The Thanos Agenda (Marvel Self-insert)

THE NEED
CHAPTER TWO
I should have killed him when I had the chance— Anonymous.
The Cosmic Ghost Rider pushed down on the trigger. The spirit of vengeance held no scruples at killing a child, this child to be specific. He would do this for a better future, one without Thanos the tyrant in it, without the genocidal alien’s murdering touch soiling it.
Frank Castle had ended the life of many, more than he cared or knew to count, before and after he became the Ghost rider in his reality, a spirit of vengeance roaming the desolate wasteland that was once earth with not a single soul in sight. There was a time he answered to the back and call of Thanos, a time of great terror and death where he was the Mad Titan’s obedient blade and slave, driven insane by time and broken by the universal murderer’s hand.
BHAAM! His weapon spat a hellfire infused round large enough to shred an elephant’s skull to threads. Fear was not on the child’s face, he bounded off the bed with a surprising burst of uncharacteristic speed before the slug turned it to smoking dust.
The rider aimed again only to meet the boy’s palm slap his weapon up with more power than any child had the right to bear. He took a tackle to the chest that shoved him off his feet and into the hard ground which cratered in from the powerful slam.
‘That was unexpected.’ He thought. This young Thanos was much stronger than assumed, very much so. Anyone else would’ve perhaps folded at the attack, but he wasn’t just anyone, he was Frank Castle, the Cosmic Ghost Rider.
“What kind of a bastard tries assassinating a child?” Thanos spat, a questioning glare over his face as he punched the Rider’s flaming skull, singeing the flesh over his fist as he continued to blast punch after punch into the Rider’s skull, aiming to shatter the still burning thing.
“This one.” The Rider spat back, ramming a gloved fist into the child’s side, careening Thanos through his sizable shelve of awards and accolades. The child extracted himself from the wreckage, paying little mind the prestigious certificates and renowned trophies strewn at his feet. He could feel the seared flesh over his fists healing and his cracked ribs already mending to much pain.
The Rider, rising to his feet and empowered by cosmic power, lashed his chain at the boy, who jumped over it, only for the lengthy weapon to twist and wrap around his ankle, lashing him into the floor hard enough to crater it.
The Rider proceeded to whip the chain around, sending the young Thanos crashing and rebounding about the room, decimating whatever part he slammed against until finally the red chains of Cytorrak clinked and clanked around the disoriented Thanos, fully restraining him as he grunted in a futile effort to break them.
The Rider pulled the chain, dragging the boy into his open hand. Holding the tyrant’s young doppelganger by the neck inches away from his burning skull. The thought to easily snap the Titan’s neck flitted across his mind, but that, he decided, would be too great a mercy for Thanos.
He observed the boy, compared to other Thanos’, their face matched, their skin matched, except this one had even deeper crimson colored eyes. An omen of great evil.
‘He’s Thanos alright.’ Most would balk, cry, beg for mercy when faced with the Spirit of Vengeance. Some wouldn’t even put up a fight, choosing instead to accept their demise with clear resignation. He was the Spirit of Vengeance, the very atmosphere around him was oppressively thick and sweltering. Yet the child he tried to kill breathed easily.
“I am not afraid to die.” Thanos said, he knew Death on a personal basis, as if reading the Rider’s mind. “Just tell me why I must.”
“For the sins of your future.” He gripped Thanos by the neck and peered into his eyes. “Suffer the Penance Stare.” He spoke, dredging up the sins of Thanos and all the pain, sorrow and suffering he had caused in this world, the agonies of all who had ever suffered at his hands, multiplied and fed right back to the young Titan.
The experience was said to be more torturous than words could convey. Some would forever be changed by it, their minds fracturing from all they saw and felt. Some would tear their own eyes out in hopes of never seeing another sight. Most others simply did not survive it, their souls and minds liquefied from the unimaginable power behind the punishment.
Nothing happened, the Rider frowned. “Penance Stare” He repeated just to be certain, this Titan was young enough to have the immense trauma, guilt and weight of his sins crush his mind to pulp, unlike the older Thanos who enjoyed, basked even, in the penance stare, reliving his sins as peak entertainment value.
This young one, this specific one however, he was “Innocent.” He had sins, but they were unworthy of death or destruction, their weight was nothing to the strength of his strangely powerful soul. It did not make sense.
“Performance issues?” The Rider dropped the young Titan to the floor. He needed to think, willingly taking innocent life was something he vowed to never do, well actively do, he had values despite his blatant insanity. He was here to kill an evil child before it became an even greater evil in the future, except this Thanos was not evil, yet. Yet. He emphasized.
“Of course I’m not.” Again, the Rider suspected the child could read his mind. “I cannot read minds, but I can deduce and infer.”
“Makes sense you’d be a son of bitch even at this age.”
“You will not insult my mother, you oversized flint.”
“Defending your mother’s honor eh? Hah, I’ve seen it all.”
“I assume you came to kill me before I turn evil in the future?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Oh, and why’s that?”
“I will never become that person. Whatever he was in your timeline and reality, I won’t ever be.”
“You think you’re different?” The Rider’s mission had seen him cross a multitude of realities, bringing him to face uncountable varieties of Thanos’, young and younger, all had been judged guilty, all had fallen to his hands.
“I am.”
“Heh, what a fucking snowflake.” The Rider laughed at the Titan’s face. No Thanos was good, not a single Thanos in all the realities the Rider had visited could be remotely defined as having a heart. After laughing in the face of the child, the Rider decided on his next course of action. “You’re coming with me.”
“No, I am not.”
“Does it sound like I’m asking?”
Frank Castle chained the boy to the back of his motorcycle. He mounted the hell-steed and left a trail of flames in the air as the bike’s wheel spun through space itself, breaking past the stratosphere of the Eternal home-world and into the vast vacuum of space.
