The energy that Vilgax had unleashed, absorbed by Feedback and redirected with space amplification, rippled across reality itself like a stone thrown into the pond of existence. The explosion wasn't merely planetary in scope, it was a universal event that sent shockwaves through every corner of known space.
In an instant, the Nine Realms aligned in perfect conjunction, their celestial bodies overlapping in the endless starry void as darkness swallowed light across multiple star systems. This was the "Convergence" that Malekith had dreamed of achieving, but magnified beyond even his apocalyptic imagination. Every world in the known universe found itself plunged into an unnatural twilight that spoke of fundamental forces being torn from their proper courses.
The darkness carried with it an expansion of Vilgax's divine power, his enhanced consciousness suddenly spanning galactic distances.
On Sakaar, the lights dimmed as space night fell across Ben's carefully constructed empire. Xandar's defensive shields flickered as the wave passed through their star system. Even the three great galactic empires, Kree, Shi'ar, and Skrull, felt the tremor of power that suggested someone had just rewritten the rules of reality.
In distant space, where the Kree were attempting to exploit Skrull weaknesses with the aid of the High Evolutionary's creations, entire fleets paused their conflicts to stare in awe at the space phenomenon. Battle-hardened commanders who had witnessed the deaths of stars found themselves humbled by the sheer scope of what they were observing.
Near the shattered remains of Ego's planet, two figures observed the space disturbance with varying degrees of interest. The Silver Surfer hovered motionless on his gleaming board, his enhanced senses cataloging energy readings that defied conventional measurement.
"A terrifying existence has been born," he reported to his master with the respectful formality that had characterized their relationship across eons of partnership.
Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, continued his methodical consumption of Ego's planetary remains without visible reaction. To a being who had existed since before the current universe's formation, who had witnessed the birth and death of countless civilizations, even this display of power registered as merely noteworthy rather than alarming.
"It matters not," Galactus replied with the casual dismissal of someone whose personal power dwarfed stellar formations. "I will intervene if necessary."
The pause that followed spoke volumes about the space hierarchy. Galactus was one of the five fundamental forces that maintained universal balance, entities whose existence transcended the petty concerns of single-reality conflicts. If this Vilgax truly threatened multiversal stability, if no lesser power could contain his expansion, then and only then would the Devourer of Worlds bestir himself to action.
"The universe has not faced an irresistible threat for hundreds of millions of years," Galactus continued, his voice carrying the weight of geological ages. "That is because they understand that I, the invincible Galactus, guard the multiverse against such pretenders. These ignorant single-universe entities lack the scope to truly threaten creation itself."
His confidence was absolute, backed by power that had shaped the fundamental forces of reality. In his perception, Vilgax was simply another space tyrant whose reach had temporarily exceeded his grasp, a problem that would solve itself through the natural mechanisms of universal correction.
But to every other force in the galaxy, the expanding darkness represented nothing less than potential universal extinction.
In what had once been Manhattan, two figures stood in the smoking crater that marked the epicenter of space destruction. The familiar skyline of New York had been erased so completely that even the underlying bedrock showed signs of metamorphic transformation, compressed and altered by energies that operated beyond conventional physics.
Black rocks fell from the sky like a deadly rain, fragments of matter that had been blown into the upper atmosphere during the explosion and now returned as projectiles hard as volcanic glass. Each impact created small craters in the already devastated landscape, a percussion symphony of destruction that echoed across the wasteland.
Vilgax stood unharmed amidst this apocalyptic scene, his enhanced form radiating satisfaction as he surveyed the scope of his power. The attack had been his own energy, after all, redirected by Feedback but fundamentally unchanged in its essential nature. His divinely enhanced physiology had absorbed the space forces like a man walking through gentle rain.
More importantly, the explosion had demonstrated something crucial: the entire Nine Realms now served as his personal energy source. Through his connection to the conquered divine essences, he could reach across interstellar distances to strike at any target within the space web that connected Asgard to its dimensional neighbors.
"If I desired it," he mused aloud, testing the scope of his newfound capabilities, "I could shoot down Sakaar from here. Distance has become irrelevant."
