A/N: After a very bad writer's block I was suddenly hit with an epiphany. Why stick to the boring old Marvel x DC world? You've read plenty of those. Frankly I have run out of Ideas for this world.
So... I am expanding my horizons and turning this into an OMNIVERSAL story.
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[ 1 year 8 months later]
TOURNAMENT COUNTDOWN
6 years, 1 month, 11 days, and 6 hours remaining.
[Recap: After Hela and Aurama decimated Thanos and Darkseid's armies, Darius erased the 2 titans. After restoring earth to its previous state prior to the invasion BUT, not resurrecting anyone who might have died. Darius decided to just relax with his family]
The skies above the conjoined Earth-616(MVl) and Earth-Prime(DC) had been unusually quiet these past few months, ever since the twin cosmic disturbances of Thanos and Darkseid had been, well… erased. Not defeated nor imprisoned. Just gently, efficiently, and permanently erased—like chalk wiped from a blackboard.
And there was only one being in this universe who could do such a thing while wearing his white robes, sipping mango juice from a gold-rimmed glass, and simultaneously braiding his daughter's hair mid-air: Darius.
The weeks that followed had been calm and peaceful. Which, to most, was a blessing. But to Darius? It was starting to itch.
And not the kind of itch that could be scratched by more romps through Mount Olympus or raids on Eternus' wine cellar. No, this was the deeper kind—the itch that gnawed at the soul of a primordial being who had walked across galaxies barefoot just because he felt like it. The thrill was fading.
The Marvel x DC mash-up had been entertaining at first—more like a vacation resort with weird locals and loud neighbors—but after obliterating the twin tyrants of this universe and tossing them into cosmic oblivion without so much as a post-credit scene, it was losing its flavour.
He needed something new. A fresh playground. A realm untapped and untainted.
And so, he sat cross-legged on a golden swing suspended by starlight, high above Wakanda, staring at nothing in particular as Ororo and Diana napped beside each other under a silken parasol. Hela, reclining on a spectral chaise, was doing her nails—black and green and shimmering with low-level necrotic energy.
Verity, his daughter, was perched on his head, trying to count clouds despite their lack of cooperation. Aurama, the niece he'd grown unexpectedly fond of, was floating upside down trying to turn birds into butterflies. Successfully.
They were all perfect. This life was perfect. Which, again… bored him to tears. He sighed, long and dramatic, enough to make the clouds part with curiosity and winds to blow with added velocity.
And that was it. The decision formed and clicked into place like a puzzle piece falling into an ancient pattern.
He stood up—or rather floated upward, gently displacing everyone as he did, including Verity, who squeaked with delight and did a flip. "That's it," he said aloud, to no one in particular. "We're leaving."
Ororo blinked awake first, propping herself up on one elbow with a lazy smile. "Leaving?" she asked, hair cascading like lightning silk over one shoulder. "To where?"
Darius shrugged. "Anywhere but here. It's getting stale."
Diana stirred next, yawning as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Bored already, darling?"
"Yes," he replied with a sheepish expression that was almost adorable.
The rest gathered quickly. Hela, always intrigued when things shifted unpredictably, set down her nail file and crossed her legs with interest. The two little girls stopped playing with floating tree frogs and buzzed over like mischievous bees.
Aurama looked up at him with curious eyes. "Are we going somewhere new, Uncle Darius?"
"Somewhere no one's ever heard of," he said with a smile. "Somewhere strange, and loud, and beautiful, and very possibly dangerous." Verity clapped with joy. "Like Papa's stories!"
He smiled warmly, "Exactly." But he wasn't dragging them off without preparation. Not when Ororo and Diana still had people they cared for in this now-boring reality.
"I'm giving you both three days," he said, turning to the warrior women beside him. "Say your farewells. Visit whoever matters. Gather anything important. Keepsakes, relics, hair products, I don't care. But when we go, we go clean. We'll come back for the tournament when it's time—but not a moment before."
They nodded. Neither protested. They knew him too well by now. When Darius made a decision, the stars themselves adjusted their orbits to accommodate it.
[Day one]
Diana returned to Themyscira, the skies opening like a curtain as she descended in a shimmer of golden wind. The Amazons greeted her with joy, and though she tried to keep it brief, emotions flared like phoenix fire. Hippolyta embraced her fiercely, her warrior mask slipping for a brief moment.
"You're leaving this world?" her mother asked, voice a blend of pride and sorrow.
"I am. But I'll return when the time is right," Diana promised, pressing their brows together gently. "There's still a tournament to win."
