For all she knew, the essence of an Elder Goddess and the Phoenix Force washed away all the impurities of the 'lower' bloodline, and Thor might as well not be her brother by blood.
It was a complicated topic, and for the moment, Hela didn't want to pay more mind to the affairs of her estranged 'family'.
Though her pleas fell on the deaf ears of Reality, and she was quick to notice that Thor was waking up.
Aragorn's eyes snapped wide open. He was busy repairing his mindscape, and in the presence of Hela and Irina, he did not need to mind his surroundings. One was his daughter in all but blood, and the other worshiped the ground that died under his Noona's feet.
Thor and Loki were different. Thor's awakening was enough to have him change gears in an instant.
Irina, noticing Aragorn's reaction, narrowed her eyes at the slowly waking up prince.
Thor was a warrior; his awakening brought back online his battle instincts. The last thing he remembered was the regretful look on his mother's face, then the darkness, a warm kind of darkness, swallowed his consciousness.
Regardless, with a start, he grabbed Loki and jumped away from the possible enemies he detected. His right hand was extended, waiting for his trusty companion, and his eyes immediately began to analyze the situation.
He easily recognized the two goddesses, but when his eyes landed on Aragorn, his understanding crashed. It was not power he was feeling from Aragorn; it was as if Aragorn were the avatar of some sort of fundamental form, which, after he spread himself thin across Reality, may not be wrong.
He could feel Aragorn where his flaming body stood, but he could also feel him all around the Arbor Mundi, up in the sky—repairing the wound in Reality left by the SIEVE—and even beyond, across the infinite stars.
For a moment, he faltered, but the incoming presence of his Mjølnir was enough to reignite his battle drive.
Yet, as the hammer circled the mountain-like trunk of the World Tree and approached him, it deviated.
His mouth agape, Thor couldn't believe the ease with which his hammer landed in Aragorn's open palm.
Aragorn twirled it in his hand once and twice before a look of disinterest crossed his eyes, and he sent Mjølnir to Hela's waiting hand.
"Not enough energy to justify its absorption?" Irina asked.
"It would not have helped much," Aragorn shook his head in agreement.
"This brings up some memories," Hela said. She juggled the hammer a couple of times before her eyes landed on Thor. "Have you heard of Hela Odinsdottir?"
There was a glimmer of misplaced hope in her eyes. Said hope evaporated with Thor's question and confused face.
"Odinsdottir?" Wary, yet curious, Thor asked. "It doesn't matter," Thor shook his head. He didn't allow Hela an answer to his question; there were more pressing matters. "Where's the All-Father and Mother, Goddess Frigga?"
Hela needed a moment to decide whether to rip the bandage or try a more careful approach. That internal debate was short-lived; she was Hela, and at this point in her life, she was over carefulness.
"The All-Mother and All-Father have been judged for their crimes against Reality," Hela ripped the bandage off. "Her soul rests in Valhalla, and his was sacrificed by his own hand." And to add salt, alcohol, and hydrogen peroxide to the wound, Hela added, "Reality is a better place in their absence."
Hammer or no Hammer, Thor exploded in rage and berserked at Hela.
"Don't disturb Master," Irina muttered, annoyed. She waved her hand, and the Mirror Dimension superimposed itself over Reality and absorbed the two Asgardians.
"Didn't you create a bigger mess just moments ago?" Aragorn teasingly asked.
"Nonsense, Master. I was playing with our new sister; that was a greeting spar. That guy, on the other hand, wants nothing but Hela's death," Irina explained.
Aragorn nodded. Irina's explanation made sense to him. Even if he was sure, at the beginning, Hela wanted nothing but the end of the perceived threats to her mistress.
"And you? Are you going to stop that, or should I make you stop?" Irina asked the air to her left.
Clang!
Metal against metal was her reply. Loki, tear-stricken, appeared, his daggers in a contest of strength with two free-floating daggers Irina had summoned from her storage.
"WHY?!" Loki roared. It was a roar loaded with the resentment of a child who had lost his mother.
"I could explain, but would it matter?" Aragorn commented from behind Irina.
"MY MOTHER HARMED NONE BUT THE DAMNED ENEMIES OF ASGARD!" Loki shouted.
"Poor Odin," Irina chimed in. This registered as a battle to her, so she was pulling the big guns: psychological torment.
"What?!" Loki asked, confused about the out-of-the-blue mention of his father.
"Odin brought you from Jötunheim, saved you from certain death after your birth parents, ashamed of your birth, disposed of you like trash," Irina smiled regretfully, as if it pained her to reveal the truth.
"And how do you repay him?" Irina pressed, not allowing Loki to recover from the emotional damage. "You grow to resent him to the point that even after hearing he would never even reach Valhalla, or any Soul Repository for that matter, your heart has only space for your mother. What a disgusting complex!"
"SHUT UP, WITCH!" Loki snapped. Magic circles formed facing Irina, runes glowed ominously green in his daggers, and he cast the most real illusions his shaken state of mind allowed him.
"I didn't even name the complex, but it looks like I wasn't wrong," Irina chuckled. Fire wisps of cerulean blue sparked to life all around her. "It must have been hard for you," Irina's grin split her face unnaturally, "knowing the man you resented the most got to enjoy the woman you loved the most every night."
Was Loki in Love with his adoptive mother? Possibly not. But the sheer disrespect, coupled with the heart-wrenching news that his parents were murdered, overcame all logic and washed away any cunning in him.
