This work is a piece of fiction. While it may be inspired by real events, cultures, and practices in human history, the story blends factual history with fictional characters, dramatizations, and creative interpretation.
It is not intended to promote, glorify, or encourage any illegal activities, substance use, or harmful behavior. All depictions of sensitive topics are included solely for narrative and historical context, and are not intended to be offensive or provocative.
For the effects of the story, all characters are to be considered above the age of majority.
Reader discretion is advised.
————————————————
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Earth-5H1N3, Arbor Mundi, Year 2001.
With a quick application of casting a phanton image of a section of space, Fury observed his reflection.
Sky-blue eyes so bright that for a moment, he thought glares of light were reflecting as they do on a mirror. His white hair was so clear that he had only seen such on mutants and some of the Therions.
He removed his eyepatch slowly, with trembling hands, and saw that his left and right eyes matched.
Robotically, he brought his hands to his eyebrows and traced the now stark white brows with his trembling fingers. Then took a handful of his wavy hair, not his old afro, but wavy hair, and pulled, making sure it was real. He paid close attention to his white eyelashes and then glanced down.
He pulled at his belt and peeked down, with trepidation, at his crotch. He closed his eyes and looked at the heavens, sighed, and looked down again, only to close his eyes and let go of his belt.
"... Why?" Fury asked, his voice quivering.
"Do you not like it?" Aragorn acted oblivious, but the golden stars in his eyes betrayed his act.
"..." Fury didn't deign him an answer; he stared, his eyes penetrating and deep like the sky.
"..." Aragorn beamed him a smile in reply.
"S-Sir," Coulson called out. "The contrast between your hair and skin tone gives you character."
Fury, mechanically, turned to Coulson, his deep eyes shaking the agent's calm.
"I wear a black leather trench coat, do you think I needed this type of 'character', Coulson?" Fury rhetorically asked.
"Sir, your eyes are beautiful," Coulson added, trying to salvage his skin.
Fury shivered all over before looking away from his agent and returning his deadpan stare to Aragorn.
"The best part, these traits are not genetic mutations like the X-Gene," Aragorn commented, as if oblivious to Fury's mood. "I changed the sections of your life code in charge of your hair and eyes. Meaning, these are hereditary."
"You..." Fury gave up on his retort.
"I added a slight enhancement to your eyesight, too," Aragorn added. "Not quite night vision, but close enough. Not quite telecospic vision, but good enough."
"..." Fury was still trying to determine if a reply was worth it, and if it was, what sort of reply could he even formulate.
"Praise me," Aragorn shamelessly demanded.
"... Is the hair in my ass white?" Fury asked.
"... All of your hair is white," Aragorn said while gesturing to his forearm.
Fury pulled the sleeve upward and saw the hair in his forearm look as if frosting had accumulated over it.
"Even the hair in your back," Aragorn helpfully added. "I'll allow you to title yourself 'Fury, the Silverback.'"
"Why don't I call myself the Reverse Albino Nigga?!" Fury spat.
"Hah!" Aragorn scoffed. "Leave it to darker humans to be the most racist against their similars."
"Fuck off!" Fury exclaimed.
"Hehehehe," Argaorn chuckled. "I also modified your hair. It can now store magical energy. I advise you not to cut it."
"Y-You pulled that shit only so that I don't shave it," Fury groaned.
"Hehehehe," Aragorn giggled. "Hey, I know my hair is not white, but now we match. And Yao, Emma, Mindee, Gaea, Spark, Daria, Elyseas, Slava, and a few of their future children. You're one of us now."
"@$#^$@!" A weird sound of frustration that Coulson had never heard from him escaped him.
"Hey, if you ask me, you look dandy and handsome," Aragorn said, amidst chuckles. "I know your job and paranoia basically make you single for life, but I can assure you the females will be interested in this dashing new Fury. You can ask CoverGirl. Heck, I'm even tempted to call you my chocolate man."
"@#$@#$@#" Fury hurled his breakfast into the divine lake, and Aragorn exploded in laughter.
The shock was so great that he passed out.
In the end, Coulson did have to carry him away, even if the pocket dimension was not chained to him.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
Earth-5H1N3, ???, Year 2001.
"Mindless repetition expecting different results is insanity."
"What does a mortal know of insanity? Can a mortal comprehend insanity in the short span of their fading life?"
"This is the basics. If a mortal comprehends it, you should be ashamed of your ignorance."
"Watch your words, mortal!"
"We've been through this already. You can't kill me; you need my body. You can't mold my [Spirit], Aragorn sealed it. You can't do anything to me."
"I control your body, I am the master of your vessel."
"Yeah? And so what? You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you. As I said, that has already been discussed. This repetition is also insane."
"Insanity... You couldn't recognize it even if the Progeny of the Outside had programmed it in your mind."
"Oh, you entities and your lofty ideas of the limits of mortals. I don't need your eons of age to know that if you failed once, following the same path would not lead to a different result."
"THIS IS A DIFFERENT PATH!"
"OH, REALLY?! THEN ELIGHTEN ME!"
"... I will not go for the multiverse until I have claimed dominion over this Reality. And, this time, I have assistance."
"You think Thanos is going to assist you?"
"Why would he not? You saw what seeing that recreation of Death did to his already warped mind."
"Yes, but your end goals couldn't be different; your paths only run parallel for a few miles before diverging greatly. The moment you take over the underworlds, Death will stop existing in this Reality, and the concept itself will be voided."
"But he will not anticipate that."
"I hate to repeat myself, but you are underestimating mortals."
"You ignorant child, how hard is it to comprehend that Thanos' only purpose is to distract the Paradox? It doesn't matter if he discovers the truth or not; just by amassing power, he has turned into the Paradox's target."
"... I can understand the logic behind that, but still, I don't believe you're approaching this as you should."
"And what do you know about the Greater Cosmology, mortal?! What arcane knowledge I ignore, you possess, is granting you the confidence to argue against my plotting?!"
"I was the Phoenix Force's Host attendant, and she is one of the closest beings to Aragorn. What I know may be second-hand knowledge, but with that monster being the source, it might as well be facts."
"You don't know what you speak of!"
"Then forget I opened my noisy mouth! Go ahead, eat, digest, and grow."
Darkness as far as it could be sensed, shadows so abyssmal their essence might be inexistence, the voices—which could be called that only by the faintest understanding of the definition—echoed and folded onto themselves.
Emptiness could be understood as the diametrically opposing extremes of a spectrum that encompasses from the [Nothing] to the [All].
