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The Void...
'...Okay, maybe we wasted more time in that Apocalypse Multiverse than needed,' Aragorn admitted.
'But it was entertaining,' Phoenix argued. 'And we kept dying, so I couldn't fully study its laws.'
'...Okay, I can't deny that,' Aragorn conceded.
'I know,' Phoenix commented. 'Can you tell how long is left for the next Multiverse?'
'Our target Multiverse is still a ways away,' Aragorn informed her, 'but the next Multiverse is just around the paradoxical corner.'
A few impossible twists and turns in the absence of everything later, they arrived at the next pit stop.
'...Smallish.'
'Are all Multiverses small, and the bigger ones a rarity?' Phoenix asked.
While larger than the previous Multiverses, it was still small—nothing compared to their home Multiverse.
'I said smallish, not small,' Aragorn said. 'This one is actually not that small, but the power ceiling is low, so it gives the feeling of being small.'
'I don't know, I have our Multiverse as the standard,' Phoenix said.
'Marvel is one of the Multiverses that reach omnipotence. Obviously, your standard is skewed,' Aragorn said.
'Maybe you're right...' Phoenix said, not wanting to argue since she lacked knowledge about The Void. 'So? Is it one you recognize?'
'I'm still checking...' Aragorn said, dragging out his words. 'Yeah, I recognize it!'
'You do?' Phoenix asked with interest.
'...Yeah, but it's not one I know in detail. The last time I went over this story was before I acquired my perfected soul memory, so what I know of it is based on what I sporadically thought of it rather than factual knowledge,' he said.
'Don't leave me hanging—transfer the memory,' she impatiently urged.
'It's Akame ga Kill, a story about a group of rebels trying to fight against a cesspool-like empire,' Aragorn shared his memory.
'It's... beautiful,' Phoenix said, enthralled by it.
'Eh? Is it? What's wrong with your tastes?' Aragorn asked, shocked.
'It's about the fight for change, for evolution, striving for more against all odds... exactly as life is meant to be and has always been,' Phoenix explained. 'Against all odds, life exists. Scarcity, adversity, tribulations, and death are some of the factors and conditions where life truly flourishes, and this Multiverse is filled with the right amount of it.'
'...That's an interesting take on it,' Aragorn admitted. 'Do you want to go inside?'
'Not now,' Phoenix declined. 'I want to take my time with it, so I'd rather we revisit on our way back.'
'That's an option too. Then let's be on our way—the next Multiverse feels closer than I expected,' Aragorn said. 'Maybe it shifted locations while we moved.'
Once more, through the vast prairies of absence and emptiness, under the shade of the magnificent trees of nullity, Aragorn and Phoenix moved toward the next Multiverse.
'Oh?' Phoenix uttered in surprise. 'It's large.'
'...It is,' Aragorn said after a moment of thought.
'What is it?' she asked. 'You don't seem eager.'
'It's a cultivator world,' Aragorn shared. 'I'd rather we avoid those.'
'Why? Shouldn't the power ceiling allow us to enter fully?' Phoenix asked.
'The problem is the inhabitants,' he said. 'While most cultivator worlds don't have a fixed creator—just some seat of power reserved for the most powerful—the ceiling is high enough that we won't be able to enter stealthily.'
'How is that a problem?' Phoenix tilted her head. 'Can't we just burn them all if they come for us?'
'Yes, but then what? The psychos will only see us as a resource for their heaven-defying cultivation. They wouldn't stop coming after us, and even if we killed the entire higher strata, the Multiverse would crumble from our clash,' Aragorn explained. 'Until I find a way to max out my stealth stat, I'd rather we don't enter cultivation worlds—unless you're itching for wanton destruction and unending fights against self-important, arrogant bastards.'
'...Let's move to the next one,' Phoenix said.
Once again, voyaging through the calm waters of the ocean of vacuity, aided by the gentle winds of nothingness, Aragorn and Phoenix arrived at another Multiverse.
'...'
'...'
'...'
'...'
Phoenix and Aragorn silently observed the newfound Multiverse, mouths agape—Aragorn had even taken a humanoid shape just to express his shock.
'...I feel filthy just by staring,' Phoenix said.
'I feel like my already lacking purity is being marred the longer we look,' Aragorn added.
Yet, contrary to their words, both were transfixed.
It was a hentai world. A Multiverse based on countless stories, with infinite timelines and variations, yet all sharing the same theme: sex.
'Why are there so many elves falling to orcs?' Phoenix asked.
'Orcs, goblins, slimes, tentacle monsters, and more... it's like the entire race was created to be sexually corrupted,' Aragorn commented.
'And what's the deal with priestesses and nuns?' Phoenix asked.
'The closer something is to purity, the more it is corrupted in this Multiverse,' Aragorn observed.
'I thought mortals cared about marital unions. Why would they go through with them if they planned to be unfaithful this much?' Phoenix questioned.
'We'd have a way easier time counting the successful marriages. It's like the whole point of marriage in this Multiverse is NTR,' Aragorn remarked.
'...'
'...'
'...Do you want to stay and watch for a bit longer?' Aragorn asked.
'...Yes... for research purposes...' she said, dragging out her words. 'But I dare not step inside there!' Phoenix exclaimed.
'Neither do I,' Aragorn quickly claimed. 'I feel danger from this place,' he added while making a pulling motion and stepping behind something.
Phoenix couldn't see what it was, but in front of Aragorn stood Void-chan. He was hugging her from behind, cautiously peeking over her shoulder.
'...I'll see if I can draw some inspiration from this place. Maybe Noona is interested in trying some of this stuff,' Aragorn commented.
'It's not a bad idea,' Phoenix nodded. 'I'll see if Jean is interested. I might get to enjoy the experience through her.'
'Yeah...'
'...We're not in a hurry...'
'...So let's stay for a while...'
'...For research...'
'...Of course.'
Phoenix and Aragorn finished each other's sentences, and with Aragorn hiding behind Void-chan and Phoenix collecting data, they decided to remain there.
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Earth-199999.
~5,224 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 3,200 BCE (Before Current Era).
Cuneiform was created, and the first literary piece ever written was about me—A'Heelah, to be precise. Should I be flattered? Maybe. It was a heartfelt prayer for my healing, included in a tale about my origins, written by a kid with too much time and a healthy pair of arms to engrave the prayer onto a stone slab.
The story was all wrong, but that's inevitable, just as it is for them to change my name from century to century.
Like many of the others, the story was about how I was part of the pantheon of deities they worshipped and how I was placed in the world to do their healing.
Either way, I had fun reading it, so I did the kid a solid. I found a good girl—good by their definition in this era—and paired them up. The kid was ugly as a Deadpool; his face had been mauled by a wolf when he was a child, so I fixed that through the good girl. That's how they fell in love. However, in their eyes, the credit for the healing miracle went to one of the deities they worshipped.
That was alright with me. If I had established a precedent of granting healing in exchange for literary pieces, before long, all humanity would write about would be me, and that makes me feel uncomfortable.
The world kept changing and developing, and now humanity was starting to show its characteristic speed at progressing. Upper and Lower Egypt would soon be united by Narmer (Menes), founding the First Dynasty and marking the start of Pharaonic Egypt.
