(Don't be surprised later—when someone stronger takes control of a mutant's body, they can sometimes use the power more effectively. For example, Bobby was considered 'weak,' but when Emma Frost took control of his body, she instantly froze an entire continent)
(More than 3k words in this chapter and maybe some cringe?)
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To understand what was truly happening—the mystery that Fury, watching the broadcast right now, is willing to pay with his hair to uncover—it's necessary to go back to when Jean was in a desperate situation like all the members of the anti-Brotherhood team and asked for help from Hela.
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Hela's POV
I was watching the situation unfold, with Magneto giving his speech, wondering how it would develop. Would Jean suddenly receive the Phoenix Force? Would the Ancient One intervene? Or would Deadpool suddenly break the Fourth Wall to help?
Anyway, my intuition told me that this situation would definitely not escalate into something bad.
"Hela, can you help us?"
Oh, it turned out that I'm the deus ex machina? I mean, that was my honest reaction.
I floated down towards her, thinking seriously. "I have told you that I reached some kind of agreement with someone here and can't interfere directly, especially right now, haven't I?"
Ah, this sh*t, I didn't even know why I lied to her in the first place about being a Queen and all, but anyway, after establishing some kind of trust, it's only fair that I reveal the truth to her.
To be precise, I was waiting to personally come with my body, you know, to give her a surprise when she feels a little sad, hehe.
Anyway, she would discover it sooner or later when I started taking action. It's better that it comes from me rather than her discovering it by accident—that would make me lose my aura.
Seriously, I told her before that I couldn't interfere with the affairs on Earth because I had reached some kind of contract with the 'supervisor' here.
Now, she wasn't really selfish after I told her that I was planning to 'breach' the contract, especially after mentioning that the next time I came, it would be with my physical body.
I didn't give her time to reply. "You know, for all these people to die, I don't really care, and don't worry—even if everyone dies here, you'll be alive, you have my promise."
She shook her head. "You know this isn't what I'm talking about. I want your help to save this situation, not to make things more sh*tty than they already are."
I rolled my eyes, looking at her like she was an idiot. "Are you silly? I told you that I don't really care about how bad this situation can turn out—just a few humans dying, something that happens like every day."
It's not that I'm an asshole or anything, but think of my situation.
Let's put it this way: this fight is being broadcast around the whole world. I'm sure Thor—who is Doctor Donald Blake, living as a normal human with his memory sealed by Odin—is also watching this.
Then Odin, who is watching over Thor, would naturally see what is happening. As long as I act here, he would notice and directly concentrate his attention here to see it, also not to forget Heimdall.
As hurtful as it may be, the me right now is definitely not Odin's opponent. And that's just one of the problems—what if the Ancient One decided to 'yank' my soul back to Hel for interfering? There are too many 'what ifs' here.
I'm not really someone who acts without caring about the consequences of my actions, but there must, in the first place, be a reason for me to act. Seriously, just for the possible 'death' of a few, should I return to 'jail'?
"Please, Hela… you're the only one I can turn on right now. We've been together day and night for so long. I really need your help—please," Jean said, eyes wide and watery, trying to weaponize her puppy-dog gaze like it hadn't dulled from overuse.
She looked utterly pitiful—though from where I was standing, it was more serial killer talks to invisible friend levels of disturbing. After all, I was invisible to everyone but Jean.
So to the Brotherhood of Mutants, it looked like she was pleading with thin air while Magneto, ever the dramatic statue, ignored her completely.
The rest of the Brotherhood just stared, probably weighing whether to call for a psychic evaluation or grab popcorn.
I sighed. Loudly. Not that anyone heard it. Was I really that bad at acting?
I'd been trying to keep up the whole aloof-queen persona, you know, all cold and untouchable, like some goddess of war who's too regal to care about mortal affairs—while secretly resisting the urge to tease Jean just to see her squirm or look at me with admiration.
Or fear. Either would do. Unfortunately, Jean treated me more like a college roommate than a divine force, which was… kind of insulting, honestly.
"Jean," I said with the patience of a saint—or a cat about to knock something off a table. "First of all, like I've told you before, this is just my Astral Projection. I can't touch the physical world."
"If Magneto were asleep, meditating, or dead, maybe I could hijack his brain. But as you can see, he's alive, well, and ignoring you with all the finesse of a bad Tinder date."
"Second, I could theoretically possess someone's body… but frankly, most of them are beneath me. My soul is a bit much—like shoving a hurricane into a balloon. Probably wouldn't last more than a few minutes before things exploded. Literally."
Sure, we're in the middle of a battlefield. Plenty of bodies, right? Unfortunately, most of the soldiers ended up as what I can only describe as performance art from Hell—twisted, melted, and very much not usable.
The mutant corpses? Only the weaklings died. Barely even that.
And don't get me started on the idea of possessing Toad. He's still alive, but… no. Just no. I'd rather be obliterated by Odin's wrath than spend five seconds inside that snot-slinging disaster.
Maybe it's the lingering trauma of my past life. Or maybe it's just the innate nobility of my current form talking. Either way, there's no way in Hel I'm slumming it in that body.