If light could be equalled to the [All] and darkness to the [Nothing], then brilliance so bright it was white could be both All and Nothing, same as umbra so dark it was black could.
However, unlike the emptiness of The Void, that which Aragorn often associated with whiteness, the emptiness of this void was a penumbra of total blackness.
It was so dark that this being of shadows had all the reason to claim that mortals knew naught of insanity, because this darkness itself induced madness with its unmeasurable depth.
In this realm of shadows, a small window to Reality opened up. With a heavy mist of black parting way for the light of existence, the realm was momentarily illuminated.
These intruding rays of light coming from the side of existence cast a shine that revealed the inhabitants of the realm of shadows.
Sharra, K'ythri, the deities of the Shi'ar, Lilith, the mother of demons, Ares, Poseidon, and even Zeus from the Olympians, were some of the most recognizable figures. But these were a few of the grains of sand among the horde.
At some point, the Therions and Aragorn had concluded that most of Omnipontence City was rallying behind Odin. They were proven right when Pietro sensed a myriad divinities coursing through the Destroyer Armor.
After Odin was defeated, and Kubos subsequently, and the only deities they spotted invading Earth were those who had their origins tied to Earth, Aragorn and the Therions assumed that either the other deities, those foreign to Earth, had been tired out by the consumption of divinity of the Destroyer Armor, or they had chosen to wisely stay away from the planet protected by the monster that ended a Beyonder.
Given that Jean defeated the deities of the Shi'ar, they assumed this would only fuel their possible apprehension about invading Earth. It was doubtful a deity existed who could claim a calm heart at the prospect of facing Aragorn and Jean at once.
But this was far from the truth.
Well, not exactly.
Certainly, seeing how Aragorn almost destroyed the Universe in his pursuit of Kubos, many of them planned to abandon ship and return to their realms.
As tempting as Nirn and Earth were, it was not worth facing Aragorn, and Jean's return cemented this fact for them.
But, before they could act upon this, the shadows below them swallowed them.
Some managed to escape, but would they inform their fellow deities? No, the divine were not like that. They preferred to hunker down in their realms and hide from whatever it was that kept ambushing them.
But it wasn't enough.
If they wanted to consume as many deities as possible, they could not allow Aragorn to find them prematurely. So, they steered things from the shadows, literally, and created certain seeds of distraction that would, and did, keep Aragorn busy. Too busy to check on the alien divinities.
Their goal was never James Jaspers, or Matthew Malloy, or any of the other red flags Aragorn took care of. The goal was impossibly simple—a distraction, one of planetary proportions.
So, when the light of Reality pierced the world of shadows, countless divinities of all forms and colors were found enthralled by the power of the shadows.
Some were vaguely humanoid, others amorphous, a few abstractly shaped, and more than one shaped like monsters born from the darkest, most twisted nightmares.
They had not only dealt with the alien deities but also absorbed their realms, ate their soul repositories, and then enslaved them.
All that they killed became part of their horde, their undying army, their shadow army.
But, as smoothly as it had been a ride, they were on a timer. Aragorn was slowly recovering, and they found no joy in the prospect of facing him in battle.
So the time to make a move on the deities of Earth arrived, as they did not want them to ally with the Drachantheon Therion.
The first pantheon to suffer from their advance was the Shinto.
Maybe it was personal, maybe it was convenience, but since, after returning to Earth, they had been one of the few pantheons who had staked a claim more firmly, while also weakened greatly with the death of one of their main combat forces—Susanoo—they fell first to the shadows.
Izanagi and his two surviving progeny, Amaterasu-Omikami and Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto, barely managed to react in time to avoid a fatal wound from their hostile shadows.
But it was all for nothing, because upon the consumption of the rest of their pantheon, the shadows grew exponentially in power, and they were unable to avoid the second strike.
From the Gaelic deities, only Lugh Lámhfhada with his spear that never missed, Nuada Airgetlám with his sword that no one could escape, and the Morrigan mounted a semblance of resistance. It proved to be an exercise of futility since the shadows ate their divine realm.
A day after the fall of the Maya Pantheon, the absence of communication from the fallen divine realms rang warning alarms, and some of Earth's deities began to retreat to their realms and hide from the unknown that was hunting them.
Murmurs of Aragorn being responsible for the attacks spread, but he had been confirmed at the base of the Arbor Mundi multiple times, and when they saw him fight against the darkened waters, and certainly not eat Ares or Poseidon, they realized another unknown was responsible for the disappearances.
A few of them, those who wielded wisdom as a concept, thought of informing Aragorn, or the Drachantheon Therion, of the occurrences, but they gave up on the idea quickly due to the terror Aragorn's past actions inflicted on them.
And so, with a few exceptions, like the Aesir, Vanir, Ennead, and some others, most of the deities of Earth became part of the shadows.
As the opening of light cracked apart an exit, the destination, the target on the other side, became clearer.
It was not a world ruled by logic and physics; it was not order, or even chaos; it was not the world of the awake, it was the world of the dreaming.
When Dimensional Lords clash within their dimensions, it's not a battle of power and might; it's a contest between dimensions.
It's less of a brawl and more of a collision of worlds.
The opening between the Dream Dimension and the Shadow World warped, pulsed, and then exploded beyond the mundane three-dimensional bounds.
Dreams invaded the shadows, and the umbra ate at the dreams.
"CHAOS KING!" Nightmare's howl of wrath shook the inflexion planes between the two dimensions.
"Fear Lord, come, accept the void which predates Creation, and let's march as one against the Progeny from Beyond the Far Shore!" The Chaos King, in Harry Hart's body, replied with a cadence of listlessness, as if the Fear Lord were beneath him.
The divine thralls, the deities enslaved by the shadows, shot forth towards the nearest inflexion plane and invaded the Dream Dimension.
Nightmares and dreams alike, under the authority of Nightmare, rushed like a tsunami of cosmic proportions to meet the divine stampede.
A few dreams dressed like Superman clashed against the war deities of alien civilizations. Dreaming of yourself as Superman was a fairly common dream among humans.
Some deities of death joined hands to partially manifest a death realm. The nightmares, which many of them were shaped like the Goblin Force or monsterized Green Doors, rose to meet their match in these deities.
Some nightmares were as nightmarishly mundane as a nightmare could get; the usual tentacle monster, Cthulu, fangs, and claws, plenty-eyed, many-mouthed, others took the shape of folklore evils, and a few were humans, those who could cause nightmares in others.
