Chapter 609: Crazy Dave Zombie Battle Cthulhu (Truth—Part 2)

The pitch-black ruins of the building looked as if they had been ravaged by some kind of fire or earthquake, with only a prominent sign hinting at what had once stood opposite Loki.

「. 」

Loki silently gazed at the rubble before him, slowly pulling from his clothing a comic titled《Thanos V1》, and smiled:

「This has happened before—do you remember Jim Steranko's Cosmic Heart event? 」

He forced a calm, nonchalant expression, turning his back on the distant ruins, his gaze toward Stan Lee filled with quiet anticipation.

「Thanos, with the help of the superheroes, obtained the complete Cosmic Heart—but he sought to reshape the universe, and neither the superheroes nor the cosmic gods could stop him from destroying it. 」

Loki spoke rapidly, summarizing the past events:

「You too thought you couldn't stop him back then, but in the end he gave up and restored everything in the universe—after all, these cosmic crises happen every day. 」

「It's really not a big deal, isn't it? 」

Stan Lee held the plate of donuts, staring at Loki without speaking; he took a bite, then picked up the teapot on the table and brewed a cup of black tea for Loki.

「This is no different from before—the studio can be rebuilt even if it's destroyed; I have an even better idea. 」

Loki pulled out a blank sheet of paper and redrew it with ink; soon, a new studio appeared on the page, which he stuck to the window to display his creation.

「Simple. 」 Loki turned to look at Stan Lee, then pointed at the paper: 「Look, just like this. 」

He looked again at the paper—but his words caught in his throat.

On the page, the studio he had just drawn had become a realistic sketch of the scenery outside the window—only ruins and the sign remained.

「There are differences this time—previously, it was always internal factors, but no matter what, we always reached a consensus in the end. 」

Stan Lee gazed at the steaming teacup and said: 「But this time, we must consider external factors—financial crisis, world war, alien invasion. 」

「What do these have to do with you?! 」 Loki shouted, agitated: 「You're—you're—」

He spread his arms, desperately trying to grasp something—but upon seeing the other man's slight shake of the head, he staggered back two steps, his form flickering with instability.

「You were just talking to me about fallen gods and the future. 」 Loki said.

「So I'm surprised you made it here. 」 Stan Lee gripped the teacup's handle and handed it to Loki:

「This is a higher dimension—for us, time is merely a symbol unless we deliberately assign meaning, just like when you create stories: the beginning, middle, and end all exist in your mind without sequence. 」

「Drink some tea—it will help you and your friends calm down. 」

Loki took a sip; the warm black tea, infused with lemon scent, flowed into his belly, grounding him—he felt his own existence, and his form gradually stabilized.

At that moment, the resume Stan Lee had been holding—the paper bearing abstract symbols of a mask, dice, mahjong tiles, and a monocle—fluttered as if caught by the wind, slipping out through the crack beside the wooden door.

「Damn it. 」 Loki's eyes widened; he immediately lunged for the door handle.

「Child, be careful, 」 Stan Lee warned: 「Crazy Dave is outside spreading the T-virus, trying to infect Cthulhu. 」

As Loki pressed the handle, he asked: 「What? 」

Boom—!

The cracked door burst violently open; a tremendous force slammed in, accompanied by piercing shrieks and a wind brimming with all information, scattering every object inside the room.

「You are One, and also Ten Thousand. 」

「You are the Primordial, not the Eternal Dao. 」

「All forms are real; if you see forms as formless, you see Lord Haotian. 」

Loki, eyes rolled back, nearly fainting, heard the choir's sacred chant in his daze—and gradually, everything began to change.

After a long yet fleeting adaptation.

Loki looked down at himself: he wore a simple linen white robe, and behind him sprouted tiny white wings; above his head, a sphere of countless radiance had become the sun, bathing him in light.

He involuntarily merged into it, as if granted infinite wisdom—he longed to freeze this moment into eternity.

What could be done?

Loki saw many beautiful angels with exquisite faces, holding Buddhist sutras, singing in unison; they waved their arms, as if inviting him to join them, to comprehend the Great Dao of the universe.

