Chapter 49: Even the Mighty Pay Taxes
"All right." He cleared his throat, composed himself, and his expression turned solemn. "Strictly speaking, I'm a priest."
"A priest?"
May's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly.
Coulson kept his smile. "As in, belief in God?"
"No, not the kind of faith you're thinking of." Ethan shook his head, interlacing his fingers on the table. "All of this begins at a far more fundamental level. Have either of you heard of 'astral projection' or 'out-of-body experiences'?"
"Many people experience it when near death," Ethan began. "Some call it the 'soul,' others the 'spirit,' but it refers to the same core—a non-material consciousness."
"In spiritual theory this isn't an illusion; it's consciousness briefly leaving the physical shell and touching a purely 'spiritual plane.' A realm we call the Universal Spirit."
He leaned forward slightly, trying to make it clearer. "It gathers every fragment of departed consciousness—knowledge, emotion, memory, every spiritual residue."
"Imagine that in that state an obscure book you've never read appears clearly before your 'eyes,' yet when you return to your body most of that information slips away like sand through your fingers."
He paused and offered a more everyday example.
"Or have you ever practiced a skill over and over with zero progress, then after a night's sleep you suddenly get it and your proficiency jumps?"
"That may be because while you slept your 'spirit' briefly touched that repository of knowledge and brought back a spark of insight."
"And I," Ethan pointed to himself, "am an extreme case of that."
"At nine I nearly died from a severe illness and had a profound out-of-body experience."
"I seemed to drift through that ocean of consciousness, brushing countless indescribable fragments of knowledge mixed with all kinds of information."
"When I was resuscitated, those files were sealed away, unlocking only as I grew older and gradually surfacing in my mind."
May seized the key point at once: "That's the source of your abilities?"
"Yes," Ethan admitted openly. "I can't tell whether the data came from the future, the past, the present, or some parallel universe. It's like a field of information mixed across countless timelines, and for some reason I connected to it—and can't disconnect." He spread his hands helplessly.
Coulson and May frowned for a moment; the explanation sounded plausible, at least impossible to disprove.
"Fine, background understood." Coulson focused on the ability itself. "So could you explain what your power actually is? It seems… to have more than one manifestation."
"What you've seen isn't simply 'light' and 'dark.'" Ethan's expression turned profound again. He raised both hands; a soft golden glow danced on one fingertip while a deep violet shadow flickered on the other. "They are the echoes from the birth of the universe—two inseparable sides of the same coin."
The golden light grew warm and bright, brimming with the essence of life.
"This is the Holy Light. It isn't 'good' as you usually define it. It stands for absolute existence, order, connection, life. It longs for harmony and unity—a firm 'yes.'"
Immediately the violet shadow spread, carrying cold silence, seeming to devour all light and sound.
"This is the Void, or the Shadow. It isn't pure 'evil' either. It represents nothingness, silence, solitude, ending. It questions the meaning of existence—an eternal 'no.'"
May's frown deepened, but she stayed silent.
Ethan slowly brought his hands together; light and shadow clashed and coiled between his palms yet didn't annihilate each other, instead forming a dynamically stable vortex of energy. "They are born opponents, locked in perpetual struggle, but the crucial point is—they stem from the same origin."
His voice dropped as if reciting an ancient epic.
"Before anything existed there was only a dormant being of infinite possibility—the Primal World-Soul. Then an unimaginable cataclysm occurred: a force craving absolute order tore it apart. Its death became the dawn of our universe. Its fragments of energy became the fundamental laws of reality—and the first things born were Light and Shadow."
Coulson leaned forward slightly, eyes full of fascination and contemplation. "So… your power essentially comes from the legacy of the Big Bang?"
"You could put it that way." Ethan nodded.
He looked down at the steadily rotating vortex of light and shadow in his hand.
"Light and Shadow—most people spend their lives choosing and mastering only one. Wielders of the Holy Light embrace hope and connection, yet risk becoming rigid and fanatical; seekers of the Void probe the secrets of nothingness, but always teeter on the edge of madness."
"And you?" May's voice was calm and direct, cutting to the heart. "How can you wield these two opposing forces without being torn apart or destroyed?"
Ethan met her scrutinizing gaze. "Because I grasped the most fundamental truth: without Light there is no Shadow; without existence there is no void. Trying to eliminate either side is not only futile, it denies the very nature of the universe. True power lies not in fanatically choosing one side, but in understanding and maintaining the dynamic balance between them."
