The Crossroads - Special Fragmentation ChamberDay 1 of the ProcedurePresent: Marco, Jean, TARS, Tarínel (elven healer), Legion, Celebrimbor (monitoring)
Marco had spent all night preparing the camera.
It was no simple process. It required a ritual circle of multiversal runes—some from the Marvel Universe, some from Bleach, some that TARS had designed specifically for this occasion.
The circle glowed with soft light, pulsing in a rhythm that matched a human heartbeat.
Jean Grey stood in the center, dressed in simple white clothes that Tarínel had provided. Her expression was calm, but Marco could see tension in her shoulders.
"Ready?" Marco asked.
"Can one be ready to split into five versions of oneself?" Jean tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But yes. Let's do it before it loses its value."
"Legion, any last-minute advice?"
Legion, observing from the edge of the circle, considered.
"When it's complete, there will be a moment of confusion. Five separate but connected consciousnesses trying to process existing simultaneously. It's... disorienting. My advice: don't fight it. Accept that you are now 'we' instead of 'I'."
"'Us,'" Jean repeated. "It's going to take some getting used to."
"You'll get used to it," Legion assured him. "Or they'll get used to it. Grammar gets complicated."
[Marco, all the parameters are ready. Start whenever you want.]
"Tarinel, are you ready for medical intervention if something goes wrong?"
The elven healer nodded, her hands glowing with ready golden light.
"I'm prepared. Although honestly, if something goes wrong with THIS..." she looked at Jean with respect mixed with fear, "...I doubt my skills will be enough."
"Let's hope we don't have to find out." Marco activated his Nen, Ten enveloping him like armor. "Jean, last chance to back down."
"No. Let's do it."
"Then TARS... initiates fragmentation sequence."
[Starting in 3... 2... 1... ACTIVATING.]
The runes of the circle EXPLODED in brilliance.
Jean screamed—not from pain, but from SHOCK—when the process began.
Her body began to glow. Red. Gold. White. Colors that shouldn't exist in the visible spectrum.
And then... it began to DIVIDE.
Not physically at first. It was more subtle. His aura—that massive presence that radiated cosmic power—began to fragment like glass struck with a hammer.
One fracture. Then another. And another.
"Marco..." Jean's voice came out fractured, multiple, "...I can feel myself... splitting apart... it's..."
"Painful?"
"No! It's... it's BEAUTIFUL. I can feel each fragment taking shape. Each one with a part of me. Each one BEING me but also being... more."
The brightness intensified until it was almost blinding.
Celebrimbor, monitoring from his device, shouted:
"Energy levels reaching critical threshold! If this explodes—!"
"It won't explode!" Marco insisted, though honestly he wasn't sure. "TARS, stabilize the process!"
[Adjusting parameters... CONTAINING!]
And then, with sound as reality itself TEARING APART, the process was complete.
The light faded.
Where Jean Grey had been...
Now there were FIVE.
Immediately After Fragmentation
The five Jean Greys stood in a circle, each looking at the others with an identical expression of utter amazement.
But they weren't completely identical.
Jean Prime (center): She looked exactly like the original Jean. Black hair, brown eyes that occasionally flashed gold. But her presence was more... centered. Controlled.
Jean Fuego (north): Her hair had bright red streaks. Her eyes burned with constant but controlled flames. She radiated heat.
Jean Vida (east): Her hair had a subtle green tint. Her skin glowed with soft light. Small plants sprouted spontaneously around her feet.
Jean Mente (south): Lucía looked paler, almost ethereal. Her eyes were pure silver. When she moved, she left trails of telepathic light.
Jean Cosmos (to the west): The most changed. Her skin had a subtle pattern of stars. Her eyes contained galaxies. She floated centimeters above the ground.
For thirty seconds, neither of them spoke.
They just looked at each other, processing.
Then, all together:
"This is SO WEIRD."
Marco felt chills. The perfect timing was unsettling.
River Legion.
"That's it! Exactly that! Welcome to the club of fragmented consciousness."