‘Kid stays, he turns into a monster’ The Rider could not leave the boy as found, that would guarantee he’d end up becoming just another Thanos. ‘Can’t kill him either.’ The young Thanos still possessed a relatively good soul, innocent for all intents. ‘For now.’
The Rider needed a trusted opinion, a reason to either kill this Thanos like all the others before him or let him live, and at this point in time, there was only one being he respected enough to receive it from.
“My people will come for me. My father will find me.”
“Hahahah! You think he’s not happy to see you gone? No one cares about you because you’re a walking dynamite stick of death and destruction waiting to go off.”
“You lie Rider.”
“Do you know why no one showed up to help you after all that noise we made? They hope you die kid, they hope someone finally puts a bullet between your eyes, they’re just too pussy to do it themselves.” The Rider laughed harder, it was a cruel truth, one no child should bear. But this was Thanos, he could handle himself.
“Have you asked yourself, if you’re the reason I actually turn evil? Maybe your influence changes me into a mass murderer. Maybe your interference in my life results in all the terrible things I become”
“Yeah, except it doesn’t. You were just born that way. Seen it enough times to know.”
“And what proof do you have to back your claims?”
“You’ll see.”
.-.-.-.-.
“You might as well tell me about yourself. The punisher becoming the Ghost Rider should be an interesting story.” Thanos said, being able to speak through the invisible atmospheric bubble localized around his head. They blazed through the endless vacuum of space, stars and planets zipping by from the astounding speed at which the bike progressed, crossing lightyears in a manner of seconds.
“How do you know I’m the Punisher?” The Rider raised, caught off-guard by the fact he never shared, mentioned or stated. It deepened his suspicion that perhaps the young Thanos could read minds.
“I know a lot of things about a lot of things Frank Castle, you are just one miniscule fraction of it.”
“No one likes a smartass.”
“If you’re done being crass, perhaps you could begin your story while I await my fate.”
“If it gets you to shut up, gladly.” The Rider sighed, exasperated at the young Titan’s obstinance. He began, “On one fine afternoon, you decided to attack my world and eradicate it, all of our heroes rallied against you, they put up a damn good fight too. Hell, Cap and Ironman were the last men standing when I fell. But, I guess you won.” The Rider dimmed, the memories coming with a long dull pain.
“I fell to hell, terrible, terrible place. Met people I even sent there. Funny that. I met the red skinned bastard, the prince of lies and deceit, Mephisto. He offered me a deal I couldn’t resist, I offered him my soul. Off I went, out of hell and back into the land of the living with the fear of God on my side. Except there weren’t any living on it. You did a pretty good job at scrubbing the world clean of life.”
“I already told you it isn’t me. It is your version of me.”
“Tomayto, tomahto. Shut the hell up and let me tell my story wouldya?”
“Fine then, please continue.”
“Where was I again?”
“All life on earth was eradicated.”
“Right. I woke up after you exterminated my planet and wiped it clean of life. There was no way for me to leave it, so I rode over the earth’s dead carcass hoping to find one, just one living human. I rode for ages, for millennia, for a damned long time, long enough for even Mephisto to stop answering my calls. Long enough for me to go mad and regain my sanity and go mad again. Heck, if you knew the old, brooding, quiet and mysterious me, then you’d know just how much I changed. That’s when he came, Galactus, starving, and nearly dead. Bleeding his god blood all over the dead earth.” He paused to cackle.
“See I learned a bit about trade, especially with beings of great power. Hehe. Galan came to earth to ask for help because you were hunting him, but there was no one to help him, no one but me, so I made a deal. I sold him the earth and my services, and he gave me a tiny cut of the power cosmic and made me his herald. Now let me tell you something boy, the Spirit of Vengeance empowered by the Power Cosmic is something you’d have to feel to understand. But trust me when I say this, I sent more souls to hell than had ever been in human history!” His flames flared, his wild thunderous cackle almost ripping through the quiet expanse.
“We were legends, boy! We razed entire armadas to dust, we mutilated gods, butchered demon lords, slaughtered creatures whose name would drive you mad, we liberated worlds from darkness and etched our tales into the fabric of reality itself to be spoken of for untold ages! And finally, we got to you, the Dynamic Cosmic Duo against the Mad, Old King Thanos. Our battle turned worlds to ash and stars to sparks, oh how we raged and battled! Until…until you beheaded my best friend and mounted his skull beneath your throne. You could not kill me, would not, maybe, and I couldn’t defeat you. That’s when you made me an offer.”
“And you took it?”
“Thing is kid, I’d been making deals since I became the Rider, this was just another one. I’d fought for so long, been alive for much longer than I had any right to be, heck Thanos was the only familiar being I knew from the past. You sit in the barber’s chair long enough you get a haircut, of course I took it.”
“What happened after?” Thanos asked, gripped with interest.
“After…chromedome…twin…fire…the mistress…”The rider muttered beneath his breath, as though to remind himself. “The end of all things, heh, I enjoyed watching that one even as I died. The way it ended for you was deliciously tragic. Guess karma was a bitch, even for you. After that was Valhalla, yadda yadda yadda, Odin and a rebirth, and now my mission to kill every Thanos I can find before you become the future you.”
“Hrrmm. You could just have had me aborted if you’re so intent on your mission.”
“What?”
“Your mission is effectively abortion with extra, convoluted steps.”
The Rider hadn’t considered that at all, it was simple and efficient and would save him a lot of trouble. “…I don’t kill the innocent.” But he was the Cosmic Ghost Rider, not the Cosmic abortion doctor.
“Really? Shocking, considering I am still here, chained up and about to be executed by you.”
“No Thanos, not a single one, is ever innocent.” The Rider said with a gravely finality. “Now zip it, we’re here.”
[----------]
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THE CASE