Many assumed the form of the Many-Angled Ones, those eldritch abominations that caused cognitive damage upon witnessing them.
And, curiously enough, Aragorn, in all of his forms and personas, appeared plenty as a nightmare and as a dream.
The dreams and nightmares were basically infinite.
"WITNESS IT. DESPAIR FROM IT. ENVY IT. FOR YOU SHALL NEVER COMPREHEND THE VASTNESS OF MY REALM!" Nightmare roared, and he walked through the warped and twisted Dream Dimension and menacingly approached the plane of inflexion separating the Chaos King and him.
"Before the mortals, divine, demidivine, and immortals could ever dream, before they could ever fear a nightmare, before matter was matter and energy was energy, before concepts existed, before it all... I WAS!" The Chaos King, unafraid, walked to meet the Fear Lord at the plane of inflexion.
Both entities, a Fear Lord who became a Dimensional Lord, and an offshoot of Oblivion who once destroyed over 90% of the multiverse, walked with inevitability.
The distance shrank, and both entities shot forth into a path of ineluctable collision.
The Shadow World lagged behind the Chaos King. The Dream Dimension changed shapes to follow behind its lord.
The sound of dreams and nightmares clashing against shadows was not conceptually explainable.
Lesser minds could not understand the sound of the dimensional barriers churning at the inflexion planes.
↓Part 2━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 2↓
Arbor Mundi.
When Aragorn had recently arrived on Earth, when he first interacted with humans and was still wearing the mortal disguise, he used to emote visibly with not only his color-changing eyes.
As he got closer to his maids and created a tight group, a family in all but blood, he stopped faking his expression less and less. After spending hundreds of thousands of years among humanity and the Duskari, he stopped emoting altogether for mortals.
Fury, unknowingly, became an exception to his listlessness.
He could zap Stark for being cheeky without a single flinch, he could plot with Doom the conquest of Earth with only his eyes emoting, and he could interact with almost all mortals and would rarely show any emotion with anything but the color of his eyes.
Beyond his blatant racism, Aragorn saw no value in emoting for mortals who were, most of the time, inconsequential to him.
So, it could be understood that, although out of character, Aragon had been authentic when he interacted with Fury a few hours ago.
He genuinely enjoyed Fury's reaction to his little prank, and he was mirthful about having made him pass out.
In a good mood, Aragorn decided to enjoy his afternoon.
He spared a fraction of his attention to the portal before nodding to himself.
The area directly above the Domed Capital City of Re-Nazca was the Arbor Mundi, and given that it was an island within the Divine Lake, this same body of water was above the domed city.
Although the domed city was in such a privileged location, it saw little of the expected benefits. Initially, from the ceiling of the domed city, waterfalls fell like pillars of light atop the city, giving it an ethereal vibe; however, after the impossibly giant tree began to capture the gaseous water from the clouds above and the humid winds from the Pacific Ocean, the lake grew in size.
If it were not for the interference of Aragorn 'Abner', the domed city would have flooded.
His solution was simple for him; he sealed the ceiling in a way that the only access points to the city were the subways and a ramp that exited beyond the barrier isolating the Arbor Mundi, hence, the domed city was not blessed by all the divinity in the water and air around the tree.
That sealing separating the domed city from the ground above and the tree granted Aragorn considerable freedom in what he wanted to do.
He reached with a hand encircled by soft green magic bands to the tree, and this one responded by growing a root to his hand.
The root, like a friendly and well-behaved snake, coiled around his extended arm and wrapped around his neck, torso, and legs.
Aragorn focused his biokinesis into the Arbor Mundi.
Most of the energy coursing through the tree was—absurdly—Aragorn's. To the tree, due to this familiarity between them, Aragorn was akin to a partner in a symbiotic relationship. This, along with Aragorn's biokinesis and ergokinesis, manifested in the tree acting like clay in his hands.
From the kilometric boughs of the Arbor Mundi high above the first layers of clouds, vines of a translucent pale green descended.
From below the bottom of the Divine Lake, thick roots of a translucent brown rose to meet these vines.
The vines descended fast, displacing air like falling meteors, and the roots ascended with the patience of a mountain.
At the points of greeting between these two fronts of heaven and Earth, large inert rocks teleported unannounced.
The roots pierced from below through the centers of mass of these rocks, and the vines did the same from above.
The rocks were secured in positions at varying heights around the Arbor Mundi, none of them higher than the lowest limb. The rocks were set in a way that it was not impossible to bridge the islands from one to another, creating an intricate arrangement.
Pleased with the results, he sent a final pulse through the Arborb Mundi, and the vines guided a fraction of Gaea's divinity stored inside the tree. The moment the divine energy blessed the inert rocks—which were Asteroids Aragorn had saved in his storage, because why not—these flourished with fertile soil and green.
'What do you think?' Aragorn asked in the mind of the Majestrix, who had been staring from the comfort of her place of power.
'My Lord, do I take this as your permission for the locals to migrate to your Reality?' The Majestrix asked.
'So long as they don't exit the barrier isolating this land, they can even move to the Arbor Mundi itself, if it accepts them.' Though Aragorn said this, he thought it highly unlikely.
The Arbor Mundi was a monster of a creation, one that was far greater than Gaea, as it was evidenced when it put on a semblance of resistance against Kubos when anyone else aside from Aragorn was trampled by him.
While lacking in conscious thought, the Arbor Mundi is a plant, and like all lifeforms from the kingdom Plantae, it has its ways of protecting itself.
The Arbor Mundi did not register the Therions and their guests as harmful invaders because they had been keyed in by its creators. Which is why he doubted it would allow anyone to access its trunk and canopy.
This was the same reason Aragorn was expectantly waiting to see what the humans would do to harvest its sap once they stopped tripping over themselves, and they decided to harvest from the offshoot in the Pacific.
'Why did you prepare land for them, my Lord?' The Majestrix allowed her curiosity to speak in her stead.
'I had no reason for it.' Aragorn's response was unexpected to the Majestrix.
'Excuse me, my Lord?' The Majestrix asked, bewildered.
'Well, I know you think I plan all of my big moves, and that is not entirely false, but this time I did it just because I thought it would look... fantastical.'
'Fantastical?' The Majetrix parroted.
'Maybe, to my All-seeing eyes, and to yours which monitor the multiverse, there's little to none that could be considered fantastical,' Aragorn explained. 'I observe something which caught my eye, and my mind immediately generates over a trillion related memories. It's hard to appreciate things like that.'
