“Ah, yes. You have moved not only your own Venus and Mercury, but now ours, as well! You are terraforming them into habitable places?” Earth-T’Challa deduced quickly.

“Yes, taking some mass from Mercury to bring Venus up to standard Terran gravity, and the one moon paradigm. It should be ready for primary habitation within a year,” I answered calmly.

He sat back, considering. “You will not come seeking citizens, but you will vet and accept volunteers, I trust?”

“Of course, brother,” T-T’Challa replied. “I will warn you that few desire to return home, at least if they can bring their families with them. The Pentad Alliance is rather addicting.”

“Horribly hopeful and valorous souls that they are,” I agreed piously. “Those Xandarans are so stuffily nice, and the Galadorans enthusiastically noble, and dourly helpful Corbinites, and nature-loving Whoberis...” I just tossed up my hands. “It’s probably part of being human, but they don’t have nearly the diversity of personality types that humans do. You could say that nearly three standard deviations of their races fall within a tenth of a deviation of the ‘standard personality’ of their people by human standards, something that isn’t all that unusual for a lot of alien species.

“In short, alien tropes are often fully justified by species. There are individuals who differ from the common mold, of course, but most alien races are remarkably similar in mindsets. Finding positive mindsets is the hardest thing about such a fact.”

“An interesting fact. Is this evolution, a result of outside genetic manipulation, or a result of their own genetic efforts?” E-T’Challa asked, amused at the news.

“It would be unsurprising if it was all three,” Storm spoke up again. “We are dealing with cultures far older than our own, some of whom were in space when mankind was still in caves. All such things could have taken place in the past.

“Xandaran history specifically mentions some genecoding to remove the most violent personality elements from their genome, which has made them staunch defenders of their people and quite heroic, but they lack the pure brutal impulse to survive and slaughter their enemies that Terrans do,” I agreed with Storm. “Yet it probably kept them alive all these years, as their solidarity was not tripped up by insane members of their own civilization attempting to seize power and destroying their own people for it, allowing them to hold out against the Skrulls for thousands of years.”

“An impressive achievement,” E-T’Challa conceded. “One I trust you are not intending to repeat.”

“You have a High Evolutionary you have not removed who is completely interested in pursuing such lines of thought. There is no need to double up such efforts,” I answered smoothly.

He rolled his eyes as he winced. “Yes, yes, Wyndham is another recurring problem. It seems you have eliminated him?”

“He embarked on a pogrom of worldwide removal of ‘evil elements’ of the human genome. It was judged he was also guilty of harboring such evil elements, and his sentencing was applied to him.” I could still remember his face as Sama cut him down with a Sword, of all things. Dying to a Null born into a tribe of basically barbarians; it was an ironic way for the super-evolved bastard to go.

“Appropriate,” E-T’Challa conceded. “I get the impression he was not silly enough to extend his efforts to Wakanda?”

T-T’Challa snorted. “He was not so foolish as to tempt Fate with us, brother, but the Golden Hag gets very protective of those who cannot defend themselves. Wyndham was like most of his ilk, preying upon the weak and those who no one else would defend. He was easy to manipulate, a bully, a eugenic supremacist, and a fool, for all his knowledge and self-evolution.” He made a curt dismissive gesture to sum up what he thought of the man, and we all just nodded. “He could have brought the world so very much more, but his path was growing darker and darker, not brighter. This, I think, is why the Golden Hag ended him. He was not seeking a better way and a higher goal, only a more pragmatic and efficient one that had no soul.”

“This woman sounds extremely formidable, and not afraid to act on her moral code. Such people can be very dangerous,” E-T-Challa observed.

Storm and I had to smile slightly, while her husband just sighed. “Extremely dangerous,” Storm informed her husband’s counterpart. She gestured, and E-T’Challa leaned forward as a famous video, seen countless times across multiple galaxies, rose up before him.

Galactus, confronting Celestials. An exchange of energies, a devastated landscape that did not affect those watching. A Sword rising, and chiming two Notes no one who heard them would ever forget.

A Celestial falling, cut in two.

The two Black Panthers looked at one another. “It is good she has not taken a direct hand in Wakanda,” ours admitted resignedly.

“And this Great Bear?” E-T’Challa asked thoughtfully.

“Sama yields in combat to the Great Bear. I think the only beings who have seen his full power are now dead. I can confirm that both of them are responsible for multiple destroyed dimensions, the deaths of Lords of Limbo, gods, and elder gods. They are far and away the two most dangerous defenders of our world,” I informed him.

His eyebrows rose. “What of Doom? The Molecule Man?”

“Our Doom is long dead. Your Doom...” I glanced a certain way, and shook my head. “He already has designs on our world and its technology and magic. He dealt with Hell for power. He... probably does not have long to live.”

Ignoring his expression, I went on, “Your Molecule Man does not actually have that power. The Molecule Man for this timeline is actually a man and his wife: Benjamin Parker, and his wife May.”