In his massive hand, held like a broken toy, was the form of Feedback. Ben's alien transformation had survived the explosion, but barely, his conductoid physiology was designed for energy absorption and redirection, not for withstanding the kind of physical trauma that came from being grabbed by a being whose strength could crack moons.
"Conductoid's energy absorption capabilities are indeed remarkable," Vilgax observed, studying his captive with the detached interest of a scientist examining a specimen. "Unfortunately, physical durability was never their species' forte."
He lifted Ben higher, bringing the nearly unconscious form closer to his eyes. The comparison was absurd, where Ben's enhanced form measured roughly human scale, Vilgax had grown to proportions that made him look like a living skyscraper. His palm could encompass Ben's entire head with room to spare.
"You have lost, Ben Parker," Vilgax declared, his voice carrying the finality of space judgment. "Surrender the Omnitrix now, and I will grant you and your pathetic planet a swift end. Continue this futile resistance, and I will tear the device from your corpse after making you watch as I systematically destroy everyone you have ever cared about."
To emphasize his point, he gestured toward the distant flashes of light that marked other battlefields across the planet. "Psyphon has already engaged your horse-faced subordinate. Without my direct attention required here, he will overwhelm your forces within the hour."
With casual contempt, Vilgax released his grip and allowed Ben to fall to the crater floor. The impact would have shattered human bones, but the Omnitrix's protective systems absorbed enough of the kinetic energy to prevent immediate death.
As Ben hit the ground, his transformation automatically cancelled, leaving him in his vulnerable human form surrounded by the evidence of his complete defeat.
"I understand this device better than anyone save its creator," Vilgax continued, his tone shifting to something that might have been mistaken for reasonableness if not for the space threat underlying every word. "Genetic binding makes forcible removal... complicated. But not impossible."
He knelt beside Ben's prone form, one massive finger touching the Omnitrix's faceplate with surprising gentleness. "Cooperation would be far more efficient for both of us. Your willing surrender prevents unnecessary damage to the watch's core systems, while my mercy prevents unnecessary suffering for your species."
The offer hung in the air like a poisoned gift, reasonable on its surface but carrying implications that made Ben's enhanced healing factor work overtime just to keep him conscious enough to respond.
Miles away, Beta Ray Bill stood in the ruins of what had once been a thriving metropolis, his cybernetic systems reporting damage levels that should have been incompatible with continued function. Every muscle in his enhanced frame felt like it had been subjected to industrial-grade stress testing, while his weapon, the Universal Weapon that had served him faithfully across countless battles, had never felt heavier in his grasp.
His opponent, Psyphon, seemed almost refreshed by their extended combat. The Sky Hammer had not merely enhanced the alien lieutenant's natural abilities, it had transformed him into something approaching godhood, with access to power reserves that appeared genuinely infinite.
"You're too slow, Psyphon," came a new voice from above.
Thal'Ba descended from the darkened sky like a falling star, his own Sky Hammer crackling with barely contained space energy. The second Sky Hammer Messenger's arrival turned an already desperate situation into an impossible one.
"I was demonstrating Lord Vilgax's magnificent power," Psyphon replied with the kind of defensive pride that suggested his ego remained intact despite his divine enhancement. "Unlike some, I understand the value of savoring victory."
"Lord Vilgax grows impatient," Thal'Ba countered coldly. "End this primitive quickly, or stand aside and allow me to demonstrate proper efficiency."
The mention of Vilgax's displeasure sent visible tension through Psyphon's enhanced frame. For all his space power, for all his divine authority, his fundamental loyalty remained unchanged. Vilgax wasn't just his commander, he was the closest thing to a father figure the alien had ever known.
"Together, then," Psyphon decided, raising his Sky Hammer with renewed purpose. "We capture Earth immediately and present it to Lord Vilgax as a conquered prize."
Both messanger began channeling their enhanced abilities simultaneously, divine energy building around them like the prelude to stellar formation. The combined force of two Sky Hammer Messengers attacking in coordination represented enough destructive potential to sterilize continents.