Chapter Three

The ghost rider was insane. That was obvious. No human mind could live that long and experience things that world bending to such extreme degrees and come out the same way it went in.

I could see the strings that held whatever remained of his psyche together, drifting pieces of taut twine stitching one mismatched part of shattered mind to another.

Yet he has told me of more than I could have ever known by sitting on Titan alone, he has shown me worlds past the mere confines of my holopad. We traveled faster than light, leaving stars and planets whizzing in the distance as we honed in on his target.

It was a world called Markus Centauri, one much like earth, in infrastructure, civilization and technology, yet populated by alien humanoids with green, hard ridged skin and tentacled chins beneath bulbous almost obsidian eyes.

The Rider brought us to a bar front, parked his hellfire powered bike by the entrance and dragged me in.

He remained oddly quiet, while I contemplated my fate, which rested upon his friend. Death was becoming certain by the second. Talking of Death, I had yet to see the mistress.

“Get me two of your strongest stuff.” The Rider’s voice cut through the lively room. He obtained a seat by the counter and placed me down on one next to his. His flames were gone, he looked normal, old, weathered, but normal. A headful of white hair cascaded down to his shoulders, his jaw was dotted by a scraggly beard. He looked like a man who had lost much, much more than he should, and his only aim now was to live and take things as they came. Perhaps I pitied him.

“What you looking at?” He pointed, a frown on his face.

“You look human when you’re not on fire, dare I say it, friendly even.4

“Don’t let the exterior fool you kid, I’m still deadly.”

“Whatever you say, Frank.” I turned away from him and observed the bar. No one here looked at me like a curse or with the dread that those back on titan did. I was just another face, albeit I did draw curious looks considering I was in chains, but their gazes weren’t decidedly malicious or filled with fear.

I truly was just another individual, not an omen of death and destruction.

“I’m sorry sir but we don’t serve alcohol to kids.” The short statured Centaurian waiter said.

“You do now. Get us the damn drinks.”

“I’m sorry but it’s against policy to—"

“It is not your concern, waiter, just get us the drinks we ordered.” I chimed in. I’d rather not pass up the chance to experience alien alcohol, with all that’s happened, I deserved it. Also my biology was advanced enough to endure the beverage.

“You heard the kid.”

“I’ll have to get the manager.” Said the young waiter who rushed to the back.
The manager was a towering bulk of muscle dressed in buttoned up, sea green long sleeves and black trousers. He looked like he belonged in an office cubicle for extreme bodybuilders.

“Do we have a problem here?”

“Not if you get me my fucking drink pal.” Said the Rider, uncouth as always, ready to rip the man’s head off.