There were his daggers, Irina, and his need to spear her skull through her eyes, that's all that mattered to him.
Loki was not weak, but he was not Hela, and certainly wasn't at the level of a Skymother; hence, not even a minute after he exploded into action, Irina dropped his charred body atop one of the protruding roots.
"Master," Irina called out patiently.
"Hmmm?" Aragorn voiced out.
"Why are we keeping them alive?" Irina asked.
"Oh, I don't care if they die," Aragorn replied.
"Didn't you order us not to kill them?" Irina questioned.
"That was before I got the energy signature of the Mind and Reality Stones," Aragorn explained. "Now, after so much had derailed from the future I knew possible for this Reality, I have better chances of finding the Stones than Loki."
"So... Should I kill him?" A blue spear of light loaded with divinity manifested above Loki's broiled head.
As Aragorn was going to shrug his shoulders, Hela exited the Mirror Dimension and halted the bunny's actions.
"Please don't," she said.
"LOKI!!!" Thor bounced from behind her and almost shot himself protectively over Loki. Shielding him from the fiery blue spear. Thor was covered in necrotic wounds, but he was, altogether, in a better state than the Loki-shaped charcoal lump.
Irina looked from Thor to Hela with a questioning gaze, as if asking: Sister, why is that thing in one piece?
"I made a deal with him," Hela explained. "His cooperation in exchange for Frigga's resurrection."
Life and Death, so long as the core/soul/essence existed, were a Deity of Death and/or Life's bitches. And, in Marvel, resurrection came up cheap.
"That's... smart," Irina praised. To the Aesir, Hela was nothing different from and stranger, if anything, if she returned claiming to be the long-lost firstborn of Odin, some might mistake her for a scammer.
Things were different if she returned backed by the support of the heir apparent and the second prince.
"In that case," Irina's left ear made a motion, and a portal appeared not far from the Asgardian siblings. "You should take him to the Ark for regeneration. I'm pretty sure I made most of his limbs unusable."
Under the murderous glare of Thor, Irina saw them walk through the portal. Then, with a skip in her steps, she bounced to her master cheerfully and took her position behind him.
She was happy; it was her, her master, and only them.
That happiness gloomed over like a sunny day to a sudden storm when she sensed something shifting. She didn't know what it was, but she sensed it coming from a distance, not far from where they sat.
"Oh," Aragorn commented.
"Master?" Irina questioned.
"It appears Reality switched its dimensional axis as it healed," Aragorn commented.
"What does that have to do with this?" Irina asked.
"The entrance to one of the Nexus of Realities was moved to the point of most stability," Aragorn explained, his eyes switching through a pattern of colors Irina knew meant surprise and curiosity.
"The Arbor Mundi?" Irina surmised.
"Right about there," Aragorn pointed with his flaming tail.
Over a root that peaked just above the surface of the blessed lake, an entrance appeared, like a controlled tear in Reality.
"Is that..." Irina paused, raising her guard at what she was feeling.
"Otherworld," Aragorn stated.
Irina recognized the sights at the other side of the tear; she and her sister had visited that realm to collect the genetic samples Aragorn used as their templates of evolution.
"Is that bad or good?" Irina asked. Never before had her job—and personal hobby—of guarding Aragorn been so demanding.
"It's good for Reality," Aragorn said. From the other side, the clanking of high heels resounded rhythmically. Someone was coming.
"And Earth?" Irina asked.
"Having an entrance to a nexus this exposed could be a problem," Aragorn said.
Less than a second later, the visitor came into full view.
"Barbie," Aragron greeted.
"My Lord," Opal Luna Saturnyne greeted.
"Saturnyne," Irina said in greeting.
The Omniversal Majestrix raised an eyebrow at the clear change and upgrade in life level she could sense from Irina.
↓Part 3━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 3↓
"What brings you here, Barbie?" Aragorn asked, his eyes turning to the entrance to Otherworld.
The Omniversal Majestrix didn't reply immediately. She assumed a pensive expression and then asked, "I came to ask you about what happened that sent a tremor through Otherworld."
"... A tremor through Otherworld?" Aragorn asked, confused.
"Yes, and then there were these probes that carried your signature," the Majestrix added.
"Ah... That was me, at least the probes part was my responsibility," Aragorn admitted. "I was fishing for a troublesome fishy."
"Was that thing responsible for the tremors, Master?" Irina asked.
"That thing," the Majestrix interjected.
"A baby Beyonder," Aragorn replied.
"A WHAT?!" the Majestrix questioned in exclamation.
"Possibly when the future was being unraveled, that could potentially spread quakes to affixed entrances like the one to Otherworld," Aragorn explained, ignoring the Majestrix's bafflement.
"Won't that be a problem? Catching the attention of a few of the multiversal monsters, I mean," Irina asked.
"... Yeah," Aragorn nodded. "But what can be done now? I can't hide this Reality anymore that I already did."
"Then this was meant to happen eventually," Irina said, trying to find solace in inevitability. "Nothing to be done about it."
"Could I at least get an explanation?" the Majestrix asked. 'How rude,' she thought to herself.
"A Beyonder hatched in this Reality; it went on a rampage, and I ended it. You could have inferred that much, no need for winded explanations," Aragron shrugged.
"... It's not that I could not, the surmised conclusion was staggering, and I wanted to deny Reality," the Majestrix said with a tired sigh. "I came as the harbinger of bad omens."
"That's great, we needed more of those," Irina commented with a done-with-life smile.