「Believe me—you don't want to go there. 」

A hand tugged him from behind—swish! —he stumbled backward, his half-stepped foot crashing onto the floor.

「What the hell?! 」 Loki screamed in terror: 「What is that thing?! 」

Gales swept through, clouds shattered; countless radiant spheres were washed in white rain; colossal, sky-obscuring tentacles descended from the heavens; countless brass eyes reflected illusory feathered light; profound Dao-sounds echoed through the void, richer than surround sound.

The tentacles curled around countless swords shimmering with divine radiance, surging toward the radiant spheres; as they did, some bubbles were pierced, revealing distinct layers of dimensions within.

Each eye on the tentacles glanced toward different dimensions—and His power illuminated them all; this was the Beginning.

Countless universes, each whole yet tending toward infinity, came into being.

The symphony of Genesis sounded; wisdom and knowledge scattered among them took form as life, unfolding stories of wildly different styles—from Eastern xianxia to Western fantasy, from cultivators to wizards, from the Age of Gods to the Age of Technology.

Creation and destruction cycled endlessly—forever!

「My Lord Bishop! 」

「Lord Su Tianfu! 」

「Dear Master! 」

A green, withered wooden mask bit onto Loki's pant leg—but a thick, holy-light-wreathed tentacle from outside coiled around the mask, as if dragging it into the downpour:

「We were wrong! Shake us off!!! 」×4

「Crazy Dave Zombie Battle Cthulhu, 」 Stan Lee said, swallowing his last bite of donut:

「I could never have imagined such a plot—copyrights and crossovers are too abstract; audiences would think the director or writer hadn't taken their meds. 」

「Good thing you didn't run too far—you're still within my private domain. 」

He turned and walked into the inner room, retrieved a double-barreled shotgun, stepped to the door, chambered a round, and aimed it at the mask on Loki's pant leg—or rather, at the holy-light tentacle that had fully enveloped it.

「Let go of these harmless young people, you brain-addled lunatic! 」

Bang—!

Bang—!

After firing two shots, with light spraying everywhere, Stan Lee dragged Loki back into the house, his leg still half outside; more tentacles surged forward, and at that moment, he pulled from his pocket a grenade marked with a cross-shaped flash and a ring.

"Surprise, motherfucker!!!"

With strength utterly inconsistent with his age, he hurled it far outward; the glowing grenade was swallowed by the overwhelming tentacles, and a searing white light erupted instantly, unleashing a scorching wind and a mushroom cloud that tore through everything.

"Now you've got it—go back to your Arkham Asylum! Hahahahahaha—!"

Boom—the door slammed shut. Stan Lee clenched his fist in triumph, clearly satisfied with what he had just done.

"That was the Heart of the Universe?!" Loki shouted in disbelief.

"Just a custom grenade," Stan Lee said, raising an eyebrow. "I've got to find ways to defend my private territory, or Dave the lunatic will eat my brain."

Still shaken, Loki stared at his job application, soaked by rain and torn; the mask had reverted to its original form, utterly silent.

"Was he really that God?!" Loki asked in disbelief. "Is that why you switched companies?!"

"Hmm." Stan Lee glanced at Loki's job application but gave no direct answer. "Not exactly."

He reached out and pulled Loki up from the floor; the two returned to the windowsill.

Looking outward from the room, there were no tentacles, no bubbles—only the ruins they had seen before.

Clearly, this was a filtered view.

The owner of this room didn't want to see a depiction of hell outside his window while drinking afternoon tea or resting, lest it ruin his already mediocre mood.

Loki quickly drank two sips of tea to calm himself, also to stabilize his own existence.

Stan Lee refilled his cup, gazing out the window with a nostalgic look. "That was the ending. For you, it hasn't happened yet—but it already exists as fact."

He turned and patted a storage box; similar boxes filled half the room.

"I preserved your appearances."

Of course, only the appearances.

This meant that in this new studio, stories already born or yet to be born would have little to do with you—essentially, they're just skin-deep rehashes or nostalgia-bait.