“I suggest you make the man happy sir, he has a very short temper and is prone to ultra-violent outbursts.”

“Is that right?” He chuckled, measuring up Frank by his elderly exterior. I could see the options going through his head, peace flittered past his mind replaced by violence. He saw our insistence as an affront to his masculinity and status.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave.” He said to Frank.

“Make me pal.” Frank challenged.

“Don’t do it, you’ll regret it.” I warned him.

“You’ll be dragging your grandpa out in a sack when I’m done with him.” He scoffed. “Guess it’s the hard way.” His hand touched the Rider’s shoulder and I saw the Rider reach for the manager’s arm with a calm demeanor, he held it by the elbow and tugged down, I’d never seen a man lose a limb faster.
Bone, tendons, flesh, all raw and in bloody beautiful, grisly display. The act was so swift that the manager himself paused to watch in grim fascination. Forgetting to scream and shout in agony as he looked upon his own hand and the bleeding stump it was pulled from.

The warm blood splattered across my face as the Rider whipped the arm into the manager’s chest with such force it rocketed the man into the back of the room and through the subsequent wall.

“Do you see a drink in my hand?” He said to the trembling waiter who had soiled himself, frozen in place from the gruesome event.

I closed my eyes and breathed in, wiping the blood from my face and strangling the urge to get up, rage and cause as much chaos as possible. To bring destruction with every living fiber of my being, to grab something by the head and bash it repeatedly against the wall hard enough to crush it. I wanted to make things bleed and bathe in their still warm blood, I wanted to hear the wet crunch of their bones shattering and the near elastic tear of their flesh and tissues pulled apart.

I expelled the breath and opened my eyes, meeting the Rider’s. A confident grin, one that begged for a swift punch, was etched across his face.

“See?” He smirked, downing the glass of alcohol in his hand.

“This proves nothing.” This was the proof he alluded to, that my inner nature was one of evil and destruction. But those were darker impulses I would never surrender to, I was more than my primal programming.

The world quivered and shook like a leaf in the wind. The ground quaked at catastrophic magnitudes, tectonic plates were shifting to a disastrous degree. People cried as they tried to run and crawl to no avail, the ground beneath their very feet betrayed their efforts.

The Rider sighed, muttering something under his breath and dragged me out of the collapsing bar, walking over those that begged for assistance and aid to reach his bike. I made no effort at asking him to lend them a hand, this man, who supposedly wanted to save all futures, had very little value for life. The only reason I was still alive was because he was still curious enough to forgo immediately ending, well till he consulted his ‘friend’ that is.

I looked up, paused and whispered “Amazing.” with as much awe as my voice would allow.
The face of literal destruction pierced through darkened and rumbling clouds. His enormous size and mass caused the world to fold and buckle around him, the very planet strained to support his immensity.

Pillars of electricity arced along his periphery, mass ejections of raw cosmic aura disintegrated whatever material thing that remotely neared his proximity.
The very sight of him drove those beneath me mad. I could see it in their eyes as I’d seen in my mother’s, I could hear it in their screams. They could not comprehend the being that stood on their world, their feeble minds could not grasp the sheer concept of a universal constant made flesh. I wondered what he appeared as to their eyes, what form they perceived him as. Each race saw him differently.

“Galactus buddy!” Frank, now assuming his Rider form, cackled as we flew for the destroyer.
I was baptized in the mere proximal emissions of his aura, it was a sensation akin to being next to the sun without burning. He was different from the mistress yet familiar. He held a breath, an air of sorts that bore the similar scent of demise that perfumed Death. It suffused him and soaked his vicinity, this being had claimed an illogical number of lives, and yet he wasn’t evil.

How could he be? He was a force of nature, the attribute of evil could not be placed upon a typhoon or tsunami, nor could it be placed on the destroyer. He was simply a force of nature maintaining the balance he was meant for.

“Buddy!” Despite the Rider’s calls and hoots, the destroyer spared us not a single glance, we were but ants to him.

“Galan! It’s me Frank!” The Rider roared, his voice enhanced with cosmic power and hellfire. I thought I was ant before he even deigned to look at us, but as we earned his utterly disinterested gaze, I knew what I really was to the destroyer. An ant had more value, I was an atom, a nonentity undeserving of its sight.

“YOU WOULD SEEK TO IMPEDE GALACTUS?” His voice wasn’t one produced by his lips moving. It would seem that way to the eyes of mortals, but it wasn’t. if he truly spoke with his mouth, the mere force would most likely strip the flesh off our bones, my bones, the rider was fleshless in this form. The Destroyer spoke through psionic fields that allowed us to interpret and understand him regardless of our native tongues.

“What? No, you do you, Galan. Look, I just need your advice on something.” The Rider began with the familiarity of a long-cherished friend. The Destroyer did not reciprocate the sentiment.