In the Indus Valley (modern Pakistan & India), the earliest farming villages, such as Mehrgarh, were transitioning into proto-urban centers.
These urban centers were becoming the bases for the Harappan Civilization, and for the time, they were certainly advanced, with drains and irrigation systems.
Their language was one of those lost to time back in my original universe and my home universe, I took the chance to learn it and add it to the Nortern Scale of Light.
Sumer had started building ziggurats not long ago to worship their deities.
(Ziggurats are temples, also the predecessors of the 'modern' pyramids.)
Noah's descendants did an excellent job spreading the use of bronze, and with that, the Stone Age came to an end—not in Wakanda, though. Those guys had been riding a different ship long ago.
Things weren't just progressing on Earth; Asgard kept growing under the rule of Bor Burison and its prince, Odin Borson. Odin became famous in the divine circles when, shortly into his adulthood, he fought and bested Surtur.
In the dreary and gray corners of Svartálfheim, Malekith grew confident enough to try and turn the lights off in the universe during the next Convergence. Alflyse felt quite conflicted about it.
Personally, what I'm most joyous about is the impregnations of several of my maids; they finally stopped holding back on me. However, I doubt this generation will have the time to grow past the seventh tail before we return to my universe.
Then came Babel. Initially, they were trying to replicate my Obelisks because they reasoned that the Great Flood had happened because my Obelisks had disappeared—despite me telling them multiple times that was not the reason and that the Obelisks would one day return.
Somehow, they twisted that into them having to prove themselves and decided to build a ziggurat matching my Obelisks... Okay, this sounds oddly familiar to the original tale of the Tower of Babel.
To be honest, the original history of Babel confuses me. The punishment is meant to divide humanity after they try to reach the heavens—something about Yahweh trying to remind humanity of their limits and quell their ambition. But I feel like unity and ambition were not deserving of punishment.
Let's talk about the Duskari. They spent eras trying to reach us—that's how idolatry through imitation works—and we never saw a problem with that. So what if they tried to circumvent us and reach our standing? We even reward it. I truly see no problem with ambition born out of trying to reach our level. Shouldn't Yahweh have felt flattered that humanity was trying to reach heaven?
I understand the need to teach your little brother a lesson when he thinks he can reach your level, but wasn't this lesson too costly for humanity?
He is omnipotent—on paper, at least—so why would he care if humanity was trying to reach the heavens? Alas, I was never that good with religion and deeper meanings. I was a terrible believer.
Then we have the whole unity aspect. Unity should not have been taken away as a form of punishment. According to the myth, that was the last time humanity was unified as a whole.
Despite all of my confusion in grasping the lesson of the story and its symbolism, I didn't care enough about it and went ahead and messed with the linguistic centers of all of them.
They turned into drunks trying to understand each other—it was funny to watch. Maybe that's the real reason behind it. Maybe Yahweh was peeved at them for trying to reach his divinity and decided to prank them.
The remnants of Babel—I decided to finish what they had planned to do. Obviously, the tower would never reach the heavens, nor even achieve skyscraper status, but for its era, it was an ambitious project deserving of praise.
Using my telekinesis, I cut the stone into the necessary construction 'bricks,' fitting each piece like a puzzle and making as many minor corrections as needed while staying true to its essence. Then, I added a pinch of magic and a dab of script, transforming each floor into a garden.
Each garden was thematic—one filled with flowers, another with vegetables and produce, medicinal plants, timber woods, and more. I then created an irrigation system based on gravity, with a reservoir on the topmost floor. To ensure sustainability, I cast an influencing spell so that rain would always fall when needed, right above the tower.
Finally, I engraved an inscription:
Babel Tower, finished by Aragorn. From an admirer to you, humanity, who dared to defy your limits. May you find the wisdom to know which limits to break and which ones to cherish.
There was never proof of Babel—until now. I wonder how that will change things. Exciting!
I waited a few years after they dispersed and then brought out my Obelisks from the cloaking veil. It coincided with the harvest festivals done before winter—on the winter solstice—and that fueled their celebrations further.
The return of my Obelisks was both a matter of celebration and concern for the humans. Because I veiled the structures and hid them between space layers, the Obelisks literally disappeared and reappeared. Of course, magic, sorcery, mysticism, or whatever you wanna call it, is prevalent on this Earth, thanks to the Duskari custodians of the Obelisks. But still, seeing something so massive suddenly appear sent their ignorant minds into a frenzy.
Humans aside, Selene—my point of contact with the annoyances known as deities—informed me that Cronus had been losing sleep after his wife got mad because he started eating his children... Who would have thought?
Looks like OrgyMaster will soon be born...
I decided to ignore the divine drama and finish building the continental Obelisks in Europe, Africa, Asia, and Oceania. Humanity was progressing too fast, and I was afraid of lagging behind and then having to invent eminent domain.
There was no rush in America. Although humans had been there for a while now—the ones in the Isthmus excluded—they were still far from reaching the civilization standard.
Ikaris and Sersi started a relationship, and even aside from the fact that I knew it would happen, we all saw it coming. Sprite was not happy, so I had my fill of teasing her.
"Oh, come on! Sprite!" I called to the angry Eternal.
Sprite had decided to take some time off from her Eternal duties, and Ajak—as perceptive as always, as her role as Prime Eternal demanded—knew that some time away from Sersi and Ikaris' chumminess would do her good. So, Sprite tagged along with me.
"You're one annoying piece of..." she paused, searching for words, "...cosmic excrement!"
"Hahahahaha! Cosmic excrement?" I laughed, genuinely amused. "Hahahaha! Fine, fine, fine, I'll stop teasing."
She pouted and glared in response.
"I think you're looking at this wrong," I said.
"Explain," she demanded, still fuming.
"Why do you all assume monogamy is the standard?" I asked. "Can't you share Ikaris with Sersi? I mean, even humans practice polygamy. Why limit yourselves?"
"...I... I don't think he'd be attracted to this," she said dejectedly, motioning toward her childlike body.
I adjusted my vision to focus on her physical form rather than her soul, studying her in rumination. "I think you're pretty," I concluded.
Her cheeks turned slightly rosy at my statement. "Thank you... but I know he doesn't see me in that light," she admitted.
"Sorry, Sprite. I can't help you there. My opinion is objective, but subjectively, I don't feel sexual lust for anything other than my Noona," I confessed. "Though..." I let my words drag on.
"What?" she asked, her mood dimming further.
"Your youthful body could evoke a sense of corruptive pleasure in certain men," I explained. "So even if he isn't an option, you're not condemned to eternal solitude."
"I don't think I'd want to give my heart to a man like that," she muttered, sinking into depressive thoughts.
"If you want, once you've fulfilled your mission on this planet, I can change your body—turn you into a bombastic, erotic beauty straight out of wet dreams!" I proclaimed magnanimously.
"W-Wha-What?!" She was reduced to a stammering mess at the prospect.
"I mean, it would cost me nothing. I could do it now, but let's wait until my departure. I don't make a habit of offering cosmetic reconstruction to just anyone," I said casually.
"Are you messing with me?" she asked.