"How could He have such power?" Loki asked, baffled.

"For any nation, the first president holds a unique significance," Stan Lee said. "As the beginning and origin, He gained the right to choose the end."

He sighed, placed both hands on the sliding window, and made a motion as if lifting it upward with force.

"Wait." Loki's hand trembled; he hastily stopped him.

"Don't worry—this is a safe passage," Stan Lee winked his right eye at Loki and smiled. "This room's already chaotic enough."

With a strong pull, as Loki watched in terrified, trauma-ridden suspense, the scene outside the window shifted.

Like countless film reels stacked together, illuminated by a single light source, countless scenes flooded Loki's vision—he seemed to have traversed daybreak, dawn, night, stars, and fantasy.

But a hazy, shadowy form—something deeper than darkness—permanently shrouded every scene.

Sometimes vast, sometimes covering everything; sometimes merely a tiny, insignificant speck.

"The Abyss. A part of the Void. That's what they call it—capable of reversing and replacing the entire Void."

Stan Lee said:

"As long as there is possibility, there is potential to become reality; as long as it can become reality, it can, in some sense, be considered real."

Here, Stan Lee helplessly shrugged, then pulled out a sniper rifle from nowhere and mounted it on the windowsill, aiming at the moment when the Omniverse had fully become the First Heaven's conceptual form.

Bang.

The entire Omniverse, in its First Heaven conceptual form, developed a hollow at its head—and rapidly dissolved away.

"As you saw, I can kill the first president. But—"

Before Loki's eyes, where the destroyed Omniverse had been, a hazy shadow emerged; a broken, frayed, infinitely tangled tree of gray-white time stood within it, growing from the newly reappeared First Heaven conceptual form.

He seemed to sense something; his body studded with stars, his long oval olive-shaped pupil emitted black light, fixedly staring toward the direction of this room.

Loki felt an unease seeping from his marrow—as if seeing his own end, as if seeing himself, as if seeing

He slowly turned his head toward Stan Lee beside him.

"Above All Things?"

"As long as he remains within the Abyss corresponding to this Void dimension, he is."

Stan Lee shrugged. "Take an inappropriate example: Schrödinger's cat. So as long as he's inside, he's equal to me in status—let alone—"

"They have allies."

Inside the First Heaven, a deep green, deformed, bloated monster roared—symbolizing the end of all things, the stagnation of all cycles, bearing eternal, unextinguishable hatred, annihilating everything from endless time and space—

—Below All Things (TOBA)

The other side of Above All Things.

"Under normal circumstances, this possibility doesn't interfere with the universe that much."

Stan Lee murmured. "But after too many cycles of destruction and rebirth, the likelihood of this ending, and the Abyss's influence on this universe, has risen linearly."

He walked to a drawing table, picked up a new sketch, and showed it to Loki.

"From now on, I plan to tell stories of love and peace."

All villains and superheroes loving each other, understanding each other after conflict and battle, becoming family—in a comedy, with all kinds of LGBT+ elements.

"What do you think?"

"Not great. Box office will crash."

Loki turned around, seriously asking: "Is there any way to stop Him?"

"No way," Stan Lee said apologetically. "Only the president can revoke his own decision."

Loki opened his mouth to speak, then suddenly frowned.

"What did you say?"

"No way."

"The part after that."

Only he himself can revoke it.

The room fell suddenly silent. Loki stared at Stan Lee for a moment, then tilted his head slightly, uncertain.

He himself, the First Heaven.

Loki opened his mouth, but as his body flickered, he immediately raised his cup to take another sip—only to find it empty.

"It's gone." Stan Lee tilted the teapot, smiling at Loki: "Only he can choose."

"But he isn't fallen." Before Loki could finish speaking—CRASH—he turned into a comic book and fell to the ground.

Stan Lee picked up the comic book, a smile on his lips, gazing out the window—at the projection source Loki had previously ignored.

Inside a thing that pierced the void, transcending the limits of time and space, blazing with brilliance like the sun.

A familiar figure stood within it, burning and elevating all his own concepts.

I almost mistook him for someone else.