May 5th, 2013, 14:00
About an hour after Michael returned from the Dark Dimension
Down-town Manhattan
I watched as Stark took off in his newly restored Iron Man suit. It had been good to just… sit for a moment. To have a breather after the insanity that was the past week (for him, for me it had been an insane few subjective centuries). But of course, it couldn't last, and with a tired expression that had nothing to do with the physical state of his body (which was seven days younger than it ought to be after all), he bade me goodbye and hopped back into his armor, blasting back towards Avengers tower for debriefing and damage control. We both knew that, while the crisis had been averted, shit had yet to stop hitting the fan. Just like with the One Day War, this Invasion would have massive consequences in the way that humanity looked at its own place in the universe.
And in the grander scheme of things as a whole, considering actual dimensions of Evil had been involved this time.
I gave a deep sigh as I leaned against the low balustrade of the building, looking out over the city that showed no visible sign of having been ground-zero for an extra-terrestrial Invasion the likes of which hadn't been seen since Odin had kicked the Frost Giants back to Jotunheim.
Considering the hell I had been through for a literally unknowable amount of "time", I quietly agreed myself that I had earned just a little more rest, just a little time to decompress and find my footing again, before I tackled whatever fallout would result from this latest crisis.
The moment that I had thought of that and prepared to take off back to my luxurious room (and hot-tub back) in Othrys, a wizarding portal shimmered into existence a few feet to my left, allowing a harried looking Sterns and Ancient One to step through.
It was rather odd to see the state they were in, to be honest: the last time I saw them, Sterns had been in a banged-up suit of armor and covered in demonic blood and the Ancient One had lost part of the skin on her face and the use of one of her arms.
Now they stood in front of me without so much as a scratch on them.
"Michael! You really need to see this!"
"Hey you two. Listen, I get that… whatever it is, it's pretty important and stuff, but I'm exhausted and I just really want to go and take a nap. For a few hours, at least. So if we can revisit this tomorrow-" I say with a small smile as I prepare to turn away from them, but Sterns' next words halt me in my tracks.
"It's about Jessica's pregnancy!"
Slowly, I turn back to face them again, and I take in their serious expressions. They're thrown for a loop I realize with a start. Considering this is Sterns, literally the smartest human alive, and the Ancient One, centuries old master of a hidden sect of wizards tasked with protecting the world… that's worrying.
"What is it." I bite out immediately, stepping closer towards them as my Extremis lights up reflexively.
"Okay, listen, this took some work, considering you reset my suit and all its databanks, so I lost most of the data I collected on her during my scans, but The Ancient One explained what you had done and I managed to reconstruct most of it from memory, meaning that there still was some data-loss, which I rectified using-"
"Sam."
The egghead stops his rambling, looking up at me with wide eyes, before taking a thin slate from a compartment in his armor. Tapping its side twice and gesturing with his hand, a set of holographic screens pops up between us, which he quickly navigates, before settling on a picture which he enlarges until it's about the same size as my torso.
It's showing a glowing… something. It appears to be roughly circular and made of twisting layers of light and force. It's difficult to really tell, considering that it's surrounded on all sides by thick, darkly colored flames.
As suspicion coils in my gut, I glance up at the two of them, wordlessly looking for confirmation. It's the Ancient One who responds with a slight nod.
"A picture of Jessica's belly when she was in Ghost Rider form. Within her body of Hellfire, there was an orb of pure power, a barrier, stronger than anything I've ever seen. Protecting what's within."
"My child…" I softly whisper, as I look back at the golden orb in the holographic screen again.
I felt lightheaded the longer I looked at it, and I belatedly realized that I had forgotten to keep breathing. Some small part of me took in my reaction and blithely wondered if this is how normal parents react when they see the echoes of their babies for the first time during the ultrasound.
"Not… exactly…" Sterns interrupts my musings, and I look up at him in confusion and with a slight hint of worry.
Seeing it, my friend is quick to reassure me.
"Look, as far as we can tell, whatever that barrier is made out of, it protected what's inside from the Hellfire surrounding it. We're pretty sure of it. Sort of like those extra-dimensional pockets that I've been experimenting with, you know: what's inside is wholly untouchable by what's on the outside… It's just that… uhm, we can't really tell what's on the inside…"
"WHAT!"
"Calm yourself, Hyperion. Your friend here stated it somewhat unfortunately, but I do not believe there is cause for worry. I too failed to look through the barrier, but I did manage to feel the energies that were swirling inside. Your children shall be healthy, of that I'm certain."
"Oh thank G-" my sigh of relief sticks in my throat and I swallow my words as I look at the Ancient One with wide eyes.
"Children?"
"I cannot tell you how it happened, but this is what my spells revealed to me: three distinct signatures. One fully of the Light, one fully of the Dark, and one that sits in-between, bringing balance and harmony to the two. I cannot tell you with certainty how they were formed from the child that Jessica had been carrying until now. Either dark energies already existed within it, or they were introduced with the possession by the Spirit of Vengeance, but in both cases, they appear to have split off, becoming its own entity with a third one forming from both their energies. Perhaps the original child was broken up to form these three. Perhaps something else entirely. We may never know." The Ancient One tries to explain calmly, but her tone doesn't change the message and I still feel a hammering in my ears which I only belatedly realize is the drumming of my heart.
Feeling lightheaded, I sink down against the low wall, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, as I chew through what the Ancient One just revealed to me. I can hear a faint buzzing as both the wizard and the scientist keep talking to me, but I can barely pay attention to it as I keep going over the Ancient One's words.
"We don't know what the barrier is made of, but it seems to have formed a shell that even Hellfire couldn't burn away. We're not sure if this originated from the children or from some hidden instinct on Jessica's part-"
They're visibly caught off guard when I suddenly speak up.
"What shall become must always have been." I quote, and I can see the Ancient One frown in recognition of the words.
"I'm sorry what?" Sterns asks with a raised eyebrow.
"It's… it's a riddle that Dormammu told me. I managed to get him to talk about… a lot of things. He told me this riddle when I asked him about my future with Jessica and the future of our child." I explain.
The Ancient One's frown deepens as she goes over my words.
"I'm not certain about the true meaning of the riddle. Knowing it came from Dormammu, there might not even be one, or one that is purposefully misleading. But it seems to imply that the mere existence of your children in the future was powerful enough to reach back through Time itself to guarantee their own survival." She says slowly.
I nod, having entertained the thought during my stint of isolation within the Dark Dimension (I entertained a lot of crazy thoughts back then), but Sterns is taken by surprise at her words.
"How is that even possible?" the scientist asks, no doubt trying to work out just how something like that would mess with the flow of Time.
"It shouldn't be. Not for me. Not even for someone as Hyperion. Not as he is now."
Hearing the emphasis she placed on that word, I look up to lock eyes with her, and I can see how she gives a significant look at the Infinity Stones resting in my helmet, shield and at my throat.
Thinking it over, I come to another realization.
"Helios. Selene. Eos. The Sun, the Moon and the Dawn. The three children of Hyperion and Theia." I softly say, before glancing up at the Ancient One, who nods back with a grave expression on her face.
