Chapter 111: The Weight of Divinity
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The world came back in pieces.
The smell was antiseptic, mingled with ash, blood, and an unfamiliar floral scent. I heard distant voices whispering in hushed, reverent tones as if in a church. It was weird. When I finally yawned and opened my eyes, a canvas stretched overhead, sunlight filtering through to cast everything in amber.
I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Every muscle screamed in protest, like I'd run a marathon through molten glass. The Omnitrix on my wrist felt heavier than usual, its normally vibrant green dulled to red. Still recharging.
"Easy there, miracle worker."
The voice belonged to a nurse, though 'nurse' seemed inadequate for someone whose skin literally glowed with bioluminescent patterns. She approached with the careful reverence usually reserved for holy relics or unexploded bombs.
"How long was I out?" My voice sounded rough, which startled her. I smiled to show it wasn't intentional. She relaxed.
"Fourteen hours." She checked something on a floating medical display. "Your cellular structure showed signs of temporal displacement. The healers weren't sure if you'd age backward or forward when you woke up. How do you feel?"
Of course, even if the prototype Omnitrix wasn't capable of handling Clockwork without a recharge, it wouldn't allow me to age a thousand years either.
"How do I feel…? Like I got hit by a truck, then the truck backed up for another go," that made her laugh. It was a strange sound.
Just fourteen hours. That made me smile. I'd reversed the deaths of four million people and only needed fourteen hours of sleep. Either the Omnitrix was more incredible than I'd thought, or I was becoming something that didn't quite fit the human template anymore.
That's when I noticed them. "What's all this?" The offerings.
They covered every available surface around my bed. Flowers ranging from Earth roses to plants that seemed to exist in seven dimensions simultaneously. Handwritten notes in dozens of languages, some I recognized, others that were annoyingly complex. There were personal tokens too, I noticed.
A child's favorite toy, a wedding ring, military medals, photographs of families that existed because I'd pulled them back from oblivion. Wait no, who the hell gave me their wedding ring?
"They've been coming all night," the nurse said softly. "The people you saved. They wanted to thank you somehow. Well, I'll let you enjoy your time with them. Call me when you need me, I'm right around." She said that and left.
I waited for a bit. Then I reached for the nearest note, written in shaky English.
You brought back my daughter. I don't know how to repay that. I don't think anyone can. But know that the Ramirez family will remember the Boy with the Watch forever.
I could only grin as I set it down. Have you ever saved a child and been thanked by her parents? If not, you should try. Highly recommended. The warm feeling in my chest was easily better than most things.
My finger brushed against another item, this time accidentally. It was a small crystal that pulsed with inner light. The moment my fingers made contact, reality rippled.
The Ancient One materialized, or rather, a recording of her did. The projection flickered with mystical energy, her expression more serious than I'd ever seen it.
"If you're somehow not turned to dust and seeing this, Benjamin Tennyson, then you've done something monumentally stupid and miraculously successful." Her voice carried the weight of centuries. "Reversing death on that scale should have shattered the timeline into infinite shards and caused entities we don't want to see to suddenly rush into Earth. The fact that it didn't means one of two things. Either you're far more talented with temporal manipulation than any mortal has a right to be, or..."
She paused, and I swear the projection looked directly at me, not at where I would be, but where I was.
"Or that device on your wrist is something far more significant than even I suspected. The barriers between life and death aren't meant to be crossed so casually like that... What you've done will have consequences, ripples that spread through dimensions. Forces that feed on death will have felt their meal stolen. Entities that maintain the balance have noticed the scales tip." The hologram flickered. "Many eyes are now fixed upon you, some belonging to entities that normally don't concern themselves with mortal affairs. You've played a role reserved for gods, and gods can be... territorial."
Death.
I was unsure if even the Ancient One knew that, among those entities, one was literally the concept of Death. I was half surprised when I woke up in this chamber rather than in front of Lady Death herself.
More cosmic attention. Just what I needed.
"But," the Ancient One's expression softened slightly, "you saved four million souls. In all my centuries, I've never seen such defiance of fate itself. Whatever comes next, know that you've earned the right to face it. The universe bends for those who refuse to accept its rules."
The projection dissolved, leaving me with more questions than answers. Standard Ancient One conversation, really.
"Ben!"
The tent flap burst open, and suddenly I had an armful of Gwen. She squeezed me tight enough to restart the pain in my ribs, but I didn't care. She smelled like home, like normalcy in all this insanity.
"You moron," she whispered against my shoulder. "You stupid, stupid idiot. How do you feel?!"
Grandpa Max stood behind her, and the look on his face was surprising even for me. Pride mixed with relief mixed with something I'd rarely seen from the old Plumber. Awe.