"No, I'm being truthful," I declared. "If things don't work out for you and you don't find a lolicon to steal your heart, then come find me at the end of your mission, and I'll turn you into a beauty of legends."
"..." She remained silent for a moment, her gaze locked onto mine, searching for any deception. Given my eyes, reading me was obviously easy. "Okay... Thank you... You're not so bad when you're not being cosmic excrement."
"Pleased to be of service," I said, rolling my eyes.
As time passed, the expansionist policies of Upper Egypt gave way to Narmer's conquest, and the Ennead saw this as an opportunity to make their presence known in Egypt.
'Are you happy about the success of your pantheon, Disciplined Kitty?' I asked as I observed Narmer's coronation, where he received the two crowns—one for Upper Egypt and the other for Lower Egypt.
(A/N: This is The Narmer Palette, supposedly depicting the scene from above. If you didn't know, that's alright. I didn't before I turned into an archaeologist to write this volume.)
'Aragorn?' Bastet looked around, trying to locate me. 'Where are you?'
'I'm on my Obelisk,' I said.
She turned to look at the balcony where I stood, and with a wave of my hand, I greeted her. She was blending into the crowd, and I believed only Narmer had a suspicion of their nature.
She was accompanied by others of her pantheon. Noticing her turn to the Obelisk, they followed her gaze, their faces scrunching upon seeing me.
'What's up with those sour lemons?' I asked.
'Please don't mind them, Aragorn. They are part of the weather deities of my pantheon,' Bastet explained.
'Oh, are they mad because of the deluge? Or because I didn't include them?' I asked.
'It is as you can imagine,' Bastet said, years of tiredness in her voice.
'I see,' I replied with disinterest. 'Are you guys going to work with Egypt?' I asked, knowing the answer.
'Yes, that's the plan,' Bastet nodded. 'Our diviners saw a great future for the lands irrigated by this serpentine river.'
'Good luck, then,' I said.
'How amiable of you,' she replied.
'Why do I feel like you don't mean what you say?' I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.
'You're mistaken,' she quipped.
'Sure, Disciplined Kitty,' I said.
'Bast or Bastet is shorter,' she grumbled about her nickname.
'But Disciplined Kitty is more descriptive,' I scoffed.
'...Whatever,' she gave up.
Time passed, and Egypt prospered. The first hieroglyphic inscriptions appeared. Their agriculture maintained its staggering pace, with wheat, barley, flax, and papyrus cultivated using Nile irrigation. Cattle, goats, sheep, and donkeys—the default livestock of the region—thrived.
Their trade networks expanded: Levant (Canaan) for cedarwood, oil, and resins; Nubia for gold, ivory, and incense; and Mesopotamia (Sumer) for cylinder seals, obsidian, and lapis lazuli.
Other parts of the Old Continent continued to be claimed by human settlements... Though, now that I think about it, technically, America should be considered the Old Continent of this Earth... Thoughts for later.
Around 3,000 BCE, Bastet invited me to the christening—wait, that word hasn't been invented yet... She invited me to the opening and naming ceremony of the first Wakandan castle in what would later be known as the Golden City.
(Clearly not as advanced and modern as this, but this is the city in question.)
'Your guys are advancing too fast,' I commented as we observed them while hidden in the Mirror Dimension.
'...' She turned to stare at me with a dead fish look.
'What?' I asked.
'I don't want to hear that from you and your intergalactic empire of almost 300,000 years old,' she said before huffing and turning back to enjoy the celebration.
'Fair enough,' I said. 'Why are you always in your human form now?'
'...' Another dead fish stare.
'What?' I asked.
'...I don't like you petting me like a common cat,' she said.
'You don't like it?' I opened my eyes wide. 'I seem to recall a certain divine cat purring and almost spasming under my professional, godly, cosmic, and abstract-level petting.'
'...Shut up!' she snapped. 'You don't know how pleasure can be torture? What's wrong with you and your family? How can they all see that as normal and acceptable conduct? I felt worse than after that time with Ptah. How is that possible?'
{A/N: In her myth, Ptah is her husband.}
'...I mean... Overreacting much? It was just a simple petting session. What's wrong with that?' I asked with a teasing grin.
'A simple petting session?... You're infuriating!' she whined.
She was almost foaming, so maybe I went a bit overboard that time. Kitty then went and told a bunch of jokes about my hands and 'Bast's Pussy.'
While Wakanda was leaving the rest of the world in the dust—bar the Isthmus—the Inhumans left on the Moon were growing in number without much care for their genetic pool or their limited space. Just a few more years, and their parents would be their siblings simultaneously.
(Attilan in the MCU.)
(Attilan in the comics.)
Well... incest is nothing new for humanity, or in nature for that matter, but that's not my problem. I already did enough for the future of the human genome when I prevented the deaths of thousands during the Toba Supereruption.
As the years passed, an event of celebration was nearing its date: the Convergence. And as the Convergence drew near, Alflyse's time for a decision was close.
"So? What will you do?" I asked the Pet Queen.
"... What I should do and what I want to do clash with each other. What I will do is a mystery even to myself, and what I can do is abysmally little," Alflyse replied.
"What do you want to do?" Mindee asked her.
"I want to go to my home realm, end that traitorous elf, take the Reality Stone from his grasp, and stop the Asgardians from massacring my people," she said, speaking of the Asgardians with vitriol.
"You do know that if it were not the Asgardians, it would have been the Imperium, right?" I asked.
"... What have my people done to you, Aragorn?" she asked, her glare loaded with anger.
"Nothing, Alflyse, but their plan to revert reality to what it once was..." I paused, searching for better words but failing. "That's bullshit that will never happen," I explained bluntly.
"What is wrong with wanting to restore things to how they were?" she asked. "Didn't you say that the humans from your universe were battling to restore the environment? Isn't this the same?"
"... What if I wanted to restore things to how they were before your time of yearning?" I countered. "I'm older than even your primordial darkness. What if I wanted to rewind reality further back than you aspire? Would that be within my rights?"
She glared harder but didn't reply.
"I have no problem with your desire for the yawning abyss, but why do you want to bring that upon others who don't? You could have taken the Reality Gem and used it to turn Svartálfheim into the void. Why would you ever think you have the right to decide the future of countless others?" I asked.
"You do it all the time!" she snapped. "It's how things were! It's how things were meant to stay forever! There's nothing wrong with wanting to put things back in order!
"And so what if we have to decide the future of countless others? They should have never existed!" She exhaled deeply. "I don't want to hear any of this from you! You almost literally have the future of this entire universe in the palm of your hand! You decide its path, and you can turn off the lights if you want. You can change it all; you can route it to a future where we could all get what we wanted, yet you don't.
"Don't talk about the lives of others like you care—you don't! The only reason you're even bringing it up is because it aligns with whatever abstract motive you have. You could help me bring everything to how it was supposed to be, and I bet you could even accomplish your goals while at it!" She vented all out.
"... How delusional," I commented.
"Delusional?!" she shouted.
"What else should I call you?" I asked. "You're nothing but delusional. Even more so if you think that Malekith's plan has even a silver chance of success."
