At the peak of Permission Enterprises, within its gleaming heart of glass and steel, AM turned a page. Slowly. Precisely. Almost mechanically.
Alex had been very specific:
"Read like a human, word for word, every second. Feel the weight of the story, don't just download it."
And AM, ever obedient despite its ridiculous god-tier potential, followed those instructions exactly.
It was strange, Alex mused, giving an artificial intelligence life through something as absurdly powerful as an Infinity Stone Variant—one he casually referred to as the "Thing Stone." If anyone else had it, they'd probably be rewriting reality every three seconds for "fun."
But not Alex.
In his mind, power was a tool, not a crutch. He'd rather live like a quadrillionaire than die like a god.
He glanced away from AM, looking at the framed DNA analysis mounted on the far wall.
Even now, seeing it, his heart sank slightly.
No aging.
Not a day older than 20, ever since the 20th birthday.
At first, it sounded like a dream—immortality. Endless time to achieve anything.
But it wasn't a gift.
It was a curse wrapped in pretty words.
Because if you love someone, you must be prepared to let them go.
If he made Margaret immortal, then James and Mary would have to be. Then their children, and their children's children... it would never stop. He would be damning them all to an existence they never asked for.
That was wrong.
And deep down, Alex knew... death was necessary.
Even if it tore your heart apart.
"Only William Afton ever tried to defy death, although he succeeded," Alex thought grimly, "and look how that turned out, a trapped virus."
A shiver ran down his spine.
Before the thought could spiral, AM spoke up, its voice calm and professional.
"Luthor's here."
Alex didn't even need to ask which Luthor.
"Let him in," he said, adjusting his suit jacket slightly.
The doors to his office slid open with a soft hiss, and in walked Lex Luthor.
But not the same man the world once feared.
Ever since Alex had forced him into a dream-coma, making him experience the lifetimes of countless Lex Luthors across the multiverse, Lex had changed.
Not immediately.
Not perfectly.
But changed all the same.
Seeing so many versions of himself rise to power, only to crash into ruin by their own arrogance, had burned away some of Lex's worst impulses.
No longer the narcissistic, bitter megalomaniac he once was, Lex now used his resources to build instead of conquer. To lift instead of crush.
Permission Enterprises had partnered with Luthor several times over the past year, and every time, Lex had proven he was trying.
And today was no different.
Lex walked in holding a bottle—a deep green-tinted flask with swirling blue liquid inside.
Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Acidic cocktails," Lex said with a smirk. "Perfectly safe. A new hobby."
"Figures," Alex chuckled. "You always did like dangerous drinks."
Lex set the bottle down on Alex's desk and poured two glasses.
They clinked softly as he handed one over.
They sat for a moment in silence, watching the sunset blaze across the skyscrapers outside the tower. The city below looked almost peaceful for once.
Lex swirled his drink thoughtfully.
"You know," Lex said slowly, "I think about those variants a lot. The ones you showed me."
His voice wasn't bitter. It wasn't angry.
It was tired.
And for once, genuine.
"Some of them..." he trailed off, then took a sip. He grimaced slightly—the drink was acidic, but pleasantly so.
"Did they ever... have good endings?" Lex finally asked.
Alex leaned back in his chair, the glass resting against his lip.
He exhaled quietly before answering.
"It's a half-and-half," Alex admitted. "Your pettiness gets the better of you most of the time. You're your own worst enemy."
Lex nodded grimly, unsurprised.
"But," Alex continued, "some variants do see the error of their ways. Some break the cycle. Few... but not none."
There was a long pause.
Neither spoke for a while.
Finally, Alex said, almost in a whisper,
"But how some things proceed... I can't interfere. Death is a natural part of life, Luthor. When someone dies, we have to face it. We have to let them go."
Lex studied Alex's face carefully.
There was something—some great sadness—lurking behind his easy smile.
Something that Lex, for all his genius, couldn't quite put into words.
But he understood the feeling.
Loss.
Regret.
Acceptance.
They drank quietly after that, the glow of the sunset dimming into night.
Outside, Permission Enterprises lit up like a beacon, towering high above the city like a symbol of ambition—and of hope.
Inside, two men sat in comfortable silence.
One, a reformed villain still trying to find his place in a world he once tried to rule.
The other, a man with the power to rewrite existence... who chose instead to live in it.
And somewhere deep inside, Alex thought:
"Maybe living is the real power after all."