"You see, it's not every vessel that can hold a god's soul. Take yourself as an example—I told you there's a cosmic entity with which you have perfect compatibility, but even then, there are so many complications just for you to receive its power."
In this world, my knowledge of the future might seem like a great advantage—but unfortunately, this is the Marvel Universe.
Beings who can see different timelines, parallel worlds, the past, and the future can't even be counted on one hand. You'd need multiple hands. Possibly a small army of hands.
So over the past few days with Jean, I've let a few things slip. Not the critical ones that could give me a major edge, of course—I'm not stupid—but enough to prep her mentally.
I want her to be ready for anything, not a ticking time bomb who'll lose control and nuke the planet every time she gets emotional.
I made her understand that the Phoenix Force isn't some parasitic invader—it's a cosmic entity that wants a symbiotic relationship. Jean isn't just a puppet or a battery; she's a partner in this cosmic dance.
Sure, there are deeper reasons—like how the Phoenix is weirdly attached to Jean's family in recent comics before I died. Or how it doesn't consider her its only host, just its favorite.
But the facts are undeniable: it sees Jean as its perfect host. So perfect, in fact, that it's resurrected her, saved her from death, and generally acted like a cosmic sugar daddy more than once.
I thought this would reassure her, give her perspective.
What I didn't expect was for her to turn it around on me.
"Why can't you use my body then?" she asked.
I stared at her like she'd grown a second head. Since when did mutants develop enough brain cells to ask strategic questions?
Then again, when you really sit down and think about it—seriously, not while high on cosmic power or ego—Jean isn't your average mutant.
No, she's an Omega-level mutant handpicked, pampered, and practically groomed by the damn Phoenix Force itself. A walking, talking, red-haired 'Perfect Vesse' in training.
And here's the thing—whether it's Jean or Wanda, these two are like deluxe, extra-large spiritual condominiums.
Perfectly designed to host primordial entities or raw cosmic energy, even when they're not at full strength. That's the kicker.
Even when they're weak, they can still take in forces that would vaporize entire pantheons.
So, theoretically—and I say this with all the modesty of a Allmother-in-the-making—I could possess Jean's body without any real trouble and still use most of my powers without worrying about it short-circuiting like a cheap toaster in a thunderstorm.
The real question is: what's in it for me?
Sure, possessing her might provoke a few cosmic entities, maybe ruffle some eldritch feathers. Great. That means more enemies, more drama, more chances to collect juicy rewards from the system.
Honestly, I've barely done anything since arriving on Earth, and the system's already tossed a few shiny gifts my way like I'm its favorite little psychopath. (Rewards would be reviewed when she returns to Hel, probably)
No doubt about it—if I keep playing the villain card and drawing aggro from the big boys, the rewards will only get better.
But hey, let's not pretend I'm doing this for cosmic cashback alone—I need more than just fireworks and loot boxes.
So, here's the next puzzle: is Jean, current Jean, even worth the effort?
I mulled it over for a while, then let a sweet (sinister) smile tug at my lips. "Alright," I said, voice smooth as silk over a blade. "I'll help you... but under a few conditions."
"First and foremost, you need to swear allegiance to me. The undying, never-betray-you, carve-it-into-your-soul kind of allegiance. You'll be a guardian of my kingdom (Hel), if we're being formal—and no matter how strong you get, this oath stays. No loopholes, no cosmic fine print."
"And—don't speak yet—if I do help you, you'll need to willingly let me take control of your body. Fully and completely."
"Of course, there'll be side effects. Your soul's strong, so I won't accidentally digest it or anything... probably. But make no mistake, you will get contaminated. Emotions, maybe the occasional bloodlust, little things."
I mean, let's be honest: with my help, Jean would be the best Phoenix host in history. Not just a vessel—the vessel.
Refined, unstoppable, and most importantly... mine. When she learns to wield that power perfectly, I'll have one of the strongest cosmic forces in the multiverse as my sworn follower.
Of course, I'm not stupid. Trust is earned—and insurance is everything. I've already got a little backhand trick to keep her in line, something to make sure she honors the deal. But that's for later.
After giving her the choice, I waited for her answer. I didn't hide anything from her—I simply gave her the freedom to choose. Whatever happens next, it'll be by her own decision.
She didn't hesitate for even a few seconds before making up her mind. That much was obvious from the resolute look on her face, like someone prepared to die.
The determination in her eyes said it all. And honestly, it made sense—every second wasted could mean Scott's death.
"I, Jean Grey, swear that as long as you help save Scott and stop Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants from causing more trouble, I am yours. My loyalty is absolute. I won't betray you, not now, not ever."
"I'll serve you before Xavier, before the X-Men, even before my own ideals. If I break this oath, you can take everything from me—my power, my life, my soul."
Okay, that was way more commitment than I expected. It might've looked funny to someone who didn't know better, watching her talk to the air like that, but the rest of the X-Men knew about me. They knew who she was talking to.
So the moment Jean began speaking, even quietly, they were already paying attention. Bobby, Hank (who was barely in shape), and the injured Warren didn't bother pretending not to notice.
