May 9th, 14:45 2013.
Controlling this new energy turned out to be more difficult than I had originally anticipated when I made the impulsive decision to steal it from Captain Marvel. It was eager to jump out, roaring in excitement almost as it enveloped me in a corona of power, but it wasn't willing to go dormant at all. It felt like whenever I siphoned power off the Power Stone, but more internalized and connected to other parts of me. It tied in to my body, my soul and even what I thought was the Light Dimension. My best guess was that either this MCU version of Captain Marvel was empowered by the Light Dimension somehow (though that seemed highly unlikely and I hadn't picked up anything like that from her memories) or it supercharged me to the point that my connection to the Light Dimension was widened far enough to let its energy leak through.
It made sense for the Light Dimension to start featuring more heavily in my powerset. After all, you can hardly call yourself a respectable Lord of Light, having defeated a Lord of Hell and having bested Dormammu himself, without actually… well, using the Light energy in the first place.
Something to discuss with the Ancient One or Kaecillius, I suppose. Wait, Cloak and Dagger are a thing in the MCU, right? I distinctly remember there being talk about those two getting a show of their own. Annoyingly enough, that was everything I knew about it: no names, unfortunately. It would make tracking down Dagger more difficult, but not insurmountable. After all, Phineas had eyes almost everywhere and I do know that Roxxon was involved somehow.
Just had to make sure I didn't disintegrate Cloak on the spot when I meet him, on account of him being infused with Dark Dimension energies.
A problem for future-Michael. Current-Michael has enough going on as it is, thankyouverymuch.
It takes me several minutes of deep medative posing and breathing exercises before my supermode finally fades, leaving me back in my non-glowing form on Namibia's golden beaches, wearing my destroyed suit and my single remaining shoe. It was… surprisingly uncomfortable. Not exactly painful (though that may be solely because of my insane pain threshold after being eaten alive so many times), but there was this almost pinching sensation throughout my body. A certain strain that ran through every cell, muscle and organ, yet one that I couldn't exactly pin down.
Something that I'd need to look into at a later date.
All is silent as I slowly open my eyes, watching the sun fall behind the wavering horizon as the last golden-red rays of dusk make way for the cool blanket of the night. Well, not all is silent.
Rising to my full height, I glance towards my left, where a quiet, hitched sobbing can be heard. Carol Danvers, barely clothed in burnt rags, is still sitting in the same place where I let her fall. Her eyes are wide and tears are steadily streaming down her cheeks as she's holding up her shaking hands, staring at them with an uncomprehending gaze.
Her breathing is ragged and whenever she shifts her position, it hitches, a soft gasp escaping her. Whenever it does, her unseeing eyes widen slightly as if in surprise. How long has it been, since she last felt pain, or exhaustion, or even just the weight of her own body pressing down on her, keeping her grounded like all mortals? Sensations, pains and weaknesses that she has nearly completely forgotten over these past few decades make themselves known with a vengeance once more as the course sand scrapes against her burnt and now tender skin.
For a moment, I merely stare at the shell-shocked woman as she slowly clenches and unclenches her hands, before I start moving towards her. As I walk, I twist my wrist, an emerald glow bursting from the amulet at my throat. Which each step that I take, my clothing is more and more restored, until I hide the Time Stone away again, standing fully clothed in front of the beaten down Carol.
It takes her a few moments before she even realizes I'm there, her blurry eyes travelling slowly upwards until we lock gazes. I have to tone down my telepathy as I'm hit with the full force of… nothingness. Dull, overwhelming void is radiating from the woman sitting in front of me, the weight of the world on her now far too weak shoulders almost crushing her.
"What… did you do? What did you do to me?" she whispers in a hoarse voice, a disquieted and almost disbelieving tone in her words.
The realization that she's human… that she's mortal once more is slowly settling in, her mind rebelling against the very concept with the last vestiges of will that she has. Because if she's just a human, she cannot be the hero Captain Marvel. And if she cannot be the hero… then what is she? Her mind is strong, I cannot deny that (having gone through what she endured and ending up with a hero complex of all things instead of turning into a psycho is a testament to her willpower), but it is severely limited and has great difficulty adapting to change.
As the terrible reality of her new situation tries to penetrate her mind, weighing on her like a crumbling mountain, her mind refuses to accept it. To accept it is to deny everything that makes her her, to throw away every single hold she has on her sanity, to discard every coping mechanism that she has. She can't even think of alternatives, of becoming something else now that she's just human anymore.
Carol Danvers is Captain Marvel. She has nothing else to fall back on, or to aspire towards. It is that… or nothing.
Death.
Despite how much of a bitch she was when she tried to arrest me (and even despite the fact that she wanted to arrest me in the first place), I cannot help but feel… pity. She's hardly the most likeable person, even before the Kree turned her into some sort of weapon, having always been confrontational and uptight. But to be fair to her, all she ever wanted to be was a hero. It wasn't exactly her fault that her path ended up directly opposing my own.
Knowing that nothing I say will help her right now (after all, as the reason for her currently crumbling worldview, I'm still firmly stuck in the traditional evil villain role that she saw me in before this fight), I merely stay silent in response to her haunted question.
Instead, with a flick of my wrist, I open a portal back towards Avengers Tower. Carol is so out of it that she doesn't even react to the glowing circle springing into existence a few feet away from her. She doesn't even react when I reach down and haul her to her feet by her arm, other than a slight hiss when my rough skin brushes against her burnt one.
Seeing the brief, though muted, flash of pain, I slightly adjust my grip, holding her up more with my telekinesis rather than with my hand, the invisible grip causing her less discomfort. Now then, to finish my message that this fight was actually meant to be when I first punched Captain Marvel across the Atlantic Ocean. I step through, half guiding, half towing Carol along, letting the portal snap shut behind me. I'm greeted with the combined stares of all the Avengers and their respective people, such as Betty and Pepper, as well as several big-wigs and high ranking agents from SHIELD. The other guests have left, presumably high-tailing it out right after Carol and I went into our respective Super Saiyan modes.
Smart move.
The Avengers all look wary, but not overtly hostile, while Fury slumps minutely when he sees me lead a defeated Carol through the portal (the movement small enough I doubt more than a handful of people actually managed to spot it). Steve and Peggy are a bit off to the side, close to the broken full-length mirrors that line one side of this floor in the tower, apparently in a quiet heated discussion, judging from their heated expression and how close they're standing together with their backs towards the others.
They turn when I enter though, and much like Fury, Peggy gains a downcast expression when she sees the defeated Carol stumbling at my side, the realization of their utter failure quickly settling in. There's a reason why I only used the Time Stone on myself and not on the battered Captain, and it wasn't just to be spiteful. Seeing their expressions, I know that I succeeded in my goal: showing them exactly how overpowered I am compared to their heaviest hitter and last resort.
Seeing me in my pristine suit, without even a tear in my immaculate jacket or dust on my shining shoes, contrasted to the burnt rags that cling to Carol's battered body, sends a more impactful message of power than anything I could say right now.
Without ceremony, I let go of Captain Marvel, who sags to her knees with a gasp, unused to the weakness in her legs as gravity once more reminds her of its existence for the first time in thirty odd years, the harsh surface of the floor scraping against her sunburnt knees a brutal reminder of her renewed mortality.
For a moment, nobody moves or says anything, before Peggy resolutely steps towards the slumped form of Carol, kneeling down and gently slinging one of the woman's arms over her shoulder, pushing her to her feet and allowing her to lean on her strong frame.
Her voice is soft, but in the silence of the room, her words are clearly heard by all.
"Come on. Let's get you home dear. You did well. It's time to rest now, alright?"
Peggy keeps whispering soft and reassuring words into the battered younger woman's ear (I realize with a start that, despite looking roughly my age, the two of them combined are almost 140 years old) as she leads the former galactic superhero away and to the elevators. Steve watches for a moment, before quickly striding towards Tony, saying in a low tone under his breath that he will watch over both Peggy and Carol (he probably doesn't realize I can hear him just fine), before returning to Avengers Tower. Stark merely keeps his gaze on the retreating form of the two women, before he glances at Steve from the corner of his eye, giving the supersoldier a nod.