"You did good, kiddo." His voice was thick with emotion. "You did real good."
I could only smile, "Yeah, thanks. And Gwen, I feel fine now. I was just a bit tired, not injured." For a moment, we just existed in that bubble of family, of people who knew Ben Tennyson, not the Savior of Genosha.
Then Grandpa's expression shifted to something more serious.
"But not everything's celebration." He pulled out a tablet, its screen already glowing with news feeds. "The world knows what happened here. Not everything, the Plumbers made sure your identity stayed hidden, but..."
The screen showed chaos.
CNN: "MIRACULOUS RESURRECTION AT GENOSHA - FOUR MILLION DEAD RETURNED TO LIFE!"
Fox News: "IS IT DIVINE INTERVENTION OR MUTANT DECEPTION?"
BBC: "TEMPORAL ENTITY REVERSES DEATH ITSELF - SCIENTISTS BAFFLED!"
The footage was grainy but unmistakable. My Clockwork form, that brass and copper mechanical god, firing time itself into the sky. The dome expanding and contracting. People materializing from nothing.
"Every religion on Earth is having a theological crisis," Grandpa continued. "Some are calling it the Second Coming, others proof that death isn't final. Governments are in panic mode. If someone can reverse death..."
"Then death becomes negotiable," I finished.
The implications were dangerous. Every dictator, every grieving parent, every person who'd lost someone would want to find Clockwork. Would want to bring back their dead.
I checked the Omnitrix, and it was finally green again. I cycled through the available forms. As I'd expected. There was no Clockwork. The transformation had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, returning to whatever playlist it had come from. The rule of the Omnitrix was that it only gave the user access to some playlists, not particular aliens. Azmuth had intervened to rattle that slightly.
But I doubt it'd happen again.
So until I get the Completed Omnitrix, Clockwork was a faded memory.
"Well then," I said with a bitter laugh, "they're out for some bad luck. That was a one-time deal, it seems. Courtesy of whatever protocol Azmuth activated."
The problem was, people would still try to find me. That'd be really troublesome. My phone buzzed. Jessica's face lit up the screen, and suddenly I needed to hear her voice more than I needed air.
"I should take this," I said, already standing despite my protesting muscles.
Gwen gave me a look but didn't comment. She understood. She too was worried, so she understood. After playing god, I needed something human to anchor me.
The rooftop of the medical tent wasn't much, just a platform for air units to land, but it gave me privacy and a view of Genosha's wounded skyline. I answered on the third ring.
"Please tell me you're not dead," Jessica's voice crackled through, tight with barely controlled panic. "The news is showing... God, Ben, they're showing impossible things."
"Yeah, yeah, that was me," I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty. "The time thing. That was me."
Silence for three heartbeats. Then: "Of course it was. You didn't have to admit that, I could have guessed. Why would I expect anything normal?"
"Uhm..."
"No, I mean it." Her laugh was slightly hysterical. "I'm sitting here in New York, anxiously watching the news with Trish when the resurrection happened. And she turns to me and says 'That's Ben, isn't it?' And I realized. I just knew. Because who else would flip off the laws of physics that hard?"
I laughed.
"Ah, we probably shouldn't talk about this on the phone," she said, but I didn't care who was listening. Not that anyone was.
"Don't worry about it, plumber security," I said, and I could hear her eye roll. "They're securing all lines, nobody's eavesdropping. Encrypted lines, quantum entanglement, whatever."
"You know those words? Wow. Someone's been studying," she teased, feeling more like herself with each word.
We fell into our rhythm, the easy back-and-forth that made everything else fade away. She told me about Trish's reaction to the news, "She literally fainted, Ben. Fainted! Like a Victorian lady." She told me about herself, about how she'd punched a wall when the first reports came in about the genocide.
"I thought I'd lost you," she admitted quietly. "When they showed the destruction, all those bodies, I thought..."
"I'm harder to kill than that," I said, injecting as much confidence as I could manage. "Besides, someone has to come back and deal with your Netflix password crisis."
"It's not a crisis! I just forget which email I used."
"Yeah. But like. You have seventeen emails..."
"A girl needs options."
We talked for nearly half an hour, about everything and nothing, until I felt human again instead of some cosmic force wearing Ben Tennyson's face. When we finally hung up, promising to see each other soon, I had dozens of texts waiting.
Furry Girl: [So... raising the dead now? Grandfather says you've 'walked between worlds' and need spiritual cleansing when you get back. But I'm just checking you're alive. You are, right? Text back or I assume you've been possessed by something ancient and terrible.]
I smiled, typing back. [Still me. No possession. Grandfather is probably right about cleansing though. We should dance in the rain together.]