They all looked toward her, which naturally drew the attention of Magneto—and likely the whole damn world. This felt like one of those moments where the hero pulls out her final card and prepares to sacrifice everything.
Well, what's done is done. I guess it's time to flex my muscles a bit. "Okay, enter Astral Projection mode. Don't resist if you feel like you're losing your body afterward."
The Astral Plane is something most telepaths can enter with a bit of meditation. For bonding purposes, I'd already taught her how. We'd used it to do all sorts of things—visit Stark Industries, crash a Hollywood set, and generally mess around like a pair of invisible pranksters.
So yeah, she was already pretty good at it. After closing her eyes for just a few seconds, her Astral body separated from her physical one. I didn't waste time—I floated toward her vacant body and took it.
Even though this was my first time doing this, it didn't feel difficult at all. I just knew how. Must be a perk of being a goddess of death—having some kind of authority over souls.
As soon as I took over, her brain's memories began to flow into me. I don't know how exactly—it just felt like the natural course of things.
I could feel some kind of mental restrictions in place, but come on—seriously? Apparently, Jean hadn't been completely free.
Charles could reinforce her mental cage anytime he wanted. Unfortunately for him, I f*cked up that thing like wet paper.
Then something unexpected happened—my mental power spiked. Not just a little—a lot. To the point that I could sense every human thought on Earth.
And then it hit me. Jean's a mutant, and her powers are genetic. By using her body, I gained access to all of them. But unlike her, I had no mental blocks, no nerfs, no inner resistance.
This was what true Omega-level power felt like.
When I opened my eyes, a slow, creepy smile spread across my face.
I had never felt more alive than I did in that moment.
I originally assumed I'd only be able to access a fraction of my powers in Jean's body. You know, maybe a bit of death aura here, some soul whispering there—nothing major. But surprise! Instead of a downgrade, I got a goddamn buff.
Turns out, certain abilities—like my dominion over the dead, conjuring my blade, and the usual divine theatrics—aren't tied to my body so much as my existence.
They've been hard-coded into my very being, like morbid little startup programs that boot up no matter the hardware.
The downside? Jean's body doesn't come with the same cheat codes. I don't have infinite stamina, god-tier strength, or a metabolism of the Asgardian Goddess Of Death.
But magical energy? Oh, that I can still access directly from Hel, like a bottomless credit card linked to a very, very angry bank. So yeah—power-wise, I'm doing just fine.
As I settled into the body, I picked up on Bobby and Hank's thoughts (mental privacy is such a luxury these days), and from their stunned little brain whispers, I learned 'my appearance' had… changed.
New hair color, new eyes, even new lips. Apparently, I've upgraded Jean from 'girl next door' to 'ancient eldritch queen you dream about and wake up sweating.'
It didn't stop there.
From the loud, panicked thoughts of a certain Mr. Nick Fury—yes, that Nick Fury—I gleaned SHIELD's oh-so-brilliant Plan B.
Honestly, I was disappointed. I'd given them too much credit. So I decided, why not put my powers to better use?
Now, normally I have a personal policy against mind control. It's tacky. Violating. A bit too Voldemort for my taste.
But memory reading? Oh, that's just casual browsing. No harm in peeking into someone's mental photo album, right?
So, I hacked Fury's brain. Downloaded the whole thing straight into mine without so much as a mental hiccup. Fast, clean, and efficient—like pirating an entire hard drive through psychic Wi-Fi. No awkward questions, no messy conversations, and best of all, no paperwork.
In just over two seconds, I watched the movie of Fury's life—childhood trauma, espionage drama, and all the classified tidbits SHIELD doesn't even trust itself with. Honestly? Kind of mid.
I mean, I remember a version of Jean in the comics who casually absorbed Knull's mind—the guy who predates time, watched universes die and be born, and has every symbiote's history bouncing around in his skull.
She processed that in three seconds flat. Compared to that, Fury's life was a mildly interesting Netflix docuseries at best.
I was just about to turn my attention to Magneto when I felt something. A presence. A cloud—not metaphorical, mind you, an actual magical cloud—barreling from the direction of Mexico at speeds that screamed divine drama.
I didn't need to guess.
There are some things you just know in your bones, like how water is wet, or how Loki is always lying, or how Odin absolutely cannot let me have one moment of fun without interference.
So I smiled—wide, slow, teeth showing—and raised my voice, knowing full well that every satellite, every psychic, every terrified human on Earth was watching.
"ODINNNN!" I bellowed, arms outstretched conjuring a necrosword like a villainess in her final boss cutscene. "Your daughter has returned! I will bring the destruction of Asgard!"
Dramatic? Yes. Over-the-top? Absolutely.
But you have to admit—it was one hell of an entrance.
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Too much drama and all but yeah, hope you like it, we are now ranked number 3, I will uphold my promise and update the next chapter in a few minutes so, give me your Power Stonesssss!!
Honestly too lazy, wanted to split this and publish is as two chapters of 1.5k words and be done with my promise but who made me a perfectionist, so, gotta wait a moment for the bonus chapter and by the way, I published a 'side story' in the auxiliary chapter about Hela singing her current mood, it was fun. (Read this paragraph comment)