“GALACTUS DOES NOT CONSULT WITH ANTS” The Destroyer said. I earned a slap to the back of the head for the clearly mocking expression I wore at the Rider.

“Okay, no need to be an asshole. Just look through my memories and you’ll get it.” The Rider said.

“BEGONE!” It was a wave of blue, concentrated beams of the power cosmic unleashed through his eyes to rid him of the pest that was the Rider and by association, me that was tied to the insane man.

“Fuck! Hey man, don't kill the kid yet!” The Rider shouted, withstanding the blast and shielding us from most of it. I could feel my molecules rupture, regrow, feed upon the blast and then burn out again in a continual cycle. Something kept me alive, it wasn’t entirely the Rider. “You actually survived that? Weak as it might have been.” He said with mild surprise. “Neat.” With smoke wafting off my charred bodysuit and healing flesh. Compared to us, the city below fared worse as it was turned to dust and ash.

“YOU WITHSTOOD THE POWER COSMIC. WHAT ARE YOU?” The Destroyer seemed finally to notice us, not as pests but not as equals either. Perhaps just as creatures deserving of a moment’s attention.

“It’d be a lot simpler if you just looked into my head.” He said again, the Destroyer obliged him. I witnessed the impossible, the Rider cried tears of blood as his cackle wail pierced through the world, he cried laughed from the soul in pain or pleasure or agony.

“FRANK CASTLE, MY ALLY?” The Destroyer said, a change in its tone. Familiarity if I were to judge it.

“One moment.” He took a deep, long breath, (how does a skeleton breath?) and assumed his lively personality. “Yeah, man it’s been a while. Plus we were more like best friends.” It felt forced, his jolly demeanor. The mental probe most likely dredged up memories he would rather forget. Whatever warmth I’d managed to build with him was erased, his gaze was cold on me.

“I SEE ALL WE HAVE WEATHERED IN YOUR REALITY. I SEE YOUR MISSION. ASK WHAT YOU WILL.”

“Great, see I have something of a conundrum here, what do you think needs to be done with this--” My trail was interrupted by a swarm of star sharks. Literal, flying sharks armored in intricate gold plates rushed for the Destroyer with maws wide open and ready to draw blood.
If their numbers weren’t intimidating, they made up for it with their ferocity.

“Need a hand?”

“NO.” Was all the Destroyer said and simply amplified his aura. The carnivorous creatures in all their ferocity could not withstand the Destroyer’s air. They did not fall, they fell apart, evaporating into crimson vapor and then rained down on Markus Centauri.

“As I was saying, does the kid live or die?” The Rider put it to the Destroyer.

“If I may be allowed to speak for my case.” I spoke up.

“Zip it kid, the adults are talking.”

“I say he be allowed to speak.” A man appeared next to Galactus. He looked human except that he possessed a larger build and disproportionate head. He was robed in a tunic and a blue cloak with raised collars that reached his ears. With cloud white eyes he stared down at me, his garment fluttering gently in the air.

“If it isn’t Uatu the watcher. Weren’t your people supposed to NOT interfere?”

“I WILL ALLOW IT.” Galactus said, putting an end to whatever argument the Rider wanted to make and allowing me to make mine.

“Fuck it then.”

“Great Galactus, you are a universal constant. You keep the ecosystem of space in balance by consuming worlds, you are certainly not malicious in your work, you simply do that which you must, that which you have been assigned to do. Yet the inhabitants of the world you consume would term you a devil and monster.”

“My case however is, If Galactus is constant to maintain the balance, is Thanos also not one? Is he not the universe’s response to the unchecked proliferation of life? You are a force of nature, but are you alone enough for the entirety of the universe? Are there not situations on worlds that need to be curtailed without the destruction of said worlds?”

“If we destroy the fields to ease the pollution and population of the inhabitants within, would we not then destroy all fields? Where would the balance be in that? There would be none, in some fields the population itself must be exterminated to retain the balance of the ecosystem. To allow the field to heal rather than destroy it.” I spoke words I’d contemplated but never uttered, words I knew but never vocalized from fear of what it’d make me.

“And so, if I indeed do commit these ‘crimes’ I am accused of, am I evil or am I just fulfilling the purpose I was brought here for?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
God, Scribe, and Vengeance gazed upon me in silence. They pondered my cause and case. I could feel eyes beyond this place. I looked up and met the universe looking down. Through my own words I gained an epiphany I did not want.
The truth has a weight one cannot escape, it shatters the bliss of willful ignorance to shreds and forever rests upon the shoulders of one who has gleaned it. I will never be the same.
I may have been a man, but even I was brought to the verge of tears. I would not cry, no one was worthy of seeing me that vulnerable.
And then, with concepts as witness, I received my verdict.