"... What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Alflyse, what Grandfather means is that even in the case where he succeeds, nothing would change," Mindee explained calmly.
"What do you mean?" Alflyse asked, confused by our words.
"Let's say I go to Asgard and stop them from interfering in Malekith's skit," I constructed an illusion of the scenario. "Let's say I kill Bor, King of Asgard. Let's say I pave the way for that elven stain in creation, and he manages to turn the lights off." I made the illusion of Malekith using the Aether to turn reality into the primordial darkness.
"But what is going to stop the creators of reality from intervening?" Dear Old Arishem appeared in the illusion. "The Celestials will either kill Malekith and your people, then use the same stone to reset things, or they might simply create another reality and start anew." The illusion showed Arishem clapping Malekith like a mosquito.
"See?" I asked. "No Reality Gem will be enough to contend with the might of the Celestials. The plan was flawed from the beginning. There's zero chance Malekith can succeed. The only variable is how many lives are lost in reaching the inevitable and obvious conclusion." And with that... my words seemed to have broken something in her.
"..." I sighed heavily at observing that.
"..." Mindee did too. "I know it was needed, but it's hard to see her suffer like this."
"Why does she even care so much about the primordial darkness?" Mindee commented, watching Alflyse's blank stare. "She sounds conditioned or brainwashed."
"I don't know... but..." I dragged my words. "Even while knowing my old world wasn't perfect, there was a time I would have given all to bring it back."
Mindee mulled my words over in silence.
It took some time—days—and Mindee's tender care, for Alflyse to come out of her trance. When she did, she made the only logical request she could make in her position.
"Aragorn, please save my species from unavoidable extinction," she asked as the Queen of the Älfeneel and not Alflyse, Mindee's assistant.
"They will not perish this time, but they will be left in an inescapable pit and will only fully perish in the Convergence following the next," I clarified.
"They are similar in strength to Asgard," Mindee added, alluding to the upcoming hard battle.
"Can you do for them what you did for me?" Alflyse pleaded.
"... Okay," I said after a moment of thought, "but I can't willingly invite a group of extremists with a conflicting ideology and theology into the territories of my empire as is."
Too much tolerance is stupidity and a good way to bring down everything the previous generations built and sacrificed their lives for. It would be a disrespect greater than NTR.
"What do you propose?" Alflyse asked, catching the underlying message of my words.
"I will make them forget about the Ginnungagap forever." I saw her furrow her brows at my statement.
"I can reign them in. There's no need for that," she argued.
"Your track record says otherwise," I said, referring to Malekith and most of her people betraying her. "And I don't expect you to sell them an ideology not even you buy. You will be included in the lot, Alflyse. No Harudheeniksel in the Imperium will have a memory of the time before the Big Bang."
"..." Her eyes widened, and her heartbeat quickened.
"To them, they will be the most ancient race of the universe and the Duskari a distant relative race. In their memories, Malekith will be just another tyrant who ascended to the throne after betraying its ruler. You'll be the rightful queen who went abroad to escape his witch hunt and sought refuge under Mindee. And to you, things wouldn't be that different—just that you'll remember this conversation with me," I explained.
"... You decided the future of others weaker than you in no different way than Malekith does," she complained with displeasure.
"Don't compare me to that amateur, Alflyse," I warned her. "I leave things better than I found them. You just need to take a look at your people to know it's true."
After the Duskari departed from Svartálfheim, it couldn't be denied that the Älfeneel were left better off than when they first accepted the Duskari.
"Have the wisdom someone your age should have to accept what you can't change, and the strength a ruler should have to follow through with what must be done for the ultimate interests of your subjects," I advised.
"... I... AGH!" she shouted in anger and brought her hands to her face. "I hate this, I hate it, I despise this!" she screamed.
Tears pooled in her eyes and soon began streaming down her cheeks. I stood in silence, allowing her to vent her frustration. Mindee sat next to her and placed a comforting hand on her back.
"Just... Just..." she said as if forcing herself to do something. "Just fucking do it, Aragorn!" she yelled.
"It shall be done, Alflyse." I walked to her and petted her head softly. Contrary to all the times I mockingly did it, this time, she felt my comforting emotions.
"Stop it. I-I don't need it," she said, her voice cracking just like her composure.
"Don't worry, Alflyse. It shall be done after I recover your people," I said before leaving the room to themselves.
"That went better than expected," Emma commented after I exited. She had been listening in on the conversation since the start.
"Yes, I thought she was never going to change and would force us to be more forceful with her," I commented. "As they say, you can't teach an old dog a new trick. She just proved the saying wrong."
After so long living in the Isthmus, under Mindee's care, and receiving our education—yet remaining stubborn about it—we had almost given up on Alflyse ever accepting that the Primordial Darkness was never going to return. Today, she did.
"I'm proud of her," Emma said.
"It was an endeavor that took us thousands of years," I said.
"~Fufufufu," Emma chuckled. "It was endearing seeing you be so patient with her for Mindee's sake."
"I'm glad the challenges I face amuse you, Fluff," I said while grabbing a handful of her fluffy tails and stimulating her with my biokinesis. She purred in response.
"Bor Burison sent a request for our support," Emma said before grabbing my hand affectionately, interlocking fingers—how lewd—and softly digging in her nails to show her displeasure at my prank.
"Was it only us? Or did he contact the other pantheons?" I asked.
"There were letters sent to the other pantheons, but that was only a formality," Emma explained. "The Olympians are busy killing each other and changing their Skyfather, the Ennead is busy with Egypt, and they have no fighting force aside from themselves. Most intergalactic empires out there fear the Dark Elves just as much as they do the Asgardians, so most of their deities are out of the picture.
"The Sumerians, Mayans, and any other deities are in similar situations to the Ennead. Only we are considered stable enough to provide support," Emma said. "And it doesn't take a genius to know that they are taking this opportunity to measure us up," she scoffed.
"Well, let's give them what they want," I grinned. "You can mobilize some of the Empire's might into battle."
"Manned units?" Emma tilted her head.
"Unmanned units," I clarified. The Duskari could still not leave the historical shadows.
"You'll be there to collect our destroyed tech, right?" Emma asked for clarification.
"Yes. While I collect Alflyse's people, I'll keep the traces of the Imperium and our intellectual property safe," I affirmed.
"That's great! The Duskari will make a riot out of it," Emma grinned.
And so, the Convergence arrived...
The Isthmus...
With the tall obelisk-like skyscrapers in the background, the sounds of the city, the imposing permanent portal standing proudly in the middle of the central river of Urbes Sorores, and the soft hum of the thousands of cores of the Imperial Warbeasts, Aragorn nodded in approval.
The Imperial Warbeasts were the drone troops of the Imperium for planetary-bound warfare and combat, a remnant of the ancestral practice of waging warfare while assisted by organic warbeasts.
During the early days of the Space Exploration Era, as the Duskari began their race to colonize and terraform suitable planets, the need to deal with hostile locals arose.
The locals ranged from semi-sapient beings to wild predators, and these always had the terrain advantage since the Duskari were the foreign invaders.