'... I... It has been a long time since I observed something that stirred such emotion in me,' the Majestrix replied after a moment of consideration.
'Yep, I know,' Argorn nodded. 'But look at this,' he gestured with his arms—which the tree had freed after Aragorn was done landscaping—at the scenery.
'A tree of translucent, crystal-like constitution, filled with divinity and my energy. So large it created a localized climate. Water condensed from the clouds above runs down its vines and trunk. A trunk so wide, a canopy so massive, the captured water runs down in rivers that cascade with the trunk and vines.
'The water feeds the Divine Lake, and now the floating islands, and it creates this mirror-like effect that draws the eye. Surrounding this massive tree, we now have the Floating Islands hoisted up by a single root each, and hanging by the green translucent vines.
'I don't know if you remember the time before you were powerful, before the world lost its shine, when you lived eagerly, but I do remember a time when this all would have evoked more than just exhilaration in me,' Aragorn said.
'... My Lord? How is that possible?' The Majestrix asked.
'Unlike many of my peers—basically all of them—I was not born Absolute. I turned Absolute.' It was clear to the Majestrix that he would not provide more explanation than that.
Aragorn cut the connection off and threw a glance at the portal to Otherworld. With a swing from his tail, the 'Keep out' field he had set on it vanished.
It was about an hour and a quarter later that the first new residents arrived, a pair of dark blue birds with smoking wings, literally.
Aragorn traced the birds with his sight as they flew above the Divine Lake, through a few small waterfalls that had started falling from the Floating Islands after the water raining down from the vines had overflowed, and then set at a small tree—by comparison with the Arbor Mundi—near one of the outer shores of the lake.
Sometimes, it is a peaceful life, Aragorn thought.
In the attosecond this thought had to enjoy its inception in Aragorn's mind, Aragorn received a panicked communication from Seraph through his System and Mind.
'FATHER! SOMETHING IS HAPPENING IN THE DREAM DIMENSION.'
⌈RampagingCortana: ALERT. DREAM DIMENSION!!!⌋
Below the shell covering his flaming body, hundreds of eyes snapped open and focused on the location he remembered for the Dream Dimension. Yet, he didn't find it.
'I can't locate it. What's the channel of information?'
If Seraph alerted him, then he assumed she was witnessing it happen, sensed something wrong with it due to her connection to Dreams as the Goddess of Wisdom and Dreams, or was informed through another method.
'Nightmare sent Dreamqueen to my dreamscape after the clash started.' The dreamscape was the reverse world of the mindscape. For a goddess of dreams like Seraph, the dreamscape was as important as a mindscape.
'You allowed her into your dreamscape?' Aragorn asked, worried.
'She was subjugated immediately.' Seraph's reply came with lots of smug happiness and mirth, pleased with herself.
'What is happening?' Aragorn asked.
'Dreamqueen said that Chaos King is the shadowy guy, and he attacked her father's dimension with a host of shadows of all the deities we had not seen.'
'Fuck.' Aragorn replied.
The Chaos King was a being that, at his peak, managed to destroy most of the multiverse. Aragorn was in no state to fight against a nigh-multiversal entity.
'I'll go assist Nightmare,' Aragorn informed.
Before he could close the channel, Seraph's panicked voice shouted in his mind, 'NO! YOU, SPECIALLY YOU, CAN'T!'
'... What? Why not?' Aragorn asked, coming to a stop.
'Dreamqueen said that your mind would automatically collapse the Dreamtime and fuse it with the waking world,' Seraph painted an apocalyptic picture. 'As a Goddess of Wisdom and Dreams, I can assure you she is not wrong.'
'... Fuck.'
'... I'll go, Father.' Seraph's declaration was met with a rotund 'No.'
'Father, it's the only way. At least, I can ensure the Dream Dimension is separated from the Dreamtime,' Seraph argued with facts.
The Dream Dimension was the collective unconscious of humanity; the Dreamtime was the collective unconscious of all dreaming life in Reality. There was an obvious difference between what their respective collapses meant.
'... Take whatever you need.' Aragorn reluctantly agreed.
'I will be careful, Father,' Seraph assured with all of her :Love: behind her message. 'I'll make sure to kill myself before Chaos King can reach me.'
'... If something happens to you... I'll summon my body from the strata above this one. Even if it means the collapse of this Reality,' Aragorn threatened.
'... ... ... I know, Father.' All Seraph could think about was the weight of her Father's love.
↓Part 3━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 3↓
Dream Dimension.
Dimensions, most of them, were not stationary bubbles of space-time, or fixed on orbital trajectories like planets are around a star; in fact, dimensions did not even have a fixed shape. Otherwise, if dimensions could be represented by polyhedra, then it would be impossible for so many of them to be superimposed on Reality.
Due to stability and energy consumption, regardless of their free, formless nature, rarely did dimensions stray from their preferred location.
Hence, it was so strange to see the Shadow World clash and deform against the Dream Dimension.
The dimensions were crashing and breaking upon each other, and, unlike a vehicular collision, where the destruction was caused by the kinetic energy traveling from the point of impact to the rest of the vehicles, these dimensions were colliding all at once.
Still, Dreamqueen managed to locate a relatively safe location to summon Seraph.
"We don't have much longer," Dreamqueen urged.
Her intrinsic connection with the Dream Dimension allowed her to understand that the Shadow World was engulfing the smaller Dream Dimension and strangling it.
The Dream Dimension represented the collective unconscious of humanity, the Shadow World represented the absence of light in the Universe; of the two, which one is more massive and solid? The answer is quite obvious.
Additionally, while Nightmare was individually unchallenged, Chaos King was not alone.
"Nightmare is putting up a more formidable resistance than projected," Seraph clinically commented.
"Dreams can only go as far as the mind of the dreamers, and the representation of their dreams is normally tied to their understanding of their aim," Dreamqueen commented while getting ready to open the door to the outside of the Dream Dimension, the Dreamtime.
"I know that," Seraph commented while her senses picked up the billions of dreams and nightmares making a suicidal charge against the enthralled Shadow Army. "Between two people dreaming of the same object, the one with the best understanding of it, or imagination, will dream the more solid dream construct. What does this have to do with this?"
"Simple. The strongest dreams and nightmares tend to come from deities, and in this case, the Drachantheon Therion, with the clearest understanding of the Phoenix Force, Lady Death, and Paradox, granted my father the strongest, most solid dream constructs," Dreamqueen revealed.