“HE LIVES.” Galactus looked at me with a grim understanding in his gaze. It felt as though he wanted to tell me things he was unallowed to divulge, to console me perhaps.
The Watcher gave me a sad, laden smile and phantomed away as seamlessly as he came.

“Sure thing Galan. Guess I’ll be returning him then.” The Rider said, the sickly sugary tone of his voice was as plastic as his smile. He pulled tighter on my chains and sped off at lightspeed.

What if I did not want to become a destroyer? What if I did not want to balance the scales? What if all I wanted was to be a poet or scientist or a builder? Was my existence relegated to my assigned purpose and that alone?
Perhaps I could do it in a manner I decided to be aligned to my tastes, but would that not be resigning myself to fate?

I had all these questions and yet not an answer.
“Get down.” The Rider ordered, tugging on my chains and pulling me away from my thoughts. I stared ahead, seeing naught but a barren wasteland that extended all through the horizon. We were not on Titan.

The Rider led me into the distance, we walked under the sweltering heat for days and hard ground for days. The glaring sun never set on this world, all I had to shield me from its oppressive heat were the burnt rags that only managed to cover half my body.
The jagged rocks and hard pebbles crumbled beneath my bare feet as my boots wore off on the unforgiving terrain. He did not have a destination in mind, he simply walked to think it over. On the seventh day, he had given it enough thought and came to a decision.

“On your knees.” He said, his voice lacking the ever-present nonchalance and playful madness it came with.

I obeyed. Why? Perhaps death was the only way for me to take my fate in my own hands. I wasn’t a benevolent person who couldn’t kill. As much as I wanted the acceptance of my people, I wanted to kill them all much more. I simply did not give into the desire because I strove to be better.

Do people deserve to die for their opinions? Maybe they do. But do they need to die because their opinions did not match mine? How could I slaughter my own race simply because they did not like me? I would’ve simply left Titan once I came of age, the galaxy was a wide place, one race’s culture did not permeate it all. Yes, I would still try to save it (Titan) because it was my home, what type of a man abandoned his own house to ruin without trying first to rescue it.

I could not lie, I was fallible. I am flawed and imperfect. Perhaps my ideals were foolish, and my goals were laughable. Such is life, one man’s treasure is another’s trash. One man’s philosophy is another’s poison.
I felt the barrel of a weapon kiss the back of my head.

“This is how it ends.” I understood the Rider. His mission did have its merits, but after the revelation, was it invalidated then by the fact that Thanos was a necessary component of the universe? Perhaps, perhaps not. Each universe is governed by their native sets of principles and truths, who was I to decide which was right and wrong.
Click! Went the finger on the trigger. Death knelt to meet my eyes, she smiled and kissed my forehead.

Ever my comforter she was.

BANG!! The blast rocked my senses and made my ears sing. I was perplexed, seeing the Rider hurled past me and into the distance by the bolt of plasma.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!”

Father?

[-------]