"What else did our fight cause?" Aragorn asked.
"If I can surmise that the intrusions of your probes must have poked at the Dimensional Lords, so can you, my Lord. I do not bring omens about what you already know," the Majestrix said.
"So, something related to the Overworld Nexus?" Aragorn asked.
"Exactly," the Majestrix affirmed. "As I'm certain you understand, part of my responsibilities includes keeping certain harmful and potentially multiversally inconvenient factors/beings/events away from Doomed Realities."
"No one sane would want to throw a spark at a powder keg," Aragorn nodded in understanding.
"They would not?" Irina murmured. The blast, the heat, the flames, the smoke, the fire, it all sounded like a pretty good motivator to her.
The Majestrix ignored Irina's comment—which they all heard—and continued. "It was something that felt wrong, evil, old, and originated from the main Reality, 616; it was like a piece of something, too small to be filtered by our shielding, and too significant to be entirely hidden."
"That doesn't tell us much," Irina commented.
"I was too busy with Kubos, so whatever it was, it could have slipped my awareness," Aragorn said. His eyes were flickering through a color combination that Irina registered as worry.
"Master?" Irina asked. "Are we not used to wrong, evil, and old by now?"
"Wrong and evil are no concerns," Aragorn replied. "It's old, and that it came from Earth-616 is what's worrisome."
"Why?" Irina asked.
"Because when I say old, I mean from a time before this iteration began," the Majestrix explained.
"Ah," Irina understood. "So we are talking about the monsters older than Goddess Gaea, like the Cosmic Hunger?"
"Like the Goblin Force," the Majestrix nodded.
"This can't be good," Aragorn groaned in annoyance. For so long, he had kept Earth-5H1N3 hidden from the outside threats, and now it had been spotted by an 'annoyance.'
"Do you bear only bad news?" Irina, somewhat scantingly, asked. With Aragorn healing, she was being particularly overprotective of him, and she didn't like the Majestrix's presence at that moment.
"..." The Majestrix took a moment to breathe in. Normally, a goddess wouldn't dare to act as such in her presence, but she understood impossibly clearly that Irina was not one she should mess with, not unless she wanted the equivalent of an Abstract on her ass, and she was already done with learning under Death or Aragorn; she was not ready for another round of forced apprenticeship.
"Thanks to the new affixation, the link to this Reality is more stable. This will allow me greater control and access over what comes and goes through the Nexuses I oversee. That's all I wanted to inform," the Majestrix said.
"The update is appreciated, Barbie," Aragorn nodded.
"..." Irina stared fixedly at the blonde.
"..." The Majestrix stared expectantly at the bluenette.
"..." Irina dragged her eyes to the entrance behind the blonde.
"..." The Majestrix's eyebrow twitched and then said, "Why do I bother?" She stepped back into Otherworld.
"Why don't you like her?" Aragorn asked, curious.
"That's a power-hungry bimbo, stay away from her, Master," Irina advised like a mother trying to keep her skirt-chaser son away from a costly decision.
"... Okay," Aragorn said. He found no need to start a discussion where it was not needed.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
While humanity was being slowly released from their shelters and refuges, as the revived were brought back, Yelena steeled herself and gazed conflictedly at the restored Baxter Building.
Johnny Storm was a sore spot for her. Two beings with an aggregated age of less than half a century should not have made decisions about eternal love, that was her conclusion.
Would anyone who had not loved anyone else for at least 50 years have any place in claiming they understand what loving for 300,000 years would be like?
Yelena now knew it was naïve of them, profoundly so.
However, time, or more like the experienced passage of time, was a bitch.
To her, it was so long ago that the only reason she was still mortified about what she did was that Aragorn had taught them how to preserve their mindsets; how to not become old foggies after the first century, as he called it.
To Johnny Storm... It was barely a day ago that he had a wonderful girlfriend whom he fantasized about.
It was cruel. Unfair to Johnny, and, in a way, to her. However, Yelena understood they had no one to blame but their naïve selves.
"What am I even doing?" Yelena questioned herself. "I'm soon to be a great-grandmother, and here I am, like a teen fussing over having fucked up someone they loved."
It was a situation almost factually impossible.
Yelena was a goddess, the Goddess of Lust and Ice; she was a ruler of a planetary system, a founder of a Galactic Empire, billions worshipped her, she had seen the eras of the Imperium come and go, she had designed star systems, she had experienced so much that it was, is, and will be impossible for Johnny to grasp, they had so little in common now that, normally, were it not for Aragorn's aragorness, she would not have even sympatize with Johnny will suffer through.
"There is no need to make things awkward," Yelena muttered.
She reached with her psionic sense and waited for Johnny to be alone in his room. She didn't want to greet his family and then go through the unnecessary drama of having to keep him at bay to not lead him on, while also acting as if things had not changed.
Or maybe it was cowardice; maybe she didn't want to face Susan Storm and lie to her face, like she was not about to break her little brother's heart.
Or maybe she was overblowing this out of proportion... She wished so.
"Whatever, I'll get through this as I've done with everything else," Yelena said and finished hyping herself up; Johnny had just entered his room, and Susan and Ben were going to the floor below to speak with their prisoner, Reed Richards.
She teleported with a subtle pulse.
"Whoa!" Johnny exclaimed, his living flame flared up with him. Upon recognition of the uninvited guest, he exclaimed, "Lena!" and glomped her in a hug.