Seraph had already noticed that there were multiple dream constructs of Aragorn, as he was impossibly well-known by humanity, but, upon closer attention, she noticed that a few of the dream constructs were particularly stronger, and she spotted the few others representing her mother and aunt.
Normally, while taxing, for Dreamqueen, it was a simple matter to open the door to the Dreamtime; the problem now was that the dimension was shifting so much, and the Shadow World was trying to encapsulate it. If it was normally about as difficult to open as a heavy metal door, now it was like trying to open a rusted door at the bottom of the ocean.
"There are also the dreams and nightmares from the few mortals with abnormal minds Paradox interacted with," Dreamqueen added as an afterthought.
"I'm quite curious about the dreams Doom would have of Father," Seraph commented offhandedly.
She reached for the shoulder of the succubus, startling her momentarily, and made a short-range, wide psionic channel to Dreamqueen's mind. This was to allow the succubus access to her thinking capabilities, since Seraph had judged that time was running impossibly short.
The succubus' eyes widened and slackened, as if her mind was too busy to assign thinking power to the handling of the body.
Her cognitive velocity and command over her authority sharpened to an impossible degree. The door creaked open with increasing speed—yet this was akin to unlatching one's home to a frenzied mob already storming the threshold.
The first deity to break through the closest inflexion plane was one Seraph did not recognize. It was pink-skinned, it reminded her of her sister Carina, whom Aragorn and Kitty had rescued from the Collector's hands, and it had what she could only describe as bony hair. It was as if he had quills for hair.
His eyes were black as shadows, and his pink skin was cracking open, as if he were made of porcelain and black ink was starting to leak from the growing cracks.
Seraph didn't want to allow him time to process the situation, and, besides, she also knew that all that his thralls saw, Chaos King saw, and that it could be summoned through his thralls.
Decisively, Seraph piked him with over a dozen psionic lances that, once lodged inside, expanded until the god was literally blown up in pieces.
"I hope your father is keeping Chaos King busy," Seraph commented.
"Why?" Dreamqueen replied with a slackened face and dilated pupils, her yellow eyes distracted by the effort of her task.
"Because Chaos King would know that taking me hostage has more value than consuming the Dream Dimension," Seraph revealed.
After her reply, the slackened expression in Dreamqueen vanished, and her eyes narrowed in thought.
"Return to your task," Seraph icily commanded. "You're not strong enough to capture and offer me to Chaos King in exchange for the Dream Dimension."
"Don't blame me for thinking it, it's only logical," Dreamqueen unapologetically answered before returning to her door-opening task. The space in front of her was beginning to twist.
The second deity to arrive was one of the amorphous kind; it looked like a poorly wound spool constantly shifting forms with the same cadence with which jellyfish floated about. Its body was made of threads of—
"Causality? Or is it Fate?" Seraph wondered out loud. "No, there's no fate in this Universe. Causality and probability."
"The second fruit of Paradox," the deity spoke in a voice that wasn't its own. Before hearing this voice, Seraph would not have been able to describe what a voice shrouded in shadows would sound like.
"You're not wrong, if we consider Spark as the first," Seraph replied while her mind was impossibly fast, building a spell to scatter probability based on the one her father had bought from Wanda to use for pranking.
"Your presence here implies that my secret is out in the disgusting light." The threads violently squirmed.
"I know you don't know, since Harry Hart didn't, but the moment all mortal minds would have fallen into an unending slumber, he would have realized it was you. You did the same in Earth-616, after all." Seraph's tone was not mocking him, but somehow it felt like it was.
"WHO? WHO WAS IT? WHO TOLD HIM ABOUT IT?!" With his roars, the threads exploded and imploded in rage before reforming.
"No one told him as much as he simply witnessed it," Seraph shrugged, unconcerned by the tantrum.
Chaos King, eriely, paused his tantrum and said, "... Now I know you're just provoking me."
"What?" Seraph was truly confused. She was certainly stalling, but she wouldn't claim to have been deliberately provoking him.
"Paradox can't have witnessed the glorious undoing of the multiverse I almost succeeded in carrying over," Chaos King stated. "I would have faced him, since he, undoubtedly, would have stood in my way. And Eternity, my counterpart and other half, would have tasked him with putting a stop to my rebellion at an early start."
"That's just more about Father that Harry Hart ignores," Seraph chuckled. "What titles do you know of my father?"
"... The Abstract of Paradox, the Shine Dragon, Aragorn, the Progeny of the Outside, the Agent of the Cosmological Compass, the Second Layer of Reality, the Executor, and many more under which those in the know acknowledge," Chaos King replied, humoring Seraph.
"What do you know about the Outside?" Seraph's mien was mirthful, and looking down on the ignorance of the Cosmic Entity.
"It's the Far Shore, the edge of All," he replied concretely.
"Well, Father is the progeny of that which is beyond the Far Shore, the Outside, not the part that you know of, but what's in part beyond the shore, what only the Firmaments and Beyonders know of. Father arrived here from the Outside. From the point of view of All, Father is the progeny of the Outside, hence the title," Seraph rambled on. "In conclusion, Father arrived in the Multiverse not long ago, barely four Terran years of this Earth."
"... Impossible."
"Well, Father always said that no being more stubborn exists than a Cosmic Entity," Seraph shrugged before activating her spell.
The spell came not with a blinding light; it was a mist that exploded and flooded about an eighth of the Dream Dimension with its pearlescent hue and misty fog.
All around where the fog touched, stupid accidents began to besiege the enthralled deities, and the amorphous deity barely could cry in agony before Seraph overwrote it completely, effectively yanking the leash off of Chaos King's hands.
"Go, Slave, wreak havoc!" Seraph commanded, pleased with herself. "I shall name this spell Wrought Chaos."
A third deity appeared near her, this one she recognized as one of the Maya Pantheon; however, before the puppetteer could speak through it, the inflexion plane twisted by pure 'coincidence' and it crunched them like a soda can under a shoe.
"It won't be long before my slave is dealt with. You have little to no time left," Seraph pointed out.
This time, Dreamqueen did not reply; her attention was fully on pushing the door open.
The fourth deity to appear was similar in essence to the second but different in application. If the second one twisted causality to create a string of coincidences that led to a faux fated outcome, the fourth twisted causality to maintain an outcome, leading to a definition of inevitability.
"You did not exist in Earth-199999," Seraph said with a loopsided troubled grin.
