"Mutants? What are those?"
"According to the high priest, they're creatures of terror and despair. Their bodies are covered in rough black chitin, split with cracks and ravines that glow with dark golden light, like molten lava flowing inside. Some have multiple arms, others twisted tendrils."
"But the terrifying part isn't that."
"The high priest said these monsters have the power to evolve."
Felicia shivered again as she repeated the words the Iwi priest had spoken, describing the nightmare beast as if it stood before them.
Hawk's eyes glimmered. "Evolve?"
"Yes. The Iwi weren't always this weak. They were descendants of gods, born strong. But the mutants gained power by devouring them. A mutant that swallowed a tribesman who could breathe fire… learned to breathe fire itself.
"One by one, the Iwi were pushed back, until they had no choice but to flee their ancestral land."
Hawk lowered his gaze in silence.
Peter sucked in a sharp breath. "Devour and evolve… if one of those things ever ate Hawk…"
Hawk shot him a look. "Hey, could you not jinx me?"
"Sorry!" Peter blurted, though he couldn't stop imagining it—a mutant with Hawk's power. That would be the end of the world.
Ignoring him, Hawk turned back to Felicia. "Do they have a picture of this thing?"
Felicia nodded. "On the walls of the Iwi temple."
"Show me."
"Alright."
They left together. Peter shook his head, trying to drive out the nightmare image, then followed.
Night fell.
In the village, Iwi people gathered around bonfires, singing ancient songs that were both strange and beautiful.
Inside the temple, the flames lit the murals. The Iwi said as long as the temple fire burned, their souls could always find the way home.
Hawk stood before a painted wall, staring at the vivid beast Felicia had described—baring its teeth as if ready to leap out.
Peter glanced around. "I'm more curious how these murals kept their color for over a century."
Felicia answered, "The high priest said the first refugees carved them. He calls them descendants of gods."
Peter shrugged. "I'm skeptical."
"They might not be lying."
Hawk turned. "Not gods' descendants—but probably descendants of Eternals."
He looked back at the mural, thoughts racing. He knew now what it was. Not "mutants." The real name was Deviants.
In the comics, they were called "Deviants." In the movies, "Deviants."
In the MCU, they were created by Celestials—immortal predators meant to wipe out apex species so life could flourish. But they evolved. From hunters of predators, they became hunters of all life.
Even the Celestials hadn't expected it.
So the Celestials made the Eternals, designed to hunt down Deviants and keep worlds stable until the birth of a new Celestial. After each "Emergence," the Eternals would be mind-wiped and redeployed to another world, over and over, until they broke down. Those who did were discarded, replaced with new ones.
Learning this, Hawk felt as if fog had lifted.
If the Deviants were real, then the Iwi might really be descendants of the Eternals. And if so… then that piece of metal wasn't "suspected adamantium."
It was adamantium.
Because inside the Earth itself, the unborn Celestial Tiamut was formed entirely of adamantium.
This was even referenced in Captain America 4.
That also explained the divine pressure Hawk had felt when he first set foot on Skull Island.
It wasn't the island. It was Tiamut.
Even in its slumber, the Celestial's unconscious aura was overwhelming.
And if that was just Tiamut asleep… what about when the others woke?
No.
He'd have to secure the Mind Stone quickly.
His sixth sense whispered danger whenever he thought of the Celestials. The feeling was faint, but clear: if he ever faced them, they would not be allies.
He stood in silence.
Peter and Felicia exchanged confused glances.
Felicia asked, "Hawk, what are Eternals?"
"A pitiful race of tools," Hawk said quietly.
That was the truth.
Peter frowned at the mural. "And these mutants—"
"Deviants," Hawk corrected. "Also tools, but ones who rebelled. So the Celestials made the Eternals to hunt them down."
Peter blinked. "So… the Celestials basically made two races just to fight each other. Fine. But why dump them on Earth?"
"Not just Earth." Hawk looked at him. "Every inhabited world in the universe has their traces."
"…Then the Celestials are insane. Truly insane."
Hawk laughed. "When a Celestial comes to Earth someday, I fully support you saying that to his face."
Peter froze. "Comes here? They're coming here?"
"Of course," Hawk shrugged. "But that's years away."
Bad news: the Celestials would be enemies.
Good news: Thanos hadn't snapped yet. Arishem hadn't looked at Earth. There was still time to grow stronger.
The Celestials—beings made by Eternity itself, said to maintain the multiverse. Gods that even a Seventh Sense Saint couldn't match.
Real gods.
Thank heaven there was still time.
Hawk drew a deep breath and smiled at Peter and Felicia. "Alright. Go sleep. Tomorrow, we're going home."
Joy lit their faces.
Felicia blinked. "And you tonight?"
"I'm going to check that cavern." Hawk smiled faintly.
If adamantium was real here, then the next step was obvious.
Dig.
Sleep could wait.
There'd be plenty of time for that when he was strong enough to kick the One Above All in the teeth and fight the gods of creation themselves.
For now?
It was the age of struggle.
Stockpile adamantium. Then uru. Then a material to match gamma radiation. And finally… forge the Phoenix Cloth.
The golden armor of the Phoenix, powered by sun and flame, unbreakable.
He told them not to worry, then vanished in a flash.
Felicia and Peter exchanged a glance.
Peter just sighed. "Let's go. Back to the hut."
Felicia hesitated, then asked softly, "Hawk… is he a god?"
Peter shook his head. "He says he isn't."
"He says?"
"Yeah. Last time in London, some ugly freak asked him the same thing. Hawk said—'Not yet.'"
"Not yet…" Felicia echoed.
Peter nodded. "That's what he said."
…
(End of Chapter)
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