(General P.O.V)

A few weeks had passed.

The sun shone like it usually did. But this morning, like the last few mornings since the world's end, was subdued and quiet.

Uatu still sat on his rocky perch on the edge of a moon canyon, having not said another word since his last statement a fortnight ago.

All he did was watch.

The fires around the world had died down now. All that was left was smoldering bits of the once-thriving cities of the world.

Most things were dead. Those that clung to life in this wasteland did so stubbornly.

For the first time in thousands of years, the world was silent.

No birds chirped on tree branches, no animals called out in deep jungles, no cars roared down stretches of tarmac, nor impossibly long traffic jams blocking the highways.

For all intents and purposes, this was a dead world.

And then with deadly intent, huge collosal robots left a certain secret Kingdom in Africa.

They rose up with their forms humming with the Vibranium infused into them.

As one, they begun to spread across the world. Their purpose? To destroy what little life remained.

This was a purge and Ultron would not do it half baked.

*******

Fury's eye patch concealed his weary gaze as he stared at the holographic projection of General Ross, the highest-ranking government official still active.

Ross was surrounded by a few officials and soldiers, some of them out of frame to give the general some privacy as he talked to the only man they all knew had to have a plan.

The general interlocked his fingers together, lines of worry and exhaustion evident on his aged face.

"Nick, we need answers," General Ross implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Are the Chinese or the Russians responsible for this catastrophe?"

Fury's response was solemn but resolute, "No, General, it's not a foreign power. I've been monitoring global readings on the fallout of the nuclear disaster. It's more complex than a simple act of war."

Fury's fingers flew over the keyboard as he pulled up some of the reports sent over from S.H.I.E.L.D. specialists stationed on the Helicarrier. The information contained therein would send shockwaves through the room on the other side of the massive display.

"The launch of the first volley of missiles," Fury began, his voice heavy, "originated from Stark Industries, just moments before New York was obliterated."

General Ross's brows furrowed in anger as he stood up suddenly, hands slamming onto the ebony desk he was sitting behind.

"Stark Industries? Tony Stark was a genius, but this... it's unthinkable."

Fury nodded, his expression grim.

"I agree. I theorize there's more to this than meets the eye. I know Stark, he's careless, irresponsible but he means- meant well. He wouldn't leave the earth as a smoking piece of crap if he could help it. This isn't his legacy. His own pride wouldn't allow him to do so."

"If you think so."

Ross responded, not really buying it.

"Keep searching Nick. I expect a report every ten hours from you."

The General ordered, sitting back down, before continuing,

"I also expect that the SHIELD personnel on the Helicarrier will cooperate with what little forces we have left to get the world back on it's feet. You have resources that could prove crucial."

Fury's lips thinned.

"Naturally I will agree to those requests."

Ross narrowed his eyes at the spy's wording of his statement.

"But remember, I may be on your frequency, General, but I don't take orders from anyone."

Fury told him firmly.

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Tension hung heavy in the air as the two strong-willed men faced off, their commitment to their respective missions unwavering.

Eventually, Ross relented.

"Fine, Fury, you have your autonomy. Just get us the answers we need."

Before they could proceed further, another call pierced the silence of the base. Fury looked at the caller I.D.

"I have to take this."

He told the general before promptly ending their call.

He pressed on receive and his second in command's face appeared on the screen, her expression tense with worry.

There was the sounds of battle and explosions happening around her, though he couldn't see what they were shooting at.

A red and blue blur (spiderman) swung through the chamber behind Hill, jumping at something outside of the frame. (peter had survived the destruction of the world due to conveniently being on the Helli-carrier when things had gone to shit.)

The boy though, was inconsolable due to losing his loved ones.

"Nick, we're under attack on the Helicarrier. We need immediate backup."

Maria Hill said, her voice fraught with urgency.

Attacked?

By who?

Fury leaned closer to the communication console, his good eye narrowing.

"Hill, what's attacking you? Give me details."

Before Hill could respond, the camera was suddenly yanked away from her, falling and tilting on it's side.

Hill's feet could be seen as she readily stood, firing off shot after shot at something.

"Hill! Maria! Who's attacking you?!"

Fury roared to no avail. She couldn't hear him.

Then there was a sudden scream as something big landed on Hill, crushing her underfoot. Fury's mouth gaped open.

The transmission abruptly cut off, leaving him in disbelief, with a gnawing sense of dread.