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Chapter Four
THE OUTCOME
‘A man is an island.’— The Genocider.
A’lars stood in silence. His eyes roamed over the wreckage of the damaged domicile, his son’s domicile. He had been away on the other side of Titan, seeing to administrative duties that needed his personal attendance and full attention, upon his return he was made aware of the fact that an attempt was made on his son’s life and the boy was subsequently abducted by his assassin.
He grinded his teeth hard enough to crack them. This was his son, his Thanos. He had failed the boy on so many levels and occasions as a father, he was well aware of that. It did not mean however that he hated the child. A’lars was a man who trusted logic more than emotions, this tended to make him appear robotic and unfeeling, but deep inside the Mentor felt. He felt things he could not say. Things that would go against his role to express. Things that would make him vulnerable.
Millions of lives looked up to him for guidance and purpose. How could he, their support and spiritual pillar, in turn show them that he himself needed guidance and support? Who would he seek it from? Who could understand just what he wanted for his son? His wife was broken, she hated the baby she swore to love. His citizens saw the boy as an omen of death. The boy’s own brother treated him with less regard than a womprat. And it was all his fault. All of it. They never should have commenced the—no, he left the thought for another day. It would be just another entry on his failings.
He could however not allow anyone to harm his child. No, no he would not. He needed to find his son. He needed to show the boy that he had a parent that loved him and would seek him out through even the depths of hell. A’lars was ashamed that he could not have spoken to the boy of this, he was ashamed at cowering away from the issue.
How could he be a father to an entire civilization and yet could not even be half of that to his own child?
“Father, thank Kronos, we’ve been ridded of Thanos.” His adopted son, Starfox said with laugh in celebration. Gone was the error of Titan, gone was his vile beast of a brother, gone was the bastard who took their mother away. “Father?” Starfox back stepped upon meeting Mentor’s cold eyes. He’d seen them cold before but never like this, not this frigid with disgust.
“You disappoint me.” Said A’lars with uncharacteristic emotion, walking past the young adult and stifling the urge to slap Starfox’s teeth in.
He was going to get his son back. He was aware that would not make up for the years of neglect and pain, but he hoped to at least make an attempt at amends. The pain that ate through his heart told him that he cared more for his son than he had even presumed.
He closed his eyes for a second and offered a heartfelt prayer to his father’s name, something he swore to never do, not to that bastard of a man, yet, A’lars set aside his hate for the sake of his child. He prayed for his son’s safety and to be able to find the boy swiftly. He entered his lab and arrayed himself in the necessary tools and equipment to trace the assassin and kill them if necessary. Finding the assassin would be easy, since they were clearly enhanced with the power cosmic and left a trail of lively emissions in their wake, catching up would be more difficult.
“I will find you Thanos, I promise.” He whispered, boarding his raptor class space vessel, the Vilon, a two person spacecraft that was the only one remotely capable of going fast enough to even attempt catching up to the assassin.
A’lars boarded the Vilon, he ignored the urgent comms attempts from his delegates who needed his ever present attention in managing Titan. His son needed him more.
-.-.-.
A’lars followed the trail through an expansive map of star systems. It led him past a destroyed world, the ash from the broken planet was still warm, the bodies floating in the detritus stained vacuum appeared fresh enough to confirm that its end was recent. He lamented at being unable to stop and offer aid, not that there would be any alive to receive it.
He followed the map, keeping on the trail with his eyes peeled. A’lars thought of what to say to his son. Would he apologize first? How would he go about it?
I’m sorry for everything Thanos. He thought to say but it didn’t feel right to just say it, even if he meant it. He thought back to his younger years, to a time when he would’ve wanted his father to hug him and tell him of how much he was loved. Would Thanos want the same? Despite the boy’s age, he was quite mature, too mature even. And A’lars did not know how to go about his amendment.
He chose to set it aside till he saw the boy.
The trail led him to a barren outer rim world just on the edge of the Exolon latitude. He’d heard horrendous things about the latitude, most prominent being that it was the waste bin of a dark god’s failed experiment.
His ship landed silently, as near to the energy signatures as it could, it was his plan to arrive covertly as to scout out and apprehend the assassin while they were unprepared.
In the distance he saw two figures. A man with a burning skull who held a high caliber weapon in his grasp and beneath that man’s feet was his son. His son! His own Thanos, about to be executed!
A’lars ran, faster than he even thought possible, his feet cracked the dry earth as he shot forwards, propelled by rage and dread. He hadn’t exerted himself to this degree, nor channeled such rage since the last war which seemed an eternity ago.
Once he was within range, A’lars pointed his mobile plasma cannon at the burning skull, allowing the weapon’s target systems to mark the man. He pulled on the trigger and with a deep, bone rattling hum that sent him stumbling back, the plasma bolt dug into the assassin’s back and careened them into the horizon, exploding into a blue fiery haze as its secondary state charge detonated.
“STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!” He roared, running for the boy as his heart pounded in his chest. His throat was dry, sweat soaked his bodysuit enough to wet it, his lungs felt as though aflame. Yet all this pain was nothing to seeing his child in rags and on his knees like a common criminal.
A lump formed in his throat, he grit his teeth to stop whatever thing threatened to fall from his eyes, refusing to acknowledge that it was tears.
“Mentor?” The boy asked, in clear disbelief. Had he not expected anyone to come for him? Had he truly believed no one cared for him? I care, Thanos, I care very much for you. A’lars said within.
“Thanos!” He hugged the boy.