Bill closed his eyes, his warrior's pride accepting the inevitable with stoic dignity. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he whispered, thinking of Ben and the trust that had been placed in him. "I have failed in my duties."
The Sky Hammers descended toward his position like falling meteors, their space power already distorting space-time around their impact vectors.
Then the Rainbow Bridge erupted across the sky like the dawn of creation itself.
The brilliant spectrum of the Bifrost carved through Vilgax's artificial darkness with the authority of divine will made manifest. Where it touched the ruined Earth, color returned to the world, not merely the restoration of light, but the fundamental affirmation that hope itself remained possible.
From within that cascade of space radiance stepped a figure that embodied everything the legends had promised and more.
Thor Odinson had been transformed by his trials in ways that transcended mere physical enhancement. Gone was the impetuous prince who had once valued strength above wisdom. In his place stood a true god-king, his remaining eye blazing with power that had been earned through sacrifice and tempered by genuine understanding of leadership's burden.
Silver armor, crafted by the greatest smiths in the Nine Realms, gleamed with runic inscriptions that pulsed with their own inner light. The golden spear Gungnir rested in his right hand like a living extension of his will, while a silver hammer hung from his left, weapons that were no longer crutches for his power but expressions of it.
Most dramatically, the divine energy that surrounded him carried new harmonics. His traditional Asgardian might had been interwoven with Mana drawn from Genesis itself, creating a fusion that elevated him beyond anything he had previously achieved.
"Thor, son of Odin!" his voice rang across the battlefield with the kind of authority that made mountains bow. "I bring victory to this war!"
Blue lightning illuminated his face, revealing the eye patch that marked his sacrifice and the absolute determination that had replaced his former arrogance. This was not the Thor who had been cast down for his pride, this was the king Asgard had always needed, tempered by loss and strengthened by true understanding.
Without hesitation, he raised Gungnir and hurled it with the force of divine judgment.
The golden spear crossed the distance between them faster than thought, its trajectory guided by space will rather than mere physics. Thal'Ba, despite his enhanced reflexes and space awareness, had no time to dodge or deflect the attack.
THOOM!
The spear punched through his enhanced armor like it was constructed from paper, the impact carrying enough momentum to lift him from the ground and launch him on a ballistic trajectory that would carry him halfway around the planet. His form became a rapidly diminishing star as he flew backward through the atmosphere, crossing continents before finally impacting in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean with enough force to trigger tidal waves.
Thor's single eye tracked the alien's flight path with casual interest before turning his attention to the remaining threat.
"Thor Odinson," Bill said, recognition and relief warring in his voice. "Loki's brother."
"Time is short," Thor replied, extending the silver hammer toward the wounded Korbinite warrior. "Eitri had time to forge only one replacement before... events overtook us. I believe you have greater need of it than I do."
The offer carried symbolic weight that transcended its practical value. Bill had never been found worthy of Mjolnir, had never been chosen by space forces for special recognition. But Thor's judgment, backed by his newfound wisdom, carried its own authority.
"Something I've learned," Thor continued as Bill's cybernetic hand closed around the hammer's grip, "is that worthiness was never about the weapon. A true king rules regardless of the symbols he carries. A true warrior fights regardless of the tools at his disposal."
Storm energy erupted around Bill as the hammer accepted him, the weapon's embedded enchantments recognizing a spirit that had been tested in cosmic fire and emerged unbroken. Lightning crackled through his cybernetic systems, enhancing rather than interfering with his technological components.
"This is..." Bill stared at the transformation occurring within his own body as divine power integrated with his enhanced physiology.
"Stormbreaker," Thor explained with satisfaction. "It will serve you as well as Mjolnir once served me. Better, perhaps, since you understand that the weapon does not make the warrior."
He straightened, divine power already building around him as he prepared for the next phase of battle. "Deal with this shark-faced pretender. I have a space tyrant to face, and a war to end."
Lightning erupted around the God of Thunder as he prepared to cross an ocean in a single step, following the trajectory of his spear to finish what he had started.
The tide of battle was finally beginning to turn.