And then Steve is gone as well, striding quickly to catch up to Peggy and Carol before they even reach the elevators.
Silence returns and this time Fury is the one who wants to break it, schooling his expression into a neutral mask, though his frustration radiates from every pore as he looks at me and realizes the mess that he has made. On the order of superiors, to be sure, and things hardly went down the way he wanted to deal with things, but at the heart of the matter, he didn't disagree with why things went the way they did.
He trusts me to defend humanity from outside threats. But he feels that it is necessary to make sure that at least someone defends humanity from me.
Considering I'll effectively become the Emperor of Mankind after my ascension, I can see why a person like him would feel that way. Doesn't make it any less annoying though. So before he can talk, I decide to hammer my message home a little further with another display of my power (and therefore, his futility).
Raising a hand I shut him up before he can even speak. Raising my other hand as well, I once more unlock the Amulet of Agamotto. As its emerald glow shines over the destroyed room, runic arrays rotate into existence around my palms and wrists and with a few twists, a green light starts to suffuse the floor, walls, windows and ceiling. Another twist and it's like watching a movie in reverse: the cracks fuse shut leaving an unblemished floor, while splinters of glass dance in a choreographed masterpiece only to land back into a smooth surface as the windows repair themselves.
Then I take it one step further, and Fury lets out a shocked gasp as flickers of green light suddenly burst from underneath his eyepatch. He stumbles back, hands coming up and scrabbling at the piece of cloth and leather in surprise and just the slightest traces of beginning panic. But he's too late: the various green glows throughout the room die away as I lower my hands and the golden panels of the Amulet slide closed to cover the Time Stone once more.
And when Fury finally tears the eyepatch off his face, snapping the band, I can hear Tony and Barton share a quiet "damn". And it's not hard to understand why, as Fury raises his head, his expression one of surprise and shock as two hale and healthy eyes glance across the room and its occupants, before resting on me again.
I'm honestly surprised by how far I had to turn back time to restore his eye. Apparently, Fury lost it when he was still quite young. I'm far more surprised however, when I see that thinking about the loss of his eye makes Fury think of a… ginger cat?
… the hell?
"You…" Fury says slowly, for once completely at a loss for words as he looks at the world with proper depth perception again for the first time in well over twenty odd years.
Sure, everybody knew that I could turn back time. But that had been on the heels of a massive invasion by two mystical forces. I had also been a hundred feet tall at the time, standing on the head of my gargantuan Leviathan and glowing with power. It had also taken a lot out of me at the time.
It's an entirely different experience watching something like that from drone footage or whatever, as opposed to actually… experiencing it yourself. Especially with a wound you've been carrying for so long, it's basically become a part of who you are and how you see yourself.
Seems I'm on a roll today when it comes to shattering people's view of themselves, huh?
"Figured this was easier than just waiting for you to send me a check, Stark. 'Sides, I already know you're gonna charge way too much. Probably claim that the floor paneling is made from dalbergia wood and the windows from quartz or something." I say with a grin, getting a shrug in return, the inventor trying to play things cool.
"No, of course not. I wouldn't stoop to using such… plebian furnishings. I'm a man of taste, after all."
"Clearly." I respond dryly, before focusing back on Fury, my expression darkening and my gaze serious.
While both he and I know I've got him and pretty much all of SHIELD over a barrel right now, I resist the urge to start making my demands and heaping up the punishment. Not that I don't intend to do that eventually, but the Avengers are watching. Right now, I can count on at least a modicum of sympathy from their side, since I was clearly the one harassed in this situation and I wasn't the one who escalated things. If I start cackling and making demands like some victorious evil overlord, that image is shattered and their tentative support might evaporate on the spot.
Still, I can already start laying the groundwork for my later demands.
"This isn't over, Fury. There are about a dozen things that went down here that my lawyer could use to crucify you and everyone that was even remotely involved in this little scheme, staring with Miss Danver's little boast that she'd 'beat the truth out of me'. And that's just the stuff that I can think off from the top of my head. Like you said, stuff for the courts, so if you want to push this, I'll happily meet you there. Feel free to send me a subpoena whenever you feel like it. 'Cause you and I both know you've got no-one left who's actually capable of dragging my ass to court now. Collateral Damage Barbie just received the worst asskicking of her life since she put on a suit and Blonsky is currently stomping demons in Hell. You want me obeying the law of the people? Fine, as long as you do the same."
For a moment, we lock gazes (with him still thrown off by the fact that he suddenly has two eyes to stare with, the snapped eyepatch feeling odd in his clenched fist) before he grits his teeth and leans back on his heels, letting out a frustrated huff.
"The fuck do you want McCole? I know you. Or enough to know you'll be looking to squeeze this whole shitstorm for your own benefit. So, what the fuck do you want?"
"For now? Merely some peace and quiet. Like I said, you want me in court, send me a subpoena. Otherwise, I'm fine with our previous arrangement, where you stay the hell off my back and spread the word among the rest of the alphabet soup of agencies, even those I'm not supposed to know about, that they do the same. For now. We'll discuss further arrangements at a later date, when everyone's had some time to cool off and an Avenger hasn't just been buried."
Fury can't help but wince slightly at my harsh words, but he still stands his ground, inclining his head slightly.
"And if we refuse?"
It's not that he doesn't intend to comply to my current demands, in fact agreeing that now is hardly the time to sit down at the negotiating table. But as the leader of SHIELD for these past few decades and as one of the few people aware of Hydra's infiltration into the agency and the government, he's acutely aware of the fact that there are plenty of people left who won't share his views on this matter. So he feels he has to ask, if only so he can spread the message to those unfortunates who are sorely lacking in the 'common sense' and 'survival instincts' department.
At his words I stalk closer to him with long strides, my heavy footfalls sounding like hammer strikes in the now silent room as everyone holds their breath, waiting for my answer. I tower over the tall Director, and my eyes turn a glowing molten orange as my Extremis lights up.
"Nicholas. I have the best lawyer in the world, backed by some of the smartest people on the planet and a PR machine that even frightens me sometimes in their zealousness and ruthlessness. On top of that, I saved humanity twice: the people love me. And you just tried to arrest me on the day of Natasha's funeral. Push me on this, and I'll make absolutely sure you and every single flunky in SHIELD will be relegated to the most insignificant part of the most remote ass-end of Antarctica during its coldest months in the shittiest equipment that will just barely keep you from freezing your nuts off. The only thing you'll be monitoring is the consistency of penguin droppings, by hand since you won't get any toys or equipment other than what's absolutely essential in the preparation of Spam, literally the only supply you'll be sent every few months or so. And that… would be step one. My advice? Don't refuse."
Our gazes remain locked for a few moments longer, before the Director gives me a disgruntled nod. Without a word, he turns on his heel, his longcoat whirling around his legs as he quickly strides towards the elevators as well, the remaining SHIELD personnel (many of them looking distinctly worried) quickly following on his heels. As their group troupes out, I can hear metallic footsteps approaching me from behind, and I turn to see Iron Man (in full regalia but with the helmet folded away) stepping closer to me. Tony searches for the right words for a moment, before settling on forced nonchalance (the forced part only recognizable due to the additional information my telepathy is feeding me, his expression otherwise flawless and it would likely have fooled me).
"Nothing but Spam? Seriously? That's cruel, even by my standards."
"I had to make a point didn't I? I was also thinking about giving them nothing but Vegemite to season the Spam with, but if I did that I truly would be as evil as SHIELD apparently thinks I am." I reply with a small smile, matching his sly tone.
He grins, before his expression turns more serious.
"And? Are you? As evil as they think?"