His scent, his warmth, the contours of his muscles, the beaming smile, the care she felt he had for her through her empathy, it all washed over her like an intoxicating, mind-numbing drug.
Her nine tails, longer than her height, coiled around Johnny; her arms did as well. The living flame beamed a warmed flame of no more than 37°C (98.6°F) over her and her host.
Before she knew it, her legs were locked around his waist, and she said the one thing she knew was true, "I've missed you lots."
"Have you seen me? It's natural you'd miss me, Hot Stuff," Johnny preened like a peacock. "Just yesterday I was buried right under these," he squeezed her and kneaded her asscheeks, "so I didn't miss you."
"Huh? You won't say 'It's been 84 years...' and look all teary for me?" Yelena asked in mock hurt.
"It's you who should say that," Johnny grinned and leaned forward for a kiss.
Before Yelena had a moment to stop, before she even considered it, she automatically leaned into the kiss and accepted his tongue in her mouth.
This was how they did things; they didn't peck, the loaded sexual tension didn't allow it. His hands spread her asscheeks; she felt her lower lips part slightly to the motion, she, unconsciously, projected a haze of divine lust.
Her insides tightened, Johnny's cock throbbed; his pants restriction was hurting him, her nipples hardened, and the vulpine slut wore no bra, so Johnny felt her twin peaks against his chest.
One didn't need to breathe; the other's pride wouldn't allow him to be the first to give in, and before they processed the how or when, they were naked in bed. Yelena's clothing had returned to her P-Link, like fluid sinking into a drain, and her telekinesis had conveniently ripped away Johnny's UMF suit.
She spread her legs for him, craddled his head in her arms, and smothered him in her breasts. He tilted his head to the side and nabbed one of her nipples hard. He coiled his tongue around it and sucked hard, enough to hurt her. Goosebumps covered her skin in response, and a low moan escaped her.
She wrapped two tails around his legs, and one coiled around his waist. She aligned her wet folds with her painfully erect cock and reeled him in with a slow, yet unstopable, thrust.
Slowly, inch by inch, his cock parted way to her core, and her adaptability kicked in. A deep, shaky moan escaped his mouth as he felt her insides tense, coil, shiver, and lick his dick in.
It was too much, too exotic, and before he could try to picture anything else aside from the divinely gorgeous sex goddess under him to ward his climax away, he painted white and flooded her insides.
A pleased smile, half-lidded eyes, and a rosy blush adorned Yelena.
It was not enough, though.
She used her divinity over lust to negate his refractory period. The limit at which neurons could fire was removed, and the risk of overstimulation was voided.
His dick throbbed hard in response. She felt it drag her vagina upwards, her cervix lowered to suck his head in.
She pushed him back with her tails, her insides pulled in, refusing to let go. They tensed and sucked, Johnny shivered in response, and when he was almost out, she pulled him back in with the same deliberate—torturous, even—pace.
Her insides heated up, a temperature that might have been too much for lesser mortals, but not a problem for the Human Torch. His living flame, in response, raised the temperature further.
The comfortable—for her—burning sensation drove her to the edge, and when Johnny plunged through her cervix to paint her once more white, she shivered and reached her climax.
Her divinity pulsed, and both their lust climbed higher.
Johnny, in a lust-filled daze, uncoiled himself free from her tails and switched Yelena forcibly face down. Yelena, almost by reflex, arched her back sharply, pushed her ass upward, and spread it open like a present to him and only him.
Some of her tails wrapped around his legs to secure him, to not allow reprieve. A couple of them snaked around her arms and pulled him in. He grabbed a handful of her free tails by the base and brutally yanked her ass to her dick. He penetrated her in an abrupt, fast thrust with no consideration for her, just how she liked it.
His free hand left a red imprint of a slap on her ass. Her cheeks wiggled with the motion, and she grunted to the sheets in delight.
Despite his initiative, he didn't survive the pulling motion; he came in her in a repeat of the last two times. The divine pussy was too much for the mortal, but it was not a problem; Yelena's Lust didn't allow him to tap out. If anything, it reinvigorated him.
Like a beast, a bull, or a horse, he mated her in that position. His cum was overflowing from the sides, splashing his pelvis and her thighs.
Just a few minutes in, he had lost so much fluid that dehydration was becoming a real concern. However, this was also not a problem.
Yelena turned back and pushed Johnny to sit on his knees. She stood with her legs spread wide open over his dick. She brought her hands to her pussy and spread it open over his dick, and, not like it was needed, milked some of his cum out and lubed his dick with it.
Then she sat down hard on it. He came, as had been the norm so far.
In this position, Johnny had an easy reach for her breasts, which, as the man overflooded with lust he was, he did by reflex with his mouth. He sucked hard, and then he felt it, by a trickle at the start, nourish him.
Breast milk, divine breast milk infused with all that a goddess of lust needed for her partner to last.
It was a flavor so arousing that Johnny was sure he would have cum even if the slutty fox was not twerking over his cock.
With nourishment taken care of and with a brand of spells of her own design, Yelena and Johnny did not need to worry about anything else aside from sex.
In the floor below, as Susan and Ben prepared to have a serious talk with Reed Richards, when they stood outside his prison cell, and Susan gathered her resolve and opened her mouth to try a last attempt to break through Reed's stubborn obstinacy, she was interrupted by a rumbling and moaning coming from above.
"..." With a blush, trying to frown with anger, she looked above.