This fourth deity was hominid in shape, but that's where the similarities ended. Its textures were a combination of twisted swirls of white and black, with no features. It was not clear if it was a humanoid deity painted by this weird texture, or this weird texture taking a humanoid shape.
Causality and the space-time mesh seemed to warp around it, and Seraph was not clear on whether it had been a Skyfather since the start or if Chaos King was powering it up, because she was certain this one was stronger than her.
"As the crazy human says, maximum effort!" She hyped herself up, and the disguise of her humanoid form was lost.
She exploded into a mist made up of her particles of Element, the element her father used to create her.
Magic circles flickered on and off within the neon blue fog. The fourth deity staggered, but only for a fraction of a fraction of a second.
Psionic energy poured from the fog like a tsunami and slammed into The Fourth. He arched back, but otherwise kept marching towards Dreamqueen.
The fog suddenly churned violently, and sonic waves besieged the marching deity of Inevitability. Cracks spread across its joints, but just as easily as they came, they went.
The Fourth took step after step. Seraph tried to warp the space-time mesh to loop him in time, send him to the start, or seal him in a second of space-time.
Yet, it was all fruitless in the face of that which was immutable, unstopable, unchangeable, inevitable.
The neon blue fog didn't give up, though. It violently began to swirl like a tornado of impossible magnitude. The psionic energy spun with the fog. Powered by her sound, psionic energy, and raw divinity, deep cuts appeared on The Fourth.
Its limbs almost fell off, its neck was almost mortally severed, and its torso was almost completely cleaved; yet, it never quite happened. It was always just... almost.
As if powered by Therion regeneration, the cracks, cuts, and scrapes all healed.
The Fourth was close to Dreamqueen, about a couple more steps.
Seraph, recognizing the severity of the situation, changed her approach.
The raw divinity flowing through the neon blue tornado changed nature and became Dream Divinity. The Dream Dimension, as if welcoming a child, yielded control to Seraph.
Nightmare, about three-quarters of the Dream Dimension away from Seraph, surrendered part of his lordship over the dimension to Seraph.
And then, the Inevitable God ceased advancing.
It stood rigidly, like a millenary tree, unmoving.
Seraph reformed into her bodily form. She looked just as fresh and spry as ever, but Dreamqueen noticed how empty she felt.
"You have eight seconds," Seraph affirmed.
Five seconds later, the door opened, and the Dreamtime was visible.
"Take this," Dreamqueen shoved two spheres, one pale white with green swirls, and the other pale white with muddy green splashes. "Also, take this piece of the Dream Dimension with you."
Seraph only needed a glance at the spheres to understand what they were. Her jaw locked. Her face scrunched with annoyance, and her heart wavered for a moment before she nodded and said, "Thank you. I'll make sure to tell Father about this."
"It was inevitable," Dreamqueen chuckled. "Nightmare, and I knew of the outcome before I was sent to bring you here."
The door to the Dreamtime was a jagged scar. Seraph jumped through it, and behind her, the space-time mesh was pulled through like a blanket.
At a distance from the door, where the edges of what Seraph controlled and what Nightmare lorded met, the dimension was torn apart like paper.
When the last corner of the 'blanket' passed through the door, the opening collapsed onto itself, and the door was permanently sealed shut.
'Nothing good will come out of that,' Harry Hart commented to Chaos King.
The shadow monster had no comment.
"Don't coward, Chaos King!" Nightmare roared. "Don't flee. Don't panic. Don't fear. Don't rage. Just battle me. That is all that matters!"
BOOOM!
Light swallowed Chaos King, and from a distance, Dreamqueen was seen aiming a Halo as if it were a cannon.
"And my daughter!" Nightmare added.
The Chaos King snarled like a rabid dog and forced the Shadow World into the Dream Dimension, and began to fuse both dimensions.
Nightmare tensed in pain for an instant.
When he had yielded a part of the Dream Dimension to Seraph, it had been akin to removing his coat and placing it over her shoulder. When the Shadow World invaded the Dream Dimension and fused with it, it was as if Chaos King had shoved a hand through his stomach and grabbed his spine while claiming to be one with Nightmare.
"... B-But, do-es it mmatter?" Nightmare asked through gritted teeth.
"What?" Chaos King asked.
Outside the Dream Dimension, in the Dreamtime, Seraph observed the two clashing dimensions meld with each other and slowly fuse into one. The two spheres nestled in her arms, and the piece of the Dream Dimension she had ripped off, she had fused into her core.
She raised a dainty blue hand with gloomy blue circuitry lighting her palm.
Behind her, circles of Script manifested, one atop the other, resembling a slinky.
She was not casting a spell, nor was she incribing Script. Knowing the risk she would face, Aragorn had allowed her to take anything she wanted from his personal armory.
She had only taken this weapon.
At the furthest circle, at the base of the tunnel, something bright was summoned, and then there was light.
Luxena, Goddess of Agriculture and Celestial Stars, Yelena's daughter, and Aragorn had spent thousands of years enchanting the Halley's Comet from Earth-199999 into the perfect ammunition.
That same comet had been shot through the rings of the Script.
The target was obviously the fused dimensions.
Seraph was blasted away. The collapse of two dimensions was not something she could shrug off.
↓Part 4 (Last)━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 4 (Last)↓
In a corner of the Dreamtime, a dimension so vast that even the Splinter Realms would struggle to match in vastness, the rings of Script, arranged over a length greater than the distance between the Sun and Pluto, hissed with a vapor of something that resembled steam, but that certainly wasn't—a haze of what could only vaguely be understood as heat warped the space-time mesh of the dimension.
When Script is inscribed by the Therions, they use any of the energies available to them capable of powering the texted language Aragorn created.
Psionic energy is not a cost-effective energy to power Script, and mainly only mental monsters like Jean, Emma, and Mindee use it as a source. Divinity, in whatever form, is particularly well-suited for this. Most dimensional energies are acceptable. And void energy, Aragorn's energy, is absurdly effective, which is only natural considering Script was created for it.
As effective as void energy is, the Therions would rarely, if ever, use it to power their Script, since the energy is so volatile they fear it as much as they value it.
The weapon, this one-shot cannon, was created by Aragorn with the help of Luxena; ergo, the Script was powered by void energy.
Aragorn, as the origin of void energy, is studiously careful with his energy's management, because no one understands how dangerous that form of power is better than he does.
However, what Aragorn considers a safe margin is vastly different than most.
For example, when he created the Halley Cannon, as he refers to it in his mind, he considered that the Script would fail after shooting the dimension-killer, but he filed the current disaster as marginal damage.
