Chapter 49 — Even Gods Have to Pay Taxes
"All right."
Ethan cleared his throat, steadied himself, and his expression grew more solemn.
"Strictly speaking, I'm a priest type healer."
"A priest?"
May's eyebrow lifted—barely, but enough.
Coulson maintained his polite smile.
"You believe in God?"
"No—not in the way you're thinking." Ethan shook his head, folding his hands lightly on the desk.
"To explain this properly, we need to start from something more fundamental.
Have either of you heard of out-of-body experiences?"
The two agents exchanged a glance and nodded in unison.
"Many people report such experiences when they're close to death," Ethan continued.
"Some call it a 'spirit,' others call it a 'soul,' but they're pointing to the same core concept—a non-material consciousness.
In spiritual theory, this isn't a hallucination. It's the mind temporarily separating from the physical body and touching a purely spiritual plane.
We refer to it as the Universal Spirit."
He leaned forward slightly, trying to make it easier to grasp.
"It's a realm where fragments of departed consciousness accumulate—knowledge, emotions, memories, everything left behind by awareness itself.
Imagine encountering a book you've never read, written in a language you don't know—yet in that state, its meaning unfolds perfectly before you.
But once your consciousness returns to the body, most of that information slips away, like sand through an hourglass."
He paused, then offered a more relatable example.
"Have you ever struggled endlessly with a skill—no progress at all—only to wake up one morning and suddenly get it?
Your technique improves dramatically, without knowing why.
That might be because, while sleeping, your consciousness briefly brushed against that reservoir of knowledge and brought back a spark of insight."
He gestured to himself.
"And I'm an extreme case of that phenomenon.
When I was nine, I nearly died from a severe illness. I experienced a profound out-of-body event.
It felt as if I were drifting through an ocean of consciousness, touching countless fragments of indescribable knowledge—interwoven, chaotic, overwhelming.
When I was resuscitated, those fragments didn't vanish.
They were sealed away—like archived files—and as I grew older, they gradually unlocked, surfacing in my mind."
May immediately seized on the key point.
"So that's the source of your abilities?"
"Yes," Ethan answered calmly.
"I can't say whether that information comes from the future, the past, the present—or even a parallel universe.
It's more like a vast data field spanning multiple timelines.
And somehow, I connected to it."
He spread his hands helplessly.
"And once connected… it can't be erased."
Coulson and May frowned, processing the explanation.
It wasn't provable—but it wasn't easily dismissible either.
"All right," Coulson said at last. "We understand the background.
Now let's talk about the abilities themselves.
Because what we've seen doesn't look like just one power."
"What you've observed isn't simply 'light' or 'darkness.'"
Ethan's expression deepened. He raised both hands.
At his fingertips, a soft golden glow flickered to life—warm and steady—while a thread of deep violet shadow coiled around the other, silent and profound.
"They are echoes from the birth of the universe," he said quietly.
"Two inseparable sides of the same coin."
The golden light grew warmer and brighter, brimming with the vitality of life itself.
"This is the Holy Light," Ethan said calmly.
"It is not 'good' in the moral sense you're used to. It represents absolute existence—order, connection, and life.
It longs for harmony and unity. It is an unwavering yes."
Then the violet shadows spread outward.
They were cold, silent, as if devouring sound and light alike.
"And this is the Void—or the Shadow.
It is not pure 'evil' either. It represents nothingness, stillness, solitude, and endings.
It questions the meaning of existence itself. It is an eternal no."
May's brow furrowed further, but she said nothing.
Ethan slowly brought his hands closer together.
Light and shadow collided, coiled, and clashed between his palms—yet instead of annihilating one another, they formed a dynamic, stable vortex of power.
"They are born as opposites. Locked in endless conflict.
But the most important truth is this—"
"They come from the same origin."
His voice lowered, taking on the cadence of an ancient epic.
"Before all existence, there was a single sleeping entity—one that contained infinite potential. We call it the Primordial World-Soul.
Then an unimaginable transformation occurred. A force yearning for absolute order shattered it.
Its annihilation became the beginning of our universe.
Its fragmented energy crystallized into the fundamental laws of reality.
And the very first things to emerge… were Light and Shadow."
Coulson leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp with curiosity.
"So your power is essentially… a remnant of the Big Bang?"
"That's a perfectly acceptable simplification," Ethan nodded.
He looked down at the balanced vortex in his hands.
"Most people can only ever touch one of these forces in their lifetime.
Those who wield the Holy Light embrace hope and connection—but risk becoming rigid, dogmatic, and absolute.
Those who pursue Shadow explore the truths of the Void—but constantly risk madness and self-erasure."
