He turned his head.
What met his eyes was a tall, slender woman with cascading black hair flowing down to her waist. Her every movement radiated grace. The sleek black gown she wore accentuated her flawless figure.
Her allure was breathtaking, made all the more potent by an indescribable aura of power and magnetism that surrounded her. Mysterious. Enchanting. It was the kind of presence that felt like it could pull your very soul into its orbit.
It was suffocating.
But Martin? He barely spared her a glance. Without so much as a flicker of surprise, he lowered his head again, redirecting his attention to the two Infinity Stones in his hands.
To Martin, the allure of the Stones far outweighed that of any woman, no matter how divine.
Women… don't distract me when I'm studying the Infinity Stones.
Neither spoke.
The woman in black made no move to break the silence, nor did Martin. They stood in mutual stillness, as though they'd known each other for ages. Strangely, the silence between them felt natural, free of tension or awkwardness.
After a while, Martin finally looked up, frowning slightly.
"You're still here?"
The woman paused, then let out a soft, melodious laugh. Her voice was as hypnotic as her presence, and its strange pull only intensified.
She spoke.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I have a pretty good guess."
Martin gave her a once-over; calm, observant, and appreciative of her beauty. Then he spoke evenly:
"I just didn't expect that someone as insignificant as me would attract the attention of a cosmic entity like you. Honestly, out of all the gods in the universe, you're the last one I'd ever want to deal with… Death."
This impossibly captivating woman was none other than Death herself, one of the Five Cosmic Abstracts. Both a divine being and the living embodiment of mortality, finality, and the inevitable end.
She was death. And death was her.
Death laughed again behind her hand, delighted.
"You're… interesting. Very different from the others I've met."
"And you're different from the gods I've dealt with, at least none of them have ever strolled uninvited into my territory just to spectate. That's the kind of thing that causes unnecessary misunderstandings."
Martin's hands gripped the Infinity Stones tightly, casual on the surface, but ready to act at a moment's notice.
Inwardly, his mind raced through strategic calculations.
If this is her true form, a Multiversal-tier entity… I wouldn't even bother fighting. I'd surrender outright. But if it's just an avatar? Then she's only at a single-universe scale. That, I can handle.
One Infinity Stone alone grants universe-level power. With two… ending this version of Death wouldn't be difficult.
Death moved closer, far too close, until her entire frame was nearly pressed against his. Her slender fingers brushed lightly against Martin's shoulder, her touch gentle, almost flirtatious. She leaned in, whispering:
"You're the most intriguing mortal I've ever encountered. Honestly? I find you… fascinating."
"More fascinating than Thanos?" Martin didn't flinch.
"Thanos?" Death mused softly, her breath warm against his ear. "At least, in this universe, I haven't really paid him much attention. He's… boring. His ideals are laughable, but occasionally amusing. I let him live."
Martin raised an eyebrow internally.
Ah, I see… In this universe, Thanos is more like the "Population Control Thanos," not one of those obsessive, love-struck psychos from other timelines. His worldview is more balanced. His ideals, oddly noble. He's… sane.
So this universe… likely leans toward the cinematic continuity. No, wait. There's more nuance. It must be a timeline derived from the MCU, but with multiversal cross-contamination and timeline fragmentation effects.
After all, the Marvel Multiverse is truly infinite, every timeline branches endlessly into more. Every universe continually splits into an infinity of parallel variants. Those variants split again, ad infinitum.
Unlike DC, Martin mused, where multiversal crises keep trimming the fat, boiling the infinite down to a paltry 52 official universes and a few scattered anomalies. Rough deal.
This universe he now occupied? Probably an offshoot of the mainline MCU, a variant spawned by deviation somewhere in its timeline.
Still, functionally, it was a single-universe continuity. A limited scale. No zombies. No Deadpool massacres. Not bad.
Martin turned and locked eyes with Death's hauntingly close face. After a moment of contemplation, he reached out to grab her, his voice calm, but resolute.
"My personal domain isn't so easily trespassed. And since you're here, you'll have to pay the price. Even if you're a true multiversal god, no exceptions."
Death gave a sly, amused smile and slid back effortlessly, her form vanishing like mist just beyond his grasp. She laughed again, voice lilting.
"Martin, you're not ready for me. If you want to pursue what's running through that mind of yours… you'll have to do far more for me."
Martin stared after her, baffled, his expression unreadable.
"I couldn't care less whether I'm 'worthy' of you," he said dryly. "That's not going to stop me from trying to sleep with you."
Death faltered, her smirk twitching into a laugh, but her form began to fade again, preparing to slip back into the ether.
Martin scoffed.
Without warning, he clenched both fists, the twin Infinity Stones igniting with a surge of raw cosmic power. The air trembled. The laws of the universe bent.
A forcible lockdown, space and time around them froze. The sheer might of two cosmic absolutes bound Death in place, locking her physical and metaphysical forms simultaneously.
Caught mid-departure, Death's eyes widened in disbelief, then darkened with fury.
"You dare—I am a god! A Supreme Creator! How dare you insult me like this—!"
Martin cut her off, utterly unfazed.
"You're being dramatic. I just don't care."
Power coursed through him as he rose to his feet, his stride slow and unhurried, like a predator savoring the moment. He stepped up to the immobilized Death, tilted her chin upward with one hand, and studied her expression.
He smiled. Satisfied.
Then, without a word, he gave her a gentle push. His fingers pressed against her black dress, guiding her, firmly... onto the bed.
He followed.
And pressed down.
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