Marvel: The Awakened One

Dawn broke over Kamar-Taj’s grand circular courtyard.

The apprentices had already assembled for their morning drills, standing on flagstones carved with ancient runes. Some cheered as sparks finally coalesced into functioning portals. Others slumped in frustration as their spells fizzled out—again—before steeling themselves and trying once more.

Gwen stood in the library’s corridor, chin resting on her palm, watching the scene below.

After Hawk’s explanation about the true cost of magic, her fascination had cooled considerably.

Well—not entirely.

She still thought it looked incredible.

But trading her soul for party tricks? Becoming a hostage someone could use against Hawk?

Yeah, no. Hard pass.

’No matter what, I won’t be dead weight.’

But still… was it really that hard? It was just drawing a circle, right? How could they fail so many times?

Gwen watched one of the apprentices fail again, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. Then her thoughts turned back to Hawk. She looked at the closed doors of the library, a trace of worry in her eyes.

Hawk had been in there for over a day.

Just then, the library doors opened.

Gwen’s eyes lit up.

The next second, her hope faded as she saw the stoic, unsmiling face of Wong emerge. She offered him a polite greeting.

”Morning, Wong.”

”Good morning.”

Wong nodded, glanced back at the library, then seemed about to tell her Hawk would be a while longer when his gaze shifted past her shoulder.

His posture straightened.

”Sorcerer Supreme.”

Gwen followed his gaze and saw the Ancient One, who had appeared behind her without a sound. She composed herself. ”Sorcerer Supreme, when will Hawk be out?”

The Ancient One didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gave Wong a small nod.

He took the hint and left.

Only then did the Ancient One move to stand beside Gwen at the railing, her gaze settling on the apprentices below—as if she could see straight through them, into futures not yet written.

”He’ll come out when he’s ready.”

Gwen’s mouth twitched in an expression she’d definitely picked up from Hawk.

’That’s... not helpful.’

But she didn’t argue. Just took a breath.

”Okay.”

”If you’re bored,” the Ancient One said, ”you’re welcome to study some of our techniques.”

”No, no.” Gwen waved her hands. ”It looks way too complicated. I’d never get it.”

The Ancient One glanced at her, a faint smile touching her lips.

”For you? With your intellect? You’d master it easily.”

”Still no. But thank you.”

The Ancient One let it drop. After a pause, she shifted gears. ”Would you like some tea? Hawk will be a while yet.”

Gwen looked back at the silent library doors, hesitated, then nodded.

”Sure. I’d like that.”

...

Inside the Library.

Within the Vishanti Chamber, Hawk floated cross-legged in midair, the Eye of Agamotto hovering between his palms. Green light pulsed in steady waves, bathing the stone walls in temporal glow.

Time was strange. Fast and slow at once. But when you are immersed in it, the concept of duration lost all meaning.

Inside his Cosmo, Hawk’s perception had collapsed into a single infinite moment.

And in that moment—

The Underworld was born.

Structures rose from nothingness in the space between breaths. Massive, oppressive, suffocating in their scale. Palaces and fortresses materialized across the barren expanse, their foundations sinking deep into the newly solidified bedrock.

At the same time, the laws of life and death—still raw, still settling—spread outward from the Underworld’s core like ripples in black water. They seeped into every corner of his Cosmo, weaving themselves into the fabric of his inner universe.

When his Cosmo finally manifested in the physical world, when stars gave birth to life, every soul that died would pass through this place.

But for now? No life existed. His universe was still a desolate place. Lifeless. Cold.

Just like the Underworld itself.

At the Underworld’s only entrance stood a gate—towering, crystalline, metallic, unsettling in its beauty. Beyond it stretched a vast and desolate plain of black sand and jagged stone. The sky above was choked with ash-dark clouds that never moved.

At the plain’s edge: a cliff.

Below the cliff: a river of malevolent energy.

Its banks were lined with black reeds and twisted, skeletal trees. And far downstream, barely visible through the gloom, rose the true heart of the Underworld—a sprawling complex of temples, halls, and dungeons.

Souls would leap—or be thrown—from the cliff into the river. The current would carry them to judgment.

To the Court of Judgment.

To the Eight Prisons.

To the Elysian Fields.

Everything a proper afterlife required.

Hawk, treating this like some cosmic Minecraft session, threw himself into the work with gleeful focus. Using the Reality Stone’s power, he sculpted every detail with painstaking care.

And when he finally finished building the Underworld King Palace—a perfect one-to-one replica placed at the center of Elysium—the satisfaction was almost overwhelming.

The moment he stepped into the throne room, the Dark Phoenix stirred.

WHOOSH.

The spectral firebird exploded from his soul and merged with the palace itself.

Its burning black form etched itself into the floor. Its wings became reliefs carved into the pillars. Its head fused with the throne at the center of the dias, its twin eyes transforming into obsidian gems set into the armrests.

Hawk felt the shift immediately. He looked up.

High above, suspended within the cathedral-like vastness of the throne room, black flames roared—and within those flames, something began to take shape. Countless Underworld Gems, melted and fused together. He could see it forming:

A suit of armor, both crystalline and metallic, forged in the fire.

As Hawk watched the Black Phoenix Surplice take shape, an image of Mephisto flashed in his mind.

’Mephisto!’

’I hope you like my gift.’

The corners of Hawk’s mouth lifted. The next second, he opened his eyes.

...

The instant his consciousness returned to the physical world, the stone faces of the Vishanti glowed with power.

The Eye of Agamotto snapped shut, wrenched from Hawk’s grasp by invisible force, and returned to its pedestal.

Hawk raised an eyebrow and looked up at the three stone heads.

Eight eyes met his gaze.

”Stingy bastards. No wonder it takes three of you to run one dimension.”

Silence.

”Tell you what—how about a deal? Give me the Time Stone, and when my universe is born, I’ll let you set up shop there. Exclusive access. Prime real estate.”

The stone faces remained silent.

Hawk didn’t press. Even after his Phoenix Universe was born, it would still be a fledgling cosmos—a single-universe construct, not a multiversal empire like the Marvel Multiverse.

The Vishanti’s power stretched across the entire multiverse.

Why would they abandon that to become minor gods in some upstart parallel dimension?

They weren’t idiots.

Hawk respected their choice. With a silent release of his Sixth Sense, he vanished from the chamber.

...

When he reappeared, it was in the open courtyard.

Gwen was sitting with the Ancient One, the two of them deep in conversation, looking like old friends.

The Ancient One noticed him first. She stopped mid-sentence.

Gwen, noticing her silence, turned and saw him. A look of joy spread across her face. She shot up, ran to him, and threw her arms around him. ”Do you know how long you were gone?”

Hawk nodded. ”Two days.”

He’d known the moment he left the Time Stone’s influence. The sensation of reconnecting with linear time had been... jarring.

But worth it.

In two days, he’d compressed centuries of development. He’d pushed his Cosmo to its current limit and birthed an Underworld that should have taken millennia to form.

But a fair trade or not, he still owed Gwen an apology. He looked at her, his expression serious.

”I’m sorry.”

”You’re forgiven.” Gwen’s worries had vanished the moment he appeared. She smiled brightly.

Hawk pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and then looked at the Ancient One and bid her farewell.

His business in Kamar-Taj was finished.

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