"And you?" May cut in sharply. "How do you wield both without being torn apart?"
Ethan met her gaze head-on.
"Because I understand the fundamental truth:
Without light, shadow has no meaning.
Without existence, nothingness cannot exist.
Trying to erase one side is not only futile—it denies the nature of the universe itself.
True power lies not in choosing a side…
but in maintaining balance."
He separated his hands. The light and shadow quietly dispersed.
"My power is the expression of that understanding.
I guide the Holy Light to heal and protect.
And I accept the Shadow's role in endings and silence, as part of the natural cycle.
I use order to construct barriers.
And chaos to dismantle my enemies' defenses.
When balance collapses—whether light overwhelms shadow, or shadow devours light—reality itself begins to break.
I am their… caretaker."
---
Holy hell, I have no idea what I'm even saying anymore, Ethan thought, wiping cold sweat off his soul.
Ask two more questions and this whole thing collapses.
Silence filled the room.
Coulson and May needed time to digest something that went far beyond "superpowers" and straight into cosmological philosophy.
Finally, May spoke.
"Demonstrate."
She clearly had no interest in the backstory.
"All right." Ethan shrugged and extended his hand.
A soft, warm white glow gathered in his palm, like a miniature sun.
"This is the Holy Light. Primary functions: healing and emotional stabilization."
Coulson suddenly asked, "Can it resurrect the dead?"
Ethan blinked. Then smiled.
"Seems you've done your homework. Yes—resurrection is possible. But it has severe limitations.
If death lasts too long and the soul has fully dissipated, the Holy Light can no longer function."
That's when Shadow comes in, he added silently.
He flipped his hand. The white light vanished, replaced by a dense darkness that seemed to absorb illumination itself.
"This is Shadow.
It excels at mental interference, sensory suppression, and occasionally… correcting delinquent street thugs.
Results are usually quite satisfactory."
Coulson watched closely.
"Can we test it?"
"Free trial." Ethan grinned.
He started with Holy Light, casting a healing spell on Coulson.
Warmth flooded Coulson's body, sinking deep into muscle and bone. Old aches dissolved instantly. Stiff joints loosened. He rolled his shoulders, astonished.
"Remarkable," Coulson said sincerely.
"This outperforms our most advanced rehabilitation tech."
Now came Shadow.
Ethan used one of its most dangerous control abilities—Mind Domination.
Shadow flowed silently from his fingertips, threading toward May's consciousness, attempting to seize control of her will.
If successful, he could guide her movements, speech, even emotions—turning her into a compliant puppet.
The moment the shadow touched her—
May made no dramatic movement.
She merely shifted—barely—on pure instinct.
The shadow shattered instantly, like a stream smashing against solid stone.
She stared at Ethan coolly.
Her eyes clearly said: That's it?
…That wasn't supposed to happen.
Ethan tried again. And again.
He even tried it on Coulson.
Total failure.
He withdrew his hand awkwardly, coughing.
"Ah… it appears the effectiveness drops significantly against individuals with strong willpower and professional training."
He muttered, "You wouldn't happen to have anti-mental-conditioning training, would you?"
Coulson and May neither confirmed nor denied it.
They exchanged a glance.
Assessment:
Healing and support capabilities: top-tier, irreplaceable, extreme strategic value.
Offensive and control abilities: effective against civilians, greatly reduced against trained agents.
Conclusion:
An exceptionally valuable high-tier support asset.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Rayne," Coulson said, standing smoothly.
"Your abilities are… unique.
S.H.I.E.L.D. would like to stay in contact. If we encounter certain 'health-related' issues beyond conventional solutions, we may request your assistance."
Ethan stood as well, finally relaxing.
"As long as the compensation is fair—and it doesn't violate my… 'priestly principles'—I'll be happy to help.
After all, maintaining balance is also my responsibility."
"Of course." Coulson smiled.
As he opened the door, one foot already outside, he paused as if remembering something trivial.
"Oh—Dr. Rayne. A quick reminder.
The IRS has some questions regarding your two recent one-hundred-thousand-dollar payments.
You should settle those taxes as soon as possible.
Maintaining legal compliance is an excellent habit. Please continue doing so."
Ethan's smile froze solid.
Coulson's remained gentle.
"Trust me—the IRS is far less forgiving than S.H.I.E.L.D.
They don't care whether you wield Holy Light or Shadow. To them, there are only owed taxes… and late penalties."
They left, the door closing softly behind them.
Ethan stood there for a long moment.
"…What the hell kind of government is this?"
He finally muttered.
"Resurrection and mind control? Totally fine.
Miss a little tax payment and it's like the sky's falling."