SEVERENCE

In a reality where fate governs all, one being was never meant to wake.

Severence was a name long lost to time, a figure buried so deep in history that even the gods dared not speak of him. Yet, despite their efforts, he has awakened. Not by fate. Not by design. But by something else.

He remembers everything.

The battles he fought. The gods he defied. The moment he took up The Unmaking, a weapon that does not kill but erases. The war that should have ended with his existence vanishing forever.

And yet, here he stands once more. Whole. Alive. Awake.

But he does not know why.

Cast adrift in a multiverse of endless worlds—where heroes wage war, where gods weave their schemes, where titans clash and destinies are written—Severence searches for an answer. Every world recoils at his presence. Every being, mortal or divine, whispers his name in terror. Every force in existence seems desperate to deny him the truth.

Something woke him. Something brought him back.

But why?

From the burning battlefields of the Holy Grail War to the war-torn realms of gods and monsters, from futuristic dystopias to cosmic battlegrounds—Severence walks the path beyond fate, seeking the answer hidden even from him.

And with each world, the whispers grow louder.

"He has awakened."
"The blade that unmakes walks once more."
"Even the gods cannot escape its cut."

Severence simply tightens his grip on The Unmaking.

Let the gods tremble. Let the universes break.

He will carve his own path—until he finds the truth.
A/N:**The art used for the cover is AI generated.**
A/N:**All other characters except the OG belong to their respective creators.**
                **This is a fanfic**

He Who Cuts Fate

Time moved forward, a relentless current dragging everything toward an inevitable shore. Severence stood at the edge of it, watching.

He had observed Tony Stark for days now. The billionaire's patterns were predictable—a man trying to escape his own mind. Genius only gave a person more space to wander, and Stark wandered constantly. Through ideas. Through inventions. Through distractions.

Like an invisible thread, reality was pulling toward an event—a fixed point, a moment of suffering that could not be avoided.

Or rather, a moment that was not meant to be avoided.

Severence narrowed his eyes as Stark boarded a private jet, heading to Afghanistan.

A cave. A betrayal. A heart forever changed by fire and shrapnel.

Severence stood unseen on the rooftop of a towering skyscraper, his gaze fixed on the private jet preparing for takeoff. The night sky stretched above him, vast and indifferent. The world continued as it always had, unaware that a single moment—one of countless many—would soon define its future.

This was the moment Tony Stark's fate would twist into something new.

He had seen these moments before—pivotal turns, where lives were shattered and rebuilt into something new.

The weight of his purpose pressed against him. To sever, or to allow?

This was no ordinary suffering. It was a crucible.

If he intervened, Stark's future would crumble into uncertainty. The man would never become the legend this world needed. But if he let it unfold…

Severence exhaled, his gaze never leaving the jet as it lifted off the runway.

For now… the thread would remain uncut.

The hum of the private jet filled the cabin, a constant, soothing rhythm. Tony Stark sat in his leather seat, whiskey glass in hand, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest.

There was a time when these flights excited him—the rush of a new deal, the thrill of unveiling his latest creation. But lately, something had felt… off.

The tension in his chest. The nagging unease in the back of his mind. Like something was watching.

J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice crackled through his earpiece.

"Sir, we are approaching the test site."

Tony sighed, setting down his glass. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

Rhodey sat across from him, flipping through some reports. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked.

Tony scoffed. "Ghosts aren't real, Rhodey."

His friend raised an eyebrow. "You say that, but I know that look. Something's bugging you."

Tony hesitated, swirling the leftover whiskey in his glass.

Should he say it? The feeling had been creeping up on him since yesterday, growing stronger. A strange awareness, like someone just beyond his sightline.

It was ridiculous, obviously. Paranoia. Too much caffeine. Maybe he needed an actual vacation.

The jet shuddered as turbulence rattled through the cabin. Rhodey barely reacted, flipping another page, but Tony felt his pulse spike for a fraction of a second.

Tony exhaled. "I think I just need a break. Maybe a weekend off the grid."

Rhodey smirked. "You? Take a break? Now I know something's wrong."

Tony rolled his eyes, but the conversation distracted him just enough to shake the unease.

The plane descended, cutting through the dark horizon.

Outside, the world prepared to break him.

And far above, Severence remained.

For the moment when he would decide.

###**Chapter 6: The First Thread**

###Chapter 6: The First Thread