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"You'll be the best, or you'll be nothing."
- Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
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<(Atem POV)>
"No... there's no escape," Wanda murmured, shaking her head with a weary sigh. Black, root-like veins slowly crept across her face and into the whites of her eyes, throbbing faintly. "Even if I wanted to try, it wouldn't matter. They've bound my soul completely. I will never be free."
"Everyone in this reality is already lost. We live to merely follow their commands—we don't choose. We're just puppets dancing on strings pulled by those gods." She let out a bitter, hollow laugh as dark scarlet magic lit her fingers.
"There's no saving us… but maybe there's still a chance for you—and your Wanda." Her gaze sharpened with resolve. "The Many-Angled Ones, their reach stretches across this entire universe and its many realms. But like most entities beyond this plane, they can only truly manifest through a mortal vessel who is not limited by the rules of reality." As she spoke, the veins pulsed violently, her breath growing shallow as if something was trying to shut her up with pain.
"And the only mortal host in this realm strong enough to carry them all is…" She grimaced in agony as she forced out her next words through clenched teeth. "... Franklin Richards, Reed Richards's only son." She finished before her eyes turned completely black, and she leapt towards me like a deranged beast, no form of intelligence visible on her face anymore.
"I see. Thank you," I said sincerely, giving her a nod of acknowledgment—right before releasing a concentrated beam of red divine energy from my palm, disintegrating her in an instant, even before she could try using her magic. "To repay you for your help," I muttered, watching her vanish into dust, "I'll try asking Multi-Death to recover all the souls of this universe… once I'm finished with those so-called Many-Angled Gods."
As powerful as the many multiversal iterations of the Scarlet Witch could get, her physical form always stayed fundamentally human. Durability and raw speed were never her strong suits—especially when facing an opponent with superhuman reflexes and lethal attacks meant to kill in a single blow.
***
<(Omniscient POV)>
Hank Pym, also known as Giant-Man, urged the flying ant beneath him to push faster than it ever had before. With each beat of its wings, urgency pounded in the "hero's" chest. He had to reach the Baxter Building—and warn his master—before that being made his move.
The Many-Angled Gods were undeniably powerful, but Hank, one of Earth's top scientific minds, understood the value of the element of surprise better than most. Surprise was a weapon in its own right. Victory couldn't just be left to chance. He had to secure it at all costs for his masters. As Hank Pym slipped through a windowed entrance designed for airborne heroes and landed on the top floor, his mind raced—not just about the threat itself, but how to counter it without relying too heavily on his master's reality-warping abilities. Backup plans were essential… and so were backup people.
"Reed, it's a code-red situation," Pym said quickly as he spotted Reed Richards standing before a massive holographic display. "An interdimensional humanoid entity has breached our universe through some unknown means. Their likely target is our master."
"I know. I've been monitoring the situation," Reed replied, not even turning. His expression was colder—more inhuman—than most of the other corrupted heroes of this universe. Even his eyes were completely blood red as the pentagram engraved into his forehead, like all other superheroes and villains in this universe, glowed ominously.
"But don't worry. I've been analyzing his every move since the Revengers fought him. I know exactly what it'll take to bring him down," he said, eyes narrowing.
"He seems to be of a... supernatural origin, a god like Thor... only worse. Which means tech suits, mundane weapons, and supersoldiers aren't enough to cut it. We need something stronger. Stranger. Beings who pack an extra punch." A smirk crept across Reed's face as he tapped commands into a holographic keyboard. "I've already long since called in two perfect candidates for that. They are en route."
"Two? That's not enough… we need more—preferably everyone," Hank Pym shot back firmly. "Call the other Defenders of the Realm. Get the Ex-Men involved. And maybe reach out to the sorcerers at Kamar-Taj too. They may have lost most of their power, but at the very least, they can be a distraction. If every superhuman and sorcerer on Earth joins forces—and with the Galactus Engine—we can crush that false god. No matter how strong he is, he won't stand a chance."
"That's not possible," Reed replied flatly. "The sorcerers are busy holding the line against the dimensionlords who are trying to consume our timeline and can't be pulled away. The Galactus Engine is currently deployed to exterminate the Brood, since those creatures do not have a part in Master's brilliant plans.
As for the Ex-Men, half are battling the machine resistance led by Vision, while the rest—along with the remaining Defenders and Inhumans—are locked in war against the Asgardians in Valhalla. Those brutes may be corrupted beyond recognition, but with Hela still clinging to the last embers of Death's power, they've managed to resist the Master's will. She's trying to carve out a realm of her own… pathetic. She'll kneel eventually, but she's made it irritatingly difficult.
And don't count on outside help. Every intergalactic army—Kree, Shi'ar, Skrulls—they're tied up fighting the Phalanx led by Ultron, who is, by the way, your creation. So, reinforcements aren't coming." Reed said matter-of-factly.
