Within the Revengers' orbital base, Death's avatar walked the corrupted corridors with casual ease, as if taking a leisurely afternoon stroll through a garden rather than infiltrating enemy territory.
Ben's Eclipsian Swampfire form moved with unhurried confidence, his plant-matter body rippling with barely contained power. Charmcaster followed close behind, small enough to be carried as a pendant-sized figure in his massive hand—a temporary size reduction spell that allowed her to avoid attracting attention while conserving her severely limited magical reserves.
Any Revenger unfortunate enough to cross their path met swift and final endings. Black flames erupted from Eclipsian Swampfire's body, death-touched fire that consumed corrupted flesh and burned away the cancer cells that sustained immortality. When flames proved insufficient, thorns materialized—sharp black spikes infused with mortality's authority that pierced bodies and souls simultaneously.
The Cancer beings fell and remained fallen, their resurrection mechanisms encountering death's fundamental principle and failing to activate. Corpses littered the passages, testament to the futility of immortality when Death's agent walked among them.
"Your flames are quite unique," Charmcaster observed, watching the black fire consume another group of attackers with almost artistic precision. "I've never seen anything quite like them before."
The flames didn't behave like normal combustion. They burned with purpose rather than chemical reaction, targeting specific elements—the cancer cells, the corruption, the unnatural immortality—while leaving structural materials relatively intact. When their work was complete, they simply vanished rather than spreading or requiring extinguishing.
Eclipsian Swampfire's voice emerged rough and organic, filtered through plant-matter vocal cords. "The flames carry death's authority. They don't just destroy physical form—they enforce endings on things that forgot how to end."
Charmcaster had attempted to contribute earlier, casting attack spells at approaching enemies with all the skill and technique she'd refined over years of magical practice. But her efforts proved frustratingly ineffective, her magic sliding off Cancer beings like water off oiled leather.
Without death's authority infusing her spells, without access to the vast reserves of Mana Ben had severed, she couldn't permanently harm these creatures. She could blast them apart, certainly. Could scatter their corrupted flesh across walls and floors. But they'd simply pull themselves back together moments later, resurrection automatic and inevitable.
"If you manage to awaken the Phoenix Force," Ben continued, his tone carrying subtle encouragement beneath the tactical assessment, "the Phoenix flames could accomplish similar results. The Phoenix represents cosmic rebirth, which inherently includes the power to impose endings before new beginnings."
He paused, considering how to phrase the concept accessibly. "To be more precise, the Phoenix Force isn't actually fire at all—it just manifests as flame because that's how human minds interpret its nature. The 'fire' is pure cosmic energy, fundamental universal power given visual form."
"I'd love to access that power," Charmcaster muttered, her tiny voice carrying disproportionate frustration. "Believe me, I'm trying. But you severed my connection to Genesis, remember? All the Mana I accumulated is gone now."
She gestured helplessly, the motion almost invisible at her reduced scale. "What's left is purely my own life force. Using even minor magic risks draining myself to dangerous levels. I'm operating on fumes here."
If she could safely tap into greater power without risking her own life, she would absolutely do so. The current situation—being carried around like a useless accessory while Ben did all the actual fighting—grated against her pride and competitive nature.
As the two continued their conversation, moving deeper into the base's core systems, Ben's spider-sense suddenly screamed a warning.
The sensation hit like an ice-water plunge, that distinctive tingling that had saved his life countless times across multiple realities. His enhanced perception painted a picture of incoming danger so overwhelming that his heart actually skipped a beat—a physiological response that shouldn't have been possible for someone with his level of power.
Without conscious thought, operating purely on combat instinct refined through thousands of battles, Ben's hand shot out and grabbed Charmcaster's reduced form.
"Wha—?!" Her startled exclamation cut off as Ben pulled her against his chest and his body suddenly liquefied.
Eclipsian Swampfire's plant-matter form dissolved into organic slurry, the transformation happening faster than thought. He engulfed Charmcaster completely, surrounding her with layers of protective biomass that hardened into something approaching organic armor.
The next instant, reality turned white.
Dozens of energy beams—each one matching or exceeding the destructive output of the Incursean Empire's Death Ray Cannon, weapons capable of obliterating planets with sustained fire—converged on the base's exact location.
BOOM!!!
The orbital station simply ceased to exist. Trillions of tons of metal, organic growth, technology, and corrupted flesh vaporized in a microsecond, transformed from solid matter into expanding clouds of superheated plasma that glowed like newborn stars.
The explosion was visible from the planet's surface below, a new sun briefly igniting in the heavens before fading.
In the void of space surrounding where the Revengers' base had been, dozens of corrupted Celestials floated in perfect formation.
The cosmic gods arranged themselves in a circle, their toilet-bowl-shaped heads—grotesque parodies of their original elegant designs—all oriented toward the expanding debris field. They watched impassively as matter dispersed, as energy dissipated, as the destruction they'd wrought spread across millions of cubic kilometers.
Among the spreading dust and vaporized materials, Cancer beings began their automatic resurrection. Bodies reconstructed themselves from atmospheric components, consciousness downloading from whatever backup systems the Many-Angled Ones maintained.
