Magical Marvel (HP X MCU) - Chapter 376: Infinite
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I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people’s opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.
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Chapter 376: Infinite
Unknown Time, Unknown Space
I am looking at the immense kaleidoscope of realities in front of me while fully understanding what I am seeing for the first time. My mind comprehends what happened. The past, present, and future, are all coalescing into a single moment, like a video tape that I can rewind and see.
My perception expanded, embracing the boundless tapestry of existence that stretched infinitely in all directions. It’s a unique sensation, the touch of every thread, every story, every life dancing upon my consciousness.
With a mere thought, I traverse the realms beyond time’s grasp. My powers are not confined by the limitations of past, present, or future. Time is a tapestry I weave and unweave with the mere flutter of an eyelash, a dance I choreograph with the flick of a finger. The boundaries that mortals perceive—yesterday, today, and tomorrow—are but illusions to me. I navigate the currents of existence with ease, for I am the fulcrum upon which the pendulum swings.
And so, I found myself suspended in the interstitial spaces, a silent observer of the cosmic ballet. Stars ignited in the velvet expanse, galaxies spun like celestial pinwheels, and planets danced in the rhythm of their own gravitational waltzes. My senses drank in the symphony of creation, each note resonating through the infinite cosmos.
I don’t know why I chose to look at this specific universe. Maybe it was just out of nostalgia. It doesn’t matter; I don’t have to be logical anymore. I don’t need to prove anything. I just am.
As I enter the universe at the centre of the multiverse, I create a body construct in the void of space and choose to admire the miracle of creation. My form is arbitrary, a reflection of the perceptions of those who encounter me. Yet, I’ve always chosen to retain my distinctively vivid green eyes. This time, I chose to wear my cloak around my shoulders, with my hood up, hiding my somewhat human appearance. I think I like this form. It’s intimidating enough that no one would dismiss me, but not too monstrous and mind-provoking which would often drive three-dimensional beings into madness.
I look at the stars. They’re so far away, yet to me it seems like they’re right next to me. When I see them, I do not see the small blips of gas, heat, and light, but them being the source of all life, of all creation. I couldn’t help but marvel at the fragile intricacies that made it possible—the delicate interplay of forces, the intricate choreography of particles, the cosmic ballet of cause and effect. It was a testament to the exquisite artistry of creation, a canvas painted with the hues of the infinite.
Just like me. Just like my very nature.
It’s the last day of July in 1980, and Jasmine Potter was born. She was a cheerful baby, who was attached to her brother. I see Tom Riddle, the boy who tried to flee me in pieces, walk up the stairs. He’s so angry, so hateful, unaware of just how useless all that fear, all that anger, and all that hate, truly are. Nothing would ever stop me from collecting him at the end. After all, I am not bound by time, nor am I bound by space.
You would think that he should disgust me, but all I feel is pity, for the man has doomed his soul to limbo until it is recycled once more. Normally, I would have just killed him out of irritation for messing up my system, but he is necessary. He is needed, and I let him come up the stairs.
I see him hitting the girl with a killing curse, which will rebound on him. I decide to let it hit her because it is necessary. The curse should have killed the girl; its energy had to go somewhere. I used it to split her soul into two, one that remained in her body, and another which had most of the trauma from the spell, that I stuck in a simulated life, enjoying watching other universes as movies or reading about them as books. I made it just for her, to live, to grow, and to learn. She needs the information if she is to fulfil her destiny. I wait for it while it recovers from the trauma.
It is the twentieth of March 1987. The small soul fragment in the simulation has recovered. She thinks she lived an entirely different life. In a way, she did. The soul inside Jasmine Potter’s body knows nothing but pain and suffering. It is intelligent for a mortal child, but not really anything to write about. Such a small thing, for such an immense destiny.
When the girl is unconscious from an accident, I put the second piece of her soul back into her body, knowing that they would merge eventually.
It takes two years for that to happen, a blink of an eye for something like me.
It is the fifth of April 1775. The Morrigan had just wiped out an entire clan of vampires that developed a plague that could have wiped out the entirety of humanity. I put a small runic array in her mind without her noticing. It will start as an idea and prosper into something more. It will only work a single time; at the exact moment it is destined to be used.
It is the twenty-seventh of August 1989, Jasmine Potter touches a Wadjet eye, with that specific runic array that I gave the Morrigan. I had an agreement with Time to let her go back to her own timeline.
I asked Destiny to write her a story, a book filled with adventures and tests, a book to temper her towards her own destiny. He agrees and I can tell that she is suffering.
It is 3729 BC, and I could feel some mortals try to summon me. I could have ignored it, but I knew that it was important. It was necessary. I let a fragment of a fragment of myself answer the summons, knowing that anything more would disturb the delicate balance of the universe. I let it play my role, like a play with strings. On that day, Atlantis sinks and I gain a new servant. My only servant.