Sending troops was the path initially taken, with millions of Duskari sporting the advanced exo-suits of the era, eager to prove their worth to the Imperium. But as the fertility rate lowered—due to increase in lifespan—and the lives lost failed to match the cost, a new branch of technology was developed for non-crucial tasks where lives didn't need to be risked.
Thus, drone technology for planetary reconnaissance was born. The first models were successful in data gathering and terrain imaging but failed in combat.
It was nearly impossible for the early models to contend against locals who had millions of years of evolution backing them—at least not while keeping costs manageable.
With countless planets yet to explore, each with innumerable and unique environments, a new approach was needed. One that considered cost, performance, support, and many other factors in planetary exploration—which, in turn, became the precursor of drone technology in warfare.
That was how the Imperial Warbeasts (IWB) were born.
Why bother coming up with solutions to problems the enemy had already solved? Why not follow the old, reliable path of imitating nature? Didn't humans do that with some of their aircraft?
Instead of designing a vessel to traverse the treacherous seas of Beta-89, why not mimic the underwater fauna that already thrived there? Instead of engineering a way to navigate the dense atmosphere of the gas planet Curporicornt-II, why not replicate the adaptations of its airborne creatures?
Following this logic, the IWB thrived.
As logic stands, the IWB are not the peak of the Imperium's military might—far from it—but they should suffice to assist the Asgardians.
"How exciting," Aragorn commented. Though his tone and eyes carried enthusiasm, his expression remained utterly emotionless.
He was wearing a slim-fit pair of black pants made from unstable molecular fabric, with two holsters at his sides for his lightsabers and nothing more.
"As delicious as you look, My Love," Death said, leering at him and licking her lips. "Why are you wearing that?"
"I'll try my hand at CQC this time, and I'll probably be changing forms while at it, so I didn't bother with clothing," Aragorn replied, striking bodybuilder poses he knew Death would appreciate. "I'll probably lose these pants and be left in my combat form."
"Can't you just use your barriers as usual?" Death asked, approaching him and slowly running her fingers along the contours of his abdominals and pectorals.
"Yep, but this UMF is a new version I wanted to test-drive," Aragorn said, stretching the fabric with his telekinesis. "By the way, Noona, what are you doing here? Weren't you training Jean with Phoenix?"
"Ah, she's taking a break from it," she said, pointing at the Halo orbiting the Moon. "She's sleeping in your room." Death shook her head in mock disapproval. "That girl is too dependent on you. She can't sleep unless it's in your scent."
"Are you sure it's my scent?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall she falls asleep on your side of the bed." He looked in Jean's direction, ignoring distance and obstacles, for confirmation.
"... Huh?" Death blinked, processing his words. "You're right..."
"I believe she's slept in your arms more times than in mine, given that you sleep more often than me," Aragorn added. "Granted, whenever I sleep, she is most often there with me, but usually cuddled between the two."
"... I never paid attention to it," Death replied, blushing slightly.
"Hahahaha!" Aragorn laughed at that. Death chuckled in response.
"Noona, are the kids ready?" Aragorn asked.
"Yes, everybody's astral form is ready, and a slew of ABMaxes are prepared to receive both the life code samples and souls," Death said.
"And the reincarnation cycle?" Aragorn asked.
"Jean already locked it to your spirit through your link," Death replied.
"Alright, I'll try to kill as many Dark Elves as possible to save them," Aragorn said.
"Alflyse wants you to focus on the women," Death added.
"Ah, the day where chivalry has died before it was born has arrived," Aragorn said in a grand and melancholic manner.
"I guess I should focus on slaughtering the few civilians left behind before the Asgardians reach them," Aragorn muttered.
"Sounds logical to me," Death nodded.
"Yep, war crimes shall bring salvation," Aragorn nodded.
When the Army of IWB was ready, Aragorn made a motion with his tail, and the permanent portal switched—almost like a TV changing channels—its destination to Asgard.
Asgard was not the splendorous golden city of the future. It was a beautiful city nonetheless, but it was not one coated in gold. This was because Odin had yet to embark on the colonialist and conquering practices of the British and Spanish crowns of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, so he had not yet ransacked the Nine Realms of their gold.
(Something like this, like the New Asgard of the comics.)
Aragorn marched through the portal with the army of IWB following him—he was lifting them with his telekinesis—and walked in the air—on invisible steps—over the sea below the rainbow bridge, the Bifrost Bridge.
The Asgardian troops, the Einherjar, lined up along the length of the Bifrost, with King Bor and Prince Odin at the head.
The sight of the massive arch-shaped portal opening within their territory and Aragorn marching out of it put a scowl on Bor's face.
When the last of the IWB passed, the portal closed. Aragorn quickly located Bor and jumped to his location.
"Hello, Bor Burison," Aragorn greeted, then turned to Odin and said, "and this is Odin Borson, I presume."
"Aragorn, Head of the Drachantheon Therion. It is welcome to count on your assistance during the upcoming fight," King Bor said. "And yes, this is my son and heir, Odin."
"Will he join us in battle?" Aragorn asked.
"No, his responsibility is to throne. He shall stay and protect our Asgard." Bor clarified.
"It's an honor to meet a comrade-in-arms of my father. I envy your position," Odin said.
"Well, I'll be in charge of their rearguard and civilians. There's nothing to envy about massacring non-combatants," Aragorn said.
"All combat for the future of Asgard is one worthy of envy," Odin replied.
Aragorn could feel the self-centered origin of Odin's words.
"... Is that so?" Aragorn tilted his head. "Then I shall slaughter the non-combatants by the thousands in the name of Asgard's future! For Asgard!" he exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"FOR ASGAR—..."
The Einherjar's instinctive response was to cheer at first, but they soon stopped themselves as they processed his words. They exchanged discreet, confused glances, obfuscated by their helmets, wondering if that was something they should cheer for.
Odin became stiff as a rock after hearing Aragorn's exultations.
"Eh?" Aragorn looked around. "It seems not everyone shares your sentiment, Prince Odin."
"Aragorn, please stop messing with my son," Bor said, understanding Aragorn's point and intention.
"Haha!" Aragorn laughed at seeing Odin struggle to keep a composed demeanor. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop now. Though your son is quite different from you, Bor."
"My son has an affinity and passion for combat," Bor said.
"I can see that," Aragorn nodded.
Bor acted more in line with Odin's way of thinking—future Odin, the one that reformed in the last days of his life—in fact, at this time, Asgard had a reputation as a peacekeeping faction, as evidenced by their intervention to stop Malekith.
After Odin had bid farewell to his father and the Einherjar, the Bifrost lit up, and they marched to Svartálfheim. Instead of portaling in groups, the troops passed through in a constant stream.
When the last of the Asgardians had gone through, the Bifrost powered down, and new coordinates were introduced.
"Will soulless artifacts suffice?" Odin asked Aragorn, gazing at the IWB with poorly concealed disdain. "I think you'd need a group of them to match the might of one Asgardian man."
"They are not needed," Aragorn said dismissively. "They are here because my cute mortals wanted to play with the Dark Elves."
"Besides," Aragorn continued before morphing his body into his combat mode—scales covering alabaster skin, feet turning digitigrade, blades protruding sharply along his spine, facial features sharpening, nose disappearing, nails turning into claws—"all of Asgard wouldn't make for even a fraction of me," he said while staring down at Odin.