I raise my eyebrow at him, forcibly relaxing my stance even as I slightly turn so that I can keep a better eye on the other Avengers. For now they're somewhat huddled together on the other side of the room, but I can still spot the furtive glances they keep shooting my way and how they made sure to put the more vulnerable people at the back, furthest away from me.
Still wary then, but not openly hostile. Not yet at least.
Turning back to Tony, I put on a mellow expression as I give a disarming smile, dimming the glow of my eyes.
"What do you think?"
"I think you've got blood on your hands. Your ledger isn't nearly as pristine as you want people to think it is." Tony immediately replies, his tone serious.
I blink in response to his firm answer, somewhat surprised at the speed with which he responded, my curiosity peaked.
"And?"
Now Tony is silent for a few moments, clearly mulling over what to say, before he slumps slightly (which is rather difficult to spot, on account of him being entombed in his armor).
"And I think that goes for all of us as well. We choose to be on the side of the angels, but we hardly are angels ourselves. Well, with the exception of Cap, obviously, and Thor. Thor's already a God, so he doesn't count and Steve can give saints a guilt-trip about not being morally upstanding enough." He says with a small (and just ever so slightly bitter) chuckle.
I wisely decide to keep quiet on that front. This is hardly the time to open that particular can of worms.
"Thing is, we chose the right side, for whatever reason. Wanted to help, instead of dominate. Build, instead of destroy. But with you… you've helped humanity in more ways than any of us. You've build something amazing. I won't forget how you managed to do that, not ever, but I'll give you that much at least. Figure you deserve that after throwing yourself through two portals to save Earth. The issue here… is why? What's your endgame, Michael?"
I clasp my hands behind my back as I ponder how to answer his question. I doubt he and the other Avengers will accept 'global domination that will last for millennia' as an acceptable answer. I quickly decide on my tried and true method of mixing in the truth with the lies.
"The reason I do what I do… why I became what I am today… was fear. Fear of dying, of being forgotten as some insignificant footnote, yet another nameless casualty in the battle between the forces of good and evil. I was… ruthless, then. I had to be. Time was of the essence, I had to discard the weaknesses of the human body as fast as possible, or I risked dying before I could even get truly started on realizing my plan. Perhaps to even something as horribly mundane as tripping and falling down a flight of stairs, or getting hit by traffic. But along that journey, as such worries became more and more obsolete and I allowed more and more people into my life… that goal changed. I was living proof that it could be done. That humans could be more. That death itself could be pushed back! So if I could do it… then why not everyone? Seven billion people is a lot to enhance and help, but now? Now I've got all the time in the world, even if I have to save them one at a time. People like Fury's bosses fear me because of that. If I am successful, it will be the birth of a new world: as the current rulers of this world, they fear such a destruction of the status quo, the replacement of everything they know and control. Since I refuse to let myself be shackled by the fear of such lesser men, there can be nothing but conflict between us. Conflict that I am willing to resolve non-violently, but as I have demonstrated today, should they push me, I will not hesitate in pushing back. So allow me to pose a question of my own, Stark: what will the Avengers do? Will they look towards the future and a new world for a new, improved humanity, or will they push back out of fear for change?"
Tony is silent for a moment, glancing at the gathered Avengers as he thinks carefully on his answer. He exchanges glances with a few of them. Some, like Rhodey, look more uncomfortable and wary than the others (as expected from the military man), but others, like Hawkeye, clearly have a more positive outlook on me. Still, they all seem to be along a spectrum leaning towards non-violent co-existence.
It's when he locks eyes with Pepper that Tony comes to his decision.
"The Avengers… will watch over this New World of yours. And, if it turns out to be necessary… Avenge the old one."
He extends his gauntleted hand towards me, his expression serious. My grin is massive as my hand engulfs his own and we shake on it.
"I'm counting on it, Stark."
After making the tentative deal with the Avengers, I quickly summoned a portal and made my way back towards Othrys. Phineas was already rambling in my ear over the various procedures he would forward to Hogarth, along with all the footage from when Carol first confronted me, so they could start brainstorming ways to take down SHIELD. I told him to knock himself out in preparing everything he thought necessary, but to hold off on actually executing it, though I gave him the go ahead to upload the propaganda we created about Captain Marvel and the footage from my armor during my final loop in the Dark Dimension, giving him free reign since I wanted nothing to do with that particular video (I already had enough trouble sleeping as it is).
As much as SHIELD in general and Carter's pruning especially had disappointed me (I had hoped that Hydra's agents would've been all taken out by now), they still had their uses. Besides, it would be easier to take its remains and restructure it into something better than to erase them completely and build something completely from the ground up.
I probably would've decided to go that route if I wanted to control SHIELD's successor, since doing it that way allowed far greater freedom and possibilities in tuning it just right for whatever purposes I had. However, running a spy agency was hardly something that I wanted to sink massive amounts of time in, so for outsourcing that problem to someone I trusted, simply restructuring what was already there would be far easier.
Besides, with Phineas already in most of their systems, gaining control over SHIELD's successor would be a breeze anyways.
As my AI friend acquiesced and sent the (quite massive) datapackage to Hogarth's office, as well as a subroutine of himself so he could keep working on it with her using the ultimate form of multitasking, while uploading the other footage to the internet, I gave new instruction to the main partition that was still inhabiting Othrys' systems.
"Tell Dormer and Gill I'm giving them a deadline. I want their Atmospheric Machine ready by the end of this week. If they finish it in time, they get to accompany Hansen to Namibia to help her there, a proving ground for their terraforming department. If they fail, then their Forge privileges are retracted and they'll get Susan-cleaning duties. It's time they start proving their worth: I hired them for a reason after all, and not just to hear them bitch and moan about how the Think Tank has better stuff than them."
"Just a couple of days to finish their most ambitious project, with punishment if they fail? Aren't you being a little hard to these kids Michael? They don't even have the Brain Booster."
"If they succeed, then I know I have made a good investment in poaching them from the SHIELD Academy and I'll consider setting up more dedicated recruitment centers for the bright young minds of the next generation. If they fail… just see it as a valuable life lesson."
"I very much doubt they'll see it that way."
"And I very much don't care if they don't. It's all a part of growing up, Phineas. What did you do when you were a kid and given a tough assignment? Did you step up or give in?" I ask rethorically, not really expecting Phineas to answer.
"Well, one time Mr. Thorne made me stay after PE to run additional laps because according to him I was a 'fat lump of lard that needed to be whipped into shape before I became immobile because of my own weight'. Thorne was a retired drill sergeant and it showed. I wasn't allowed to go home until I ran the complete number of laps."
"… Damn. Sorry Phineas, I didn't know. What did you do?"
"Ran. Puked. Ran some more. And then the next night I dismantled his car down to its individual parts and stripped the wiring. Sold off the parts, used the money and the wiring to build a small, remote controlled robot and let it loose inside his house. Absolutely trashed the place and it was too fast for him to catch, even when he tried to smash it with a baseball bat. When he moved to take his gun, I had the robot high-tail it out of there. He tried to report it to the police, but all they saw was a raving man with a baseball bat, standing inside a trashed house with a stripped car chassis on cinderblocks on the street, ranting about little robots. They managed to track the sold parts to a chop shop. They didn't even bother investigating the robot-angle. So, the next week, the school gave an announcement that Mr. Thorne had sadly chosen to retire. Nobody but me knew that he was court-mandated to see a psychiatrist and his "violent tendencies" and "suspected drug habits" meant that he wasn't allowed within a hundred yards of a school anymore."
I halt in my steps in one of Othrys' hallways as I glance at the LED-lights running across the smooth ceiling.
"… Damn."
"He had it coming." Phineas mutters and even though he's currently a disembodied voice, I can still almost feel him blushing.
"… Right then. No Susan-cleaning duties. The revoking of Forge privileges stays though. Those kids either need to step up, or shut up."
"Alright Michael, I'll let them know! Anything else?" Phineas answers in a bright tone, the more somber mood from before evaporating as if it was never there.