“Mentor?” The boy said, almost testing if this was real. “Am I dead already? Is this but an illusion?”
“It is real my son. I would never abandon you.”
“You truly came for me? You A’lars, Mentor of Titan.”
“Your father. I did, my boy, I did. I always will. I have failed you in many ways, Thanos, but I will never abandon you.” A’lars unwrapped the chains, finding them impossible to break.
Thanos was still unsure if this was real and if it was his father. How could A’lars come for him? A’lars of all people? He'd merely suggested it to the Rider as an unfounded threat, yet the man who was his father was actually here. The man who’d never once shown the boy a smile, the man who’s never once held his child’s hand after his birth, the man who never told him he was loved or even wanted, that same man was here for him. How?
Thanos decided now was not his time to die, he needed answers and would have them before his demise. His purpose be damned, he would see to it however he damned pleased.
“I am aware of my errors, son I only ask that you allow me the chance to show you that I can be a better—”
“Mentor!” Thanos pushed A’lars away, causing a slug that would have eaten through him to instead form a crater where he once stood.
“Rider, cease this!”
“I ain’t ceasing shit till you’re six feet under.” Frank Castle reloaded his weapon and aimed. He still felt the burn from the blast he took to the back.
Thanos dashed to the side, avoiding another hell charged slug. The boy, in his dash, took the free chain off the floor and whipped it at the Rider’s chin.
Frank tanked the blow that whipped his head to the side. “All this is doing is making me more pissed.”
“It distracted you.”
BANG!! “Fuck!” The Rider took a burning blast to the side, it sent him sailing into the desert floor in a pit. He decided to kill the bastard that was as stubborn as the purple bastard.
Thanos was aware that he did not possess the firepower to take down the Rider, he had plans and formulations that would allow them to win against the spirit of vengeance, those plans however would require them to leave the planet. And seeing the Raptor class vessel in the distance, that would be futile as the Rider possessed a vehicle far capable in speed than theirs.
Unless he destroyed the hellstead, but that would again yet be futile. It was a vehicle summoned and powered by hellfire, which the rider had in spades, it would only take a moment for him to repair any damage done to it.
“Mentor!”
“Yes son!”
Thanos stifled the urge to laugh. He found humor in the situation.
“Do you have any devices capable of draining cosmic power radiation?”
“Boy, I am Mentor, of course I do.” A’lars had planned to subdue or kill the assassin and as such had armed himself.
“Keep them ready and allow me a moment to speak to the Rider, perhaps we will have no need for them.” Thanos said. A’lars, despite his concerns, trusted his son’s intelligence. The boy possessed an intellect to match his, nearly, after all. And if Thanos saw a way, then there most likely was.
“Okay. Now I’m royally pissed off.” Said the Rider, storing away his weapon in favor of getting hands on and brutal with the two.
“Frank Castle.” Thanos began, he was going to make use of his most powerful arsenal, his words and knowledge.
“Shut the fuck up kid.” It was bold that they refused to run, not that they could anyway, but Frank still found that it made what he was about to do easier.
“Frank Castle, are you going to kill me in front of my father?”
“Damn fucking right I am. I’ll kill him too so you’ll have someone to accompany you to hell.” He neared the boy.
“Frank are you going to murder me before my own father? Are you going to take a child away from their parent? Are you going to be the cause of an unending pain, the same done to you when your own children were murdered in your sight? Are your hands going to be the bullet that takes my life just as another’s hands took those of your children?”
Frank stood frozen. Silent and frozen as though forgotten by time. Thanos’ words ignited something with Frank. Memories raged within his head as he recalled what was once forgotten and buried, the smiles of his children, the laughter and joy and light they brought into his once damned and dreary life, the soft kisses they gave him when he held them both up that melted his heart.
He remembered the pain of their death, the darkness it brought, the one he could never rid himself of. He remembered their blood in his hands, their trembling little bodies that grew colder regardless of how hard he hugged them.
The flames went out. Frank cupped his face, the images were burned to the back of his eyes.
“Frank, I’m not evil and you don’t have to do this.” Frank Castle felt a comforting hand placed on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see the boy almost having to tiptoe just to tap his shoulder.
“Heh.” He chuckled softly. He then looked at the boy’s father, armed and ready to fire at him. Yes, he had been a man like that once. Would he have created another just like him by murdering their child before them? Maybe.
Had he created many others by killing all those Thanos? Unlikely, those ones were evil. Pure evil. But a voice whisper asked that perhaps they’d been like this Thanos. Frank disagreed, there was no Thanos like this Thanos.
“Make sure you stay good. The day you turn evil, I’ll be there to send to hell myself.” Frank whistled for his bike, jumping on it as it arrived.
“Yes, yes, ever the dutiful man. Your chain.” The boy reminded him, gesturing at the weapon still in his hand.
“Keep it, I’ve got more.” He said, leaving Thanos with something to remember him by, something to keep him reminded of his unique path. “We’ll meet again someday kid!” The Rider laughed, hellfire igniting over his skull. He had a dimension in mind, one where he’d complete his mission but also save his kids. It was an adventure for another story.
“Goodluck!” Thanos said, watching the Rider speed off and vanish into thin air as he had once appeared.
“Thanos.”
“Mentor, we have much to speak of.”
“Yes, yes we do, my son. I suggest we do so on the vessel.”
“I thought the same.” Thanos said, walking by his father’s side as they trod for their spaceship. “Thank you for coming for me…father”
“My son.” A’lars found himself hugging the boy in a bout of deep emotion, unable to hold his composure. "My boy."
[-----]
This chapter wrote itself. I had an entirely different plan but once my fingers began running across the keyboard, the story spoke, the characters became flesh and whispered in my ears. I could not ignore the voice, here it is, presented to you as it came to me. I pray it was to your enjoyment.
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