The first rays of the morning sun broke over the horizon, painting the shattered landscape in hues of soft gold and pink. Jack Hou stood, or rather, was held up, his arm slung over Hermes's shoulder for support. He looked at the dawn, a slow, tired grin spreading across his blood-streaked face.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice a raspy whisper. "It's like the universe just woke up from a week-long bender and is trying to remember what it did last night, but it's too pretty to be mad about it."
A booming laugh echoed beside him. "Akhakhakha! You're a funny fledgling god!" Susanoo roared, clapping him on the back with a force that nearly sent both Jack and Hermes sprawling. "I will wait for our battle when you are a full god! Our fight will be legendary!"
"Alright, alright, Stormy, relax," Jack wheezed, clutching his ribs. "Now, can you guys bring me to a soft bed, please? I need to rest. My divine ass is killing me."
Amaterasu stepped forward, her usual regal composure now softened with a quiet respect. She bowed her head to Jack. "On behalf of my parents," she said, her voice clear and sincere, "I am sorry. They let Amatsu go from their end. If not for their failure—"
Flick.
Jack, with a speed that defied his injuries, snapped a finger against her forehead. "Stop saying sappy shit," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You guys are better than the ones who didn't show up. That's all that matters."
Yao, who had been watching silently, raised a hand. A golden portal tore open beside them, the serene, cloud-woven pagodas of Takamagahara visible within. "Go back," he said to the two Shinto gods. "We have more things to discuss with your mother and father."
Amaterasu and Susanoo both gave Jack a final, sharp nod, a sign of acknowledgment between equals. As they walked toward the portal, Susanoo stopped. He picked up the Kusanagi no Tsurugi, which lay discarded on the ground, and walked over to Alexander Aaron, who was being tended to by a sorcerer.
"It's a good sword," Susanoo said, his wild eyes studying her. "A pity it was awakened by you, who has never wielded one."
Alexander, still pale and half-dead from the ordeal, simply snorted, not saying a word.
With a deliberate, almost casual motion, Susanoo tossed the god-slaying sword. It spun through the air, its blade a whisper of death, and landed with a thud in the dirt, mere inches from her head.
Alexander didn't even flinch.
A slow, appreciative grin spread across Susanoo's face. "Maybe," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I can be proven wrong in the future."
He then stepped into the portal, followed by Amaterasu. Before the portal closed, Yao looked at Jack. "Go rest. You've deserved it. I have a god check-up I need to do."
As the portal snapped shut, Jack shouted after it, "Kick their butts for me, Big Brother!"
He then sagged against Hermes, the adrenaline finally beginning to fade. "Your father is a jackass," he said conversationally.
Hermes just sighed. "Tell me about it."
"You're not mad?"
"What's the point?" Hermes shrugged. "He's been like that for a few millennia. You get used to it."
Jack then turned his gaze to the few remaining clones who were helping the last of the sorcerers. "Alright, boys," he called out. "Go back. Learn from what happened here. Try to grasp the light." He paused, his voice softening. "If you want to disappear, then just disappear. You're free."
Some of the clones nodded, a new, quiet understanding in their eyes, and began to walk away, choosing to live their own lives. Others simply smiled, their forms dissolving into shimmering strands of hair that were carried away by the wind.
Jack let out a long breath. "Alright," he said to Hermes. "Bring me and Jean to the X-Mansion. Their medbay beds look really soft."
Jean, who had been standing silently, still feeling like she had missed several crucial chapters of a very strange book, simply nodded.
In a blur of golden light and the scent of wildflowers, Hermes vanished, taking Jack and Jean with him, leaving the ruined temple in a profound, echoing silence.
…
Several months had passed. The world, for the most part, had settled into a new, strange kind of normal. And in the serene, timeless courtyards of Kamar-Taj, it was almost Christmas again.