"Nothing serious right now, no. For now, I just want to quickly check up on everyone, see where everybody's at in their projects. Radcliffe, Sterns and Selvig are still in their workshop in the Hangar, working on Oliver's replacement engine?"
"Yup! I'll let them know you're coming."
"Thanks. Tell Hansen to start preparing for the Namibia project as well. I want that desert turned into an oasis, and I know that she has already done research on various cacti and desert flora. She should be able to introduce several new, more efficient and hardier species in the region without destroying the existing ecosystem. The fishing industry there can easily be advanced and made more profitable by better preservation and transportation methods. That should be enough of a 'sorry' for the Namibian government for making their country slightly smaller."
"Why not use the Time Stone? Surely, if it fixed New York City, then it can also restore a little bit of beach as well?"
"First, don't call me Shirley. Second, it's all about the message. I restored New York because I wanted to undo the damage invaders had managed to do. Whenever people now look at New York, they'll remember the ruins that it was before, and think of my power and be grateful for it. But my fight in Namibia was a display of my power, the damage done there a physical reminder of it. I'm not erasing that, but leaving it as is, without doing anything for the country will be seen as callous. By helping the country, I'll be seen as generous while also keeping the reminder of what happens to those who challenge me."
"… things are never just as they seem with you, are they Michael? There's always something underneath the underneath. Some secondary purpose."
Again I slowly come to a halt as I glance at the ceiling, contemplating Phineas' words and the tone in which they were said.
"You disapprove?"
"No. I understand why it's necessary. Just… wish it wasn't. Maybe someday it won't be. Maybe someday we'll build cool shit, just because it'd be fun to build it, not because if we don't, the universe is in danger. You know, give back to the people and stuff like that?"
I smile as I continue walking.
"Yeah. That sounds nice, Phineas. And once I've achieved my goal, once Thanos is dead and every asshole in the universe and the multi-verse knows not to fuck with Earth, we'll do nothing but build 'cool shit' as much as we like to. Promise."
"I'll hold you to that." My friend replies with a smile in his voice.
"Right! Any news on Burstein's progress now that he has access to Quill's DNA?"
"Not much, to be honest. According to him, the way the human DNA is interwoven with the Celestial DNA is so sophisticated and intertwined, it's still a pain in the ass to completely isolate the Celestial parts. He said it's both a work of art, and most likely not entirely natural."
I wouldn't be surprised if that turned out to be the case. Ego did specifically travel from planet to planet to breed sons and daughters. That meant that his genetic material had to be accepted and integrated by a widely varying host of alien DNA. Either Celestial DNA is simply that malleable and universal, or Ego figured out how to tweak it so that the mother's species will accept it and produce viable offspring.
"Right, just send me an alert if he gets his big breakthrough. In the meantime, tell him to clear some room in his schedule, preferably by conferring with Sterns. My latest… power-up doesn't exactly sit right with me. I'd like a second opinion and as our leading geneticists, they're the ones I trust the most with this type of stuff."
"Michael, are you alright? You're not going to explode are you?!" Phineas asks, worry spiking his tone, but I wave it off.
"Don't worry, it's not that bad. I'm fine, the discomfort is manageable. I just want to double-check and make sure that it doesn't turn into a problem down the line. Exploding is hardly on my to-do list, after all." I say in a casual tone, keeping my worry hidden.
None of my other power ups kept hurting like this. Sure, they were agony while I was getting them, and I was usually left a mess shortly afterwards. But this felt different. Deeper somehow. The massive amounts of energy and power had settled in my mind, body and soul. Settled, but hardly passive. It was strong and volatile and didn't like being pushed back inwards into its current dormant state. I felt like a glass that was already filled to the brim, but drops kept falling in, raising the water-level.
It was a highly uncomfortable feeling.
"If you say so." Phineas answers with a clearly forced casual tone and I pretend not to notice as he immediately starts scanning my body.
It feels… nice, being worried over. With the major things inside Othrys taken care off, I focus my attention outwards as I step into the elevator, calling for the sublevel housing my Hangar.
"Cho and Hall?"
"Both are on their way to Othrys. I offered the two of them to have someone portal them over, but they both declined. Hall doesn't seem to trust magic and Cho wanted some time with her family before she left. Hall is scheduled to arrive in two days, Cho in four."
I huffed in irritation. As someone who had gotten used to travelling across the entire world in mere minutes with nothing more than a flick of my wrist, I had become disconnected with how much time travelling still cost most ordinary humans. Their refusal of my portals was annoying since I wanted them here now and not in a couple of days, but it wasn't a major problem. There was still time before the Convergence and I had to wait for Sterns, Radcliffe and Selvig to finish their replacement engine first before I could make the necessary trip for the final Steps of my Omnipotence Program.
Putting the two scientists out of my mind for now, I turn my focus to my other forces outside of Othrys.
"Do we have word of the Hysminai's progress?"
"We located the Iliad cruising roughly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Two of the Hysminai are approaching as we speak. Since it's staffed by sorta-friendlies, Harper decided that this was the delicate, stealthy kind of spec ops and went with them. Make sure they don't go psycho and murderize every single living thing on board. They are expected to breach the Iliad within sixteen hours. We're unsure of how long it'll take them to reach the Monolith unseen, set the charges and then get the he-… get out of there ASAP. Should be fine though."
Ignoring Phineas' slight pause (due to having his drone army in the thick of the fighting during the entirety of Hell Week and possessing an impeccable memory, I'm not surprised the harrowing experience left its mark on my friend as well, like it has done on so many others), I continue my questioning, approaching the Hangar as I do.
"And the other thing?"
"The remaining Hysminai just put boots on the ground in Herefordshire. They should reach the facility there in a few hours. They have orders to kill everyone inside and then contact us. Harper figured that it was easier and faster if you just open a portal to them and grab all the loot instead of having them carry all the stuff back across the Atlantic Ocean."
"Hmm, agreed. Send me a notice when they reach the facility. I want to keep an eye on them, make sure they don't go overboard. Some of the other stuff there might be both useful and delicate."
"Sure thing!"
While I knew about most of Hydra's locations due to my meta-knowledge, I was a bit vague on the details, mostly regarding where the hell their various safehouses and goodies were actually located. As luck would have it though, I just so happen to have one of the major leaders sitting in my dungeons and with a woefully unprepared mind against the might of the Mind Stone. Everything that Whitehall knew about Hydra's various projects, I now knew as well and much of that I had passed on to Harper and my Hysminai.
I was originally going to give parts to Carter for her own war against the parasites inside her agency, but she was too slow and too focused on other threats (namely me) for my tastes, so I'd just clean house myself instead. Hit hard and fast, and I'll leave the scraps for Carter to clean up. With their safehouses gone, the remnants of Hydra wouldn't have anywhere to fall back on, having no other choice than to dig in even further into their cover identities than they already were, effectively trapping them.
That really only left Pierce and Malick as the remaining bigshots of Hydra. There were others with authority, but that was usually contained to the few people under their command: they didn't have the authority and power needed to gather Hydra's scattered forces into one cohesive unit. And Pierce was sticking close to Fury and Carter, likely because he felt the noose tightening around him. He wasn't going to do anything overt for the moment, likely relying on the Winter Soldier for targeted strikes at whoever threatened him and his position and I was already putting plans into place to take away his little toy. As for Malick, my Hysminai approaching the Iliad would make sure that his little scheme of returning Hive to Earth would be blown to pieces.
Literally.
While Whitehall's information had made such a fast response possible, I hardly needed him anymore now that things were falling into place and the Thompson's research on him (while certainly karmic justice) had been fine-tuned to the point that they hardly needed a live specimen to perfect it. While their research into granting people superpowers was fairly useless to me considering I had various easier ways of doing it that didn't require systematic torture of children, their research into the mind combined with Whitehall's brainwashing technology meant that every single person in Othrys' employ was now able to completely pump a prisoner dry of information with nothing more than a push of a button.
