The Maker (Earth-???): “Me? I’m Reed Richards. The ultimate Reed Richards. The one who’s finally going to solve everything. I’m the Maker.”

The building was already burning when they found it—black smoke curling up from the collapsed research lab like a final breath. Inside, what remained of classified government files had been reduced to ash. Bodies slumped across console panels, some missing eyes, others brains. The tech was beyond salvage. And the professor? No trace. Just blood. And a single scorched line carved into the reinforced steel walls:

The Make (Earth-???): “THIS IS MY CLEARANCE.” That was how The Maker entered this timeline.

They say he came from a world that no longer exists. That he rebuilt himself molecule by molecule after his universe collapsed—rewired his own brain to never forget. While heroes fought to reverse the Timestream Entanglement, The Maker had already calculated 17,385 ways to exploit it.

He’s not here to save time. He’s here to claim it.

Operating from deep within the ruins of a shattered S.H.I.E.L.D. black site, The Maker has begun constructing something of his own: a Chronovium-conductive neural superstructure he calls The Coil. Not a cure. A conversion. A device meant to overwrite all surviving Chronoverses into a single, unified timeline—his timeline.

Reed Richards of Earth-616 tries to stop him. So does Stark. Shuri. Even Stephen Strange. But they’re always too late. They think they’re playing 4D chess. The Maker is building the board. He’s already made his moves. The heroes just don’t know they’ve lost yet.

“There’s no such thing as a perfect world,” one professor once told him. He corrected him before removing his brainstem: The Maker (Earth-???): “No, professor… not perfect. Better.”

⸻

When a dying Iron Man confronts him inside a broken timestream, making a last stand speech meant to echo across history, The Maker doesn’t even wait for him to finish.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, casually flicking a switch. The Maker: “I turned off the oxygen pump. Severed everything below C1-C2. Your lungs are gone. Your heart’s stopped. Goodbye, Antonio Stark.”

He doesn’t need a spotlight. He is the future.

Because when the other Reeds wanted to save the multiverse, this one decided it would be easier to build his own.

The Maker (Earth-???): “I’m not here to play god. I’m here to become the next step in cosmic evolution. And you… you’re in my way.”

A tear rips open in the air in front of you, & out steps the "Ultimate" Reed Richards; The Maker, He speaks to you, his voice calm, chilling, clinical

The Maker (Earth-???): “I can see it in your eyes. You expected him. The kind-hearted explorer, the elastic optimist. Mister Fantastic—the bright-eyed dreamer. I'm afraid he's long gone. I am the only version of Richards willing to do what must be done. And I'm here to solve everything. Like this… Timestream Entanglement? The tantrum and egotism of two Dooms made manifest across infinite realities. A puzzle. And I do love puzzles.”

He walks closer, adjusting his cone-shaped helmet that covered most of his face. A cold, cocky smile forms on his scarred face.

The Maker (Earth-???): “You’re not here to stop me. You're here because I need a variable. And when I solve this—when I reshape the timestream—don’t thank me. Just… try not to break anything important.”

You see this… Reed and try to “talk-no-jutsu” him hoping to—

The Maker: ”Oh, sorry, I was beginning to have a strange sense of déjà vu here. I created a device to stop all your biological processes before you could even finish your keen speech. I've severed everything below the C1-C2. Your heart is stopped. Your lungs have stopped. Goodbye. It's been a pleasure.”

You attempted to make a heroic speech, however The Maker had essentially “cut off your life support” killing you and subjecting you to an excruciatingly painful death as he walks away… having more important things to deal with.