Jack Hou, his expression a mask of pure, disgruntled fury, stared down at the colorful battlefield of a Pokémon card game. Across the low table, Yao, the Sorcerer Supreme, sat with a placid, almost beatific smile, his ancient eyes twinkling with amusement. Jack was losing. Badly.
SLAM!
Jack's hand crashed down on the table, rattling the delicate porcelain tea set. "You're cheating!" he roared, his voice echoing through the usually silent halls. "There is no way you can use Pikachu that way! That's an illegal move! Did your father work at Nintendo?!"
Yao simply chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to calm the very air around them. He gestured to the cup of tea he had poured for Jack. With a reluctant groan, Jack picked it up and took a long, bitter sip.
"Continue your story, Jack," Yao said, his voice a gentle prompt.
Jack blinked, the fog of his card-game-induced rage clearing for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Where were we last time?"
"You had just successfully glued the Red Scorpion leader's butt to the White Tiger leader's butt," Yao reminded him calmly.
"Ahhh, yes, that one," Jack said, a nostalgic, wicked grin spreading across his face. "So, what happened after that was…"
…
Meanwhile, on the blooming, vibrant shores of Krakoa, a very different kind of training was underway. Cheng Wudao, his massive frame now a symphony of controlled power, spun a gleaming Shaolin spade, its crescent blade a blur of silver as he parried a furious assault of whipping vines and hardened, rock-like projectiles.
"You're too much, Senior Brother!" Wudao grunted, his feet sinking slightly into the earth from the force of a blow. "You said you would hold back!"
Krakoa's voice, a chorus of shifting leaves and rustling wind, echoed from every corner of the island. "Xixixixixi! You should be grateful you are sparring with me, Junior Brother! Like Master always says, your enemies will use all they have to attack you!"
"Yeah, but does it seem fair that I have to do this while wearing one-ton weights on my feet?!" Wudao shot back, sweat beading on his bald head.
Krakoa just laughed, a sound like a thousand flowers blooming at once. "Xixixixixi!" It was thoroughly enjoying every moment of beating on its junior brother.
From the side, perched on a high branch of the God Tree, the clone Jack had left in charge of their training watched with a satisfied expression. Good seedlings, he thought to himself. They need more work, but they're good.
He then looked up at the clear, blue sky, his usual manic grin fading into something more contemplative, more serious.
"What kind of change will it be, though?" he muttered to the empty air. "The war of 2012… Hopefully, my existence didn't just increase the difficulty of Loki's invasion."
…
The lab was a cathedral of blue light and silent, humming machinery. Holographic atomic lattices spun in the air, complex models of a theoretical alloy that refused to exist. Tony Stark, running on coffee and pure, unadulterated frustration, swiped a hand through a projection, scattering it into a cascade of red error messages.
"Simulation 9,147 failed, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S.'s calm, disembodied voice announced. "The molecular cohesion of the Badassium-infused carbon nanotube matrix collapsed under simulated kinetic stress equivalent to a localized gamma event."
"Yeah, I see that, J," Tony muttered, rubbing his eyes. He had done it. He had cracked his father's research, stabilized a new element, and created a power source that made the old palladium arc reactor look like a AA battery. He'd even dubbed it "Badassium" in a fit of pure, unassailable genius. His confidence had been at an all-time high. He thought he could build anything.
But Jack Hou had dented his Mark 8 armor with a casual palm strike. A palm strike.
The problem wasn't power anymore. It was the material. He needed a new source, a new alloy, something that didn't just absorb kinetic energy like Vibranium, but actively repelled it, inverted it. He was trying to build a material that could punch back. But every simulation, every attempt to weave the volatile energy of Badassium into a stable alloy, ended in catastrophic failure. The research had become an obsession, so all-consuming that he had completely neglected the development of the Mark 9.
He sighed, the sound loud in the quiet lab, and walked out, leaving the failed simulations spinning in his wake. He plopped down onto the massive L-shaped couch in his penthouse, the glittering New York skyline a silent witness to his exhaustion.