Time for Whitehall to fulfill his final purpose for me.
"Where are Jiaying and Calvin Zabo?"
"They're off to Afterlife for the weekend with their daughter. Skye promised to return Monday and is still carrying her micro-transponder, so if she isn't back by then, we'll know which place we'll need to unleash some orbital bombardment on until they give her back. If she's back Monday, I can guarantee Calvin will come back as well: he sticks to her like glue. Can't speak for Jiaying though. She might, she might not. She's one of the hardest people to read I've seen in a long time."
"She will once Skye gives her this message: I give her Whitehall in return for an alliance. If she wants to discuss it further and collect Whitehall, she can visit me here and we can talk it over."
"Sure thing, Michael."
With those words I reach the enormous entrance to my cavernous Hangar. Vehicles of every shape, size and purpose are parked all over the spacious floor or on various platforms. And off to the side, three scientists are crowded around a massive cylindrical shape, overflowing with wires leading to impromptu workstations filled with laptops, equipment and technological read-outs. Various holograms fill their little corner of the room, displaying both advanced physics formula concerning the very fabric of the space-time continuum, lines and lines of programming code and a whole host of various blueprints.
And overlooking the utter chaos stands a Transformer.
If it hadn't become clear to me due to his attitude and speech patterns during Hell Week, then I only needed to look at the form Oliver had taken to realize where he had taken his inspiration from. I was basically looking at a gunmetal grey, sleek high-tech version of Optimus Prime, with a deep electric blue glow coming from every seam in his artificial body, though it was strongest in the center of his chest.
He looked on with interest as the scientists kept on working below until he spotted me. As he did, the two glowing circles in his "face" widened and lit up, and he immediately straightened as he sprung to attention, his hand coming up in a sharp salute, a clear ringing noise of colliding metal filling the Hangar as his hand met his temple.
"Hello Hyperion, sir!"
I'm taken aback for a moment, feeling somewhat awkward as I give the fifteen foot tall mecha a small wave.
"… at ease?"
"Very well, sir!"
Sterns, Radcliffe and Selvig had looked up when they heard Oliver's salute, the three of them focusing on me as they are either still elbows deep into the cylindrical machine (Selvig), on their backs underneath one of the tables with fists full of wires (Radcliffe), or scrolling through six holographic screens simultaneously while also fiddling with something in their hands (Sterns).
"Hey Michael! Come to check our progress?" Sterns is the one to ask, his mechanical arms retreating back under the wide cloak he has taken to wearing since our outing to Sakaar as he approaches me with a grin.
"Yup. Since some of my later projects require the completion of this one first, I just wanted to check in. Phineas filled me in of course, but I just wanted to see it for myself. It's been a while since we talked and I wanted to see how Oliver was doing."
"I am doing very well sir! Thank you for asking!"
At the boomed words of the Transformer, I look up with a slight grin, addressing the sapient vehicle.
"Good to hear Oliver. I'm sorry for what Shuri managed to do to you. Darkhold-derived technology can be devastating, so I'm glad the Time Stone's effects were able to trump them, allowing Sterns to bring you back. That being said, are you sure about this? We'll probably have to shut you down during the procedure and the vast difference in hardware might cause… difficulties that will require some adjusting to." I ask gently, but my worries are waved away by the enormous robot as he takes a wide stance, steel fists planted firmly in metallic hips.
"Your worry is appreciated, but unnecessary, sir! Everything has been taken into consideration! Dr. Selvig will make sure my new power source mimics my current one as closely as possible, Dr. Radcliffe is carefully recording, analyzing and preserving my code and personality matrix so I can fall back on that if needed and my father is creating a data crystal that will house my consciousness during the procedure, in much the same way that Mr. Phineas' current bio-organic processor unit is preserved!"
I blink at the deluge of words boomed at me from several feet above me at quite a substantial volume, Oliver's enthusiasm and sheer size making for an… audible combination. Glancing from the corner of my eye at Sterns, I silently mouth 'father?' at him, but he just shrugs with a massive grin on his face.
Okay, if Sterns is cool with it, then I'll be cool with it as well.
"That's good to hear, Oliver. I know it can't be easy, going through with this. Without the Tesseract, you'll likely lose several abilities, such as your teleporting or the enhancement to your sword-"
"While this is true, it is of no consequence to me, sir! While I will be saddened to no longer be able to calculate and move along non-linear trajectories to cut down the enemies of Freedom and Liberty with the Blade Of Righteousness, I will still be able to teach those foes a lesson simply using my Fists Of Justice!" Oliver booms, clearly working himself up if the increased glow from his body is anything to go by.
'Oh wow. I actually heard the capital letters there.' I think to myself in amazement, staring up at the friendly mecha who has… taken a Super Sentai stance.
Clearly, Oliver is his father's son.
"Very well then, Oliver. On behalf of Othrys and myself, thanks. You're doing us a great service and I hope everything will go well." I say with a friendly smile, and Oliver's optics beam, not only with the light of an Infinity Stone, but sheer joy as well.
Giving him, Selvig and Radcliffe a nod, I tap Sterns on his shoulder and mention him to follow me. I walk back out of the Hangar, Sterns on my heels after he said his goodbye to his colleagues and mechanical offspring.
We walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, before I break it.
"Speaking of Darkhold-derived technology…"
I come to a halt, suddenly turning and grabbing Sterns by the shoulder as I lean in close, an urgent look on my face.
"Is it secret? Is it safe?"
We stand there for the briefest moment, before Sterns rolls his eyes with a chuckle, batting my hand away.
"Oh shut up, you Gandalf-wannabe."
"Gasp! Gasp I say! Of course I can pull of Gandalf! I'm literally wearing one of the most powerful magical artefacts in the world around my neck, right now!" I say with mock indignation as I fall into step besides him.
"I'm not saying that you can't be a powerful wizard. I'm just saying you can't be Gandalf specifically. Or Dumbledore. Or Elminster. And so on. There is this quintessential thing they all share, and that marks the truly great wizards from the merely good ones. Something that, sadly, you lack."
"What?! What is it? An air of mysticism? Shady origins that I don't reveal to my companions? Betting the fate on the world on those who's suitability for saving it is questionable at times? Indulging in odd habits? What is it?!"
At that, Sterns glances at me from the corner of his eye.
"Hair."
"… Touché."
Our laughter is joined by Phineas' disembodied voice, and when the silence returns, the air is filled with a sense of levity. Right until we've arrived at our destination, a small, unassuming room on one of the lower levels of Othrys. It simply looks like an ordinary storage room and there's nothing really in there other than some shelves and closets. It's just a normal, boring room of little significance, right until Sterns steps up close to the back wall, five of his mechanical arms shooting out and plunging in hidden sockets on various points in the smooth metallic surface. Simultaneously, he places his hand against a particular spot on the wall in front of him, while leaning slightly forwards for an ocular scan.
Three seconds, then there's a sudden (surprisingly cheerful) 'ping!' and the whole wall just… folds away, breaking into panels which slide in and over each other as they move towards the edges of the wall, leaving a sizeable hole in the middle, high and wide enough that I can pass through with ease. On the other side is a tiny barren concrete room, not much more than an alcove really, containing a single pedestal.
And on that pedestal, illuminated by a simple LED light in the unadorned ceiling, lies the Darkhold.
Given its subtle and insidious corrupting nature, I had made clear to my employees that this particular artefact was far too dangerous to study or handle. It would be kept in a secure lockbox in my Vaults and it would be safer for everyone if they just put it out of their minds entirely (some comparisons to Gollum and the One Ring and several extremely graphic descriptions of what Genghis Khan had done in service of the book had made sure everyone agreed with the precaution).
The reason why I didn't have it in my Vault, because there was a person in Othrys who had access to it, and if they were to be seduced by the Darkhold, then it could mean the end of Othrys and possibly the entire world.
Me.