The five Jeans turned to Legion. Then to Marco. Then back to each other again.
Jean Prime spoke first:
"I can... I can feel them all. Their thoughts. Their emotions. We are separate but connected. Like..." she searched for an analogy, "...like fingers on a hand."
"And the power?" Marco asked carefully. "Was it divided equally?"
Jean Cosmos replied, his voice resonating with strange harmonics:
"Not exactly. Jean Prime has a core—about 40%. The four of us have 15% each. But..." she raised her hand, manifesting a small Phoenix flame, "...it's CONTROLLABLE. For the first time in weeks, I don't feel like I'm going to explode."
"Do they all feel the same way?"
All five nodded simultaneously. Again, eerily synchronized.
Jean Mente spoke, her voice soft but clear:
"We share a basic consciousness but we have... inclinations. I feel more connected to telepathic aspects. Jean Fuego to destruction and rebirth. Jean Vida to healing and creation. Jean Cosmos to universal knowledge."
"And Jean Prime?"
Jean Prime smiled.
"I am the balance. The coordinator. Like James for Legion, I am the one who keeps everyone connected and functioning as a unit."
[Marco, the process was 100% successful. Energy levels are stable. Consciousness is fragmented but coherent. This is... this is better than I expected.]
"Without side effects?"
[Well... there is one.]
"Of course there is."
[The five need to stay within 10 kilometers of each other or the connection weakens. Essentially, they are a unit. They can operate independently but cannot stray too far apart.]
Marco passed this on to the Jeans.
They (They? She? Grammar WAS complicated) considered.
"That's... manageable," Jean Vida said. "I don't plan on traveling alone anyway. We're a team now."
"Literally," added Jean Fuego with a wry smile.
Tarínel approached cautiously, scanning each Jean with his elven senses.
"This is extraordinary. Each one is a complete being, but they are all linked at a fundamental level. It's like..." she searched for words, "...like a five-part song in perfect harmony."
"That's a beautiful description," said Jean Prime. "And appropriate. We feel in harmony."
"And the Phoenix Force?" Marco asked. "Are they satisfied with the arrangement?"
The five Jeans closed their eyes simultaneously. Marco felt power pulsing—communication on a plane he couldn't fully perceive.
Then they opened their eyes. This time, ALL their eyes shone pure gold.
And when they spoke, it was a single voice that resonated from five mouths:
" The Force is pleased. Fragmentation is natural. The phoenix is life, death, and rebirth. Division and union. This is appropriate. "
Then the brightness faded and they were five individuals again.
"Okay," Marco said weakly, "that was terrifying."
"I'm sorry," Jean Prime apologized. "The Force wanted to communicate directly. It took temporary control."
"Can he do that whenever he wants?"
"Only when we're all completely in sync. And only for brief moments." Jean Mente touched her temple. "But it's a useful reminder: we're hosts, not masters. The Force cooperates but doesn't obey."
Legion nodded in understanding.
"Just like my personalities. Cooperation is key, not domination."
Elrond's Hall - Two Hours LaterOfficial Presentation of the Five Jeans
Elrond had assembled a full council to officially meet the new... guests? Clients?
Nobody was sure of the correct term.
The five Jeans entered together, moving with a synchronization that was half beautiful, half unsettling.
"Lord Elrond," Jean Prime greeted with a respectful bow. "Thank you for allowing us to stay in your kingdom."
"It's... my pleasure," Elrond replied, clearly still processing seeing FIVE versions of the same person. "How should I address you? As Jean? As ... Jeans plural ? "
"Good question," admitted Jean Cosmos. "We're working on it."
"Jean Prime when speaking to me specifically," suggested the central Jean. "And Jeans when referring to the entire group."
"I have a suggestion," Jean Fuego said with a mischievous smile. "How about individual names? To make it easier to tell us apart."
"We already recognize you," Círdan pointed out. "By hair color and... aura."
"Yes, but names would be easier. And more personal." Jean Fuego looked at his other versions. "What do you think?"