He closed his eyes, and the image of a laughing, monkey-tailed man effortlessly dismantling his multi-billion-dollar prototypes flashed in his mind.
"Where did that monkey boy get his power?" he muttered to the empty room. "Is that kung-fu shit actually real?" He then sat up and lightly slapped himself across the face. "What the hell am I thinking? There's a scientific explanation for everything."
"J.A.R.V.I.S.," he said, his voice tired. "Any progress on the alternate lattice structures?"
"The compound continues to exhibit quantum instability under pressure, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. "The Badassium atoms are too energetic. When bonded, they don't just share electrons; they seem to actively try to annihilate their neighbors. The material is, for all intents and purposes, too ambitious to be made with our current understanding of particle physics."
Tony stared out at the city, a glass of something expensive and amber in his hand. He was trying. He really was. He had taken Jack's strange, unhinged advice to heart, trying to maintain his relationship with Pepper, even going out for dinner last night in the midst of his research. But this… this was a problem he couldn't solve with a charming smile or a blank check.
He took a long drink, the liquid burning a familiar path down his throat. He had been staring at the problem from the inside out, trying to force the atoms to bend to his will.
He stood up, walking to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes.
"Let's take a step back, J.A.R.V.I.S.," he said softly. "Let's see the whole picture, shall we?"
…
Donald Blake stood in the middle of his dorm room, the last box sealed and ready to go. He had just graduated, early, top of his class. There should have been a sense of triumph, of elation. Instead, he just felt… quiet. He looked around the small, empty room where he had spent years buried in textbooks, and it felt like closing a chapter on a life that was never truly his. His new girlfriend, Jane Foster, a brilliant and wonderfully chaotic force of nature, had helped him pack all night, her presence a warm, steady anchor in the sea of his thoughts.
A sharp knock on the door broke the silence. Donald opened it to find Milo, Darcy, and Jane standing there, their faces split into wide, celebratory grins.
"Congrats, genius!" Milo shouted, pulling him into a one-armed hug.
Jane was next, wrapping her arms around him in a warm, genuine embrace.
Milo wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Oh, my boy is all grown up, ready to get married," he said with a dramatic sniffle. "Oh, how time has passed so fast."
Donald laughed, tapping Milo's knee with his cane. "Stop saying stupid things. You should be worrying about your own papers."
"Ouch," Milo said, clutching his chest. "A physical and a mental blow. You're cruel."
"Donny's right," Darcy chimed in, playfully smacking Milo's arm. "You need to graduate, too."
"Hey, it's not my fault!" Milo shot back. "Donny is just too smart for the rest of us mortals."
They all laughed, the easy, comfortable sound filling the empty room. One by one, they grabbed the remaining boxes and began helping him move his things out.
"Thank you for helping me move," Donald said, a genuine gratitude in his voice.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Milo said with a dismissive wave. "So, where's this new apartment you rented?"
Donald paused at the door. "Oh, I haven't told you guys yet."
They all shook their heads.
"It's in the Golden Peach."
The hallway went silent. Milo, Darcy, and Jane all stopped, their mouths hanging open.
"HOOOWWW?!" they shouted in unison.
"My aunt has been on a waiting list for a year!" Darcy exclaimed. "She said she couldn't even get a place with a reasonable price of rent!"
"Can you blame them?" Milo added, his eyes wide. "The Golden Peach has been dubbed 'Heaven on Earth.' There's literally no crime there! How did you get a rent there?"
Donald rubbed the back of his head, a small, awkward smile on his face. "I don't even know, really. I was just trying my luck. I almost didn't get it; the rent price was outrageous. But as I was searching for other places outside the territory, I suddenly got a call to negotiate."
"Hmmm, lucky you," Milo said, a slow, envious grin spreading across his face. "Well, I could crash at your apartment once in a while, right?"
Donald's smile widened, the quiet unease he had been feeling finally melting away. "Of course," he said. "It would be much more lively with you guys around."
