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New York. Manhattan.
The first snow of 2016 fell overnight, and by morning the city was covered in a heavy layer of white.
In the backyard at 521A Palm Street, a snowman sat under a huge tree.
From far away, it looked neat and almost human.
But up close, it was Hawk.
He sat cross-legged under the bare branches, eyes half-closed, letting the snow bury him completely. He was trying the classic Buddha-under-the-tree approach.
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Inside the Phoenix Universe, Above the River of Time.
Hawk had already entered the forbidden territory of the Eighth Sense, the sense that governs Life itself. He stared at the huge doorway that stood for it. It seemed close enough to touch, but also impossibly far away.
He lifted his right foot to cross the threshold...
The instant he moved, the silence ripped open. A foul wind screamed through the void, and countless wraiths poured out of the darkness, ignoring every defense he had. They swarmed his front, his back, his feet, latching on, dragging him down.
More of them fused together around his ankle, locking it in place so he couldn't put his foot down.
"Hehehe."
"No... You shall not pass!"
"Hawk Phoenix, you butcher!"
"Murderer!"
"You don't get to step here!"
"Give us back Wakanda... hundreds of thousands of lives!"
"Give us back Talokan... hundreds of thousands of lives!"
"Give us back the Heaven Dimension..."
"Give us—"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
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Hawk's eyes snapped open under the tree in Manhattan, ripped out of the vision by the agonizing screams of the vengeful dead echoing in his mind.
A shockwave of Phoenix Force detonated off his skin in a perfect ring.
In an instant, the snow in the yard disappeared. The ground turned completely dry. The air seemed to shimmer.
Hawk stayed where he was. He just shifted his weight, his right knee bent and steady, his left leg relaxed to the side. Phoenix Fire engulfed him. Inside the flames, black smoke rose, revealing screaming faces that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
Phoenix Fire is the fire of life. It is also the fire of karmic retribution. It burns away debt completely.
When the flames finally died down, the endless horde of wraiths that had followed him back from the Eighth Sense threshold were gone, turned to ash on a wind that wasn't there.
Hawk looked straight ahead, his expression giving nothing away.
Ever since he'd burned an entire galaxy to project himself to Universe-828 and see his pregnant wife Gwen, he'd come home and gone full hermit. No calls, no visitors. Just him locked inside, pouring all his focus into unlocking the Eighth Sense.
He had cheated the Sixth Sense. He used the Phoenix's trick, since it never really dies but just burns and returns, pushing himself right to the edge of death and crossing over.
He had also cheated the Seventh Sense. He used the Mind Stone's endless mental power to enter the golden Micro-Universe of the seventh sense.
But the Eighth Sense doesn't let you cheat.
Because the core essence of the Eighth is Life itself.
No shortcuts. Every single entity understands "Life" differently.
In Marvel terms, the Eighth Sense means lighting your own Divine Spark. You cannot be called a God until you can do that on your own.
Ego the Living Planet defined his life as an infection. Treat his genetic material like a virus, spread his seed, and assimilate the universe cell by cell.
Odin defined his as Conquest. Conquer the Nine Realms, then the cosmos.
Unfortunately, both of them died halfway through their grand master plans.
Hawk could learn from them, but he could not copy them. Copying would mean death.
So he spent the weeks after coming home thinking about their ideas, searching for his own meaning.
And he found it.
[Singularity]
He has crossed worlds. His soul stands alone. Other versions of him might exist in the multiverse, but they are only faint reflections. He is the true original.
All his power comes back to him. He is the Phoenix. He is the World Tree. He is his own Phoenix Universe.
He chose the word Singularity to define his existence. As soon as he did, a massive gateway to the Eighth Sense appeared from the cosmic void.
If he stepped through that door, he would no longer be Hawk Phoenix. He would become Phoenix Prime, fully joined with the source that matched him completely. He would become a true cosmic deity.
Except, he couldn't even walk up to the damn door.
There were two reasons.
First, the prime universe itself.
This universe has decided it will not allow a second full Transcendence. It does not matter if this is pure instinct or if Gargaratus left some hidden failsafe behind.
The policy is simple: No more Zeuses.
So every single time Hawk lifts his foot, every enemy on his timeline that wants him dead—known threats and things that haven't even shown their faces yet—surges out of the ether, dragging him down and physically stopping him from moving forward.
Second, his own baggage.
But living by the golden rule of blaming others rather than yourself bored Hawk.
"That bastard Zeus," Hawk muttered under the tree. "What the hell did you actually do when you Transcended?"
Logically, the universe should be happy to see him leave. It already hates him, but cannot force him out. If he Transcended and left, it would be a win for both sides. The universe should be welcoming him to go.
Instead, every time he tries, it feels like the universe would rather destroy itself and take him with it than let him go.
Unless Thanos lied, and Gargaratus never actually left...
But that was impossible. Hawk noticed something strange a few days ago and quickly went to Titan. Officially, he went to pay his respects for Thanos's one-week death anniversary. Unofficially, he went to examine Thanos's body and run a full autopsy. The body was clean. Gargaratus was gone.
Which left the universe itself.
So the only working theory Hawk had was that his predecessor did something so incredibly screwed up that the whole prime multiverse is still mad about it.
He frowned.
"Did that guy actually eat his native universe on his way out?"
At first, it sounded crazy. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It was the only way to explain why a universe that hates you would fight so hard to keep you.
Hawk's face darkened.
To truly comprehend the Eighth Sense, he has to leave this universe...
To leave this universe, he has to awaken the Eighth Sense...
Great. He was stuck in a real infinite loop.
"Shit."
"Uh... excuse me?" Wanda, who had just slid the patio door open, caught the tail end of it and frowned at him.
Hawk snapped back to attention. He stood up, and the heavy snow slid off him. "Sorry. Wasn't talking to you. What brings you by so early?"
"Jean wants you to help her build a snowman," Wanda said honestly.
The next second, a five-year-old head popped out from behind Wanda's legs, beaming a brilliant smile before launching herself at him.
"Daddy! Let's build a snowman!" Hawk caught his daughter Jean mid-flight.
"Alright, let's—"
"No." Wanda crossed her arms, giving a stern look to Jean, who was currently hanging off Hawk's neck. "You haven't had breakfast yet. Eat first, play later."
Jean looked up at Hawk, negotiating with her eyes. "But I'm not hungry, Daddy."
Hawk met his daughter's pleading gaze, then looked at Wanda's deadpan expression, and immediately sided with the adult in the room. "Listen to your mom. Breakfast first."
Jean blinked. "Fine."
"Come on," Hawk chuckled, carrying her inside from the yard.
Wanda walked into the kitchen as if she owned it, which she pretty much did. She opened the fridge and started taking out ingredients.
Hawk and Jean sat on the stools at the kitchen island, both watching Wanda work like baby birds waiting to be fed.
Half an hour later, breakfast was served.
The classic spread. One plate for Hawk, one for Jean.
Wanda took off her apron, wiped the counters, and sat across from them, watching Jean eat with careful attention.
Hawk chewed his sandwich, his gaze slowly drifting off.
"Your mental state is a mess," Wanda said.
Hawk snapped back. "Hmm?"
Wanda didn't repeat herself—she just studied him. Then she lifted both hands, paused mid-air as a thought crossed her mind, and shot him a questioning look for permission.
Hawk caught the look, understood immediately, and leaned forward a little.
Wanda smiled, just a faint, warm curve of her lips. She reached out, her slender fingers glowing with chaotic red magic, and gently pressed her fingertips against his temples.
The next second...
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