Hence, as the rings of Script collapsed, the remnants of void energy were released, and that section of the Dreamtime began to warp and contract. This haze is the visible expression of that.
This is not the only consequence. Across the Universe, the dreaming wake up all at once as the Dreamtime denied unconscious sleep to all to eject them from it.
Nonetheless, the most egregious repercussions were felt on Earth. The current global population fell into a state of inert consciousness. They are not sleeping, as the Dream Dimension doesn't exist anymore, and they don't have a place to dream in, yet they are not conscious because dreams have formed such an important part of a mortal's mind that a mortal mind couldn't withstand the absence of the Dreaming.
At the base of the Arbor Mundi, Aragorn's eyes flashed to a combination of colors the Therions have come to understand as deeper-than-the-Below-Place annoyance.
Like turning a light bulb the size of the Sun, his psionic field covers the globe in its cold blue tones—as those who can see psionic energy interpret it—and in an instant everything stops.
Everything remotely connected to matter stops.
Easily understood, this meant anything moving stopped: humans, trains, animals, planes, rivers, seas, oceans, insects, plants, air, liquids, and solids.
Additionally, at a level almost impossibly harder to grasp, everything small stopped: molecules, atoms, protons, neutrons, and electrons.
Everything stopped.
And when everything stops, when energy exchange through mass becomes impossible, the realm of the absolute zero is reached.
'If nothing moves, then, to the eyes of a mortal observer, isn't it reasonable to exclaim that time stopped?' Aragorn pondered. 'Maybe that's why in fiction the extreme of freezing is often considered freezing time... That reminds me of Esdeath. Senior Sister was curious about the Akame Ga Kill world.'
To be able to completely stop everything on Earth while maintaining the demanded atomic and chemical stability... This is why Aragorn finds it hard to fault Reed Richards for his irrational distrust of him; Aragorn believes it would be stranger if someone as smart as Reed Richards accepted him easily.
The world of absolute zero was not filled with icy blues and freezing whites. Aragon manually stopped everything in an instant; this means that water didn't even have the time to expand its volume with the abrupt decrease in temperature.
All kinetic energy was instantly turned into potential energy. Chemical reactions were not killed to never restart; they were paused.
A similar effect could have been achieved by interfering with the time flow; this, however, was not recommended at the moment.
Dimensions could be found inside or outside Reality. The Dreamtime, the Dream Dimension, consequently, is found within Reality. If Aragorn were to stop the localized time of Reality, the Dreamtime would be affected, and he didn't know how that would play out for his daughter. If Aragorn were to create a small domain to only stop time for Earth, after Odin and Kubos messed with the Time of this Reality, he feared it would cause more problems than it would solve.
'This would be easier if the timestream had not been so, honestly, fucked up,' Aragorn complained as cracks spread on the shell he was wearing as his body.
He was constantly outputting so much psionic energy that—
'Aragorn, what are you doing?'
—The Phoenix Force took notice of him.
Molding a planet, crushing a star, shooting a galaxy like a frisbee across the Universe, all of these feats required astronomical amounts of psionic energy, the likes of which even beyond-omega-level mutants could not grasp. However...
'There are 7.5 quintillion grains of sand on Earth. 50 quintillion atoms in a grain of sand. About 375 undecillion atoms in all grains of san—'
'You idiot! Have you claimed absolute control of all 133 quindecillion atoms on Earth?!'
'... Well, and their subatomic particles too... There are leptons and quarks too.'
'...'
'... Help?'
'... Sigh.'
Following the exasperated sigh of the Abstract, Aragorn's psionic energy was tainted with the warm colors of the Phoenix Force.
'You are a dear,' Aragorn praised with golden eyes.
Back in the Dreamtime, where the Dream Dimension and Shadow World had once stood, the light had finally begun to subside. The wounded space-time mesh started to regain its orderly form. The rioting dimensional energies resulting from the collapse of both dimensions slowly regained their usual sway.
At a distance incalculable, not only because of its magnitude but also because distance as a concept was chaotic inside an abstract dimension like the Dreamtime, from the heart of this localized apocalypse of two dimensions, Seraph's battered body lay unconscious.
Typically, due to the make-up of her body, the type of existence she was, her creation, and divine domain, it would be impossible for Seraph to be unconscious. Yet, the explosion resulting from the collapse of the Dream Dimension and Shadow World was not an ordinary event.
The energies of both partially mixed and hit Seraph, who, after stalling the fourth deity that attacked her, was running critically low in fuel.
Her mind was exhausted from casting spells and attacking, her divinity spent, and the void energy she could wield was the type of tame beast she could lean on to recover.
When the brunt of the explosion hit her, she could only resort to the 'mundane' energy that powered her body. It may be demeaning to call it simple electricity, but it was not that far when compared with psionic, divine, and void energies.
Her defense was not enough; some of the mixed energies hit her consumed self, and her body was forced to factory reset.
Part of the reason why her defense was not enough had to do with fusing the piece of the Dream Dimension she took to her core without preparation.
Furthermore, the two orbs Dreamqueen had handed her played a part in this.
Aragorn would always claim that Seraph was the softest of his 'direct' family. This was in comparison to him, Spark, and Death. Factually, though, Seraph was soft to goodwill.
This sotness toward goodwill was what motivated her to protect the orbs, even when she was not certain she could survive the blast.
Now, with her body out of her control, she was unable to stop it from drawing the orbs in and absorbing them before her body lost form and resorted to the basic directives Aragorn had programmed.
In this case, the directive went on with something like 'Shield and Protect while restoring and healing in case of critical damage.'
Her body contracting, the impossible material, Element, allowing for an extreme reduction of volume without a change in its properties. It took the most efficient shape, a sphere, of her blue color with a circuitry of softly-glowing patterns pulsing with a slow heartbeat.
Then, following the original core directives, the 'egg' started to siphon energy from its surroundings without a care for consequences because, according to a certain dragon, 'Nothing supersedes my daughter.'
With the egg drawing energy in like a waterfall does water, it was inevitable that some of the more perceptive residents of the Dreamtime would catch on to the anomaly.
A few minutes later, Altjira, the newly-appointed leader of the Aboriginal Gods of Australia, reached the egg first.
'... %$#$*^!!' His astral form clawed at his beaked face in frustration from the forehead all the way to his neck.