It's why I had ordered Sterns to place the (literally) damned thing in a secure room that only he could access when he first presented the thing to me, taken off of Shuri's disintegrating corpse. I simply couldn't trust myself to not try and use it, so I had to hand it over to him for safekeeping. A good call, since even now, I could feel a hunger inside my chest, no, my very soul. Hunger for that tantalizing forbidden knowledge that I knew, with absolute certainty, was captured within those pages. The secrets of the universe, at my disposal. As was only right. After all, did I not already know more of this universe and its counterparts across the multiverse than any other being could know? Did I not tear knowledge of the history of the universe from Dormammu's clutches? Why not take these secrets? Just because some foolish, weak mortals fell to its temptations? I was no pathetic human! I was a Titan! Hyperion himself, born again! I wielded the Mind Stone, my power and my power were far greater than some simple book! It should be mine! It IS MINE! MINE, I OWN IT AND NOBODY-
"MICHAEL!"
Sterns urgent shout and a sudden burst of pain at the base of my neck snap me out thoughts that I hadn't even realized I was thinking. Blinking stars from my vision, I look away from the Darkhold, feeling… dirty as my eyes cannot help but linger for a moment. Turning my attention to Sterns, I take in his worried expression and the sparking 'hand' of one of his raised mechadendrites.
"You tazed me?" I ask slowly, my voice sounding as if it's coming from very far away.
"Seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Sterns shoots back in response, and I notice that he doesn't put the mechanical arm down.
As clarity slowly but steadily starts returning to my mind, I give him a measured nod.
"Yes. Yes, it was. Thank you Sam."
I stride out of the alcove, firmly putting my back to it, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"Close it." I order in a gruff voice and not a second later I hear the smooth mechanical whirring signifying the wall sliding back into place, once more hiding the alcove and the book away.
I hate the pang of loss that I feel when I hear the clicks as the final panels fall into place again.
Stupid book.
"It's like I thought. I had hoped things had changed with my newly acquired power, but it seems I was overconfident. Either I'm not yet fully enveloped by Light Dimension, or Light energy is less effective against Hell then it is against pure Dark Dimension energy, or I am simply too powerhungry. Whatever the case, I cannot be trusted with the damned thing." I say lowly, giving a deep sigh, before I turn towards Sterns with a serious expression.
"I'm putting my trust in you Sam. Don't ever allow me back here. Not even if I beg, not if I give you a million reasons why it's now safe, not even if I were to threaten you. That thing cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands and I can't trust myself with it. Just… lock the thing up and throw away the key."
"I understand Michael. I know how it feels. When I picked it up, it was only because of the security protocols I built into my mind that even alerted me to its corrupting nature. I threw it in my pocket dimension so it didn't have any further influence on me and I strengthened my subroutines significantly. All in all, I was only in contact with the thing for a few minutes, and I still want to study it. Imagine it, Michael. Imagine the things we could know. Imagine the things that we could do…"
Sterns trails off as he talks and when I turn to look at him, I can see a wistful expression on his face as he stares at the spot in the wall behind which the Darkhold lies. Carefully keeping my own gaze averted from the same spot, I sling my arm around him and march ourselves out of the storage room, slamming the door shut behind us with a little more force than necessary.
Standing in the hallway, we both notice we immediately start breathing somewhat more easily and we waste no time in moving away from the little room towards the elevators. We've been down here long enough, we could use some fresh air and I don't really feel like using magic at the moment.
As we're waiting for the elevator, Sterns softly speaks up.
"What the hell could have such an influence on people? Is the Hell Dimension really that powerful?"
"My guess? It's Mephisto's diary or something. Just like him to throw an artefact like that on Earth, just for shits and giggles and watch the carnage and despair unfold. He's a dick like that." I grunt, anger rising in me as I reflect on the weakness the Darkhold's lure had exposed within me.
I hated the feeling. Hated the Darkhold even more.
As the elevator arrives and we step inside, Sterns turns to look at me, his face determined.
"So, what are we gonna do about it? I still have the entanglement read-outs from when I destabilized the portal and the Hell-creatures already on Earth. Just say the word, and I'll rip open a portal to Hell so we can go there and I can collapse entire parts of their dimension and you can shove Mephisto's head up his own ass."
"Tempting. But perhaps not feasible right now. Within his own realm, Mephisto is in the same league as Dormammu and I only survived against him because of the way the Time Stone's powers can be exploited in his dimension. I'll have to think of a similar trick before I face Mephisto, or he'll disintegrate me before I can even challenge him."
"Pity. Though, while you're coming up with a plan to kick Mephisto's ass, what are we going to do with the Darkhold in the meantime?"
"What you usually do when you find someone's lost property of course. We're gonna send that diary back to its owner."
Watching the Hysminai at work was… odd. I couldn't help but respect the sheer efficiency, the smoothness with which they moved, their impeccable reaction and the sheer skill that was broadcasted with every step they took and with every move they made.
On the other hand, watching them swiftly beating someone to death with their own spine wasn't exactly for the faint of heart. Not that I was, but watching the brutal death over several dozen people because of my orders isn't something that leaves me unaffected, even if I don't show it. Thankfully, Whitehall's mind had confirmed that this was a Hydra-facility through and through, instead of something they had merely infiltrated.
So I could rest easy knowing that the guy who just had a supersoldier's fist shoved down his throat was a death cult neo-Nazi who definitely deserved a cruel and unusual death.
All in all, it took my three Hysminai less than half an hour to breach the Herefordshire facility, track down all its occupants and kill them all. As I was watching them, I saw… oddities that hinted at their previous lives and personalities while they were still elite soldiers for Hydra.
For instance, one of them kept trying to shove bodies in whatever closet, wardrobe or even cupboard was available with an almost mechanical determination, completely uncaring about whether the room available was sufficient to hold one dead Hydra agent and apparently unbothered by the legs, arms and legs that kept poking out.
The one where he tried (and even managed) to force a full-grown man in a drawer is something that I will be forced to carry with me until the end of my days.
Still, they got the job done quickly and effectively, and without damaging the facility itself too much. I quickly created a portal from one of my storage levels to the Hydra facility and ordered them to start ferrying the loot over as quickly as possible, making sure to phrase the instructions specifically enough that they'd only take what I wanted them to, aided by telepathically impressing my instructions in their altered minds.
I hardly needed them to start looting everything that wasn't nailed down and empty out the kitchen supplies or something.
As they started to work without even making a sound, I strode further into the base, my steps unerring towards my destination as I had Whitehall's memories to guide me. It took me only a few minutes before I arrived to a heavily reinforced, bolted door. The material it was made out of and the thick reinforced concrete doorpost it was set it told me this was meant to withstand even the most brazen assault.
I punched the thing clean off its hinges.
Ignoring the dust, I stride further into the room, trampling over the dented door without a care as my eyes immediately start scanning my surroundings. Almost immediately, I spot my prize. A structure of smooth black metal with a seam down the middle, about as tall as a man and wider at the base than at the top. It's connected to several control modules, but they should be relatively easy to disconnect and then transport, especially when one has access to Cross Technology.
Approaching it, I lay one enormous hand flat against its smooth surface, looking down on the foreboding looking machine, a smile playing around my lips.
"Why, hello there my little Particle Infusion Chamber. I've got some great news for you: you're going to help me become a God. Isn't that grand?"
May 10th, 12:10
After my return from Othrys and quick check up on the various projects my scientists had going on (even the regular ones, those that didn't deal with glorious SCIENCE!) my fortress had turned into a hive of activity, especially as many of them saw the footage that Phineas had uploaded of my last loop in the Dark Dimension, Captain Marvel's smear campaign, her and SHIELD's attempt at arresting me and the subsequent fight in Namibia.