There was a moment of silent communication—clearly telepathic.
"Okay," said Jean Mente. "Individual names but keeping 'Jean' as a shared last name."
"Jean Phoenix for me," Jean Fuego declared immediately. "Obviously."
"Jean Sage," said Jean Mente. "Wisdom and knowledge."
"Jean Hope," Jean Vida suggested gently. "Because I represent life and renewal."
"Jean Cosmic," said Jean Cosmos. "Simple and descriptive."
"And I'll stay as Jean Prime," the center concluded. "Or just Jean for friends."
Marco wrote all of this.
"So we have: Jean Prime/Jean, Jean Phoenix, Jean Sage, Jean Hope, and Jean Cosmic. The Jeans Grey. Sounds like a band."
"The superhero group," added Jean Phoenix. "Five Force Phoenix. We should have matching uniforms!"
"No," the other four Jeans said simultaneously.
"Spoilsport."
Celebrimbor, fascinated by the whole process, asked:
"Can they separate? Go to different places?"
"Within 10 kilometers, yes," confirmed Jean Sage. "Beyond that, the connection weakens. Eventually, with practice, perhaps we can extend the range."
"And what if one of you... dies?" Glorfindel asked with the pragmatism typical of a warrior.
Awkward silence.
"We don't know," Jean Prime finally admitted. "The other four of us would probably survive, but weakened. Perhaps the power of the fall would be redistributed. Or perhaps we would all die together." She paused. "We prefer not to find out experimentally."
"Understandable."
Elrond stood up.
"So, officially, welcome to Rivendell, the Jeans Greys. Marco has vouched for your stability and behavior. I trust your judgment." He looked at each Jean individually. "But understand: Rivendell is a haven of peace. Should your power become unchecked—should you pose a threat—I will take measures to protect my people."
"Completely fair," Jean Prime agreed. "And if that happens, help us contain it. We don't want to harm innocent people."
"Then we agree."
Training Gardens - Sunset
Marco had suggested that the Jeans test their individual skills in a controlled environment.
Glorfindel had (nervously) agreed to supervise.
Jean Phoenix went first. She raised her hand and flames—real Phoenix Force flames—exploded around her.
"Control ! " he shouted. The flames formed a firebird that flew in circles before dissipating. "MUCH better than before! Before, it would have burned a whole acre."
Jean Hope touched down. Instantly, flowers bloomed. Not just flowers—small trees grew at an accelerated rate. In thirty seconds, she had created a garden.
"Life," he murmured in awe. "I can FEEL all living things around me. Every plant. Every insect. Every..." He glanced at Glorfindel, "...every elf. Your life force is BEAUTIFUL."
Glorfindel looked uncomfortable under scrutiny.
Jean Sage closed her eyes. Her voice resonated telepathically in the minds of everyone present:
"I can hear their thoughts. Not read them—just sense the surface. Marco is worried. Glorfindel is cautious. The other Jeans are excited. And Legion..." She opened her eyes, looking toward the building where Legion was watching, "...Legion is jealous but also proud. He wants what we have but he's glad we've succeeded."
Jean Cosmic floated higher—three meters off the ground.
"I can see... everything. The probability lines. Possible futures. Alternate pasts." His eyes gleamed. "There are 847 futures where this ends well. 203 where it ends in disaster. And 1,042 where it turns out... complicated."
"What defines 'complicated'?" Marco asked.
"Unexpected consequences. Changed relationships. Power used in unanticipated ways." Jean Cosmic descended. "The future is fluid. My visions are probabilities, not certainties."
"Still useful."
Jean Prime, the last one, simply stood still. Then she raised both hands.
And for a moment—just a moment—the other four Jeans glowed. Their powers UNIFIED, flowing through Jean Prime as a conduit.
At that moment, Jean Prime was radiating 100% of the Phoenix Force's power.
Then he released him and he returned to normal.
"Complete coordination," he explained. "In emergencies, I can channel all our combined power. Briefly. It's exhausting, but possible."