Before the Divine Incursion, the leader of his Alchera, the realm they inhabited within the Dreamtime, was Baiame. After the Divine Incursion, whether because of the bad karma he had accumulated by helping Odin in his madness, or because of terrible bad luck, Baiame was no more; he was one of the deities that fell to the mutants of Krakoa.
And now, one of the daughters of the being his people had rebelled against was in a vulnerable state right in front of him.
As if handling the greatest treasure in the Multiverse, Altjira's astral form picked up the egg. Almost instantly, he felt the egg consume his astral form's energy and divinity like a starved black hole.
'!!!!!!!'
His first instinct was to release it, but he stopped himself when his instincts reminded him of the value of his cargo.
So, with a controlled and careful madrush, he sprinted towards Alchera with the egg in his hands.
His Astral form barely made it inside the realm before snapping back to his body like an arrow set loose.
His body lurched forward, and he coughed divine ichor, some of the damage his astral form experienced transferring over to his physical vessel.
"WHAT HAVE YOU BROUGHT?!" Mamaragan, the Aboriginal god of lightning, screamed in horrified anger.
"WHAT CHOICE DID I HAVE?!" Altjira roared back. "IF I LEFT HER, AND SOMETHING HAPPENED TO HER, WHO DO YOU THINK WILL STOP IT FROM DECLARING US RESPONSIBLE?!"
Mamaragan, faced with undeniable logic, calmed down. His eyes darted from Altjira to the egg, to and fro. "That thing is absorbing Alchera's energy."
"... I know," Altjira voiced, exhausted. "Summon the others, we need to feed this to health and back... Hopefully, that will be enough for her progenitor to forgive us."
With the crackle of lightning, Mamaragan disappeared.
While in Alchera the Aboriginal gods bled their vitality onto the egg, on Earth Aragorn was using a single thread of his mind to contact Oblivion, Eternity and Infinity, while the Phoenix Force was assisting him with the impossible task of manually stopping change on Earth.
'So... This is weird, but... Is it all right to end Chaos King? I mean, I know it is like your offspring, under a very loose definition of the word, and I believe it represents another face of yours... And I'll be honest, I'm having an impossible time calculating the repercussions,' Aragorn said.
'Chaos King is not my offspring, just as Death isn't.' Oblivion's voice was like a distant whisper fading away that paradoxically was impossible to ignore.
'Chaos King is the face at the other side of the coin.' Eternity's voice echoed from the future, present, and past.
'Erasing Chaos King would be akin to removing all shadows. When there's only light left, everyone would be as blind as in absolute darkness.' Infinity's warning came from all directions at the same time.
'Just as Life and Death define each other, Chaos King defines Eternity, and, by consequence, Infinity,' Oblivion explained.
'... Fucking shit!' Aragorn gracefully cursed. 'Did you guys have something to do with Hercules sealing it instead of obliterating it?'
'He once said that a fated future is one voided of free will,' Eternity retold.
'He, however, understands that free will is as dangerous as it is beautiful,' Infinity continued.
'But the original, the main body, was sealed by Earth-616's Hercules. What does it matter if I eliminate this offshoot?' Aragorn whined like a child, even though he already knew the answer.
'Unlike some,' Oblivion directed his gaze deliberatively to Aragorn, 'it only has one self. Eliminate this self, and the main body will perish.'
Aragorn shared the mental equivalent of a massive pout, and then the connection was ended by all parties.
Oblivion was busy planning for the end of the current iteration, Infinity and Eternity were busy existing to allow all of existence to exist; they were busy, not as free as the Phoenix Force and Aragorn.
'I told you so,' the Phoenix Force smugly stated. 'You can't erase Chaos King.'
'Yeah, you were fucking right,' Aragorn cursed again. 'I'm basically a cripple, barely capable of pausing Earth, and I will have to fight against a being that will certainly not be weaker than me.'
'Don't forget that Chaos King will not care about collateral damage; it will welcome it,' the Phoenix Force rubbed salt in the wound.
'Oh, yes, how great. Why don't we add that I'll have to keep my Therions away since the thing loves to eat divinity,' Aragorn flatly stated. 'Hey, Senior Sister—'
'Yes, you can borrow Jean,' the Phoenix Force scoffed.
'Oh? Why so cooperative?' Aragorn asked. 'Don't get me wrong, I'm taking your magnanimity, oh great burning bird.'
'Repayment,' Phoenix sated with little emotion in her voice, as if trying to act as if it wasn't an important matter.
Aragorn, his eyes piercing concepts to observe Phoenix in The White Hot Room, observed with careful attention the psionic being. 'You're welcome.'
Although Aragorn's work has benefited the greater multiverse, especially due to the changes he brought to the Celestials' Emergence, the one Abstract who had profited the greatest was the Phoenix Force.
Jean Grey, from Earth-5H1N3, was everything Phoenix ever envisioned and more, and it was all Aragorn to thank for. Beyond that, Aragorn had taken one of her shards and had introduced her to the mysteries of that which lay beyond the Far Shore.
And, in his twisted style, Phoenix understood that Aragorn cared for her like he did his family, which, to her, was as ludicrous as the Abstract of Death partnering with the Abstract of Paradox.
Aragorn pulled his eyes away from the flaming bird and turned towards his Sweet Blue.
He, even while most of his mind was occupied with pausing Earth, followed every move, twitch, thought, and soul pulse of the Aboriginal gods as they sat in a circle around the egg and fed it with their divinity.
From time to time, catching a stray thought he disapproved, he would frown, gnash his teeth, hiss like an animal, or tighten his fist as his eyes turned into murderous red suns.
'By the way,' Phoenix added as an afterthought, 'I sensed something happening with the Mind Stone of your Reality.'
'Something?' Aragorn asked, momentarily taking a breather from his intense scrutiny. In Alchera, ignorant of the reason, the Aboriginal gods felt a weight off their shoulders.
'I can't sense it anymore,' Phoenix revealed.
'What the fucking shit do you fucking mean? How can the fucking Abstract of fucking Psionic fucking Energy can't fucking sense the fucking Mind fucking Stone?' Something snapped in Aragorn.
That was akin to Eternity claiming to be unable to sense the Time Stone, Infinity the Space Stone, or Death the Soul Stone.
It was the Mind Stone, and Phoenix was everything that was mind-related.
'Normally, that only happens when the stone is destroyed or dispersed into Reality,' Phoenix explained.
'... Thanos had it,' Aragorn pointed out.
'Which is why I doubt it was destroyed or dispersed into Reality,' Phoenix affirmed.
'... Fuck.'
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
————————————————
{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.}
————————————————