Chapter 167: Hunger of the Stars
The sky tore open. Phoenix cut through atmosphere like a blade, trailing fire that painted the heavens crimson. Within seconds she was gone, beyond Earth's air, nothing but a streak of golden flame arcing into the void.
Down below, the X-Men lay scattered like broken toys. Storm staggered to her feet first, hair matted to her brow with rain and sweat.
"By the Goddess… she is gone."
Colossus dragged himself upright, steel chest dented where Phoenix had forced him into the ground. His deep voice cracked, half despair, half fury.
"She… she was sister to us. And now she has become… this."
Nightcrawler bamfed closer, smoke curling around his trembling frame. His yellow eyes dimmed with grief.
"Nein, mein freund. She has not become. She has been taken."
Cyclops forced himself to stand, hand trembling on his visor. His ribs screamed, his head still pounding from psychic backlash, but his voice cut sharp.
"No. Jean's still in there. She has to be." He glanced at Logan. "Tell me I'm right."
Logan's silence weighed heavier than any blow. His nostrils flared, trying to catch that last, faint whiff of Jean beneath the firestorm scent. He found nothing. His jaw locked.
"…She's in there. Somewhere. But the thing ridin' her? Ain't lettin' go easy."
Thunderbird spat blood and staggered over.
"Then we go after her. We don't just sit around waitin' for round two."
Before Cyclops could answer, the air throbbed with engines. A Quinjet roared overhead, descending fast, thrusters kicking dirt into their faces. The ramp hissed open and a familiar blue-furred figure bounded down.
"Great galloping galaxies—what in blazes happened to you all?" Hank McCoy adjusted his glasses, eyes wide at the sight of his team strewn across the field. "The reports spoke of an assault on the Hellfire Club, but this—this looks like Ragnarok on a budget."
Logan grunted, brushing dust off his shredded uniform.
"Don't sugarcoat it, Hank. We got our tails handed to us by our own teammate."
Storm's voice dropped low, haunted.
"Not Jean. Phoenix."
Beast froze, lips curling around the name.
"…Good Lord."
---
Above them, in the cold vacuum of space, Jean Grey was no longer Jean.
The Phoenix flared brighter than Earth's moon, wings of fire stretching across the void as she ripped a stargate open with a casual sweep of her hand. The tear yawned wide, space folding and screaming as she stepped through.
On the other side, an alien sun burned golden-red. A system thriving with planets, trade routes glittering like spider webs across its sky. The Phoenix hung there, suspended before the star like a moth before flame.
Her voice purred, low and hungry.
"So bright… so alive… so mine."
She plunged into the star.
The sun shrieked. Its surface rippled, convulsing as Phoenix drank it dry. Solar flares lashed outward, uncontrolled. A nearby planet—a thriving green world with oceans and cities glittering beneath its atmosphere—caught the blast full force.
Its crust peeled away like paper. Oceans boiled. Towers of light crumbled. Within moments, billions screamed their last breath, their home world consumed in a supernova's fury.
Phoenix emerged wreathed in stellar fire, eyes ablaze, lips curled in ecstasy.
"More…"
---
Not far away, aboard a Shi'ar cruiser, alarms wailed. Officers scrambled at their stations, feathers bristling, faces drained of color. The captain clutched the rail, staring out at the dying planet.
"By the stars—an entire world—gone!"
A comms officer turned, voice trembling.
"Captain, the energy signature… it matches ancient records. It matches the Phoenix."
The captain's eyes widened in horror.
"Transmit to the Empress. Now! Before this monster reaches us."
The ship wheeled, weapons locking onto the figure still drinking the sun. A volley of plasma spears streaked through the void.
Phoenix tilted her head lazily. With a single thought, the spears froze mid-flight, then detonated, shredding the cruiser's own shields in the backlash.
Her gaze sharpened.
"You dare bite the fire?"
She raised her hand. The cruiser twisted, groaned, then imploded like a tin can crushed in a giant's fist. Thousands of Shi'ar perished in a heartbeat, their last scream lost to the vacuum.
But before the core went dark, before the fire swallowed everything, a signal escaped—beamed faster-than-light into the Shi'ar throneworld.
Empress Lilandra sat rigid in her chamber when the hologram unfolded before her: a raptor of fire, wings unfurled across the cosmos, its heart the shape of Jean Grey.
Her face drained of all color.
"No… not her. Not Jean."
The chamber fell silent. Advisors shifted nervously.
Lilandra's voice was soft, but it shook with iron.
"Summon the Council. This… Phoenix… threatens the universe itself."
---
Back on Earth, Beast finished bandaging Thunderbird's arm, his usually jovial tone absent.
"My friends… I fear we are no longer dealing with a crisis of Earthly scale. What Jean has become—it may bring galactic consequence."
Logan lit a cigar with shaking hands, smoke curling around his face. His voice was gravel.
"Consequences don't matter. I'm goin' after her."
Cyclops straightened, visor catching the sun. His voice was steel.
"No. We are going after her. Together. She's one of us. And I'll die before I let her slip away without a fight."
The team exchanged looks—fear, resolve, grief. But one by one, they nodded.
Above, unseen, the stars themselves seemed to shudder.