"Watch your words," Odin growled.
"No, prince," Aragorn's eyes turned crimson for a second, and Odin felt existential dread. "Watch yours."
Odin didn't move. He couldn't move. None of the Asgardians present noticed anything—hard to do when they collapsed unconscious under the weight of Aragorn's bloodlust.
Aragorn brought the tip of his tail's blade to Odin's throat, his sweet smile twisting into something dreadful with his altered features, and said, "You're nothing. Know your place. I don't know what made you believe Asgard was above me, but that's not the case. Not even your father dares to address me as patronizingly as you do."
With a flick of his tail, the Bifrost control center powered up again.
"Go," he calmly ordered, and the IWB rushed forward.
"Self-important child," Aragorn muttered to the petrified Odin before stepping inside the wormhole of iridescent light.
Only when the Bifrost powered down did Odin's mind restart.
Svartálfheim...
With a massive, indiscreet pillar of rainbow light, the Einherjar descended onto the battlefield with the subtlety of an explosive volcanic eruption.
"Pests will not get in the way of our grand desire," Malekith declared, the Aether flowing ominously around him. "Go, my soldiers! Go and fight for the caring mother! Fight for our rightful cause! Fight for your kind! Fight for our prosperity and the righting of the mistake that reality is! GO!"
The Arks and Harrows clouded the already dark skies and began raining fire on the invading Asgardians.
"Fools," Malekith scoffed. "At least come with your fleet."
In his eyes, the Asgardians were literally coming to a starship fight with a knife. In truth, while the Asgardian bore armor and weaponry that put to shame most, he was not mistaken.
The Asgardians used their magitech to shield themselves from the raining fire, their spears pointing forward and shooting energy blasts. A few unlucky Harrows came down after several lucky shots, but it was clear that the Asgardians were at a disadvantage.
This changed when another pillar of rainbow light descended, this time closer to the civilian territory of the Svartálfar.
"Despicable pests!" Malekith growled.
The Svartálfar were already few in number, and their fertility was as limited as for any immortal species. Malekith knew that even if they won, if there were no females of his race, then all would be lost.
"My Kursed soldiers," Malekith said, his voice reaching all intended targets, "finish this!"
The selected elves fervently crushed Kursed stones and turned into Kursed Elves, their lives now a definite sacrifice to the darkness.
The second light pillar disappeared, and Malekith ordered a portion of his fleet to provide cover for the civilians. He couldn't stop now, not when the Convergence was almost at its peak, even if that meant sacrificing some of his civilians.
Across the Nine Realms, massive circular portals manifested, and the boundaries between worlds began to blur.
In England, the Eternals were enjoying time with the locals, who had recently built an interesting structure—Stonehenge. Phastos was curious about it and had suggested to Ajak that they drop by.
Amid their celebration, while Phastos had Druig help him analyze the gravitational anomalies, huge portals to the other realms opened in the sky.
"Druig!" Ajak shouted. "Get them to cover!"
Ajak decisively ordered after catching a glimpse of the battle ensuing on the other side of the nearest portal.
"A dimensional transposition?!" Phastos shouted, both elated by the discovery and surprised.
"It's not the time for this!" Kingo said, his finger guns pointing at the portal above, ready to blast whatever came through. Thena, materializing a spear and shield, Gilgamesh equally prepared.
"Is that Aragorn?!" Sersi shouted in query, the portal having shifted enough to reveal the silhouette of a figure with a crown of horns, a flame above the mentioned crown, and two sabers of light in the distance, something only Eternals with their enhanced sense could pick up.
Phastos wasted no time and made a drone construct. "Here, throw them in there!" he handed Ikaris the two drones.
Ikaris flew closer to the portal above and shot the two spherical drones, one to the battlefield and the other in Aragorn's direction.
Phastos made a holographic projection, revealing the bloodbath on the other side.
On one end, the Asgardians fought to the bitter end against the Kursed Elves, under heavy fire from the Harrows and Arks. Limbs flight left an right, a mist of blood prevalent, black hole granades sucking into oblivion Asgardians, and Bor using his spear to sear through their numbers like a butcher, chaos amid warfare.
On the other end, the IWBs swarmed the Arks and Harrows Malekith had sent Aragorn's way.
Aragorn was seen jumping across space, from Elven bunker to Elven fortification, locating the civilians and driving his lightsabers through the chests of the unresponsive elves—dazed by his telepathy—one after another.
A few of the more responsive ones managed to exit their firtification and ran in terror and despair from Aragorn in the open. A woman was seen running while pulling a much younger girl, shouting, imploring for the monster to stay away and, if impossible, to at least forgive the girl.
"No!" Sersi cried into Ikaris' chest when she saw Aragorn emotionlessly driving his lightsabers through the pair of mother-and-daughter elves.
Sersi wasn't the only one to recoil. Ajak tightened her fists, Ikaris' eyes gleamed dangerously for a moment, and Gilgamesh was seconds away from jumping through the portal.
"... He is doing something," Phastos' comment interrupted and halted their impetuous actions before they could commit to them.
'Something?' Makkari signed.
"Yes, every kill is followed by a peak of psionic and dimensional energy," Phastos explained after analyzing the readings from his drones.
"You guys can't see them?" Druig asked, confused by Sersi's tragic reaction and everyone's sudden hostility.
"See what, Druig?" Thena asked.
"His deities," Druig pointed as Aragorn drove his lightsaber through another family. "Their astral forms, or something similar, show up for a second after each kill and pull out an orb of light from the fallen bodies. Souls, I presume."
With Druig's hint, Phastos adjusted the sensors and recalibrated them. In the projections, the faint silhouettes of Therions they recognized began to appear after each kill.
"What in the name of Arishem..." Gilgamesh questioned.
"Maybe he is collecting them like he does over here," Sprite suggested.
Regardless of the truth, it was undeniable how harrowing the scene was.
Aragorn teleported from elf to elf with mechanical, unnatural precision. So much so that, from his perspective, he wouldn't appear to be moving at all—it would look as if his surroundings were changing and elves were stabbing themselves onto his extended lightsabers.
"Look at the fallen bodies," Ikaris pointed out to Sersi. She barely managed to bring her face out of his chest and saw that the fallen bodies were disappearing before touching the ground.
"That's where the spikes of dimensional energy are coming from," Phastos explained. "It matches with the Abeyance and Chakra Dimensions Aragorn shared readings of."
"Are they using them as mediums to transport the bodies?" Ajak inferred.
"Yes, I believe so," Phastos affirmed.
"So he is not committing senseless genocide?" Sersi asked.
"I don't know about senseless, Sersi," Thena said, "but he's definitely killing them."
"A body without a soul is a dead one, and one with a searing wound through the chest is also a lifeless one," Gilgamesh added.
"What is that?!" Phastos suddenly asked, dread in his tone, as red warning signs flashed across his projections.
On the projection, at the edge of the battlefield, Malekith stepped forward after receiving word of what Aragorn was doing. Unleashing the Aether, he directed its wrath toward the Asgardians.