"With each day that passes, you take up his mantle more and more. Now, after your victory over Dormammu, more than ever. You are coming into your own as the Lord of Light. Clearly, even the people surrounding you are starting to reflect that."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You came to that conclusion rather fast. I feel that this is not as much of a surprise to you as I imagined that it would be. What more did you see within the Dark Dimension? What other secrets did he reveal to you?"
I let out a shaky laugh as I work myself back to my feet, a waterfall of errant thoughts roiling through my mind.
"Believe me, I'm surprised. I'm very surprised. But with what Dormammu revealed about the first Hyperion… about the nature of the conflict between Light and Dark Dimensions, about the history of the universe… No, I am surprised. But I can now also see the strings that are being pulled. The threads of fate that I'm following back to their end. This… this makes sense."
The Ancient One lifts a pale eyebrow, but doesn't push further. Sterns quickly looks between us with a slight frown, before he shakes it off.
"Look, mantles of power, threads of destiny, this all sounds very important, real Lord of the Rings levels of drama here, but can we focus back on what's important here? Michael, you're going to have triplets! Are you ready for that? Hell, is Jess ready for that?! She's the one that's going to have to pop out all three of them you know?"
I can feel the Extremis leave my face as I blanch in horror.
"Oh no. She's going to kill me when she comes back." I say lowly, though my worries are waved away by the Ancient One.
"Don't be so dramatic. It will come as a shock to her, that's for sure, but it's hardly something she'll kill you over."
A wicked little smile pulls at her lips as she tilts her head.
"Now, emasculation, that's something that's definitely still on the table…"
I let out a groan as I pinch the bridge of my nose, while Sterns and the Ancient One share a good chuckle at my expense. Still, I'm thankful that the Ancient One broke the tension, allowing me a clearer head. Stark hadn't been wrong: I had changed, the revelations that I had manage to extract out of Dormammu leaving their mark on me.
It was good to know that I could still be brought back down to Earth to laugh alongside those I considered friends.
It made me feel… more human again, something that I welcomed after the lonely cold of the Dark Dimension. Ironic, considering how desperately I had tried to shed my humanity in my quest for omnipotence.
Giving a deep sigh, I glance up at the midday sun as I consider my next words.
"This… this gives me a lot to think about. But for now, our immediate actions will remain unchanged. The world has been turning into a powder keg ever since the One Day War last year. The changes that Othrys has been making have done a lot to defuse those tensions over the past year, but now all those old fears will return with a vengeance. Given the nature of the attack, appearing without warning or an identifiable leader to react against, humanity will start turning on itself. Paranoia will run rampant. Massive amounts of people will suffer existential crises. Governments the world over will scramble to keep up in this new phase of what they see as just yet another form of Arms Race and might, no, will end up doing something stupid. People will look towards Othrys, towards me, with both gratitude and fear. Some even with greed. We all will need to be on our toes for the foreseeable future if we want to avoid catastrophic confrontations."
Sterns nods, before looking at me from the corner of his eyes.
"That sounds… surprisingly mature. You've changed." He observes, drawing a raised eyebrow from me.
"Oh? Are you saying that I was immature before?"
"No, not immature per se, but more… headstrong and determined. Always knowing what you wanted and what to do to get it, but not always as aware of possible consequences from doing so." He muses.
"Just how long did you spend in there anyways?"
"You're the second person to ask me that. I reckon you won't be the last. Suffice to say, it was a long time. Far, far longer than the time that passed on Earth. It's no use asking me how long exactly: time doesn't really 'flow' there as we understand it and even if it did, I placed Dormammu and I in a time-loop until he couldn't take it anymore."
That comment gains me two gaping expressions, though for different reasons. The Ancient One appears shocked that my will outlasted that of Dormammu, given that she knows more than (almost) anyone just how powerful he is. Sterns is shocked because… well…
"You pulled off a Groundhog Day?! That's so cool!" the scientist shouts with an enthusiastic smile, before his expression changes to one of slight distress as the implications of it all start to sink in.
"Wait. Time doesn't flow there… so the ending of the day can't have been your reset-trigger, since days don't 'end' in there… meaning that your reset-trigger most likely was…" he trails off as his eyes go wide, and I merely give him a small smile.
"My death, yes."
For a moment, silence settles over the rooftop, before my friend speaks up in a low voice.
"How… how often… did you… you know…"
In response, I activate one of the projectors in my armor, and from a small compartment in my chest a holographic screen is projected. It shows a row of mountains made out of the corpses of my enemies, the blood and pus streaming from their broken bodies running down and forming a shallow lake of caustic sludge between where I'm standing and those I'm facing. On the other 'bank' stands the humanoid form of Dormammu, and shifting behind him, like a rising tide of nightmare and horror made flesh, is a significant part of his army.
The humanoid Dormammu takes somewhat after how he appears in the comics, but his armor is colored the same inverted void as his Mindless Ones and instead of having a flaming head, it's the LSD-fueled shifting one that used to fill up the sky, just scaled down.
And clearly visible on the rippling brow of said shifting head, there's a thin row of slightly discolored marks.
After he came to bargain with me, I had engaged in a duel to the death with him so that I could reset and restore myself back to my prime, without the accumulated wear and tear that came from spending decades living in (and off) the corpse garden that had formed around my respawn point. Since resetting wiped all the stored footage until that point, we had hammered out an agreement (though 'agreement' is something of a strong word, considering how much Dormammu was seething with sheer rage) in which he would gather a suitably impressive army in front of me and clearly state that he conceded this battle to me, and that he would leave Earth, after which I would finally extricate myself from his dimension.
I suspect it will become a sensation overnight once I upload the (somewhat staged) footage to the internet.
"Every single one of those 'scars' is where my scythe hit him during one of my lives." I explain, and both Sterns' and the Ancient One's eyes widen.
"There must be dozens!" a baffled Sterns exclaims.
"You used the face of Dormammu, Lord of Evil and Ruler of the Dark Dimension, as a scoring board?" a stunned Ancient One asks.
"Yes. To both of those. But these marks only show the lives in which I actually managed to hit him. I lost track of the amount of times that he managed to kill me before I could hit him at all. It got rather annoying after a while, because now my scoring method to keep track of my deaths had become completely useless." I explain in an intentionally nonchalant tone, inwardly pleased when I take in their shocked expressions.
"Michael… are you alright?" Sterns' sincere concern cuts right through my attempts at levity (mostly to keep my mind off the bombshell about my children) and I drop all pretense as I look him in the eye and clasp his shoulder.
"I wasn't. Not for a long time, as much as that is applicable to what I went through. I managed to get better on my own, but I wasn't alright yet. More like a broken bone that had grown back slightly off. But here… I'm already feeling better Sterns. And I'll continue to feel better, bit by bit, day by day. Until someday, you'll ask me if I'm alright, and I can truly answer 'yes, I am.' So, stop worrying so much, alright?" I say with a soft smile, and Sterns chuckles in response.
"You're sorta asking me to do the impossible here, you know. Especially because you keep coming up with new and inventive ways to keep me in a perpetually worried state. A certain miracle metal in a certain conversation concerning a certain someone's skeleton comes to mind…" he says with a smirk, getting a deep laugh from me.