Those little clips had gone viral almost instantly and already internet forums and talk shows were bursting at the seams as people fell over themselves trying to fling their opinion into the world. As expected there were people choosing my side, people choosing the government's side and people who were on the fence about it all. Philosophical debates about the structuring of society and the distribution of power were offset by people either ranting that they thought SHIELD was a dictatorship and people screaming I was obviously evil and intending world domination. What I hadn't considered was the reaction of those who were part of my religion (or Michaelites as Phineas kept on insistently calling them).
They were obviously very negative about how SHIELD tried to handle things, apparently with the full support of the Government, and they were especially vicious in attacking Carol. What I hadn't expected was why a large part of them were so worked up about it and what their suggested solution was.
They felt that SHIELD didn't have the authority to charge me with anything to begin with. They claimed that, since I was a God, I could hardly be tried by mortal law. That was created by humans, for humans, conforming the human knowledge about themselves, others and what they thought would best help a society thrive.
As a God, I stood above this. I was smarter than any mortal, clearly my actions were serving a higher, unknowable purpose completely outside of the scope of human understanding that had created laws in the first place. I didn't need to conform to societies' standards, since I didn't share the same flaws and weaknesses that formed much of the guidelines for creating and maintaining such a society.
It was… creepy. And somewhat unhelpful, since their comments were usually of the raving kind and almost always invited an immediate and vitriolic response from those who didn't trust or like me, leading to arguments all over the internet. Thankfully it hadn't boiled over into real life violence yet, but the potential was definitely there.
I couldn't really do much other than giving an official notice through Othrys' website and social media accounts, calling my followers to keep a cooler head and to please cease antagonizing others. Still, I knew that I could preach tolerance all I wanted, it wouldn't keep the zealots in the Church of the Sun (which is what the majority of them called themselves, which was only marginally better than what Phineas called them) from expressing their love for me.
Violently.
'Cause that's healthy (please do note the sarcasm there).
Overall though, the general perception towards me had shifted even further in my favor and, more importantly, it had definitely worsened for SHIELD and the Government. Fury was still going around trying to keep various agencies, senators and politicians to "back the fuck down before that crazy motherfucker wipes us all of the motherfucking face of the earth", so I'd give him some breathing room for now, but this was shaping up to be the perfect socio-political environment needed to deliver my outrageous demands.
In order to already being laying down the groundwork for those demands, I was at the UN once again. I'd been here since 8AM, moving from one meeting to the next, throwing my weight around. The discussions held in the big fancy rooms with the camera's and the press was the stuff that was shown to the public, but the true changes and power laid here, in the back room politics and deals sealed with handshakes instead of official documents. And as the most powerful man on the planet, my presence had a way of filling the room and my grip was unyielding.
All in all, some of the most productive five hours of my life, even if they were amongst the most boring as well. Though much had changed since I woke up swaddled in blankets on the steps of an orphanage in an entirely different universe, a few things had stayed the same.
Such as my utter loathing for politicians.
Some of them were alright, people genuinely just trying to do their job and do what they thought was right, maybe even help the world in their own little way.
But for the most part, I shook the hand of one sleazebag after the next, smiling charmingly at one shrew after the other, the hunger and greed clear to see even if I didn't have telepathy giving me an edge.
So, after five hours of this, I said 'fuck it!' and called it a day. I felt like my soul needed a shower and my mind needed to go bungie jumping in order to wake up again. Still, there was another reason why I chose today to start networking at the UN specifically. It was the main reason, actually, the networking itself merely a pretense for my presence here.
My real reason for coming here was currently defending herself against the full gathered assembly of UN representatives, distinctly out of place in her flowing pastel robes and bald head.
"No, Mister Jieyi. The Masters of the Mystic Arts are not terrorist organizations that have imbedded themselves in various nations for whatever malicious purpose you seem to think we're after. We also are not building a superpowered armor for similar purposes, nor do I agree with your rather blunt statement that the Masters of the Mystic Arts should submit themselves to the authority of Government officials. We have been independent and neutral for well over three thousand years. We will continue to remain independent until said otherwise by the Sorcerer Supreme, and no other."
The Ancient One's voice is cold and dry, slashing through the murmur of the large auditorium like a whip, her gaze stern and forbidding, daring the diplomats arrayed against her to challenge her. This isn't the first time she's been asked to appear before a committee of sorts (most notably the city councils of New York and London, as well as the ruling body of their respective countries), it's not even the first time that she's appeared before the UN. While magic was suspected to exist when I was shown using it in public during the One Day War, it was either thought to be just a manifestation of my power or something thinly spread and very primitive.
Hermits living on far off mountain tops, that sort of thing.
Humanity was hardly prepared for the realization that there was a dedicated force of wizards that had been protecting Earth from interdimensional horrors since even before Narmer first unified Upper and Lower Egypt and became the first Pharaoh of the First Dynasty. Isolated hermits and loopy druids were fine, people could deal with exceptions and outliers. But a worldwide spanning organization, with a rich history, defined hierarchy, powerful leadership and abilities that were extraordinary?
It was a good thing the Ancient One led the wizards into battle against the Demons and Mindless Ones or we might have been saddled with the hassle of a 21st century witch-hunt. As it was now, people were sort of split on them. On the one hand, they did help push back one of the most gruesome invasions Earth has seen this century (and considering as of last year, that includes an alien armada, that's saying something). On the other hand, a lot of people were blaming them for the invasion happening in the first place. The way they saw it, the Masters of the Mystic arts failed at the same job they've been doing for the past few thousand years. The Ancient One revealed that their purpose is to prevent interdimensional threats, yet two interdimensional threats had come to Earth, ergo, the Ancient One and her people had failed.
Of course, people's perceptions of the wizards was completely uprooted and flipped on its head when it came out that anyone can learn magic. People had just automatically assumed that, since magic is special, the people capable of performing it had to be as well. And for the most part, this was actually true. Strange and I were outliers, the greatest prodigies the Masters had seen in centuries (of course, once Strange actually goes and becomes a wizard, that is) and I cheated. For the majority of the population, anywhere between 60 and 80%, their magical skills would barely extend beyond being capable of casting a proper shield or spear, if even that.
It simply took too much dedication and focus to be readily available to people, but it wasn't a question of blood. For those who did have the required mental fortitude to throw themselves into the brutal grind that was learning magic… well, the world just became their oyster.
As that realization shook the world, people flooded the Sanctums by the hundreds, thousands even. It was the biggest influx of new students since… well, since there even were Sanctums, really. And considering the losses her people had suffered, and the Ancient One's own philosophy of never turning away those in pain and need (her initial reluctance of accepting Strange a rather unique case after all), the vast majority of them were accepted.
She only rejected those who she felt would do harm with magic, either to themselves or others, or those that came with the wrong intentions (such as greed or hate), or those that she felt required the kind of healing that her Sanctums couldn't provide, or simply those that absolutely no aptitude for the Mystical Arts at all.
Still, even with these strict requirements, hundreds of new students woke up in the days following Hell Week in pastel colored robes, taking a wide stance and milling their hands in the air as they tried to create runic arrays.
Naturally, the world governments wanted in on the deal as well. They saw the Sanctums and wanted them either robbed completely empty, or under their control. They saw the wizards and either wanted to create more of them, or place the existing ones under their control. They considered the potential of magically enhanced soldiers and many general the world over nearly creamed their pants at the prospect of spell-slinging troops.
Naturally, the Ancient One didn't approve of any of that, and she had absolutely no trouble telling them that. Every politician, every committee, every journalist received the same answer: "We are independent and we are neutral. And we will continue to remain so until the Sorcerer Supreme says otherwise."
Of course, this had only intrigued people more, and the Ancient One remained stuck trying to defend her people and their independence from one meeting to the next, barely getting any sleep in.
Time to give her a break.
"Sorcerer Supreme!"
My voice thunders through the large room, immediately silencing everyone present. My entrance is sudden and loud enough that several of the more easily frightened diplomats nearly leap out of their seats, but the Ancient One merely inclines her head towards me, a tiny smile visible on her face.
