In truth, given Gorr the God Butcher's current level, he could easily kill a Sub-Father God, and even threaten gods who had just stepped into the God Father tier.But compared to the true middle and upper echelons of the divine hierarchy, he was still far behind.
His power came almost entirely from one thing—the Black Death Sword, whose god-slaying attribute distorted the balance of power itself.
At this moment, Leon stood as an undisputed First-Tier God within a single universe. His strength was already enough to confront weaker Multi-Universe Gods, those who ruled worlds but were not born warriors.
With such a gap in power, locating Gorr should have been simple.
Even if they never met directly, the remnant aura he left behind should have been traceable across the stars.
Yet, in the countless systems of the Milky Way—and even across the neighboring galaxies—there was nothing.
Not a whisper.Not a shadow.
It was as if Gorr had simply… been erased.
This anomaly could only mean one thing: interference.
Some higher being—or an ancient will—was shrouding him.A hidden god, a powerful life from another dimension, or a force that transcended cause and effect itself.
"Interesting," Leon murmured, eyes gleaming with a mix of caution and excitement. "Who could it be?"
A rare flicker of battle lust rose in his heart.
At his level, very few things could stir emotion anymore. Though he still maintained his human empathy and rationality, most crises in this age barely registered to him.
If a true force majeure arose, he could simply ascend beyond the main universe, travel to other planes, and wait it out.
Even something like Thanos's snap—that once-shocking moment when half of existence turned to dust—meant nothing to him or to the Sanctuary.
But now—someone had dared to reach into his game board.
A black hand had extended toward him.
Leon smiled faintly, the corner of his lips curving like a blade.
"Whoever stands behind you…" he whispered, "I'll be waiting."
His golden eyes flared.
A pulse of power rolled outward—terrifying, boundless. The very galaxy shuddered in response. Planets trembled. Oceans raged. Countless mortals across the stars fell to their knees, trembling as if the end of the world had arrived.
Then—silence.
Leon vanished.
When the divine pressure dissipated, the sky cleared again. Only then did the people below dare to lift their heads, shivering under the memory of that vast, incomprehensible presence.
Sky City, Sanctuary Headquarters.
Leon returned quietly, and the first person he sought was Ophelia.
He told her everything—about Gorr, the God-Slayer, and the Black Death Sword that devoured the essence of gods.
Ophelia, serene and sharp-minded, processed it swiftly. Her intellect rivaled that of the oldest deities. After learning of the cosmic implications, she frowned slightly.
"The Sanctuary," she said softly, "is standing in the light… while whoever controls Gorr hides in the dark."
"If someone is manipulating him, pushing his hatred toward us," she continued, pouring tea for Leon on the villa's open-air terrace, "then finding the puppet is meaningless. We need to find the puppeteer."
Leon nodded. "Gorr is a soul drowned in hatred. Every god he kills only deepens the curse. The more he slaughters, the less human he becomes. That sword—it's not just his weapon. It's his master."
"The Black Death Sword is the key."
Whether the figure he'd seen in his vision—standing upon the corpses of gods—was truly Gorr or another, one thing was certain: the sword was the same.
"Knull, the God of Symbiotes… the Black Death Sword… Gorr." Leon's tone was cold as iron.
Ophelia sipped her tea. "Asgard has already moved. Some of their soldiers vanished during missions—including Lady Sif."
Leon's brows furrowed. "A storm is coming, then."
"Do you think it's all connected?" she asked.
Leon smiled faintly. "Coincidences don't exist at our level."
Ophelia's expression grew thoughtful. "Still, we can't jump to conclusions. But if it truly isn't a coincidence, Odin won't sit idle for long."
Leon looked out over the horizon, where the sea met the clouds. "Keep an eye on Asgard. As for us… we stay our course. Power is the only truth."
He tapped his chest lightly. "As long as we grow stronger, no shadow can threaten us."
Ophelia nodded. "That's exactly why you're the God King."
He turned toward her, his gaze softening. "It's time I take the next step. I'll expand my Eighth Sense to the infinite, evolve my Aquarius Gold Cloth into its Divine Form, and push toward the Ninth Sense."
Ophelia's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I look forward to it. I know you'll reach it."
The sea breeze brushed against them. Sunlight glimmered across Leon's face, the play of shadow and light reflecting in Ophelia's eyes. She found herself unable to look away.
Meanwhile, far away on Earth—
At the Avengers Compound, the world's greatest heroes were gathered in the garden, seated around a circular table.
Fruit. Beer. Silence.
But today, there were guests—the X-Men.
At Natasha Romanoff's invitation, Cyclops, Storm, Beast, and Wolverine had joined them for a rare strategy meeting.
Tony Stark stood in front of several holographic panels, playing back scenes of their previous battle at Crystal Lake Camp—the night they fought the resurrecting killer, Jason.
"Now," Tony said, arms crossed, "take a good look."
The holograms replayed Jason's countless resurrections, his increasing power, and the sheer futility of trying to kill him.
Even the experienced X-Men looked shaken.
Storm frowned. "We've fought dimensional invaders before… but nothing like that."
She was calm but visibly disturbed. "At least those enemies could be contained. This thing—he just kept evolving."
Logan grunted, chewing on his cigar. "Can't kill what don't die."
He leaned back, unimpressed. But in truth, even Wolverine—the man who feared nothing—had no idea what he'd do against a monster like Jason.
Cyclops sighed. "Let's face it. Against beings like that, we're powerless. If the Sanctuary or Kamar-Taj hadn't contained these threats…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "The Earth wouldn't exist."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Everyone knew he was right.
Tony clenched his jaw. "We've been relying on others for too long. We need our own tools—technology to fight them."
Bruce Banner nodded. "We're scientists. It's our responsibility to adapt."
Across the table, Beast agreed. "If these creatures are manifestations of dark cosmic energy, then perhaps… we can counter them with engineered vibrational fields, or even synthetic divine resonance."
"English, please," Bucky muttered.
Tony smirked. "He means shiny new toys that might actually save your ass."
Despite the grim topic, a few chuckles broke the tension.
Then Natasha turned to Cyclops. "How's Jean?" she asked quietly.
The question darkened the atmosphere instantly.
Scott's jaw tightened. "She's… struggling."
"Because of the seal Wanda placed, she hasn't destroyed anything. But her Dark Phoenix personality still hates the Professor. That hatred… it festers."
He looked down, his voice heavy. "She's tried to kill him more than once."
Storm's eyes dimmed. "Jean's main self still resists, but it's getting weaker."
Logan flicked away his cigar, exhaling smoke. "She's fightin' it, but the fire's winning."
Scott nodded. "The Phoenix Force is too much for one soul. Even Wanda's suppression spell only caged it—it didn't cure it. The destructive will is still there, pushing her toward the edge."
"Jean wants to leave," he admitted softly. "She said if she stays, she'll hurt us all. She's even thought about… ending it—taking Dark Phoenix with her."
Silence fell once more.
The heroes of two teams—Avengers and X-Men—sat under the same sky, united by one dreadful truth.
The storm that was brewing was no longer just cosmic or divine.
It was human.
And the Dark Phoenix was stirring once again.
(End of Chapter)
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