Glorfindel whistled low.
"You are... formidable. Terrifying, but formidable."
"Thank you," the five of them said simultaneously. Then they laughed together, realizing how synchronized they were.
The Crossroads - Night
Marco was finishing up his notes for the day when Legion appeared.
"I succeeded today," he announced. "My personalities remained in harmony for six hours straight. No internal fighting. No headaches."
"That's excellent!"
"The Jeans inspired me. Seeing fragmentation work for them gave me hope that reunification will work for me." Legion sat down. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Clear."
"Why are you doing this? Dealing with clients like us—entities that could accidentally kill you. Problems that are WAY beyond normal commerce. Why?"
Marco considered the question honestly.
"Because it matters. Because if I don't help, who will ? The Jeans would have eventually exploded, destroying planets. You would have lost control, causing dimensional havoc . But now..." he smiled, "...now they have a chance. A future. And that's worth every sleepless night and every moment of terror."
"You're an idealist."
"I'm a pragmatist who also happens to be an idealist. There's a difference."
River Legion.
"I need to ask you something else."
"That?"
"When I'm reunited—when I'm finally a complete Legion — what will I do? Where will I go?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know. My world is complicated. Constant conflicts. Expectations. But here..." she looked around, "...here it's peaceful. People treat me like a person, not like a threat or a weapon. It's... nice."
"Then stay. For a while. There's no rush."
Would Elrond agree?
"I'll ask him. But I think so. You've behaved yourself. You haven't destroyed anything. You helped Jean. That counts."
Legion smiled—genuine, without sarcasm.
"Thank you, Marco. For everything."
Marco's Room - Midnight
[Marco, end-of-day analysis.]
"Do we have to?"
[Yes. It's important for record-keeping.]
"Okay. Shoot."
[Jean's fragmentation process: Complete success. Five stable and functional entities. Risk of cosmic explosion: Reduced from 87% to 12%.]
[Legion's progress: Significant. It is 60% of the way to full reunification. Estimated time remaining: 4-6 months.]
[Your financial balance: 70,000 MC still. You didn't gain anything today, but you didn't lose anything either.]
[Multiversal reputation: GROWING. Word is spreading about 'merchant who helps the impossible'.]
[Probability of more apocalyptic customers arriving: 73%.]
Marco groaned.
"Why ALWAYS apocalyptic clients?"
[Because ordinary customers don't need a multiversal merchant. They need a local store. You specialize in impossibilities. Impossibilities are, by definition, apocalyptic.]
"Horrible logic, but valid."
[Also, update: Boromir arrived in Gondor with Gurthang. Reports say he killed three trolls on the first day. Alone. The sword is working exactly as you promised.]
"And the curse?"
[So far, it hasn't manifested itself. But it's early. Gurthang is patient.]
"Then we wait."
[As usual.]
Marco stretched, feeling every muscle protest.
"You know what, TARS?"
[That?]
"Despite everything—the stress, the fear, the dangerous clients—I wouldn't change this."
[Oh really?]
"Seriously. I'm making a real difference. Saving lives. Changing destinies." He smiled in the darkness. "My taco stand never did that."
[Your tacos were pretty good, to be fair.]
"Thank you. But this is better. This is purpose."
[Then sleep, purposeful merchant. Tomorrow the five Jeans want a group therapy session. It's going to be... interesting.]
"Five versions of the same person in therapy. What could possibly go wrong?"
[Historically, everything. But optimism is adorable.]
"Good evening, TARS."
Good evening, Marco. And Marco...
"Yeah?"
[You're doing well. Better than I expected. I'm... proud isn't the right word for AI. But close.]
Marco felt warmth in his chest.
"Thank you, TARS. That means more than you know."
And for the first time in weeks, Marco slept soundly.
No nightmares. No worries.
Only peace.
Because there were five Jeans Grey, a nearly reunited Legion, and a whole valley of elves making sure nothing exploded during the night.
And if that wasn't community...
Marco didn't know what it was.
[END OF CHAPTER 19]