"I guess Yelena is back," Ben said with an uncomfortable chuckle. He was sure to tease Johnny afterward, if he survived, about how the mewling mess was coming from him and not hers.
"..." Reed cast a gaze upward and then dismissed it like unimportant news that a rooster was mating a hen.
Susan, who caught his dismissal, wondered if she had been a fool for pursuing this asexual being. She was certain she had seen him more excited when talking about the paradoxical implications of certain factors at the quantum scale on the asymmetry of the atoms of hydrogen than the time she 'forgot' she was wearing black laced lingerie and opened the door to her room when he knocked.
"Ben," she pleaded.
Ben Grimm grunted and walked to the control panel at the entrance of the hall. He tapped over the displayed holographic interface, and soon incoming soundwaves were muffled down to an inaudible whisper.
Susan sighed, her blush still present but dimming, "Reed," she said, then, "..." she lost her words. She didn't know where to begin.
There was the matter of the distrust.
Reed Richards had gone behind their back, appropriated funds from their company—which had been mostly funded by her and her brother at the start—and investors, for a project against a business partner—who was also the protector of Earth and a being beyond their collective comprehension—and also one of the aforementioned investors.
There was the matter of the stupidity of his actions.
He was convinced enough to think he, and only he, could grasp the limits of Aragorn. His conceit was such that he, with little proof, decided that Aragorn could be hurt, restricted, damaged, or sealed in the void with Realities.
There was the matter of the ignorance behind his efforts.
Without knowing what repercussions it would have to punch a hole through Reality and how that could affect not only the hole's immediate surroundings but the greater beyond, he designed and built the SIEVE. His arrogance was such that he didn't stop to consider the greater beyond because he recognized nothing beyond his limits.
However, what made her words drown themselves in her throat before uttering any scathing or accusing remark was his eyes, his body language, and his demeanor.
He didn't look ashamed, guilt-ridden, worried, or concerned. If anything, he looked expectant—whether expecting an apology and a report about the operation of the SIEVE, it was uncertain—cocky, and reproaching.
"Why do you..." Susan didn't know how to ask the question, and that uncertainty in her made Reed even more pleased with himself. Maybe in his world—which, as far as he knew, was the only world that mattered—she was stuttering around because she was having a hard time admitting she was wrong.
"Reed," Ben interjected, understanding the hesitation behind Susan's voice. "Even a dog knows when they made a mistake."
"... What?" Reed.exe stopped working.
"A dog can break something, or chew on a thing they shouldn't have, and they show remorse. You," Ben looked Reed up and down, "can't do what a dog can. Heh!" he scoffed, "a dog has better social skills than you."
Susan, seeing the growing confusion in the object of her admiration and crush, felt something break down and wash away like cotton sugar to water. She chuckled softly and then giggled, a few tears beading at the corners of her squinting eyes. These were not tears of sadness; it was pure joy and incredulity.
"Maybe hehehe!" she said amidst chuckles, "we should ask Aragorn to turn him into a dog." Her giggles stopped abruptly, her eyes turned dismissive, her smile became flat, listless, like she was looking at something she would not even put in her eyes.
Ben Grimm felt goosebumps spread over his arms, and Reed Richards, for the first time, recognized something had changed in Susan.
"Sue?" Reed asked. "What's wrong? What made you upset?"
"Reed," Susan said. There was coldness in her voice, not born from anger or hate, but indifference. "You're fired."
She tapped on her P-Link, and the cell's door opened.
"What?" Reed asked, his eyes opened wide.
"Ben, please escort Mr. Richards outside of the company's building," Susan commanded.
"Sus—"
"Mr. Richards!" Susan interrupted Reed. "Embezzlement is a serious crime. Conspiracy to commit murder is too."
Ben drew in a sharp breath.
"I expect you to sign the paperwork that will find its way to your desk tomorrow," Susan stated. "Understand that the inventions created by your hands with the company's funds are the property of the company. As such, I expect you'll have no qualms about walking out of this building with what you came with, your personal property."
Susan didn't give him the chance for a reply. She tapped her P-Link and teleported away.
"..." Almost slack-jawed, he turned to Ben. "Is this a joke? I understand I made her mad, but does she have to do this?"
"... You..." It was Ben's turn to be slack-jawed. "Reed, you idiot. You were fired, effective immediately. By the CEO of this company. This was not the atmosphere for a joke... this is reality, man!" He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, as if that could wake him up from his delusions.
"But, that's not possible!" Reed exclaimed, finally catching up to reality. "You can't do this to me!" He marched out of his cell, intending to make his way to Susan's room, where he figured he had teleported to. "I am this company... How will you survive without me?!"
"This is not the way, man!" Ben called out, following behind him. "Don't sink further into the pit!"
Ben reached out to his shoulder, intending to stop him, but Reed deformed his shoulder away from his grasp.
"Stop, Reed!" Ben shouted. "Don't make this worse for everybody!"
"For everybody?!" Reed turned and shouted in outrage. "These powers, your clothing, the cleaning bots, the proto-fabricators that feed you, the processor of the A.M. Sap, our flying car, the labs, the control system of the building, all of this is thanks to me! ME!"
His neck elongated with each word until he was inches away from Ben's face.
"Reed, stop it. Get some help," Ben said. He was trying to de-escalate the situation. "You think Sue would just do this for no reason? Do you think I would not be trying to stop you from harming yourself if I did not agree with her AND cared for you, man?"