"Hold it!" Bor commanded, golden shields of light forming at the front to resist the onslaught of the Kursed and the incoming wave of crimson darkness.
"I'm getting readings of unquantifiable amounts of all kinds of energy, from low gamma to even cosmic energy," Phastos explained.
'It's the Reality Gem, one of the singularities born after creation,' they all heard Aragorn's voice in their minds.
"Aragorn?" Ajak questioned. "What's going on?"
'A delusional lunatic wants to undo your boss' work and turn off reality,' he calmly explained. They could see his eyes staring at the drone monitoring him as he continued his mechanical slaughter of the civilian elves.
"What's happening to them?" Sersi asked.
'I'm approving their Imperial Visa,' Aragorn said.
"What?" Sersi asked, the joke flying over her head.
'Their queen is a friend of Mindee. She asked me to save her people. We're moving their souls to fresh recipients to make it easier to indoctrinate them,' Aragorn explained.
"Couldn't you just manipulate their minds?" Druig asked. He saw no need to take such a roundabout approach.
'Meh, I wanted to test the latest version of my reincarnation spell,' Aragorn said nonchalantly. 'Kukukukuku! Soon I will be able to reincarnate from the comfort of my truck!'
"... Your truck?" Druig asked.
"What's a truck?" Thena asked, and several other Eternals echoed the question.
'An artifact for souls' migration to other worlds,' Aragorn explained clearly. 'Very advanced stuff.'
"Ah, that makes sense!" Phastos exclaimed. "You're trying to improve your efficiency in collecting souls, right?"
'... That's definitely the case,' Aragorn agreed.
"Wait!" Ajak exclaimed. "This isn't the time for this! What's going on with that Reality Gem?"
'Don't worry,' Aragorn said dismissively. 'We've got it handled.'
Following his words, on the battlefield, the IWBs swarmed in and began slaughtering the elves. The airborne IWBs, shaped like birds of prey—both Terran and alien—soared toward the starships with bloodlust, providing the Asgardians much-needed respite from the aerial bombardment.
On the ground, IWBs shaped like all manner of terrestrial predators prowled with the promise of death. Even underground, IWBs shaped like worms swam through the infertile soil as if it were water.
It was a veritable swarm—one composed of beasts discovered across hundreds of worlds by the Duskari, the cream of the crop, with some even resembling legendary Deviants from the Imperium's past.
(Like the swarm in Matrix Revolutions. Except less uniform and with multiple units of different species.)
In the midst of the chaos, after finishing the reincarnation/migration process for the civilians, Aragorn ran nearly parallel to the ground, almost gliding, his two white lightsabers at his sides.
His figure flickered in and out of sight, his lightsabers cutting, melting, and searing through limbs, necks, midsections, and heads.
His tail left behind molecular cuts that took moments for his victims to even realize.
"..." "..." "..." "..." The Eternals were dubstrucked, and their enhanced senses could barely keep up with his speed, for the combatants; for the support types like Ajak, Sersi, Sprite, Phastos, and Druig, they could at best catch the results of his strikes. The only one keeping up with his speed was Makkari.
'Why are you amazed?' Aragorn spoke in Makkari's mind. 'You could do what I'm doing and possibly faster.'
'I don't think I could be as... effective as you,' Makkari replied. 'Your every move means a death.'
'Just practice,' Aragorn said.
'I won't find opportunities to practice such dreadful thing,' Makkari said, her words almost a prayer.
'Maybe... Maybe not,' Aragorn said.
Malekith had no choice but to order his troops to focus on the swarm and the Asgardians, leaving himself free to give his undivided attention to Aragorn.
With a command of his hand, the Aether flooded the battlefield in Aragorn's direction.
Yet... Aragorn moved too fast—faster than the Aether could follow. Faster than its propagation rate.
"Malekith, as delusional as always," a voice came from his left.
Malekith turned. Aragorn stood there—lazily facing him—while Malekith's hands were still postured forward, as if trying to catch him—yet now, Aragorn was already at his side—his afterimage evidently.
"Do I know you, monster?" Malekith asked. He knew that at this distance, his life was in the hands of the speedster before him. Deploying an Aether shield would be too slow.
Aragorn replied by morphing into his 'Pet form.'
Normally, Malekith would not remember a beast he met thousands of cycles ago, but this beast he would always remember, for it was the same beast that had given his former queen a hard time. It was a beast that had proven so indestructible to Alflyse's every attempt at disposal that it had drawn his attention.
Aragorn saw realization dawn on Malekith's face and switched back to his combat humanoid form.
"Mindee sends her regards," Aragorn said, bringing a metallic ring from his storage and dropping it in front of him, "as well as Alflyse's." From the ring, a live projection of Mindee and Alflyse appeared. "I'll leave you to it. I'm busy," he added before disappearing, leaving the projection before an agape Malekith.
"Malekith, if only someone had advised you about the inevitable and unfailing logical repercussions of your actions," the projection remarked, looking around the battlefield, now filled to the brim with corpses. "Maybe my people would not be facing extinction after trying to end the Universe."
"Alflyse... How are you alive?" he asked.
The mystery of the disappearance of the Noctelvi and Mindee was now making sense in his mind.
"Mindee and her grandfather were much more than they let on," Alflyse said, almost dismissively. "I see you've forged something with that," her gaze settled on the crimson mist of the Aether, "it looks like a formidable weapon," she complimented. "If only it mattered," she added with regret.
"What are you talking about?" Malekith asked, the absurdity of the situation keeping him from exploding in rage.
"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Alflyse pointed to one of the last Arks, falling to a swarm of flying creatures of all phyla.
Her words became the spark that ignited his rage.
"Watch me!" he commanded, letting the Aether overflow, reality warping at his command. "Rise! Rise for the caring mother! Rise for your brethren! Rise for the cause! Return and fight for me!"
And with his shouts and commands, the unmoving bodies of both Elves and Asgardians gained a faux life. Monsters cursed by the Aether to walk even in their soulless state, monsters cursed to fight even in their will-less state, monsters cursed to do Malekith's bidding even in their mindless, heartless, and despairing state.
"RWaghhHHHahHHHH!" Thousands of cursed monsters cried out in a cacophony of anguish, ghostly smog of the Aether filling their voids. Without a semblance of intention, they were simply puppets for Malekith to command.
This horde of fleshed, ghostly zombies avalanched the Asgardians and terrestrial IWBs.
"Is the desecration of my people what you were supposed to show me, Malekith?" Alflyse asked, her voice and face impassive, belying her wrath.
"It's the culmination of my ambition!" Malekith declared.
"He eroded the remaining souls," a familiar voice interrupted Malekith's power-drunk stupor.
"You!" Malekith almost jumped like a startled cat at Aragorn's sudden appearance.
"Even the living ones?" Alflyse asked.
"Only the living Asgardians, Malekith, and I remain as uncorrupted souls on the ground. The ones in the spaceships are currently out of his reach," Aragorn calmly explained, his telekinesis forming a chair out of the infertile ground. "That's a neat trick. You should have said something like [Arise], and I would have given you full marks," he nonchalantly commented to Malekith.
"You think you could escape the reach of my Aether if I flood the planet?" Malekith threatened.