E-T’Challa blinked in astonishment. “Those... the aunt and uncle of Peter Parker? Spider-man?” he asked, incredulous.

“The very same!” Storm confirmed with a smile. “They are very good people.”

“And they won’t mess with Sama or Briggs,” I stage-whispered.

“They must be how you moved the planets into a balanced orbit so quickly,” Earth’s Black Panther mused aloud. “No Owen Reece. This is a very interesting development. Do they take requests?” he asked with a wide smile.

“Yes,” our Panther confirmed calmly, “but they demand equal payment, unless it is of benefit to humanity as a whole, and they prefer to be fixers, not makers, repairing and cleaning up after catastrophes, as opposed to dropping gifts on the world and removing any incentive to improve ourselves.”

“A Molecule Man and Woman with wisdom. Truly this is a marvelously terrifying and wondrous universe we have gotten into. We need not even worry about time-travelers messing things up!” he propounded.

“Ugh!” all three of us said at the same moment, and his smile faltered.

“Remember what I said about time-travelers are actually dimension-hoppers?” I reminded him, and he nodded quickly. “We get a LOT of them. They think they are going back in time, and they end up here, shunted over here by who knows what, and we have to deal with them.”

“Three in the last six months,” sighed our T’Challa. “And that was just in Wakanda, although we attract more than the rest of Africa.”

“Five others across Africa,” I informed him. “Across the planet, eighty-four.”

“In but six months?” E-T’Challa was shocked.

“There is some cross-Temporal Empire stuff going on.” I waved my hand in irritation. “Nothing we can’t handle, but it keeps the Alternity Watch pretty busy. Some of it is a reaction to the Reality Guards that we are establishing under the Watch, as it’s a reaction to the temporal empires’ authority and ability to meddle wherever and whenever they want to. They kinda get irritated when a Null Widow or Operator goes in and really messes things up for them.”

“Or the Great Bear shows up and reduces their primary temporal nexus to a molecule in thickness,” Storm murmured under her breath, and the rest of us just grunted.

“So much for moving the Tunguska Event to Moscow,” I agreed, remembering the fallout of that particular attempt to strike at Russia. “What did you do with that Nilgoxin theft attempt?” I inquired of her.

“Ah, Master Briggs supplied us with a small tachyon-singularity device which we put a fake vibranium signature onto. They snatched it away instead of our vibranium, and promptly a major section of their Empire vanished from the TVA’s chronal recorders,” our T’Challa answered smoothly.

“Wait, you dropped them into the Umbatu Interregaro, which bled it into the Khronstern Continuum?” I had to ask, remembering that particular set of temporal events going off.

He grinned very broadly. “We deemed it the proper use of such a fine gift.” He held up his hand, and Storm gave him skin.

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. All three taken care of at once!” I pointed at our T’Challa, addressing Earth’s. “Watch your brother. He’s very clever.”

“That is a good thing!” Earth’s Black Panther replied with his own smile. “I have a feeling I should ask if you would share such defenses. We have our own protection against time-travelers, but I believe they are going to be somewhat out-of-date given our current situation...”

Our T’Challa just looked at me, and I threw up my hands. “Just be aware you’re probably going to have start intercepting such things for the whole planet, Your Majesty.”

“It would not be our first time being the only nation on Earth with plans to counteract greater powers,” he noted wryly.

“And thus, the High Guard,” I nodded along, and matters began to devolve to more practical things...

-------

Apocalypse wasn’t very happy.

The High Guard had come down on his little sapient island of Krakoa, and right on top of his most secret and ‘holy’ site, too. While a few fanatical mutant followers had followed him, the population of those helping him was under ten thousand, mostly drawn from nations trying to exploit mutants.

Any wise mutants were more likely to flee to lands friendly with the Great Bear or to the Tribal Alliance, who would happily take them in, teach them to manifest a mind blade, and help them acclimate with society.

Apocalypse had a better idea of his place in the universe, and certainly wasn’t going to actually physically challenge the High Guard, even if his Horsemen were neighing at us and eager to give it a go.

The fact that Cypher was chatting amiably with the island was also a factor.

“The island says it can feel its other half faintly through the Portal there, but it doesn’t have the power to open the thing,” Doug pointed out for us and the glowering Apocalypse.

“That’s a dimensional Portal?” Morgan, the Scarlet Sorceress Supreme, asked, gliding up to it. “Gods and Totems, who designed this thing? It’s using a mishmash of completely inappropriate energies for dimensional travel, let alone a standing conduit!”

Apocalypse was about to say something, and shut up as I gestured absently, and the entire thing began to glow with deep-seated, thrumming power.

“Alrighty, let’s fire up the Divination enhancement on that spirito-temporal link...” Morgan murmured before he could say anything, Seal and Circles rising around her and imposing themselves on to the Portal. The energies on it deepened, and began to reach on off into nowhere.