For a moment, regret and maybe some maturity flickered in Reed's eyes, but then it was all washed away by anger. "Don't stand in my way, Ben!" he declared with a scathing look. "I'll talk to Susan and fix this... I'll fix her!"
Ben snarled in anger at the last remark and punched straight forward. A lightning-fast jab, and even then, before the jab reached Reed, he activated his powers.
The momentum of the hit deformed Reed's face as if it were liquid Oobleck.
"Stop it," Ben said icily. Red was trying to reform.
↓Part 4━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 4↓
"... You think I was wrong?" Reed asked, rightful fury simmering behind his words.
"You created the most deadly weapon in mankind's history, Reed!" Ben shouted. "You made something that can scar Reality, with a fuck-you capital R, Man!!!"
"So what!?! You think Aragorn could have even flinched at a fusion bomb?" Reed pushed back. "What other, feasible option do you think I had?"
"I don't know, maybe not trying to kill the man who saved our asses and the collective asses of all asses!" Ben roared. "Victor stick-up-his-ass Von Doom learned and grew from our almost death, but you, Man... Why are you even trying to kill him? What has he done to you that was so horrible you made that thing that could punch holes through the fabric of creation?!"
"Don't you see it?! Are you all blind?" Reed growled, half-mad, half-rage creeping at his shouts. "One country declares war, and the others are there to stop it. Agreements, coalitions, front, one side keeping the other in check. That is our way, that's how it's been and how it will be. But... Who is keeping him in check? Who will stand up to Aragorn when he acts up?"
"Oh, man, is that your excuse?!" Ben questioned, his voice rising with his disappointment.
"Excuse?" Reed fired back. "Tell me I'm wrong, Ben!"
"That's not the point, Reed!" Ben shouted. "Who the fucks know what can even stand up to Aragorn?! We are so fucking out of our league here that we can't even comprehend what he does, is, or thinks! So, no, you're not wrong, Reed!"
"Then—"
"BUT, come on!" Ben interjected. "Do you think you're the only one who could have thought that and realized the lack of balance?"
"... Yes?" Reed replied, doubtful.
"That's the problem! Your arrogance is the damned problem, Reed!" Ben clawed at his face as if it was too painful to watch, suggesting the alternative, gouging his eyes out, was preferable. "Aragorn is a monster; the monster even monsters fear. But you, you're only human, and yet... You saw the peak of his power, recognized its incredible height, and thought only you could reach it.
"You decided Aragorn needed a balancing agent, and you immediately concluded, without a doubt, that only you could oppose him—that only you could balance him out," Ben explained. "And if you can't understand how arrogant that is, then you're worse off than Sue gave you credit for."
"... Then what was I supposed to do?" Reed asked. "Johnny was poisoned by the fox; you would have never gone against who gave you your human form back, and Susan was so embroiled in his machinations that she might as well have been one of his.
"And Victor..." A pained expression followed, one of betrayal. "Victor betrayed me—us! Aragorn didn't say he was going to give him half of the world as a sign-in bonus; he gave him the whole damned thing! In a silver platter!!!"
"..." Ben had no word for that.
"..." Reed felt a clarity he had not felt in years, ever since that day Victor blew their experiment up.
'Yes,' he thought. 'I had no allies here. He bought them all after the first encounters... It was all too convenient... The maid to appeal to Johnny's foolishness, the opportunity to return to humanity to the traumatized Ben, the world to Victor, and, finally, Susan gained all the validation and respect she sought in others... It was all too convenient... Like... Like... As if his objective was isolating me... Did he see something in another Reality... Is that why he planned this?... What did he see?... Is that how he is always a step ahead?... Can I get that headstart too?... I need that headstart...'
Dangerous thoughts swirled in his mind; his heated argument was left behind in his priority list.
"Reed... Look, maybe you're right. Maybe, without knowing, we sequestered you. I'm sorry, Man, but... I think it's for the best if you take this time to calm down and think hard about what led to this," Ben said, with difficulty expressing his concerns.
"..." Reed's eyes focused back on the matter in question and said, " Ben... maybe you're right. I need to take a breather from the team."
"You do?" Ben's brows went up in surprise.
"I'll just walk away today, Ben," Reed said.
Confused, but glad about Reed's change in attitude, Ben didn't notice that Reed's mind was not there.
Ben deactivated his powers and helped Reed pack. Six hours later, a moving truck rolled out with Reed and his stuff.
Something gnawed at the back of Ben's head; something about the ordeal went smoother than anticipated, but he didn't know what.
He took the elevator up and went to Susan's room. He knocked twice and then received no reply. He figured Susan must have cried herself asleep and returned to his room. He was just as tired, if not more.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
Deerfield, Illinois.
Bamf
In a cloud of interdimensional brimstone, Carmen and Theresa Pryde appear at the entrance of their home, accompanied by a blue, teleporting devil teen.
Kurt Wagner's friendship with Katheryne Pryde edged the territory of siblinghood. As such, even when he knew about the many countermeasures and protections Kitty had left for her parents, he believed it was his responsibility to look out for them.
Hence, as soon as the cocoons of the Arbor Mundi's roots began to open and release the humans, he was there to greet them and take them back to their home, safe and sound. He had no problem doing this much; it's what Kitty would have done for him... if, you know, his parents (mothers) were not who they were.
Almost in unison, Carmen and Theresa Pryde sighed in relief. Their house was in one piece.
"We have a roof above our heads tonight," Theresa commented, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.
"I thought all was lost when... You know," Carmen added.