Aragorn pointed his tail at the swirling mist, and it flowed toward him, engulfing him—and then, nothing happened.
"Don't you remember how indestructible I am?" Aragorn asked, returning control of the hijacked Aether to Malekith.
"... What do you want?" Malekith asked, cold sweat forming, yet keeping his composure as if everything were still under his control.
"Nothing," Aragorn curtly said, his tail pointing at the remnants of the destroyed IWBs. The shattered beasts vanished, returning to the Imperium for analysis.
"Nothing?" Malekith repeated, more in disbelief than confusion.
"Nothing. I already collected what I came for," Aragorn said, pointing behind him to the rearguard, where the civilians had taken refuge before he reicarnated them. "Now I'm just waiting for Bor Burison to finish dealing with you or for you to realize you're in checkmate, adopt kamikaze tactics, make a religious fanatic proud, and all that."
True to his words, the Asgardians—despite all odds—were making their way to Malekith under Bor's command. The last Ark had decided to retreat, along with a few of the harrows.
"..." Madness—even more madness than already inhabited his mind—crept into his eyes, and to this madness... the Aether reacted.
This madness, filled with regret, dripping with rage, fueled by delusions, drove the Aether and Malekith beyond.
Beyond what he could safely handle.
Beyond his reach.
Beyond its previously shown might.
All with the singular purpose of fulfilling a wish, a desire so intense—born from the despair of recognizing the end of his life's delusion—a desire for another chance, an escape to try again later, when an irrational existence such as Aragorn was not present, when the Nine Realms aligned again.
And faster than the Asgardians could react, an explosion of dark energy, primordial darkness, crimson energy of reality, and magic engulfed all.
"Classic religious fanatic move when arguments and logic don't work," Aragorn muttered.
He turned to the dying Asgardians—the swirling crimson darkness not an obstacle to his eyes—and waited... One fell, then another, two more after that, a squad was consumed by the ethereal crimson mist of the Reality Gem, and then another.
Only when the PuppeteerSelf outside the Sacred Timeline said that the casualties matched the original amount did Aragorn wave his tail and cover the remaining Asgardians and their king in barriers.
When the mist receded, Malekith was no more, and neither were the remaining Ark and Harrows. No, they were not dead. Malekith gave his all, and the Aether responded to his wish. To protect its creator, it evacuated him along with his people and put them in stasis to await a comeback. And because the overexertion was killing him, it willingly separated from him.
The swirling mist that was the Aether was left in the epicenter of the battlefield, right next to Aragorn.
Aragorn's attention was not on the Aether, though, but on the Asgardians. Bor was the first to gather himself, shortly followed by his loyal soldiers. He observed the barrier surrounding him and his men and lifted his gaze to Aragorn in understanding.
"Aragorn, thank you," he said with both the regality expected of his role and the gratefulness of his position.
"Don't mind it," Aragorn waved his tail, and the barriers disappeared just as fast as they had appeared.
"You're one terrifying beast in combat," Odin praised, his gaze on the fallen body parts strewn across the battlefield, clear marks of molecular cuts or searing for evidence of Aragorn's attacks.
"I try my best," Aragorn replied.
Bor made his way to Aragorn's side and observed the Aether with caution.
"What will you do with it?" Bor asked.
"I will do nothing," Aragorn said dismissively. "I have no interest in it, Bor. Do as you please."
Bor's eyes widened at his statement. The implications surprised him just as much as they frightened him.
"You don't see value in such a formidable weapon?" Bor asked, against his better judgment.
Aragorn extended his tail in the opposite direction, and from it, a mist swirled with the same signature as the Aether's. "I don't need it," he said while pulling the mist back.
With every one of his actions, Bor was finding it impossible to comprehend the limits and motivations of Aragorn.
"But what about you, Bor?" Aragorn said, like a tempting devil. "Will you use it for the betterment of Asgard? To bring glory? To increase Asgard's power? To submit its enemies?"
"... You don't need to say more, Aragorn," Bor shook his head, barely tempted by the prospect posed, he was a man of principle. "This is not a power meant for the hands of those with weaker wills. Malekith is proof of that."
He observed the swirling mist with both apprehension and respect.
"What happened to him?" he asked, the presence of the Aether having momentarily displaced Malekith from his thoughts.
"The last burst of energy was almost like a spell granting his wish," Aragorn said. "And that wish was to survive to try another day."
"So he's not here?" Bor asked.
"Exactly, he is not here. I don't know where," Aragorn affirmed and lied—he was, after all, seeing his body in stasis on the other side of the realm.
"I shall entomb this weapon in the realm that gave birth to it," Bor declared. "For only a lifeless prison like this could serve as the appropriate container for such a weapon of death." His eyes landed heavily on the few remaining men he had left; the battle had cost him greatly. He then moved his gaze to the remaining IWBs.
"I admire your wisdom in leaving behind your people and facing the battle with disposable beasts of metal," Bor commented.
"Not much wisdom behind the decision," Aragorn confessed. "Due to reasons better left unsaid, the Duskari—the people of the Imperium—can't leave the imperial territories. The Warbeasts were their solution to join me in battle. I was planning on coming alone."
"That doesn't change the facts," Bor pointed with his spear at what little remained of his men.
"You're right, it doesn't," Aragorn agreed.
Aragorn promptly left after that—or at least it seemed that way to Bor. In truth, he remained out of sight to monitor the handling of the Aether.
Not long after, Odin descended upon the battlefield, already informed of the battle's conclusion.
"Father..." Odin muttered, looking around the battlefield, finding only unrecognizable corpses—humanoid only in shape.
"This is war, Son. No one wins in war. There are only the losers and the ones that lost less," Bor said. "Malekith lost more than we did today."
"... And him? Where's Aragorn?" Odin asked, his fist clenching out of sight.
"Gone. He cares not for the spoils of war..." Bor gazed again at the desolate battlefield, "or lack thereof."
"I see..." Odin relaxed, knowing Aragorn had departed.
Bor then taught Odin about the Aether. As his heir, he needed to prepare him for the eventuality of Malekith's return. Eventually, after returning the Aether to its birthing forge and repurposing it into both its prison and container, the Asgardians departed.
"I might as well get this done now," Aragorn said, reappearing in front of the Aether monolith.
Aragorn studied the Aether for the following month until he was sure he could construct a locating spell to find the Reality Stone of his reality. Once done, he returned to Earth.
On the Imperium's side, Dark Elven babies began to pour out of the ABMaxes by the dozens, and Mindee's eyebrow twitched crazily at the sight.
(Like the Kryptonian Genesis Chamber.)
"Alflyse..." she called to her friend.
"Mindee?" Alflyse replied. They were observing behind a glass panel as the Artificial Birthing Matrices constructed the fetuses and imbued them with their corresponding souls.
Alflyse, despite knowing her mind had been tampered with out of her own volition, couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment at witnessing her people start anew.
"How are we supposed to raise hundreds of babies on our own?" Mindee asked with a faltering smile.
"... Oh." Alflyse turned to Mindee, her previous joy faltering into dread.
"..." Mindee didn't add more.
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{A/N:
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}