"I know Sterns. Thank you. I'll be doing a lot better with my best friend at my side. Especially if I have to prepare for raising three kids instead of one. Which hopefully will go a lot better with you there. After all, those kids could really use a Godfather." I say with a smile, which widens when I see his slack-jawed expression.
"Really… me? I get to be their Godfather?" Sterns asks softly, his eyes filled with wonder as a massive grin starts to show on his face.
"Yes, you. Jess and I talked a bit about who we wanted as Godfather and Godmother before you and I left for Outer Space. You're my best friend. Who else was I gonna ask?" I say with a smile, Sterns responding in kind.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say, before he rushes forwards and hugs me tightly. He takes me by surprise (I almost knee him in the face out of reflex), but I quickly relax and embrace him as well, clapping him on the back a few times.
When he steps away from me, his eyes are watery, but his grin is still firmly in place.
"Those kids are gonna have the greatest Godfather ever! I'm sorry, but I'm gonna do my very best to spoil 'em rotten." He says with a smile, getting a chuckle from me.
"Fine, fine. As long as you don't give them railguns before they're twelve, I'm alright with it."
We share a chuckle, before I look towards the Ancient One. She seems pensive, but looks up at me when she feels my eyes on her.
"I won't pretend that I approve of what you did with Jessica and the Spirit of Vengeance. But I also won't deny that without this Amulet, I wouldn't have been able to fight of Dormammu as I have. So, considering I'll need an expert on the mystical forces of the multiverse to fully take care of my kids, I have found a way for you to pay me back: how do you feel about being a Fairy Godmother?"
The Ancient One's expression briefly turns bemused, the corners of her thin lips twitching upwards, before her eyes flick from the Amulet to my face and back again. For a long moment she seems to contemplate something, before a worrying gleam of amusement enters her eyes.
"Very well. I shall be the Fairy Godmother to Helios, Selene and Eos. As for spoiling them rotten… I make no promises."
Relieved that the Ancient One didn't decide to fight me for possession of the Eye of Agamotto (for now, at least) I chuckle as I lean back against the low balustrade, going over these most recent revelations in my mind.
The fate of my child (or rather, children) would undoubtedly have far-reaching consequences down the line, but for now I simply had to be content with the fact that they appeared to be strong and healthy. I would have to worry about them at a later time. For the coming weeks, I would need my full attention to make sure humanity kept moving forwards, instead of being caught up in their fear, leading to stagnation (or worse) should they give into it.
'The future is looking rather… busy.' I mused as I looked back up at the sun and allowed its golden rays to sink into my skin.
May 6th, 2013, 7:25
One day after Hell Week
Down-town Manhattan
I floated high above the city in silence, as I contemplated the events of yesterday. Between my harrowing experience in the Dark Dimension, my emotional argument with the Ghost Rider/Jessica when I came back and the sheer magnitude of the spell I had performed to repair New York City and I had been dead on my feet
Throw the revelations about my children on top of that and I think I could be forgiven for wanting to hide away from the world for just a little bit.
After giving a general statement to the press (if you could call four wide-eyed, foolishly brave reporters 'the press' that is) and dumping the data logs of my armor on Phineas, I had gone to bed, trying to get some sleep.
At first, it didn't come to me, no matter how exhausted I was.
It wasn't just the whirlwind of thoughts rampaging through my mind that caused my insomnia. My eyes kept flashing towards the shadowed corners of the room, my entire body tensed when I thought I heard the sound of skittering legs and whenever I tried to close my eyes for any length of time, I just kept getting more and more distressed, feeling as if fangs and teeth and laser-beams were just moments away from punching through my skin.
After I had slammed Harpe through my bedroom floor because I spotted a little spider, I had had enough and used my psychokinetic powers to put myself in a dreamless sleep.
Self-hypnosis, just taken a step further than usual.
It meant that, instead of sleeping three ours like I normally did, I had been out cold for nearly ten. When I had woken up with a scream, Sterns and Harper had barreled into my room only seconds after, worry clear on their faces (well, Sterns at least. Harper's eyes were just a little wider than usual and his lips were pressed thin together).
After assuring them that I was (somewhat) fine, they quickly briefed me on the situation outside which was… not as bad as I had feared.
Society hadn't collapsed, no new enemy had popped up to take advantage of the general confusion and fear while Earth's defenders were still reeling and the sky hadn't come falling down.
Still, with Phineas being hooked into several of SHIELD's and various world Government's systems, (not to mention everything that Jane Foster relayed back to Othrys) I knew that trouble might not be far away. The way that the US Government was leaning on the Avengers to lean on me in turn was both worrying and suspicious. I suspected someone pulling strings behind the scenes to form some sort of confrontation, and considering the universe I was in, I had a fairly good idea about who that someone (or someones) could be.
And things would probably only get worse once other Governments, the UN and the overseers of the PDF started chipping in as well. Defusing the situation was possible, but time-consuming and it was likely to require concessions that I simply didn't want to make.
I had already given various military branches significant amounts of futuristic tech, more than they would've had in the canon timeline, especially concerning the formation of the PDF, which was mostly made with reverse engineered Chitauri tech and whatever prototypes the Governments involved were willing to share, all facilitated and made actually usable by the know-how from Othrys.
Of course, no-one else on the planet had any idea about what the canon-timeline was supposed to even look like (with the exception of the Ancient One, but she had by now given up her boost to her precognitive powers), so that knowledge didn't really help me here.
All that humanity saw now was that truly staggering levels of (fire)power were focused within a single organization (or rather one person) who wasn't willing to share more than what to them would've looked like breadcrumbs, not knowing how their alternate counterparts on an Earth without me were far worse off than they were.
A problem for another day, I had decided, simply instructing my trusted employees to keep working to maintain the current status quo. As long as the authorities didn't try to push me, I wouldn't escalate.
A far more delicate situation were my… well, there's no real other word for it, I suppose.
My worshippers.
I had been anxious when I had first revealed myself to the world after collecting Burstein and settling in New York, but I had also ended up liking the fame that it had brought with it. (Almost) all humans love being the center of attention after all. Have dreams of adoring fans and red-carpet walks.
But this. This wasn't merely fame. These weren't merely fans.
They considered me their God.
True, with varying levels of fanaticism, from just general relief at my existence to unsettling zealousness to serve me, but still… I hadn't planned for this to happen.
Not yet at least.
When I had finished my Twelve Step Program, when I had truly achieved Omnipotence, then yes, I would've become the God-Emperor of Mankind. It was either that or fuck off to some asteroid floating in space pondering deep philosophical questions about life, death and everything in between.
But right now? I wasn't ready yet. Not that the idea wasn't appealing, but setting up a religion was not what I expected I would be faced with when I returned to Earth. There was still research to be done. Still scientists to gather, technology to invent or reverse engineer, genetic powers to be unlocked.
I still needed to become… more.
For fucks sakes, I hadn't even wanted to become the CEO of the company that I set up in the first place and these people just think that they can plop a religious cult in my lap?! But of course, they weren't going to wait for me until I was good and ready for them. Humanity had collectively gone through yet another one of the most massive paradigm-shifts in history in the span of only two years. Entire worldviews had been shattered, slowly been built back up from scratch, only to be wholly shattered again. They wanted a beacon of hope, something to latch onto and remove this gnawing existential dread from their very souls and I would just have to do.