He tightened his fingers, his nails almost digging into his rough palms and piercing the skin.

They were gone.

She was gone.

His heart grew hard. There was work to do. Mourning could come later.

From the fleeting glimpse he'd caught on the Helicarrier's video feed, whatever was attacking them had seemed very similar to something he recognized.

Fury's fingers danced across the console as he pulled up some research papers locked behind the highest level of security known to man.

He covered his mouth with his hand, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. It was like he'd suspected. And it was bad.

Whatever he had seen...those were Sentinels. Created by the Scientist, Bolivar Trask with the sole aim of Killing off the mutant population

The world was teetering on the edge of total collapse and this new situation might prove to be the final blow to humanity as a species.

Fury knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.

He was all alone now. The Sentinels would be going for whatever pockets of humanity remained. He couldn't expect, nor was he going to wait for help from anyone.

With the Avengers unaccounted for and Captain Marvel unresponsive to his pleas, no matter how many times he paged, he had one last option.

He strode purposefully to the deepest part of the chamber, the lights overhead turning on. A panel at the very end of the chamber slid open at his approach, revealing a pedestal.

In his hand, he held a ring with the emblem of the Fantastic Four. Placing it on the pedestal, the base's computer system responded with a soft, robotic voice.

"Recording detected."

"Play it," Fury commanded.

There was a flicker on the Pedestal, followed by the holographic image of Reed Richards materializing above it.

"Nick, the device you're about to activate is immensely powerful. It can breach space and time to call for help in the worst of circumstances."

Without wasting time, Mr. Fantastic begun to speak, his words carrying a weight that matched the gravity of their situation.

"I've done my calculations and by the time of this recording, we should be 4 years and 5 months from the possible end of the world."

Reeds eyes bored into Fury's single one as he gave one last warning.

"This device is my last ditch effort to ensure that it all works out. However, it carries the risk of someone other than the one intended answering the plea. You need to be responsible and only use it in the direst of times."

"Does the end of the world count?"

Fury muttered to himself as the recording reached its end.

"Good luck Nicholas. You're going to need it."

Reed stated then the recording ended.

The Pedestal hissed as it separated into sections, revealing something hidden inside it.

A small device that fit on Fury's palm innocently.

He studied the small circular gadget, turning it over in his hand. It seemed deceptively simple, a red button with a single word, "HELP" written on it.

Fury knew that he was about to make a choice that could reshape the fate of the world.

Whether for better or worse, though, anything was acceptable than the current circumstances.

With a firm resolve, he pressed the button.

(An Unknown Time and Place in the Multiverse)

Franklin Richards stood amidst the smoldering wreckage of Sentinels, their metallic corpses now nothing more than twisted heaps of scrap metal.

All around him, time seemed to rewind as the destroyed buildings caught up in the middle of his fight, begun to recover.

All at his urging. All within his control.

The son of Reed Richards and Susan storm had grown up to become a force of nature.

His mutant powers had grown immensely over the years, and it was days like these that he truly grasped the extent of his abilities.

He took a few confident strides toward the last remaining Sentinel, the one that was now going haywire upon scanning him.

"Beyond Omega Level mutant detected. Possibility of Survival at 0.00007%. Countermeasure, self-destruct--"

The machine's mechanical voice echoed through the debris, Franklin couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Before the Sentinel could complete its self-destruct sequence, Franklin snapped his fingers, and the metallic monstrosity was instantly transmuted into a chunk of silicate.

He smirked and muttered to himself,

"Yeah, we're having none of that."

A familiar voice interrupted his moment of triumph, but it wasn't coming from any source in the physical world. It resonated within his mind, unmistakably his sister Valeria.

"Are you done showing off, you big oaf?" Valeria's voice carried a mix of irritation and amusement.

Franklin couldn't help but grin. "Is that jealousy I detect, little sister?"

"You wish," Valeria snorted in reply.

Franklin chuckled inwardly as he continued to survey the aftermath of the battle. "It's understandable. I just single-handedly saved New York from these robot things, after all. Speaking of, have you figured out where they came from?"

Before Valeria could respond, a sudden disturbance in the air caught Franklin's attention.

A swirling portal materialized behind him, its energy humming with an ominous aura.

Without warning, he felt an invisible force pulling him toward the portal, and before he could react, he was engulfed by its otherworldly embrace.

As the portal closed behind him, Franklin's mind raced with questions. What had just happened? Where had he been taken? And most importantly, was Valeria safe on the other side?