It is 823 BC, the Morrigan is calling herself Medusa now. She uses the Soul Stone to create a realm for the survivors of Atlantis, allowing the Olympians to ascend. I could have stopped her and destroyed the entire realm with a wave of my hand. It wouldn’t have taken much for me to do it. They all forget that even gods could die, that they are not safe from my wrath. They’re lucky that I am not capable of such an emotion, not anymore.
I let Olympus rise but take away the Soul Stone. It’s just a trinket to me, really, but it achieved its purpose. The Morrigan’s soul has mutated, and grown into something fundamentally inhuman, capable of growth and change. I put it on Vormir, where it should have been anyway, to be later retrieved by the Mad Titan.
It’s the third of July 2017. Wanda Maximoff completes her ritual to return to the past and save her mother. Her soul is almost entirely beholden to the Darkhold in her desperation to see her mother again, the only woman who had ever loved her. She is unaware that she has a passenger.
Her ritual shouldn’t have worked. Chthon is an Elder God of creation, a multidimensional fearsome creature that is connected to countless universes. But it is not a Cosmic Entity. It might as well be a speck of dust to me.
It’s the second of March 2006. I watch as the Morrigan mourns a corrupted version of her daughter as she is erased from the universe to correct the timeline. I ask Time and Destiny to lock up that universe specifically, allowing no one to peer into the future or change it. Too much is at stake. The Morrigan must complete her destiny.
Three months later, I see the Morrigan meet her fated enemy, Entropy. She loses badly and is banished to another dimension. Destiny had written it down and the ink was dry. It was the only way that she would survive the fight, something that was necessary for her destiny.
Entropy is a weakling of a cosmic entity, and he knew it. We do not measure our power using the energy that we can output but through the strength of our concepts.
He was born as the first big bang in the first universe occurred and he was different because of the fact that he was bound by time. He should have been connected to another entity as a way of stabilizing it, but I told them all not to. I had plans for it. Plans that are coming to fruition now.
But the main issue is that he is paradoxical to his own nature, and he doesn’t have anything to compensate for. In a reality of complete Entropy, the concept itself cannot exist there. As such, I often reap universes when they almost reach such inevitability. I do it to avoid this entity going mad as he realizes the contradictory nature of his existence.
When he leaves with the mad purpose of destroying the multiverse, I let him.
As the final battle nears, I pull a few strings. I put the ritual to ascend using Ego’s seed in her head as a final resort and arranged for her to be desperate enough to perform it, knowing that the essence inside her would spread and slowly take away her mortality.
I manipulate Selene and Rose into betraying her, pushing her further and further towards her inevitable ascension. Hundreds of thousands of little things put together, small pushes, small things that would be impossible in the eyes of any mortal, slowly edge the whole thing towards my desired outcome.
It is the third of March 2013 and the Morrigan has banished both her sister and her wife, dooming her humanity in the process.
It is the twenty-fourth of March 2015 and my champion is trying to tie her soul to the realm she had created long ago, seeking comfort in the familiarity of an old love. I know the exact words to kill her defiance, to destroy the hope she has left.
Some might call it monstrous, but that word doesn’t mean anything to something like me.
I call it inevitable.
It is the twenty-sixth of April 2015. On the remnants of a world that prospered once, Entropy and the Morrigan battle. Soon after the battle starts, the Celestial Hybrid is dead, but the Avatar of Dream survives with an illusion and a dream. I did help slightly, after all, Dream wouldn’t like his only champion perishing so quickly.
As the Morrigan’s wife sacrifices herself for her sake, the final anchor is finished. She is ready.
I watch as she tricks Entropy into transporting them into the Quantum Realm. Most Cosmic entities are aware of this realm but aren’t interested in it. It is a realm of Chaos, and most concepts like Entropy don’t exist there.
I watch as the Morrigan slowly stores her opponent’s power in her soul, unaware of the consequences of her decision. Her heart was shattered, her soul broken enough that she would absorb anything to mend it, the nature of her soul allowed her to absorb far more than any other soul could manage. The restrictions on all souls do not exist in hers, allowing her to take more than she probably should.
But she didn’t care. Her only purpose was to kill her opponent, to make him hurt.
I am not surprised. After all, I made her that way.
When Entropy finally fades into nothing. She finally understands that something is wrong for a fraction of a second and feels fear for the last time.
A token funeral is held days later. There is nothing to bury. No one even knows what happened, only that the multiverse hasn’t ended.
Slowly people forget and the world moves on. The Morrigan’s cursed existence fades from everyone’s mind.
No one knows what happened to her.
No one understands what she became. They couldn’t even if I had told them.
No one but me. After all, I used to be her once.
Her soul was shredded, something that never happened before. Something that will not happen again, and from the ashes, I was born.
For I am the personification of the End.
For I am Death, the Destroyer of Worlds.
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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people’s opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.