Which meant that I had to act, as soon as possible. I had to say, had to do something. Even if it was only a single command, like "just don't try to be an asshole and you're good". Anything at all would do, because if I did nothing, then chaos was sure to follow.
But how to go about it?
Giving a deep sigh, I briefly considered that maybe going to Thor to ask for his advice/experience wasn't such a bad idea. Merely running away from Othrys and its avalanche of urgent matters that were threatening to crash over me while I was still trying to recover from my stint in the Dark Dimension wasn't doing any good to anyone.
I start flying lower, until the sky scrapers of New York start rising up beside me, my HUD rapidly scanning the roads underneath me, showing me the rivers of people that are moving back into their city and their homes.
The sheer magnitude of people out on the streets means that it's pure chaos, despite the best efforts of the Army and what little was left of the police (given that they had been the first line of defense when Shuri opened the gate to Hell, their numbers had taken a catastrophic hit). Still, my HUD easily picks out individual faces, running them through my recognition software, searching for my target.
As I did, my HUD also pointed out those in the Military who had been enhanced during Hell Week in some way from the military and SHIELD's own hidden stashes of prototypes. With many of them, those upgrades had been erased when I had de-aged their bodies (such as the three that had been enhanced with the little bit of Supersoldier Serum that remained in the Army's possession after Ross had wasted most their stash on Blonksy), which is probably where part of the military's sudden animosity towards me stemmed from: just a single augmented soldier had been worth tens of millions of dollars.
To throw every last scrap of technology that you had at an enemy, only to be saved by someone else who then simply erases most of that technology was understandably galling.
Understandable, but no less annoying.
Now, the only reason I even knew who had been enhanced was because Phineas had flagged them with his legion of drones during Hell Week. Some of the enhanced soldiers were easier to identify than others though, mostly those that had been cybernetically augmented with artificial organs and limbs.
Those were the ones that were sitting with thousand-yard stares as they looked at their own body as if they didn't really recognize it, often close to a crate in which a futuristic limb was resting.
One memorable guy was a young soldier sitting on his bunk with a mechanical heart in one hand and softly rubbing his chest with the other, the look in his eyes showing that his mind was somewhere very far away.
Pouring on a bit more speed, I rocket down the streets, making twists and turns in search of my actual target.
I had needed an excuse to get out of Othrys and from underneath Hogarth's and Sterns' scheming (we all knew that I would just end up approving their strategies for better PR and public opinion anyways), and while this matter would usually have been beneath my notice, my target's identity gave me a credible reason to track them down personally.
After less than fifteen minutes of cruising above New York's clogged streets, I found her. She was in one of the military defense posts that were being disarmed, but not wholly dismantled until the presence of soldiers was no longer required to keep the peace. Despite being a lithe woman who just barely reached my sternum, she was hauling a crate that was probably twice her weight with an unnatural ease.
It was a testament to what the soldiers there had gone through that they barely batted an eye at the sight.
Still didn't prepare them for me just plummeting down from the sky, catching myself a few feet above the ground so I didn't destroy the newly repaired tarmac. Ignoring their wide-eyed gazes and awed looks, I instead focus on the blonde in front of me, who nearly threw her crate in the air with a shriek as she clasps one hand in front of her mouth.
Floating a little forward and subtly throwing up the same privacy ward I had used when last talking to Jessica, I allowed my faceplate to fold away, showing my grim smile and ominously glowing eyes.
"Hello Trish. I'd like to have a word with you."
Trish Walker, beauty extraordinaire and currently holding up a 250 pound crate with just one hand, looks like a kid caught with its hand in the cookie jar as she slowly glances between said crate and my face with a horrified look.
"Michael! Listen, I-"
I silence her just by raising a hand, my fake smile disappearing in favor of a severe scowl.
"Save it. Burstein already told me everything that happened."
"I was just trying to help-!"
"You stole from me. Both of you did."
Trish's eyes widen at that, before a resigned expression comes on her face.
"Look… I get it, ok? What I did was wrong, so take it out on me, alright? Yes, Burstein gave me the Supersoldier Serum, but only because I pushed him for it in the first place! I… I take full responsibility." The blonde says quickly.
Giving her a once over, my expression softens as I approach her.
"Good. You do realize why I'm so angry at you taking the Serum without my permission? Penalizing you without you even knowing what for is just going to end up counterproductive."
Trish allows the heavy crate to drop to the floor (I see a few soldiers wince out of the corner of my eye), before she flops down on it with a downcast expression.
"Like you said: I stole it. The Serum is your property, you can't just barge in and take it."
"Burstein?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, getting a nod and a shaky smile in return.
"Pretty much word for word. I knew that I was going to get in trouble the moment I decided on what I was going to do, Michael. Didn't stop me from doing it. I wanted to help people, you had the required stuff to allow me to do so. I wasn't going to hide in Othrys' basement while my own sister was killing demons left and right with her bare hands!"
For a moment, I just stare at the blonde as she throws her hands in the air out of frustration, before crossing them over her knees again. Slowly, I turn and take a seat next to her on the crate. Briefly it groans under my weight, so with an annoyed grunt I levitate myself a little, basically crouching instead of sitting.
Trish gives a brief smile at the sight, but it quickly fades when I focus back on her.
"It's more than just breaking the rules, Trish. Anyone else in Othrys' forces did the shit you pulled, they'd be answering to Harper right now. He'd probably have them doing Hysminai-level endurance and combat drills just to teach them a lesson. Think you can tell me why I came to visit you personally?"
She opens her mouth almost immediately, ready to give the obvious answer (because she's Jessica's sister), but the words don't come out when she actually gives it some thought. I wouldn't be placing so much emphasis on my presence here and my anger at her if it was merely that.
Trish might have had her fair share of problems during her life, but she's always been rather intelligent.
I can see she gets to the answer when her expression closes off and she huddles in on herself.
"Because of my dru-… because of my past." She says in a low voice, and I can see her gaze dart from underneath her lashes to take in the closest soldiers (who are painfully obvious in how they're trying not to look our way).
"I cast a spell: they can't hear us." I reassure her, and her stance loosens somewhat, though she doesn't look up at me.
"Yes, your history is part of the reason. Your… complex relation with your sister is another. Believe me, I know what it is like to look at someone and realize that no matter what it is you do, no matter how smart or strong you strive to be, you'll just never stack up against them. That what they can do will be forever out of your reach. So I can understand why you wanted to change that, I would be a hypocrite if I didn't. But your sister is another part of the reason I came to see you personally."
Waiting until she glances up at me, I continue.
"She loves you, Trish. Right on this crate are the two people that she cares the most about in the entire universe, until she gives birth that is. Can you imagine what it would've done to her if she had to find your body somewhere on the front lines? Taking the Serum gave you power, yes, but it hardly gave you the experience needed to run into the fray battling literal demons from Hell. You need to be more careful with what you do with your life, Trish: you're not the only person that cares about it."
Trish's eyes become misty at that, and I don't press her when she briefly turns away from me, hiding her face behind her bangs as she quickly rubs her hands across her face. I ignore the slight sniffling as she tries to regain her composure.