Even the Celestials' overwhelming power couldn't permanently kill them. They'd destroyed the target completely, reduced it to constituent atoms, and still the Cancer beings returned.
Cancer Captain Marvel manifested first, her body burning with stellar intensity as corruption and cosmic power mixed into something that resembled a living star. She turned to address Anthony Stark Stark and Cancer Steve Rogers as they reformed nearby.
"The Coroner should be dead now," Carol stated with confident satisfaction. "Even if he survived the initial blast, he'd have been scattered across space. No way to reassemble without help."
"But if we killed the Coroner," Anthony Stark asked, his diseased genius already spotting potential problems in their victory, "doesn't that prevent us from performing the ritual? We can't summon and sacrifice Death without someone who embodies mortality's authority."
His corrupted tactical mind evaluated the situation with machine-like precision. "We just eliminated our most valuable strategic asset in exchange for temporary satisfaction."
"I'm aware of the theoretical complications," Carol admitted, her tone growing defensive. "But this universe is too anomalous. They clearly weren't proper Coroners according to standard cosmic definitions, yet they could still kill us permanently. That made them too dangerous to risk capturing alive."
She gestured at the spreading debris field, justifying the decision retroactively. "There are countless universes out there, infinite realities to exploit. We don't need to fixate on this specific one. We'll find another Coroner, perform the ritual elsewhere, spread immortality's blessing without these particular complications."
"That's... actually reasonable," Anthony Stark conceded after a moment's consideration. "In that case, let's activate the Galactus Engine and destroy their Earth through the cosmic fault line. Eliminate the entire universe as a potential threat before they can organize another invasion."
But despite his words accepting the logic, unease still churned in his corrupted consciousness. "I'm still shaken by how suddenly Thor and the others died. The speed, the finality of it. What if I had been stabbed by those people too..."
Whoosh!
A black blade erupted from behind, piercing through his armor with surgical precision. The spike tore open his abdomen, corruption and mechanical components spilling into the vacuum as the death-touched weapon enacted its fundamental purpose.
Anthony Stark looked down at the blade protruding from his torso, his expression almost comically blank with disbelief.
"Like... like this," he whispered, his voice growing softer with each syllable as life fled. "That would be... terrible..."
His consciousness faded mid-sentence, the cancer cells that had sustained him encountering death's authority and accepting their ending with something resembling relief.
"TONY!" Cancer Steve's anguished shout echoed across the void, transmitted through communication systems rather than nonexistent atmosphere.
The black blade suddenly exploded, fragmenting into thousands of death thorns that spread like shrapnel. Each spike carried the same lethal authority, promising permanent endings to anything they touched.
"Clang clang clang!" The sound of impacts rang through Steve's helmet as he raised his vibranium shield desperately, the legendary defensive artifact blocking the initial wave.
But Cancer Carol wasn't so fortunate. A thorn caught her left arm, penetrating corrupted flesh and immediately triggering catastrophic necrosis. The limb began festering with supernatural speed, death spreading from the wound site like aggressive infection.
Without hesitation, Carol tore off her own arm before the corruption could reach her torso. She hurled the rotting limb away, watching it dissolve into cosmic dust, then turned her attention to the figure standing behind Tony's floating corpse.
Her pupils—already distorted by disease—constricted further as recognition and terror warred for dominance.
Ben Parker stood in the void, completely unprotected by armor or energy fields, his Eclipsian Swampfire form having reverted to base human appearance. He pulled his arm free from the remains of Anthony Stark's armor, the limb that had transformed into a blade returning to its normal shape with casual ease.
"You're not dead!" Carol's voice emerged twisted by genuine fear, the emotion foreign and overwhelming after years of confident immortality.
What gave you the illusion that you could kill me? Ben's expression suggested the question clearly, even without speaking it aloud.
His gaze lifted, taking in the dozens of corrupted Celestials floating above. His body language conveyed utter indifference to their presence, as if cosmic gods were merely background scenery rather than apocalyptic threats.
"Can't you be a little nicer to my parallel universe counterpart?" Tony Stark's voice cut through the tension, drawing everyone's attention.
The rescued heroes from Ben's universe materialized nearby, transported via dimensional portals that Looma had opened during the microsecond before the Celestial bombardment. She'd saved them all—Tony, Steve, Wanda, Beta Ray Bill, the Nova Corps centurions—pulling them to safety while Ben handled the actual fighting.
Eunice floated among them, and her appearance had transformed dramatically. Her body now contained all six Infinity Stones—Mind, Soul, Reality, Power, Time, and a synthetic Space Stone created through the Cosmic Cube's infinite energy matrix.
The Cube's power allowed the Stones to function across universal boundaries, filling the gap left by the absent Space Stone and completing the Infinity Circuit that granted access to their full potential.
Eunice resembled a radiant goddess, her golden hair flowing despite the vacuum, her entire form surrounded by divine light that pulsed with fundamental cosmic forces. The six Stones glowed within her vibranium-enhanced synthezoid body, their energies perfectly balanced and channeled.