"You think those petty rebellions matter more than stopping him?" Hank snapped. "I watched him incinerate Hulk in under a minute. He shattered Thor's hammer like glass. And he fought the God of Thunder head-on before putting him down quite easily. He's not someone we can afford to underestimate. Let me speak to the Master," he continued, turning toward the direction of the sealed ritual chamber where the possessed Franklin Richards focused on mastering the full extent of his reality-altering power. "I can advise him in this better than you—show him the most effective way to eliminate this threat."
But before Hank could take even a single step, Reed's elastic arm twisted into a spear and lunged forward, piercing clean through Hank's chest.
"You idiot," Reed hissed, sneering as he twisted the weaponized limb. "You thought you could outmaneuver me? Become the Master's new favorite while I still breathe?" He gave a humorless laugh. "Janet was right—you've always lacked the intellect."
With a single, fluid motion, he tore Hank's heart from his chest.
"Don't worry. Of course, you won't die. But you won't be interfering in my plans either." He stepped back, watching Hank collapse in a pool of his own blood. "The Ftaghn Four will be the ones to capture the entity. We will be the ones to uncover the secret of multiversal travel. The cosmic entities may have sealed us in this timeline… but once we learn how that intruder crossed over, we'll bring the Master's gift to every universe."
Reed's voice rose with manic conviction.
"That's what the Master desires—and I will be the one to deliver it. I will always be his favorite. After all, who else had the will to sacrifice their own son to become their host?" A manic smile slowly crept across Reed's face—unnaturally wide, stretched grotesquely by the elasticity of his features. It twisted and warped his expression into something deeply unsettling, radiating an ominous glee that made even the air around him feel colder.
***
<(Atem POV)>
"Huh. I guess I should've known they'd send you two next," I said with a dry chuckle, confidently facing down the corrupted versions of Doctor Strange and Captain Mar-Vell who were floating in the air before me. "Honestly, if I were in your shoes, I would've gone bigger—Odin, Thor, Jean, Ororo, maybe even Galactus. But I guess your leader thinks raw force is enough to take me down… or maybe he's playing at some deeper endgame." I shrugged, glancing back as I recalled how uneven power levels had become in this particular universe. Some had grown stronger, sure—but others, like the sorcerers, had noticeably weakened.
Jean was probably one of them. If she'd lost access to the Phoenix Force, she wouldn't nearly be as dangerous. Just like Wanda—who couldn't fully tap into her chaos magic without the Darkhold.
But then, why Strange? I thought to myself, stepping away from Wanda's fallen body with a hint of irritation. 'He's a sorcerer too. If the others are diminished, shouldn't he be as well?'
Of course, there was a reason for my annoyance. Recently, I had been trying to use my Rinnegan's special ability, which I once possessed, to transform weakened or dead beings into fruits and consume them to absorb all their powers and abilities. If I could have converted some of the bodies of this universe's superhumans into fruits, I would be broken beyond reason. But it was clear now—my new eyes didn't have that particular ability anymore, just like it didn't have Susanoo. No matter how hard I focused, they just wouldn't activate.
As a matter of fact, this loss felt less like a natural byproduct of evolution and more like a deliberate nerf—like whoever allowed my ocular evolution in the first place intended to clip my wings, to stop me from cheesing my way to godhood by harvesting every fallen powerhouse in this universe.
Honestly, it was aggravating as hell—but there wasn't much I could do about it. That's one of the downsides of relying on a system. The administrators or creators of the system could tweak, limit, or straight-up override the system's functions whenever they damn well pleased.
'But that just means I need to surpass those bastards.' I resolved silently. 'Either take full control of my own system… or find a way around it entirely.'
The thought solidified like steel in my mind—just as I felt my eyes begin to glow with power.
Dr. Strange had raised his hands, arcane symbols already spinning in the air around his palms to cast his first spell, but suddenly, the spell circle glitched with dozens of cracks developing on its surface as if it were glass—before finally completely shattering into nothingness, vanishing as if someone had pulled the plug on its power.
"What?" Doctor Strange froze, eyes wide, his hands trembling slightly. He stared at his palms as they'd betrayed him. "Why… why can't I cast any magic?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief and a flicker of fear. He looked like a deer caught in headlights—caught off guard in a way the Sorcerer Supreme rarely was.
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(A/N:Hey everyone, it's been a while. I owe you all an apology for the sudden disappearance. The past couple of weeks have been… rough, to say the least. ScribbleHub ended up deleting all my stories and every single chapter because I mentioned my Pat-reon in the contents, which apparently goes against their policies. Unfortunately, I had all my drafts and story notes saved there, thinking it was the safest and most accessible place to keep everything while writing. Stupid me😭.
So yeah… I lost it all. I had to go back, reread my own fanfics, and rebuild every draft and note from scratch. It was frustrating, exhausting, and honestly pretty discouraging. There was a point where I seriously considered quitting altogether. But at the end of the day, I genuinely love writing, and I want to see my stories through to the end. I'm just not the kind of person who can leave things unfinished.
So here I am—back again. Thank you to everyone who's been patient and stuck around. I'm really hoping things go smoother from here on out, and that I don't run into another situation like this again, where stuff gets deleted because I didn't bother to learn a platform's rules.
Let's keep going😀😁)
GIVE me POWAH-STONES💎💎💎.
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