"I get it." She says, her voice thick with emotion.
"It's not like I threw myself into the front lines. I hung back, helped out where I could. Saved people from buildings and car wrecks. Hauled defense platforms into place. Stuff like that. I'm not suicidal."
I give a non-committal hum, looking out at the edge of the army encampment, where an enormous crowd has steadily been forming, more and more people pulling away from the enormous river of humans that are trying to find their way home to stand and gawk at me.
"How many did you kill?"
For a moment, Trish is silent, before answering me in a very small voice.
"Twenty-three."
"How did it feel?"
"… good."
Again I hum as I mull over what to do with Trish. Letting her just get away with what she did would set a bad precedent, but like I said, I understood where she was coming from and she was Jess' sister. It didn't feel right to be too harsh on her.
Clapping my hands (making Trish shoot almost three feet up in the air out of surprise), I straighten to my full height, before glancing down at the petite woman.
"Very well. You want to help? I'll give you the chance to prove that you can. Finish up whatever you were doing here, then report to Othrys. You're under house-arrest. Phineas will be keeping an eye on you at nearly all times, bed- and bathroom excluded of course. You'll regularly see a therapist to work through the same issues that led to your previous form of substance abuse. And I'm handing you off to Harper. Your ass is his. You wanna be a hero? He'll beat you into shape. Literally."
Trish's look of horror feels as sweet, sweet victory to me and I give her an enormous grin as she shrinks in on herself.
"I understand. Thanks Michael… for not… you know, blasting me with the power of the Sun or something."
I watch as she gets up from the crate, slinging it onto her shoulder again, all the while her face the very essence of the word 'down-trodden'. Despite my best efforts, it pulls at my heartstrings and deciding to cheer her up a bit, I halt her in her tracks by laying one of my massive paws on her tiny shoulder.
"Trish. I don't know if she mentioned this, but before I left for Space, Jess and I had been talking. It was supposed to be a surprise, you know, for when the baby was about to come. But I feel you should hear it now: we've settled on who we want as Godfather and Godmother. Congratulations: three superpowered little tykes are gonna be looking up to you soon."
She nearly drops the crate again as her mouth falls open in surprise.
"What?! Seriously?! Oh my-… wait, three?"
Giving her a cheeky wave, I bend my knees and push off, her scream falling away behind me as I soar towards the sky.
"MICHAEL!"
May 7th, 12:15
Two days after Hell Week
My office, Othrys
I'm leaning back in my luxurious chair as I let my eyes roam across the myriad of screens that are floating above my appropriately humongous desk. They display lists detailing the affairs that Othrys is involved with, and who's doing the involving. The majority concern the projects that Othrys is producing. While we mostly outsource the actual production to larger companies all over the world, there's still a lot that's built in-house, Melvin Potter's Forges always lit and firing away.
It's the smaller, more delicate stuff, mostly. Exotic materials, compact generators, advanced interfaces and more (I easily spot the schematics for building a fully-functional lightsaber that Radcliffe tried to pass off as merely an experiment using super-shaped plasma, but I decide to let it slide). The big things (such as the rebuilding of Manhattan following the One Day War using highly durable materials) are done by others using designs that they bought from us, most of them paying us a small fortune in royalties for the materials and the means to produce them.
Of course, after that they payed us another small fortune for the technical know-how in how to actually use those as well.
Hogarth was a shark swimming in bureaucratic waters and I was reminded of how glad I was she was on my side (though the idea wasn't new, as Erik Killmonger has been doing something similar with the limited amounts of raw Vibranium he has been selling).
Other screens showcase the research that Othrys is doing, and the parts of it that it is publishing. The details surrounding the superpowers granted by our various serums for instance will remain secret, since I don't trust some hidden genius out there to reverse engineer them based on our papers. Other things, like the various alien languages, histories and socio-economic and political systems that Sterns lifted from Sakaar's and Xandar's databanks will be spread throughout the world. Ever since I had gone public, many of my researchers have been asked to be key-note speakers at various conferences all around the world on the most varied of topics.
I usually just ended up sending some of my Think Tank's assistants, since my core group of scientists are far more useful inside Othrys than going around the globe delivering speeches. However, Sterns had recently impressed on me that a more visible presence of Othrys' enhanced inner circle would go a long way to make us seem more relatable to the people, taking away some of the insecurities that some parts of humanity were now feeling towards us (or rather, me).
While Othrys' numbers have continued to swell, the amount of enhanced has grown much more slowly. The rise in population was a necessary by-product of recruiting more people and taking on more projects. When we first made the move from the destroyed tannery to the island, most scientists in my Think Tank had two assistants at the most. Now those assistants were heading their own projects (though they mostly dealt with regular science instead of SCIENCE!) and all of them had half a dozen assistants of their own beneath them as well. Then there were the families of my employees, who more often than not decided to move in as well. Then there was the Legal Team that had been basically dropped off at my doorstep by Hogarth and when she learned that I hadn't objected beyond an annoyed 'hey!' she had dropped of a (thankfully smaller) PR team as well.
Instances like this had meant that Ohtrys had slowly been filling up with people for nearly two years now, and the longer they stayed here, the more likely they were to apply for enhancements. I barely even bothered dealing with those applications myself anymore: I trusted my Think Tank, Phineas and Harper enough to make the right choice in granting someone low-level enhancements or not.
I was only asked to chip in when it concerned the higher-level enhancements (like the instance with unlocking Skye's and Darryl's Inhuman powers) or when someone wanted more than a single one.
To this day, I have only declined two of such requests.
The reason why I have a screen with the internal make-up of Othrys opened as well is because of what's happening outside of Othrys. On the bank of the East River, where Charon usually moors his ferry, there's a crowd of hundreds and their number keeps growing steadily by the minute.
Observing them through the swathe of security features that Radcliffe had installed when we had first begun building my fortress, I can see why most of them are here.
They have bodies with them.
Crying women lead stretchers with pristine corpses on them, sobbing men hold tiny figures in their arms. Many of them have either the logo of my company written somewhere on their clothing and more than a few carry a sun-symbol in some fashion, either as a pin or on a necklace and one guy even has a carboard cut-out on a stick.
My worshippers as well as those who are simply grieving and desperate.
I observe a third group with somewhat morbid fascination: people with coolboxes and clipboards trying to make their through the crowd, talking to those carrying the corpses of their dead family and friends, desperately addressing them and pointing at the coolboxes.
Most of those conversations end ugly as emotions are running high. As expected: the last thing you want to see when you're standing this close to your last shot, your final piece of hope, is someone who begs you to approve the removal of organs for transplants. When the news of the healthy looking dead had fully spread, people working with hospitals had seen a rather unsettling but undeniably pragmatic way to at least gain some good from all this tragedy.
After all, there was no shortage of people who could be helped when thousands of mint-condition organs suddenly became available.
Those with donor cards were swiftly taken away, but in most other cases, the remaining family members were often loath to give up the bodies of their loved ones, probably due to how… normal they looked. But, I now realize, also because quite a lot of them had managed to cling to one last shred of hope.
Me.