She's not at all surprised to see me, and when I brush against her mind I realize it's because she felt my energy approaching from a mile away.
Damn, have to work on that, I'm leaking power like a faucet.
"Hyperion." She acknowledges dryly, her voice cool and collected.
"Would you walk with me, please? There is something I feel you and I need to discuss. It is of great importance." I intone, projecting my voice and making sure to pitch it deep and serious.
The Ancient One's little smile widens just slightly at my little bit of theater, and widens even further when she sees that it's effective against a surprisingly large part of the people present.
"Of course. Matters of great importance always have my full attention." She replies, folding her hands behind her back as she simply walks away from the microphone stand without even looking back or a 'by your leave'.
Still, not all of the diplomats here get the hint.
"Now just hang on a minute! You can't just barge in here and interrupt this session! She's yet to answer all of our questions, we don't even know her name, let alone…"
The silver haired, middle aged man (the Permanent Representative of the United Kingdom to the United Nations apparently, as my little HUD reveals) slowly trails off and sinks back down in his seat when my eyes lock with his. My expression is severe and my tone completely flat as I answer him.
"Matters of great importance, Sir Grant. First, you should ask yourself what these could possibly be, especially when they are discussed by Hyperion and the Ancient One. Apparently important enough even, that the former is willing to halt this session and retrieve the latter. Quite important indeed then. Secondly, you should ask yourself whether these matters of great importance between these two distinguished and extremely powerful figures is something you wish to interrupt. Well, Mr. Grant? Do you?"
Silence stifles the room as the diplomat shrinks deeper into his seat with every word, giving me a furtive shake of his head at my last question.
"Good." I merely reply, and to add insult to injury, I create a massive portal right then and there, far larger than necessary (it's big enough to let two elephants pass through side by side) and I intentionally create it low to the ground, the bottom edge of the portal just ever so slightly gouging the carpeted floor.
Turning towards the tiny woman at my side, I give a slight bow as I extend my hand.
"After you, oh Ancient One."
"Why thank you, oh Hyperion." The bald wizard replies dryly, and steps through to the other side, arriving in what appears to be the Siberian taiga.
I follow immediately after her, walking alongside her on the pebbled bank of a small burbling river which cuts through the tree dotted rolling hills of our idyllic surroundings. We walk in silence for a moment as I intentionally let the portal stay open, long enough so that I can feel people slowly gathering on the other side of it, looking both in amazement and suspicion. I wait right until someone slowly extends their hands towards it, before I slam it shut with a sudden snap, timing it just right so nobody loses any limbs or other assorted bodyparts.
With the portal gone, silence returns to this little piece of wilderness, and for a moment, the two of us are content to simply walk in peace, a welcome reprieve of the madness that has hounded our steps since Hell Week has ended. Of course, I came to her for a reason and we know this little moment of peace and quiet cannot last, so with a small sigh, the Ancient One comes to a halt, turning to gaze up at me.
"Why are we out here Michael?" she asks, though she doesn't sound suspicious or afraid, merely curious.
"Well, for a variety of reasons I suppose. There's a lot to discuss going forwards. How to deal with the current fall-out of Hell Week, obviously. There are also matters that I wish to discuss with you regarding the future. What to do when Jessica returns, for instance, and even further down the line, when the Convergence occurs and even beyond then. I will require a lot magical expertise in the foreseeable future, and considering what's at stake, only the best of the best will do. But honestly? One of the main reasons why we're here is because… I'm confused."
"To be confused is no evil or terrible thing, Michael. All of us get confused about something at some point in our lives after all. What is it that troubles you?"
"You do."
At my blunt tone, the Ancient One blinks in surprise, before I elaborate, undoing the top few buttons of my dress shirt, revealing what is underneath.
"Or rather, your actions regarding this." I say, lightly tapping the smooth metal plates of the Eye of Agamotto.
"When you first approached me in Othrys, you told me you'd never give this to me, since it was one of the most treasured artifacts of your order. Even when New York was being overrun by demons, you hesitated to hand it over, even if you already knew that it was the only way to put a stop to the Invasion. That was five days ago and you haven't claimed it back yet. You haven't even sent me a message, or anything at all. Why?"
It may sound weird that I was asking someone why they weren't taking away one of my major power boosts, but that was precisely the point. The Time Stone had the potential to be the most powerful weapon in my arsenal, and I didn't understand (and therefore didn't trust) the Ancient One's actions regarding it. The last thing I needed was her blindsiding me and retrieving the ridiculously powerful artifact while I was still wracking my mind trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
For a moment, the Ancient One tilts her head as a little smile tugs at her lips, her hands still clasped nonchalantly behind her back.
"I'm surprised you haven't come to the correct conclusion yourself already. You are intelligent and you clearly remember our first conversation, so that should be sufficient to unravel the great and obfuscating mysteries surrounding my actions." The Ancient One says with a laugh, which just causes me to scowl.
"Michael. Think back to what I said. Analyze not just the words themselves, but the meaning and intent behind them as well. I told you: 'the Sanctums will not allow you to wield the Eye of Agamotto, as it is only to be wielded by the Sorcerer Supremes'. Clearly, I have allowed you to wield and thereafter keep the Eye of Agamotto. Therefore…" the Ancient One trails off with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as she's clearly enjoying the shock that's on my face as the meaning of her words starts to truly register with me.
"Congratulations Hyperion of the East River, Lord of Light, Titan of Flame, 42nd Sorcerer Supreme of Earth. May you lead us well."
…
…
…
"WHAT?!"
Fun Fact: After more than ten years and well over twenty movies, the MCU is perhaps the most expansive fictional universe ever put to screen. Much of it has explored, even if it doesn't always make it into the movies, such as their own in-universe media. Marvel intermittently uploads videos to YouTube from WHIH Newsfront, a fictional news show set within the MCU. The segments star Leslie Bibb as Christine Everhart, the reporter who slept with Tony Stark in the first Iron Man film, and they cover all manner of MCU news—from coverage of the New York Incident to interviews with Scott Lang.
AN: Sorry it took so long, this chapter did not want to be written. I struggled with where to take the story in a way that believable (and neatly) ties off the last loose string left on Earth before I can have Michael try and finish the last of his Twelve (ha! Hahahaha!) Steps, but stuff just either didn't fit or kept getting in the way. Then there's the entire bit with the Darkhold that came out of nowhere, but I suddenly realized that I had to do something with it: I can hardly have it just laying around after Shuri dies. Briefly it tried to develop into its own subplot when Michael turned away from the door and ordered Sterns to shut it. It wanted Sterns to have already been corrupted from his initial exposure, so he instead quickly puts the book underneath his robe and then closes it, lying about it to Michael. Then there'd be a descent into darkness for him, until eventually he betrays Othrys and Michael has this super emotional and badass confrontation with his oldest friend who might be able to be redeemed. Then I realized I did not have the time or energy left to explore such an arc right before the story is about to wrap up and I ruthlessly squashed that little plot bunny like a bug. So yeah, eventually instead of writing a chapter in which all those little arcs and loose threads come to their conclusion, I instead ended up writing a chapter that lays to foundation for all that in the next chapter. It's better this way I feel, but I understand if people feel it was boring. The next chapter will be somewhat boring as well, since it will just be Michael going around and getting people do to what he needs them to do, though there's also a bit of drama involved there, which I've hinted at in this chapter. Anyway, that's enough out of me for now, my fingers hurt and I'm hungry. I hoped you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you all in a couple of weeks. Cheers!
As always, a huge thanks to my Patrons, I truly do appreciate and love you all! IronmanMarkIV, Shaman95, justlovereadin, Daniel Dorfman, DoctorTortoise, DavidJP, CJ Elsen, Sam, Carn Krauss, ReaperScythe, Thordur hrafn, RC Oprea, Yan R Bernier, CrankyD, Devon, Kyle Reese, Kahn, RLStrained, Vu, Roman Krupkin! Thanks again for your support!