Location: Earth-13 – The First Fracture
It began with a whisper.
A single world fell. Not with an explosion, not with blood—but with surrender.
Earth-13 had been a realm of balance, protected by a local team of magical guardians and enhanced technomancers. But when a golden veil descended upon its skies, promising peace, paradise, and eternal clarity, its people embraced it.
Too late, they realized: the Veilbound had arrived.
These were not demons, nor monsters. They were serene, radiant, beautiful. Clad in robes of woven light and cosmic stillness, they spoke of unity and eternal calm. They offered no war—only freedom from choice, from conflict, from pain.
And in exchange, they demanded only one thing: will.
By the time the Starborn Council received word, Earth-13 had been converted. Its skies dimmed. Its magic silenced. Its people smiled—forever.
But their souls were gone.
Council Reconvened
Harry stood in the War Room at the heart of Avalon, surrounded by projection windows of corrupted worlds, each marked with the Veilbrand—a shimmering symbol resembling both a halo and a noose.
The Council—Liana, Hermione, Jean Grey, Thor, and Doctor Strange—had been summoned. Not in celebration, but in dread.
"They're not attacking," Strange said, arms folded. "They're… inviting."
"That's worse," Jean muttered. "Because people want to believe them."
Hermione stepped forward, eyes scanning the intelligence reports.
"They're targeting fragile worlds," she said. "Places recovering from collapse. Populations desperate for peace. They offer relief, and take obedience."
"They're not just spreading an ideology," Thor added grimly. "They're rewriting reality. Taming chaos by replacing it with illusion."
Liana looked to Harry.
"This is your moment," she said. "Not as a savior. As a guide. The Flame has to answer this."
Harry nodded, expression grim.
"Then we light the fire again."
The First Resistance
Eira Potter led the vanguard team to Earth-99, one of the next predicted targets of the Veilbound. With her stood Leo Stark, Kara of the Skyborn, and a mutant named Syla, whose powers could decode lies through sound frequencies.
When they arrived, they found the Veilbearers already in place—tall, glowing beings with blank eyes and eternal smiles. They moved like priests but acted like viruses, calming entire crowds with whispers that reshaped belief.
"Let us show you the better way," one said to a crying mother.
"There is no pain under the veil. There is only purpose."
Eira stepped forward, her sword unsheathed. The flames curled with warning.
"We don't want your paradise," she said. "And these people deserve to feel. To choose."
The Veilbearer smiled. Then vanished—replaced by a twisting form of light and shadow, revealing the truth: the Veilbound weren't just pacifiers.
They were corrupted echoes—beings from dead timelines, remnants of people who had been erased by the Shattering and returned only to end choice forever.
The battle began.
Flame vs. Veil
Eira's fire lit up the city sky. Kara flew with sonic bursts, clashing midair with twisted Veilbound sentries. Leo's armor adapted to the radiance, launching arcane disruptors and anti-illusion drones.
Syla stepped into the center of the battlefield and let out a scream of pure resonance.
The truth shattered the illusions for a moment—long enough for the civilians to run.
But the Veilbound weren't done.
They didn't die like normal beings. When struck, they unraveled into golden mist, reassembling moments later.
"You can't fight belief," one whispered to Eira. "Only replace it."
"Then I'll show them something worth believing in," she snarled, and ignited the Phoenix Spark inside her fully for the first time.
A massive explosion of pure, radiant fire tore across the battlefield—not destruction, but revelation. For the first time, the Veilbound recoiled.
They could be hurt.
Not killed—but unmasked.
The War Begins
The team returned to Avalon victorious but shaken.
"They aren't just enemies," Eira told her father. "They're reflections. Survivors of the old multiverse. Fragments that envy the life we rebuilt."
Harry stood silently, watching the Veilbrand pulse across the map. It was spreading faster now—each victory making the cult stronger.
The council made their decision.
The multiverse was once again at war.
But this time, the battlefield wasn't physical.
It was spiritual.
Dark Choices
Liana and Hermione began forming teams of Revelators—operatives trained to break illusion and help worlds see the truth before the Veilbound reached them.
Jean Grey and Professor X coordinated with the remaining X-Men to fortify psychic defenses.
Doctor Strange consulted with the Living Tribunal, whose silence had become unsettling.
And Harry—he prepared the Heartforge for war.
"If they want peace without freedom," he said to Liana, "then we give them truth without mercy."
"That's a dangerous path," she warned.
"So is letting people become slaves to comfort."
Harry turned to the Flame and summoned something long buried: a shard of Death itself.
Not to wield.
But to remind them what they had overcome.
The Veilbound offered eternity.
Harry would offer truth.
Even if it burned the stars.
Final Words of the Chapter
Across the multiverse, the Veilbound whispered their lullabies. Worlds faltered. Leaders were swayed. Magic bent to false serenity.
But in the heart of Avalon, the Starborn Flame erupted anew.
Not for conquest.
But for resistance.
The Veilbound War had begun.
And this time, the multiverse had an army that refused to forget what it meant to be alive.