And a disturbingly large amount of those people was now standing on my docks. It had been only a group of twenty last night when I went to bed, and not really wishing to deal with them (nor exactly knowing how to as well), I had foolishly ignored them, hoping that they'd go away on their own. Now there's a line of humans stretching up and down the East River, all of them calling out to Charon's ferry, begging him to dock his boat so that they can come to Othrys.
They want me to revive their dead.
Spooked by the masses on shore and unsure of what to do, Charon kept his boat (which he insisted on calling Styx, even though the inaccuracy of it had been pointed out to him. Repeatedly) roughly in the middle of the river and contacted Othrys.
I saw on my screens how Phineas put him through to Harper, but then I decided that I could no longer turn away from this problem. This responsibility.
"Phineas. Tell Harper and Charon that I'll deal with it." I say as I get up out of my chair and walk out of my office.
"Sure thing, Michael."
In under two minutes, I've flown out of Othrys' entrance hall and am on my way to where the masses were huddled up on the shore, their number now almost reaching a thousand. And still, more were coming in every moment. I rocketed over Styx, leaving it behind me, focusing instead on the people who were jumping and cheering as they saw me approach.
There was a lot of shoving and awkward shuffling involved when I slowly descended towards the docks, people scrambling to leave some room for me to actually stand on. I hadn't really wanted to get this close to such a huge amount of people (the way they were pressed together and the way some of them reached out to me brought up… bad memories), but I felt that hovering over them like a Messiah was something only a pretentious dick would do and actually standing on top of the water wouldn't have been much better.
The moment my armored boots hit the concrete, the crowd surges forwards again, and I have to clench every muscle in my body to keep myself from whipping out Harpe and scything them down by the dozen at their sudden movement. Instead, I focus on one of my newest tricks.
My weapons are always on me, miniaturized and hidden away in my Aurelion Armor. I'm still in constant contact with them though, and subsequently, with the Power Stone in my Shield. With a pulse of my will, the Stone flares up unnoticed, and I can feel its energy dance over my skin. I take a deep breath, focusing deeply and with a not insignificant amount of effort, draw that energy inwards, leeching it off the Power Stone. I can feel how instead of washing over me and through me, it falls into me, becoming a part of me, becoming my energy.
Swirling it around in my body like you would do with a fine wine in your mouth (or like you would with mouthwash if you wanna be gross about it), I force the energy upwards with a flex of my will, centering it around my throat.
And then, I speak. No, let me rephrase that. I Speak.
"PEOPLE. PLEASE. I UNDERSTAND YOUR GRIEF. YOUR FEAR. YOUR PAIN. I UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WOULD LOOK TO ME. BUT WHAT YOU ASK OF ME… I CANNOT GIVE YOU. I CANNOT BRING BACK THOSE WHOSE SOULS HAVE ALREADY PASSED TO THE AFTERLIFE. THEY ARE TRULY DEAD, AND THEY SHALL REMAIN SUCH. I REALIZE THAT THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR, BUT DEATH IS AS MUCH A PART OF LIFE AS THE AIR YOU BREATH OR THE GROUND THAT YOU STAND UPON. THAT PAIN THAT YOU ALL FEEL? THAT CAN ONLY TRULY HEAL ONCE YOU ACCEPT THIS FACT AND MAKE PEACE WITH IT."
The people closest to me shrink back due to the sheer Power that's behind each and every word I say, as if I'm talking through a ridiculously overpowered megaphone, an almost physical force impacting them.
For a moment the crowd is silenced, only broken by the soft sobs of those who just had their last hope utterly crushed, before a middle-aged man a few rows further back speaks up.
"Didn't you save everyone!? Everyone's healed! All the buildings are back! Why not our people?!"
"TONY STARK HIMSELF ASKED ME MUCH THE SAME AFTER I RETURNED FROM THE DARK DIMENSION. I'LL SAY TO YOU WHAT I SAID TO HIM: YOU HAVE SOULS. THEY EXIST WITHIN YOU, UNTIL YOU DIE, AFTER WHICH THEY WILL MOVE ON TO ANOTHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE. MY SPELL MERELY TURNED BACK TIME ON THE MATERIAL THINGS WITHIN THIS PLANE OF EXISTENCE. THEIR SOULS HAVE MOVED ON AND ARE NOW BEYOND MY REACH."
"Where did they go?! Did you save them?! Did you save their souls?! Did you save them from going to Hell?!" another man yells out immediately.
The question causes a tide of murmuring and furtive glances to form, rippling through the assembled crowd.
Well… fuck. There's no good answer to this one, is there? Still, looking to be at a loss for words is probably even worse, so I try to answer nonetheless.
"WHERE SOMEONE'S SOUL GOES AFTER DEATH IS A HIGHLY COMPLICATED MATTER. IT DEPENDS LARGELY ON THEIR ACTS IN LIFE. A GOOD LIFE LEADS TO A GOOD AFTERLIFE. A BAD LIFE LEADS TO A BAD AFTERLIFE. IN EITHER CASE, I HAVE MERELY MADE SURE THAT SUCH EVIL PLANES DO NOT INTRUDE UPON THIS LIFE."
"Who decides if their lives were good or bad?! You?!" a woman a few dozen feet to my left shouts and the crowd hushes as they anticipate my answer.
I was starting to regret coming here. The reason I had come personally in the first place was because I felt that I should be the one to deal with this and that I would be the best choice to let them down easy and send them away gently, without causing them to start hating Othrys (and me). As I was going over available options to save the situation, one particular thought wormed its way to the forefront of my mind.
'… I could lie.' I realize.
They have no way of telling if I'm right or wrong after all. It surely would take away a lot of my headaches if I could just tell them what they wanted to hear and just be done with it all. As I contemplate it though, I think back to my friends. My family. They might not know for certain, but they'd immediately suspect that I would be bullshitting, using the grief of thousands just to make my own life easier.
The Ancient One. Sterns. Jessica.
They would know. Worse, what of my children? What would they end up thinking of me if I became a fraud, praying on people's hope, feeding off their faith. I'd be no better than those tv evangelists who ask for money so that they can "cure" someone of cancer and who just end up buying a couple of mansions for themselves.
No, I would become better. That's what I've been doing my entire life since I woke up in this universe, becoming better. Stronger, faster, tougher, smarter. I had sacrificed so much for it, nearly giving up what made me human. I had taken so much away from others. Perhaps now was the time to grow better in other ways as well.
When Sterns and Jessica had finally confronted me a few months after the One Day War, I had vowed to Jessica that I would be the type of man that she could accept as the father to her child (or children, as it turned out to be). Saving Earth for the second time would go a long way of course, but I felt that how I handled this would be a tipping point.
Then there were also the reports that Foster and Phineas had given me to consider. Claiming to be a God and placing myself at the head of a cult millions strong, right when the people in power were warier of me and the potential danger that I represented than ever before?
Yeah, I don't need that headache.
So, I took a deep breath and focused back on the crowd.
"NO. I DO NOT JUDGE THEM. THEY ARE JUDGED BY WHATEVER ENTITY THAT THEY BELIEVE IN THAT HAS AUTHORITY OVER THEM AND THAT HAS THE POWER TO MANIPULATE THE EXISTENCE WITHIN AND BEYOND THE ASTRAL PLANE TO HOUSE THEIR SOUL IN AN AFTERLIFE. I DO NOT HAVE THAT POWER. VERY FEW BEINGS DO."