Ben had recently decided to entrust all the Infinity Stones to Eunice permanently. The Plumbers organization desperately needed more cosmic-scale combatants, beings capable of threatening universal powers. Eunice wielding the complete Infinity Gauntlet's power solved that problem elegantly.
"Since you like him so much," Ben said, his voice carrying dark amusement, "you can have him." He casually tossed Anthony Stark's corpse toward the normal Tony Stark.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Tony recoiled with exaggerated horror, activating his armor's thrusters to put maximum distance between himself and the diseased body. "Don't be so disgusting! Also, I haven't forgotten—I haven't settled the score with you for that emotional manipulation bullshit with me and Steve!"
His voice carried genuine grievance mixed with performative outrage. "Making us both think we were your special best friend? That's some sociopathic behavior right there!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Ben genuinely had no recollection of these supposed offenses. His expression conveyed complete confusion. "Listen here, employee—watch your tone or I'll dock your pay."
Tony immediately shut his mouth, the threat landing with devastating effectiveness.
He was no longer the billionaire playboy philanthropist who could afford to be petulant. Stark Industries had been acquired by Primus Technologies years ago. Now he was just a humble salaried worker who needed his paycheck to maintain his lifestyle.
Beta Ray Bill approached with considerably more decorum than Tony. After all, Tony and Ben were technically friends, which meant their dynamic allowed for casual insults and banter.
Bill's relationship with Ben was professional—employee to employer, warrior to king.
He looked exhausted, his cybernetic enhancements showing signs of strain, but he still managed to speak with appropriate shame coloring his words. "Chief Security Officer, I apologize. I'm useless. I've failed you and the mission parameters."
Not only him—several of the Nova Corps centurions also lowered their heads in shame upon seeing Ben. As Plumbers, failing to complete an assigned mission represented fundamental disgrace. They'd been entrusted with protecting the strike team and had been captured instead.
"I received considerable assistance from the Plumbers during my previous space operations," Carol Danvers added, her own embarrassment obvious. "I never expected our first joint mission would end in such catastrophic failure. I'm deeply ashamed."
She was an honorary Plumber member, essentially operating as an independent contractor. But Ben had granted her significant authority—access to Plumber equipment, command privileges over agents and resources. That trust made this failure sting even more acutely.
"It's not your fault," Ben said, his tone genuinely reassuring rather than patronizing. "I didn't anticipate they could escape from the Null Void Realm either. The intelligence failure was systemic, not individual."
He gestured dismissively, absolving them of responsibility. "My miscalculation for not accounting for Omnitrix wielders with sufficient intelligence to reverse-engineer dimensional technology."
"The strategic error was mine," Eunice insisted, her voice carrying the self-recrimination of someone who prided herself on perfect calculations. As Ben's personal AI and tactical coordinator, she considered any intelligence failure her direct responsibility.
"Wanda," Ben continued, moving past the blame assessment, "take them back to Sakaar for medical treatment and debriefing. I'll handle cleanup here."
"You're not going anywhere!" Cancer Carol shouted, her Binary form flaring with renewed intensity as she prepared to intercept the retreat.
She never got the chance.
The normal universe's Carol Danvers activated her own Binary form, stellar energy erupting across her body as she tapped into white-hole power sources. She became a living star, illumination washing across the cosmic battlefield.
Her fist crashed into Cancer Carol's skull with planet-shattering force, the impact producing a shockwave visible as distortions in space-time itself. The Cancer Captain Marvel's head simply exploded, corrupted matter scattering across thousands of kilometers.
Simultaneously, the Cancer Celestials moved.
Their toilet-shaped heads—grotesque parodies of elegant cosmic design—began glowing with accumulated power. They opened a massive dimensional passage, reality tearing like fabric as they accessed the weapon they'd kept in reserve.
Through the passage, something emerged that dwarfed even the corrupted Celestials.
A skull. Larger than Earth's sun. Composed of technology and organic matter fused beyond any distinction between the two. The head of Galactus, the World Devourer, transformed into the ultimate weapon.
The Galactus Engine descended through the portal, its presence warping local space-time through sheer mass and concentrated destructive power.
"It seems the invincible Planet Eater has fallen yet again," Ben observed, his tone mixing dark amusement with genuine disappointment.
Galactus had an unfortunate track record in this multiverse. Despite his cosmic reputation as an inevitable force of nature, he kept getting defeated, captured, corrupted, or weaponized. His title as one of the universe's fundamental forces seemed increasingly ironic given how often he ended up as someone else's tool.
Setting aside the philosophical implications, Ben had to admit the sheer scale of the Galactus Engine was genuinely impressive. The thing was absolutely massive, radiating power that could theoretically consume solar systems.
I just don't know how strong it actually is in practice, Ben thought, his analytical mind already calculating threat assessments and tactical responses.
He patted his chest, and his body began to grow.
And grow.
And grow.
Ben's form expanded exponentially, human proportions giving way to cosmic scale. He swelled to match the Galactus Engine's size, becoming a giant who could literally shake stars with his movements, whose footsteps would crack planets, whose reach spanned light-seconds.
"Celestial Way Big!"
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