Humanity, luckily—for their sanity—had not witnessed the confrontation's latter stages, but what they had seen painted a horrible picture of the fight's consequences.
"Maybe it was contained to Re-Nazca and teh few cities ravaged by the heretic gods," Theresa said.
"Ehm, Mrs. Pryde," Kurt interjected.
"Kurt?" Asked the woman.
"It was all fixed," he explained.
"Fixed?" asked Carmen.
"Yes, Mr. Carmen," Kurt affirmed. He tapped his P-Link, and a projection of the before and after of Earth was shown. "Mr. Magneto was worried we would never recover."
With a silent gasp, Theresa covered her mouth and extended her free hand to her husband for emotional support.
"Was it fixed by him?" Asked Carmen, a certain coldness crept into his voice.
"I don't know, Mr. Carmen," Kurt admitted. "Let me ask."
A message was written and sent with a tap of the P-Link, and shortly after, a reply was received.
Since Kurt was projecting his screen, and since he didn't care much about privacy for a group conversation, they all read it at the same time.
⌈DarthKitty: I'll be there!⌋
"Huh?" Kurt tilted his head in confusion.
Carmen and Theresa tensed slightly; their handholding became firmer.
"It means I'm coming over, silly devil," Kitty whispered to his left ear.
"KYAAAAAAH!" Kurt shrilled. He bamfed out in reflex. He appeared atop the house, peeking from behind the roof eaves.
To be fair with the manly macho blue devil, what freaked him out was that Kitty wriggled her tails around him and broadcast to his mind a few tentacle play doujinshi.
"For that, I'm keeping your lightsaber!" Kurt shouted to the giggling goddess before teleporting back to the ground.
"Hahahaha! I missed you, too, Kurt!" Kitty laughed and hugged him in greeting.
"Filthy cat," Kurt muttered during the hug. He then looked at her, up and down, and asked, "Just a few extra tails? Didn't you say you'd return made a voluptuous onee-sama?"
"How rude! Don't see a clear onee-sama here, standing in front of you?" Kitty asked, throwing her nose up, like a coincided pussy.
"Katherine," Theresa interrupted, before allowing the two to continue.
"... I'm back, Mom," Kitty said, scolding her madened expressions. "I missed you and Dad while I was away."
"... You look... alright?" Carmen pointed out.
There was a wall between them, something that blocked them from sharing a hug as the devil and cat had done. There was an awkwardness to them.
Their partying had been less than stellar. Additionally, they could feel it; there was something fundamentally different about their daughter; for some unknown reason, they didn't feel like they could scold her like they used to.
"It was a fruitful... exchange program," Kitty said with a crooked smile. "I learned, grew, changed, and more, and I think I'm a better person for it all."
"Maybe you should tell your parents more about it inside," Kurt gestured at the house's entrance.
The small family of three plus one exchanged gazes and nodded.
They entered expecting their 'treasures' to be messed up by all the shaking the planet had suffered, but, true to Kurt's words, they discovered nothing was broken, misplaced, or damaged.
"Leave dinner to Kurt and me," Kitty called out and waited for no answer, making her way to the kitchen.
The parents, used to the spontaneous energy of their daughter, nodded and went to set the table and make a round, making sure everything was alright; they didn't trust the heretic miracles.
In teh kitchen, Kurt approached the cat and asked, "Since when do you know how to cook?"
"Hey, I'm a 300,000-year-old cat now, do you think I didn't pick a skill or two in the past eras?" Kitty asked in a tone of fake offense.
Kurt gave her a cursory glance and shook his head. "Not cooking," he denied. "Maybe if it were a magic spell or some weird Aragorn-high-tech gimmick. Last year, didn't you burn some pasta while boiling it?"
"Hey! I already explained what happened!" Kitty protested, her nine tails swaying wildly in offense. "I was bored of waiting for it to be done, so I took a quick shower. How was I supposed to know that water boiled down that fast?"
Kurt didn't feel his input was needed, aside from a judging gaze, so he rested his case.
"Fine," Kitty, begrudgingly, pulled something like a barista coffee machine from her storage. Instead of switches and knobs, it had a single holographic panel that controlled its functions.
"This is..." Kurt tilted his head in confusion. Kitty didn't answer, allowing him to come up with a conclusion by himself. "An Organic Fabricator? But it's so different... How many models ahead is this one than the one at The Crystal's main kitchen?"
"Technically, not that many," Kitty said. "This one was created by my believers some millennia ago, but Aragorn's original fabricators were too over the top, so that's why you were able to recognize it."
"When you use millennia in a sentence like that," Kurt chuckled mockingly, "it makes you sound like one of Aragorn's cultivators."
"You dare mock this Divinity?!" Kitty raised her voice with outrage and indignation. "Worm who believes it can reach the divine feathers of this heavens-soaring hawk!"
"Hahahaha!" Kurt laughed while approaching the fabricator like one does a new smartphone, to try and find out what made it so much more expensive. "I think you should have called yourself something like a 'heavens-defying feline of grace unequal'," he added.
"Ugh, you're right," Kitty collapsed over the kitchen counter. "I've been so out of practice, I need to cultivator-speak with Aragorn."
"Too many 'divine' responsibilities?" Kurt asked, trying to mask his curiosity and concern from his voice.
"Don't worry, my blue little brother," Kitty said, the last words with a mocking undertone, and wrapped a tail around his shoulders in an overly friendly manner. "I'll tell and show you all about this goddess' exploits! I'll even give you a tour around my Cat's Eye star system if you play your cards right."