She retrieved her old ceremonial shield, the one she hadn't touched in decades, and whispered quiet blessings to her sisters. She spent the night laughing with them around bonfires, remembering battles and telling tales of her time with Darius—most of them too absurd to be believed, all of them true.
[Day two]
Ororo visited the X-Mansion. The school was quiet that morning, as if it knew something was different. She walked the halls slowly, memories bubbling up at every corner. Students greeted her, teachers nodded respectfully, and Logan gave her a solemn fist-bump with a smirk.
"So, tall, glowing, and all-powerful is dragging you off again?" he asked.
"Willingly," she said with a laugh, brushing a hand through his wild hair. "He's not so bad once you get past the childishness."
"Mm. Not jealous... Much."
She gathered some old uniforms, a few personal journals, and a photo of the original team. Then she stood on the rooftop and let the winds carry her up into the sky one last time—for now.
[Day three]
Darius didn't do goodbyes. But he did do snacks. So he threw a massive picnic in the sky... Literally.
A floating island hovered above New York, Wakanda, Themyscira, and Metropolis all at once. It was a soft, sunny afternoon that never seemed to end, and the guests were a mash of heroes, gods, villains, and cosmic entities who had all once tried (and failed) to measure up to him.
Verity danced around with a cupcake in each hand. Aurama was chasing a pet chimera she'd accidentally conjured. Hela was, for once, smiling—actually smiling—as she toyed with a wine glass made of obsidian.
And Ororo and Diana stood beside Darius, arms linked with his, watching their shared universe float beneath them like a mural. Neither said much. They didn't need to. They could feel it in the way his aura had begun to stir again, gently cracking the veil between realities like glass under pressure.
The girls returned at sunset, bearing mementos and calm faces.
"I'm ready," Diana said simply.
"Me too," Ororo added, adjusting her golden shawl. Darius smiled and looked at his daughter and niece. "You two sure you're up for this?"
Verity nodded with serious eyes. "I'm brave like Mama and Auntie." Aurama stuck her tongue out. "And I'm smarter than all of you."
"Perfect," Darius said, snapping his fingers.
A ripple moved across the fabric of space. The air rippled like the surface of a pond touched by moonlight. Colors twisted, sounds melted, reality blinked.
And then they were gone.
***
---[Outer space]---
---[Location: World of Ninjas, Justus and dark backstories.]---
---[Time: Beginning of the Beginning]---
Before Ororo, Diana, Hela, Verity, or Aurama even felt the ripple of departure, Darius had already gone ahead. His presence vanished from the in-between, slipping through the fabric of all known and unknown realities like a mischievous thought.
He didn't need a portal or spell, nor did he ride on any divine vehicle—he simply was, and wherever he chose to go next would become.
So he left first. Slipped away through the folds between realities like slipping through beads on a curtain, robes rippling behind him, hair aglow with the raw color of the void. And then, with a grin and a twinkle in his eye, he crashed into the next universe.
Literally.
The entry wasn't graceful. He descended at a ridiculous speed, smashing through a sleeping nebula with a laugh. The clouds of gas parted like cotton candy under the force of his divine impact. Sparks of color—violet, cyan, electric crimson—danced across the vacuum as newborn stars were startled awake from his presence alone.
He tumbled through a solar nursery, bouncing off young suns like a marble skipping across water. Each impact sent tremors through the galactic canvas, rupturing time and matter itself.
And then—somewhere between a black hole and a pulsar that hadn't quite realized it existed yet—he exploded.
The force of Darius' impact triggered a Big Bang of its own.
A true one. Not like the scientific kind that takes place over eons. This one was instantaneous, chaotic, and yet deliberate. A symphony of raw energy conducted by a mischievous omniversal being who hadn't even broken a sweat.
Wherever he had landed—whatever this part of the meta-space used to be—was no more. It had been rewritten in the moment of his descent. The detonation bloomed like a flower, petals of light and cosmic intent unfolding outward in rings that reshaped everything they touched.
A universe began to form. At first, it was silent.
Stars were born. Planets spun themselves into being. Gravity took its first breath, and the laws of reality hesitated, then solidified into a script that made just enough sense to work. Darius floated in the center, robes billowing in a non-existent breeze, watching galaxies twirl like dancers around him.
One planet caught his attention.
Blue and green. Young and raw. Not yet touched by the madness of gods or the ambitions of mortals. "Hmm…" he mused, floating down toward the forming world like a curious uncle at a baby's crib. "You've got potential."