Setting my phone aside, I looked out over Genosha one more time before heading back. The sun was beginning to set, painting the ruined landscape in golds and reds that somehow made it beautiful despite everything.
I was thinking about this and that when footsteps interrupted. Not normal footsteps, the kind that came with a faint smell of sulfur.
Kurt Wagner materialized beside me, no longer the destroyed flesh Cassandra had left him as, but whole and haunted. He settled onto the rooftop's edge with careful precision, tail wrapping around a support beam.
"Herr Tennyson," he said formally, then softer, "Ben."
"Kurt." I pocketed my phone. "How are you holding up?"
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I died man, what you think?" I shook my head. "I felt every second of it, felt that woman tear me apart layer by layer. Then suddenly I was breathing again, whole, like it was just a nightmare."
"That sounds tough man," I said, because what else could I say? Sorry I couldn't save you the first time? Sorry you had to experience that?
"It was tough, but as they say, if the end's good all's good." He turned those yellow eyes on me, and I saw something that made my chest tight. "You did something that should not be possible. In all my years of faith, all my prayers, I never imagined..." He gestured at himself. "I was really dead, my friend. Not dying, not mostly dead. Dead. And you reached into whatever place we go and pulled me back."
"Um."
Kurt's laugh was hollow. "I was raised Catholic, you know. Death was supposed to be the gateway to judgment, then heaven or hell. But I died, and there was... nothing. Just darkness, then suddenly I was back, whole again." He looked at his blue hands as if unsure they were really his. "It makes one question everything."
"I have a bad feeling about where you're going with this. It wasn't divine intervention, nor did I mean to play god," I said quietly. "Just alien technology and good timing."
"Perhaps." His tail swished thoughtfully. "Or perhaps divinity comes in forms we don't expect. A boy with a watch who refuses to accept that death is final."
The weight of his words was like a lead blanket. It felt damn awkward.
"I'm not a god, Kurt," I reminded him. "I'm just a guy with a watch," I held up my wrist where the Omnitrix gleamed in the fading light. "A guy who couldn't stand by and do nothing."
"No," he agreed. "But you did something godlike. The distinction matters less than you might think to those who were dead five minutes ago."
Kurt studied me with those penetrating yellow eyes, then he smiled. "You know what is strange? When I was dead – or whatever I was – I felt nothing. No fear, no joy, nothing. But since coming back, everything feels... more. Colors are brighter. Food tastes better. Even pain feels like a gift, because it means I'm alive to feel it." He shook his head. "Perhaps that is the miracle. Not just life, but appreciation for it."
We sat in silence for a while longer, watching the stars emerge.
"What will you do now?" Kurt asked eventually.
I thought about Jessica, waiting for me back in New York. About Gwen and Grandpa, about the world that now saw me as something more than human. About the Ancient One's warning of cosmic entities watching. About Magneto declaring me a savior, and sixteen million people who owed me their lives.
"Eh, keep going," I said simply. "One day at a time. Try to live up to what I've become, I guess."
"That seems wise." Kurt stood with natural grace. "And I will do the same. Live this second chance fully." He extended his three-fingered hand. "Merci, Ben Tennyson. Not just for my life, but for showing us all what true heroism looks like."
I took his hand, feeling the weight of his words. "You're welcome, Kurt."
As he walked away, I remained sitting, watching the stars appear one by one above Genosha. Paradise had fallen, but its people lived.
Tomorrow will bring us new challenges. Governments giving explanations to the enraged Magneto, religious institutions questioning what had happened, and people begging me to resurrect their loved ones.
But tonight, under this sky filled with stars that had witnessed both genocide and miracle in the span of days, I allowed myself to simply be.
Not a god, not a savior, just Ben Tennyson. A kid with the most powerful device in the universe, trying his best to do right by a world that grew more complicated with each passing day.
****
In a safehouse thousands of miles from Genosha, Cassandra Nova grumbled in front of the mirror. She touched her neck, staring at her reflection.
She remembered dying. The snap of her neck, the electricity burning through her body at a molecular level, erasing her because the young man didn't want to risk her returning. Then nothing, until suddenly she was back, materializing in the exact spot where she'd fallen.
But she wasn't a fool.
The blue-skinned demon was alive again. The girl with death-touch had her powers back. And that child with the watch... he'd done something impossible.
Cassandra touched her neck again, feeling the phantom memory of breaking bones. Her lips curved into a thin smile. Oh, wasn't this fun?
She fled because… no, she wasn't scared. Of course not. She just had to plan better. This was an opportunity. Let them have their celebration. Let them think they'd won. Time would teach them otherwise.
After all, she had already died once. What was there left to fear?
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