He parted his hands, and the energies of light and shadow quietly dispersed.
"My power is the embodiment of this understanding. I guide the Holy Light to heal and to protect, yet I also embrace the ending and silence that Shadow represents, seeing it as a necessary part of nature's cycle. With the force of Order I raise barriers, and with the tide of Chaos I unravel an enemy's assault."
"When balance is broken—whether light extinguishes shadow or shadow devours light—reality collapses. I am their… guardian."
Dear God, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Two more questions and I'll be completely out of BS. That should do it, Ethan wiped imaginary sweat from his brow internally.
The room sank into a long silence. Coulson and May needed time to digest this cosmology of power that went far beyond standard "enhanced abilities."
At last May broke the hush. "Demonstrate." She clearly had zero interest in grand metaphysical theories.
"All right." Ethan shrugged and obligingly lifted a palm.
A soft, warm white radiance pooled above his hand like a miniature sun. "This is the 'Holy Light'—mainly for healing and soothing minds."
Coulson asked abruptly, "Can it bring people back from the dead?"
"Er—" Ethan blinked, then smiled. "You've done your homework. Yes, resurrection is possible, but the limits are strict. If the soul has dispersed after too long, Holy Light won't work."
Only Shadow can manage then, he silently added.
He turned his hand; the white light vanished, replaced by a clump of dark shadow that seemed to swallow light itself. "This is 'Shadow,' good for mental interference and sensory manipulation. Occasionally used to educate unruly criminals—results… usually satisfactory."
Coulson watched with keen interest. "Mind if we test it live?"
"Of course—free demonstration." Ethan grinned. He first channeled Holy Light toward Coulson, casting a healing spell on him.
The gentle glow sank in; Coulson felt a warmth seep to his bones, old aches and stiffness melting away like snow in sunshine. He flexed an arm in surprise—movement utterly fluid.
"Remarkable," Coulson praised. "More effective than our best physical therapy equipment."
For the Shadow test, Ethan chose its riskiest control ability—Mind Domination.
Shadow seeped out soundlessly, sliding like silk threads from his fingertips, coiling toward May's mind to usurp her will.
If it succeeded, he could "guide" her actions, speech, even emotions through Shadow, turning the target into an obedient puppet.
Yet the moment the shadow touched May, she shifted with an instinctive, minute precision; the energy shattered like water hitting stone.
May's expression stayed flat, her cool eyes telling Ethan one word: "That's it?"
That shouldn't happen… Out of practice with Shadow?
He tried twice more, even on Coulson—failures both.
Ethan withdrew his hand, cleared his throat. "A-hem… seems the effect drops sharply against strong-willed, highly trained personnel."
He couldn't help muttering, "Did you two take some special course—mental resistance training or something?"
Coulson and May neither confirmed nor denied.
They exchanged another glance. Assessment obvious:
Healing & support: top-tier, immense strategic value;
Offensive & control: effective on civilians, drastically weaker on trained agents.
Overall rating: combat ability above average citizens, below veteran field operatives. An invaluable premier support specialist.
"Very well, Dr. Rayne , thank you for your cooperation." Coulson stood, resuming his impeccable professionalism.
"Your abilities are… unique. S.H.I.E.L.D. would like to stay in touch. Should we encounter… 'medical' issues beyond conventional means, we may need your professional assistance."
Ethan rose too, relieved. "As long as compensation is fair and it doesn't violate my… 'clerical principles,' I'm glad to help. Maintaining cosmic balance is my duty too, right?"
"Indeed." Coulson smiled, heading for the door with May. Hand on the knob, one foot outside, he turned as if recalling something minor:
"Oh, Dr. Rayne , a reminder: the IRS has questions about your recent two wire transfers of a hundred thousand dollars each. Best file those taxes promptly. Keeping things legal is an excellent habit—do stick to it."
Ethan's smile froze on his face.
Coulson's grin stayed mild. "Trust me, the IRS is far less agreeable than S.H.I.E.L.D. They care nothing for Holy Light or Shadow—only unpaid taxes and late penalties."
With that, Coulson and May left the clinic, closing the door gently.
Ethan stood alone. After a long moment: "Damn federal government—completely unfazed by resurrection and mind control, but miss a few bucks in taxes and they lose their minds!"
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