He hovered above the swirling oceans, the continents still shaping themselves, and let a sliver of his power drip downward—just a flick, a whisper of energy carried in a gleam of white-gold light. The energy sank into the soil, vanishing deep into the earth like a seed.
Where it landed, it didn't simply rest. It stirred. Time passed differently for Darius. What others would call centuries, he called a long nap.
And when he looked back? That seed had blossomed into something strange.
A massive tree had grown, ancient and divine in nature, towering over the young world's landscape like a monument to the unknown. Its roots were embedded deep within the planet's core, siphoning not just water and minerals—but chakra, the spiritual and physical energy of all things.
The tree hadn't just taken from the world; it had begun to mold it, accelerate it. Creatures were evolving faster. People began to speak. Villages turned to nations. And floating above the tallest branch, encased in a glistening fruit the size of a mountain, was the result of Darius' playful tampering—
A Chakra Fruit.
He tilted his head, watching it pulse with promise. "Oops," he said aloud, half-smirking. "That might've been too much juice."
He watched for a while. Time flowed in bursts. Civilizations rose and fell. People began to build shrines around the tree, calling it divine. Some feared it. Others worshipped it. None understood it.
Not until they came. Two figures, far unlike the simple mortals of this growing world.
They descended from the sky—one regal and pale, with moonlight skin and strange horns, eyes like pools of endless thought; the other, a shadow beside her, equally powerful but far more secretive.
Kaguya and Isshiki.
Darius floated silently in the thermosphere, arms folded, golden ornaments jingling softly as he watched the alien pair land. They came with hunger masked as reverence. He could taste it—how Kaguya admired the Chakra Fruit, how Isshiki eyed it with calculation.
"Ohh, this'll be interesting," Darius whispered, conjuring a couch made of nebulae and reclining across it. "Let's see who bites first."
Sure enough, Kaguya did.
The moment she tasted the fruit, the world changed. She became something else—more than mortal, more than alien—something godlike. Power radiated from her, altering the world's spiritual field.
Humans began to change. Chakra spread like wildfire, inherited unknowingly through her children. Isshiki watched with suspicion and jealousy.
Darius chuckled. "Jealousy's a boring shade, Isshi-boy." And then came betrayal. An ambush. Isshiki's fall.
"Oh, savage."
But it was the birth of the twins that caught his real attention.
Hagoromo and Hamura.
The sons of Kaguya. Born of divine blood and mortal form, they stood as a new axis in this universe. Hagoromo—the sage, the one who sought balance. Hamura—the guardian, distant yet faithful. Together, they challenged their own mother when her hunger grew too deep, too dark.
Darius watched as Hagoromo split the Ten-Tails, created the tailed beasts, and spread chakra like seeds of peace. He gave humans a chance to connect. To grow. And then, as always… division.
Two sons. Indra and Asura.
Darius let out a long, theatrical sigh and conjured a bowl of popcorn. He already saw where this was going. Power versus will. Talent versus effort. Inheritance versus choice.
And so the feud began—one that would ripple endlessly through generations. The Uchiha and the Senju. Two clans born from ideals turned bitter. The first true shinobi clans. The beginning of war, politics, love, betrayal, sacrifice.
Darius didn't intervene. He never planned to.
He just watched, draped across a floating cushion made of gravity waves, sipping on fermented stardust. He'd seen empires rise and fall before. But something about this one—this world, this people—kept him from walking away.
Maybe it was the way chakra connected everything, not just physically, but spiritually. A lattice of invisible threads binding heart to heart, generation to generation. Maybe it was the chaos—the kind that could only come from deep emotion, not cold strategy.
Or maybe, just maybe, he saw a story worth watching unfold. He leaned back, grinning faintly. "I like this one."
Not because it was safe. Not because it was perfect. But because it wasn't. There was drama here. Struggle. Spirit. And to someone like Darius, who had seen and remade universes on a whim, that was more valuable than all the cosmic power in creation.
He wasn't done watching—not yet. Not until the story truly bloomed. Not until the ripples of Hagoromo's legacy reached their full crescendo. But that would come later.
For now, he stretched his arms, cracked his neck, and waited for the others—Ororo, Diana, Hela, Verity, and Aurama—to catch up.
Because this universe? This one was going to be fun.
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A/N: Played a tiny bit with the origins of the Chakra fruit. As it contains a sliver of Darius' power, Kaguya was a literal GOD when she ate it, so were Hagoromo and Hashura when they were born. So this means that everyone singe person who contains Chakra is stronger than they were in the original
Hashirama and Madara were Gods among men and not just in title.