I can feel the shock and disappointment crash through the crowd, but before the murmurs can start up, I continue.
"I KNOW THAT THIS MUST SADDEN YOU. I KNOW THAT MANY OF YOU HAVE PLACED YOUR LAST HOPES IN ME, AFTER SEEING ME BEAT BACK BOTH DEMON HORDES. I'M SORRY THAT I AM NOT AS POWERFUL AS YOU WISH FOR ME TO BE."
Tears are flowing freely amongst the crowd as many of them start to realize that their last shred of hope, their last hail-Mary, has been for nothing. As I'm still feeling them out with my telepathy, I'm nearly overwhelmed when I'm confronted with a tsunami of grief and hopelessness. Seeing these desperate people, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes…
'Oh, I'm going to regret this, aren't I?'
"I KNOW THAT MANY OF YOU MUST HAVE QUESTIONS. A LOT OF QUESTIONS. I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BRING BACK YOUR LOVED ONES, BUT I MAY BE ABLE TO ANSWER A FEW OF THEM AND HOPEFULLY THIS WILL HELP YOU WORK THROUGH THE PAIN OF LOSING THEM."
Looking around the hushed crowd, I continue, my tone softer but my voice no less powerful.
"TO THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE STILL HURTING… WHO ARE STILL SEARCHING FOR SOMETHING TO TAKE AWAY THE PAIN, TO RETURN A SENSE OF MEANING AND NORMALCY TO YOUR LIFE… YOU ARE FREE TO TRAVEL ABOARD THE STYX TOWARDS OTHRYS, WHERE MY PEOPLE AND I SHALL DO OUR BEST TO HELP YOU. ANY QUESTIONS YOU MAY HAVE, WE SHALL TRY TO ANSWER. IF YOU MERELY WISH TO SPEAK INSTEAD, TO RAGE AGAINST THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES, THEN WE WILL LISTEN. MY HOPE IS THAT, ONCE YOU LEAVE OTHRYS, YOU'LL FIND THAT THE BURDEN ON YOUR HEART HAS BEEN SLIGHTLY LIGHTENED."
A ragged cheer goes up amongst the gathered people, as some of them tearfully hug each other while others slowly slink away back to their homes in grief and hopelessness, cradling their lifeless loved ones close to them.
Seeing Charon already maneuvering the Styx closer so that it can dock (he could probably hear the whole thing) and the hopefulness and glee that its approach brings to the remaining people, I consider the possibility that this may not be as bad as I feared.
May 7th, 18:45
On a balcony overlooking the grounds just outside of Othrys
"I'm regretting this already."
"Well, you did promise a couple of thousand people that you would help them work through their grief, sir. And considering how many people here wear some sort of symbol referencing the sun, and you may have just accidentally given your tacit approval of a religious cult devoted to honoring you. That might cause some… excitement, you see."
"I get that Harper. It isn't that I hadn't thought about the possibility of this happening. It just… it had felt like the right thing to say at the time, alright?"
"If you say so, sir."
I glance from the corner of my eye at the youthful looking veteran at my side. Like me, he's standing on the ramparts surrounding Othrys' outer walls, looking down at the field that separates my fortress from the jungle surrounding it.
The field is absolutely covered in humans. Thankfully they're keeping clear from the jungle, which is somewhat agitated due to all the ruckus happening on the island, but I sent Hansen, Burstein and Groot in there to quiet the trees and shrubbery down.
And that's a good thing to, considering the amount of people that don't even known how close to danger they are.
After my declaration, the people who had come because they thought I was a God had been even more eager to travel to Othrys. Rationalizing that I couldn't talk to all of them out here on the docks all at once, I had ordered Charon to take them to the island one group at a time, no more than Styx could comfortably carry in a single trip. Hopefully, I could counsel a few hundred at a time, get them focused on looking towards the future again and the possibilities and responsibilities that it brought with it and then send them on their way. The idea was that they would then spread the word, repeating what I've told them and helping each other work through their own grief and slowly the healing process would continue on its own, without direct interference from my part.
That had been nearly seven hours ago. There have been over twenty trips back and forth.
I briefly entertained the idea of speaking to every person one on one, using the Time Stone to get to all of them far faster than physically possible (I could hear Einstein roll in his grave when I simply thought of messing with Time like that), but not only did that sound utterly draining, it also meant using the Eye of Agamotto.
A lot.
I haven't seen the Ancient One yet since two days ago, and I was thankful (though somewhat confused) that she didn't immediately demand the powerful Amulet back right then and there. But such… casual use of the greatest artefact of her order, hundreds of times in a single day?
Yeah, Fairy Godmother or no, I wasn't taking my chances on her just letting that slide.
So, I talked to several groups at once, using my telepathy to tune in on the thoughts of those who were grieving, trying to find a balance between what they wanted to hear and what they needed to hear. Simultaneously I tried to somewhat dissuade the people there that were part of the cult that had been set up in my name. Whenever they asked me religious focused questions, I tried to be as evasive and non-committal as possible, lest they take my words, write it in a book and start quoting passages from it every Sunday.
The fact that all of them were gathered here on my island in the first place was bad enough already, because it certainly seemed like I was allowing my cultists into my home and delivering sage advice to them, in a way (like Harper had pointed out) appearing to tacitly give this new religion my blessing.
And on and on it went.
I realized that this religion wasn't going to go away any time soon: there were too many people, it was too widespread and it was hardly like I would fade away into obscurity. It would develop on its own, no matter how far I distanced myself from it, but my fear was that if I allowed that to happen, it would end up with the same bloody history that clung to every major religion that has ever existed on this planet.
Then again, the thought of setting up a theocracy here and now wasn't exactly appealing either.
So, in the end I just tried to subtly steer the way that the religion's values would end up evolving, carefully hinting at my stances regarding religion and worship whenever I was questioned about it (which was often). I tried to make it clear that I wouldn't demand devotion from them. Disregarding that I wasn't even a God like they thought I was, it simply didn't feel right for me to ask for it. If people wanted to pray, they were free to do so. If they didn't feel like it, then that was fine with me as well.
Try not to be an asshole to others, though if they are acting like assholes, then feel free to point it out. Try to be friendly and helpful instead, but I'm not asking people to be saints and if you get tired of doing stuff for others all the time, then of course I would be understanding if you gave the world the finger and cocooned yourself in your home with your favorite blanket to snuggle up in and your favorite show to watch. Try to be respectful to others and don't harm animals unnecessarily, though eating farm animals and game was fine. Be mindful of the environment. Raise your kids to be good people. And eat all the pork you want, because honestly, why would I give a fuck?
In the words of a Clegane: "Don't be a cunt." I hadn't said that out loud of course (there had been children present after all) but the sentiment of my first "commandments" basically boiled down to that.
There were some more organizational matter that people felt needed to be addressed, such as holidays, roles within the community and so on. I really didn't want to touch that with a ten-foot pole, since if I started getting involved in that sort of thing, then before the year was out there would be a fully realized "Church for the Sun" or some shit like that. For now, I had implied (somewhat more strongly than I had actually intended) that Othrys could be seen as having the last say in the matters over which there was some serious dispute.