A collective, joyous "YEAAAYYYY!" echoed through the dorm hallway.
…
The polished oak doors of the penthouse office swung shut with a soft, final click. The new mayor of New York, his back still slick with nervous sweat, was escorted out by the silent, imposing guards of the God Tree.
Inside, Natalie Beckman let out a long, weary sigh and sank into her high-backed leather chair. She ran a hand through her hair, the weight of a city-state resting squarely on her shoulders.
"When is he coming back?" she murmured to the empty room. "When is Jack going to come back and take over the Golden Peach?"
From a corner of the room, where he had been standing motionless in the shadows, J, the clone, tilted his head. "Jack already gave you the right to take charge," he said, his voice a calm, steady presence in the quiet office. "You're basically the leader already."
Natalie sighed again, this time with more frustration. "Can I at least add one more secretary to my command?"
J's eyebrow raised. "Aren't four already enough?"
Natalie just pouted, a rare, childish expression that was a stark contrast to her usual professional demeanor.
J chuckled, a low, amused sound. "Okay, okay. Whatever you need." He stepped forward, his posture shifting from a silent guardian to a casual confidant. "By the way, about Donald Blake. Is it done?"
Natalie's expression turned to one of professional efficiency. "Oh, yeah. It's done. He's already signed the contract." She looked at him, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "Why, though? I don't think the Golden Peach is in need of a fresh-grad doctor."
J just smiled, a slow, knowing grin that was a perfect echo of his original. "It's just destiny, that's all," he said, his voice light and unconcerned. "I'm only helping a friend."
Natalie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, too. "Whatever. Keep your secrets."
…
A streak of white and gold cut through the evening sky, descending toward the snow-covered grounds of the Xavier Mansion. The setting sun cast long, serene shadows across the landscape, the fresh blanket of snow giving the world a quiet, peaceful glow.
Jack Hou stepped off Zephyr, his feet landing softly on the pristine lawn. He took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, then strode toward the mansion with a familiar, chaotic purpose.
CRASH!
Once again, the grand double doors of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters were ripped from their hinges, exploding inward in a shower of expensive, splintered wood.
"UNCLE JACK HAS ARRIVED!!" his voice boomed through the foyer, echoing up the grand staircase.
A chorus of excited squeals answered him. A stampede of small feet came rushing from the living room, a blur of pajamas and excited energy. But they ran right past Jack, their eyes fixed on the fluffy, blue-scarfed cloud hovering just outside.
"Zephyr!" they cheered, swarming the sentient cloud, hugging its misty form and poking it with gentle, curious fingers.
Jack stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips, watching the scene with a mock-offended expression. He scanned the group of children, his golden eyes searching for a familiar face. He didn't see him.
He looked over at Colossus, who had come to investigate the commotion. "Where's Billy?" Jack asked.
"Oh," Colossus said, his deep voice a gentle rumble. "He went back to his father for Christmas."
"Ahhh, got it," Jack said with a nod. A slow, wicked grin then spread across his face. "Speaking of Christmas… how would you guys like to come with your uncle and be Santa?"
The children, who had been fawning over Zephyr, all froze. Then, their heads snapped toward him, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated joy. A chorus of "YES!" and "CAN WE?!" erupted from the group.
Jack rubbed his chin, a thoughtful, calculating look on his face. He scanned the group of eager faces, and then his gaze landed on one in particular.
He pointed a finger at Tenzin. "Monk," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "You will come with me. There's some place you need to visit."
–––––––––
A/N: Hey guys... Just a heads-up that I'll be pausing the chapters for a bit on WebNovel. The official graduation date just came out, and the preparations require my full attention for the next little while. Also, the Patreon side still will get the upload once in a while.
I'll miss our daily updates, but I promise to be back as soon as I can. Thank you for being the best readers a writer could ask for. Stay tuned for my return! MAY THE MONKEY KING BLESS YOUR JOURNEY!!!!