief. After so much chaos, so many dead ends, the goal was finally within reach.

"Thank you, Alex."

Steve's voice carried genuine gratitude.

"Don't mention it, Rogers. Just keeping my promise."

Alex's shrug was effortless, but there was a finality to it.

"Now then… good luck, everyone. I'll leave you to it."

With a mock salute, he blurred out of existence, a sudden gust of wind swirling in his wake.

Whoosh.

For a few seconds, no one moved.

Only when he was gone did several Avengers release the breaths they'd been holding.

"That guy… still as terrifying as ever."

War Machine shook his head slowly, eyes narrowing at Tony.

"Tony, was he always that strong back then?"

"Bringing him here… I don't know if that was a good idea." Scott muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Bruce's voice cut through, firm and steady. "Doesn't matter now. He's here. What matters is bringing everyone back."

Clint's gaze hardened, grief still raw in his voice. "Damn right. Let's get to work."

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