If someone else other than a resident of Othrys started to dictate their life to them (on religious grounds, that is, they still needed to obey cops and the like), then they had my explicit permission to punch that person in the face.
I wasn't going to allow pseudo-prophets to pop up around the world with their own truths, telling people what they thought that I wanted from them. No way I was going to let someone else dictate the type of God that I would be.
If I wasn't careful, people would be bringing human sacrifices back to mainstream popularity. By making sure that people had a place to go to in order to second-guess those people who would like to set themselves up as "authorities", I made sure that I could keep this cult from going completely of the rails, without having to dictate a heaping stack of commandments for them for every hour of the day.
Most of the questions that the swelling crowd had asked me had been along similar lines, to the point that after the fourth batch, I had opted to direct most of them towards Phineas, who took to dealing with the distraught and hopeful humans with gusto and after the eight round he had pretty much taken over the general forum. Those with more difficult or interesting questions he passed onto me.
For instance, one of them had been: "What do we do about Thor and the people that worship him? Do we need to worship him too? Do we need to try to convince those people to worship you instead?"
That one had taken me by surprise, I'll admit, but in the end, I had simply told the young man that Thor was an ally of Othrys and I considered him a friend. So, whether people decided to include him in their prayers was entirely up to them, I wouldn't mind either way. Meaning that no, I didn't want my people "convincing" others to switch religion either. What people believed in was their business, as long as it made them happy and it didn't hurt anyone.
My hope was that this religion would have no need of missionaries. When I had my new body (and I was so close to realizing it!) and became fully omnipotent, every single human on the planet would know my power anyway and have the chance to decide whether or not they'd follow me.
And so it had gone on for hours, though there finally seemed to be a decline in numbers as the sun started to dip towards the horizon. I could only hope that I hadn't made a huge mistake which would end up with me being portrayed in the media as a rival to the pope or something. Considering how high-strung tensions were on the Government side of things, I really didn't need that shit right now. Hopefully, the people that had visited me today would take my veiled comments, interpret them like I had intended them to and start spreading them amongst like-minded people, making sure that, however the Hyperion-cult evolved, it would turn into something moderate and non-violent.
"Charon. Last call. Set this batch off at the shore. Don't pick up any new ones." I spoke up in a tired tone of voice, seemingly addressing the thin air.
A LED strip lining the balustrade I'm leaning on lights up as Phineas takes my message and sends it to Charon's phone, who answers almost immediately.
"Yes sir!"
For a moment, silence returns before I look at Harper, who merely raises his eyebrows at my serious expression.
"Harper. You don't think I'm a God, do you?"
My head of security looks baffled for just the briefest of seconds, before he lets out a scoff and shakes his head.
"Was brought up with only one God by my Ma, sir. Kicked him to the curb the moment I left home to join the Army and never needed one since. I'm fine with that. I don't have a habit of kneeling, you see. Not for anyone, not even God. He wants me on my knees, he's gonna have to get his ass down here and break my legs first." The aged soldier says with a short, barking laugh, before he shoves his hands in his pockets.
"Right. So… that's a no then?" I ask, seeing how he glances at me from the corner of his eyes.
"Sir… Michael. I would follow you into Hell itself. That's good enough for me."
Considering this came from a man who had literally seen Hell, a man who defined the very concept of 'stoic'… well, after the day(s) I've had, I thought I could be forgiven for being just a little overemotional at his sincere words.
Harper didn't agree.
"Sir. Sir! Sir, no hugging!"
"Oh come on, Harper! Just this once!"
"Sir, respectfully, I will punch you in the face."
Our impromptu little game of cat-and-mouse was abruptly halted by a commotion down on the grounds where the humans were still milling about. I couldn't see what was happening since people were crowding around something, but it gave me a bad feeling in my stomach.
"Phineas!"
My friend didn't even reply with words: instead a screen popped up over the balustrade, showing the feed from one of his Soter-platforms down below, revealing the cause of all that commotion.
What I saw made me clench my fists as Extremis began to heat up my body.
"Fuck."
Without hesitation, I pushed off, rocketing towards the middle of the clustered humans. Once again, I leeched a bit of energy from the Power Stone and sent it towards my vocal chords as I quickly closed in on them.
"MOVE!"
They did. I landed in the cleared area almost immediately after, unbalancing many of the humans closest to me with the tremor from my impact. I wasn't looking at them however. I wasn't even looking at the slightly overweight, familiar blonde lying prone on the ground, clutching an obviously broken arm with soft moans of pain. I didn't even look at the two thrashed Soter platforms lying on the ground, reduced to warped metal plating and sparking wires.
No, I was looking at the cause of this whole mess. Said cause had just finished ripping Phineas head from his body (again), allowing the metallic body to fall to the floor as she crushed the square box of metal between her hands.
Her eyes focused back on the prone woman with a mad intensity.
"You! You are a worthless excuse for a mother! She doesn't want you! She doesn't need you! She'll have me!" the woman roared and with a snarl she drew back her arm to throw the scrap in her hands with deadly force and accuracy. Or she would have, if my enormous hand didn't engulf her entire forearm, halting her in her tracks.
She showed some impressive agility when she whirled around to face me, wild eyes set in a snarling face and framed by frizzy, unkempt hair.
"Hello Alisa."
In response, I got punched in the face. The force of the blow is… not insignificant, since I certainly felt it and it moved my head to the side, but after what I've endured in the Dark Dimension it isn't really anything special.
The crowd let out a shocked gasp when Jessica's mom hit me, but an oppressive silence falls over the clearing when I slowly turn my head, my broad chin forcing Alisa's fist back with apparent ease. I can see it register with her, the shock at my durability and strength visible in her wide eyes and chasing away the earlier haze of anger.
Seeing her eyes refocus on me, truly seeing me for the first time, I can't really help myself. My eyes explode with heat, turning into two glowing orbs of power as a wide grin grows on my face.
"Huh. I can definitely see the family resemblance."
Fun Fact: Brett Dalton (the actor who plays Grant Ward in the Agents of SHIELD show) got his Master of the Fine Arts Degree at Yale School of Drama, where he was a classmate of Lupita Nyong'o, who plays Nakia in Black Panther.
AN: So, I wanted to get more finished, but this chapter is getting long and I feel that this would be a nice place to end it. This was mostly introspection, showing the consequences of Hell Week on Michael's psyche and hopefully showing some Character Development (and of course, revealing what happened to the baby, I hope you guys enjoyed that twist :P). By cutting the chapter here, I hope to have the next chapter focus wholly on Michael growing in power once again, by recruiting scientists and technology that I had wanted to include in this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to include some pretty tense action in that chapter as well, not to mention a big action sequence that I'm looking forwards to. Cheers!
All of my thanks and gratitude to my lovely patrons! IronmanMarkIV, justlovereadin, Shaman95, Daniel Dorfman, Carn Krauss, DoctorTortoise, Sam, Thordur Hrafn, DavidJP, ReaperScythe, CJ Elsen, Devon, Khamalpreet Singh, Kyle Reese, RLStrained, Kahn, Vu, Roman Krupkin! Thanks so much!