"A star system?!" Kurt asked, shocked.
"Yep, yep," Kitty said, her nose—again—piercing the heavens. "Now, come, let me show you how to operate this retro beauty. These new models don't use that eldritch batter Aragorn used as material. So long as it's liquid at room temperature, any liquid works."
"Any liquid? Even water?" Kurt asked, amazed.
"Even divine piss from this pussy," Kitty replied.
"... I'll unpicture what I didn't need a mental image of," Kurt said, a shiver coursing through his spine.
Amidst friendly chatter and joking, Kitty and Kurt fabricated a sumptuous dinner that cost them just a few gallons of water.
With Kurt's and her telekinesis' help, Kitty carried the food to the table and served it.
"This," Theresa's eyes were glazed in awe.
"I left the fabricator in the kitchen, Mom," Kitty said. "It consumes water, and you don't need to worry about fuel."
"Is that one of Aragorn's?" Carmen asked, Aragorn's name coming out of his mouth sharply.
"No, this one was made by my... believers," Kitty replied.
The clatter of the kitchenware stopped for a moment; a heavy silence was the only development.
"... Your believers?" Carmen asked.
"More numerous than humans," Kitty added. "Nine fully terraformed planets' worth of believers."
"... Are you claiming to be a heretic god, Katherine Anne Pryde?" Theresa demanded an answer.
"Yahweh supports my pantheon," Kitty dropped another bomb.
"WHAT?!" Carmen shouted in outrage. To him, his daughter was using His name in vain.
Kitty, through Kurt's assistance, had trickled down some information to her parents, so they had a general idea of what Aragorn had 'taken' their daughter for. Additionally, they also had a widely superficial understanding of what Aragorn was.
But this was all too much.
"The Drachantheon Therion," Kitty stated. She was facing down at her plate. "I'm Katherine Pryde, Goddess of Laws and Emancipation/Adventure. The highest regional authority in the Cat's Eye System."
Her divinity seeped out, doing that thing where a higher form of life forces acknowledgement onto a lower lifeform.
She had told Aragorn that she was going to rawdog it. She didn't want to lie to herself or her family. Whatever happens, will happen, she told herself.
"..." She raised her face and saw for the first time her parents' worry-laden faces. She allowed her empathy to catch their feelings.
Kurt looked anxiously from Kitty—his sister in all but blood—to her parents—his role models in countless instances.
The silence extended, and after a few seconds, Theresa had tears streaking her cheeks.
'Say something else, Kitty,' Kurt projected his thoughts, how Kitty and Aragorn had taught him to do.
'I don't know what else to say,' Kitty replied in his mind.
'Try something softer, I think Mrs. Pryde needs some reassurance, I don't know about Mr. Pryde, though,' Kurt shared what little wisdom he had as a third party.
Kitty mulled over Kurt's advice and then added, "And I'm Theresa and Carmen Pryde's daughter. Same Kitty as always, just with some extra tails and a few extra paragraphs added to my flavor text."
"..." With a sigh, Carmen returned to his chair, and Theresa followed after.
The rest of the dinner was silent. It couldn't be called an uncomfortable silence; it was more a silence loaded with the unspoken thoughts of both parents.
After doing the dishes with her telekinesis, her parents bid her goodnight and decided they needed some time to think.
Kitty, regardless of how maniacal she was, understood and respected the boundaries her parents needed. She left for The Crystal with Kurt.
"It went better than expected," Kurt commented as they flew out of Earth's atmosphere. Kitty decided to take the scenic route.
"Yeah," Kitty nodded. "Your advice was a lifesaver, Kurt."
He nodded in appreciation of her thanks.
"I can hook you up with a few of my nieces, in gratitude for the assist," Kitty said with a spark to her eyes.
"I don't need your help with that," Kurt scoffed.
"Yeah, virgin boy," Kitty mocked.
"Oh, so you have, you know... With whom?" Kurt asked like a gossipy best girlfriend.
"Let me tell you about it," Kitty grinned. She wanted to gossip and show off. She needed to blow some steam. "It all started when I almost became the Goddess of Chastity and/or Purity!"
"That can't be!" Kurt exclaimed.
"Yep, yep, scary times, those were," Kitty nodded sagely.
While Kitty retold her adventures and coached Kurt in the ins and outs that he ignored, down on Earth, back at the base of the Arbor Mundi, Jean and Pietro visited Aragorn and Irina.
"You couldn't find his soul?" Aragorn, confusion cycling through his starry eyes.
"We tried to pull Hart's soul, but it was not in the Umbradimension," Pietro said.
"Do you think we could borrow Bucky?" Jean asked, anxious.
"... Yeah," Aragorn nodded. "Take Yao with you, too."
Jean and Pietro exchanged confused glances.
"Master, Old Man?" Pietro asked.
"De wee need that much firepower, I'll be there, too," Jean added.
"Saturnyne came by to drop a few concerning omens," Irina explained. "It's just a precaution, Jean."
"I think you should move in trios for the time being," Aragorn said. "Until I get my body back, at least."
Jean and Pietro nodded before departing for the Halo.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
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{A/N:
Please check out my P@treon account! There are already 10 chapters ahead for premium members, which is at least 100,000 words. Premium members also gain access to a new chapter every week.
[email protected]/ExistentialVoid
Free Members get access to all free chapters, and I upload free chapters about 12 hours earlier on P@atreon.}
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