X-Force: Beyond Omega
Ch: 159 [The Final Infinity Stone]

[Death's Realm – One Week Later]

The skies of Death's domain were eternally hushed. Time did not pass here in seconds or minutes, but in sensations, the brush of silk sheets, the taste of cold fire, the rhythm of breath shared between immortals. For seven long, indulgent days, Aron had known nothing but her in all her beauty. They had spoken little. Words were not necessary. Their language had been sex and hunger for more lust and pleasure.

Now, he stood at the threshold of her throne chamber, fully clothed once more, the heavy black mist that usually hung over the realm slowly receding behind him. Lady Death lay on the bed, covered in cum and sweat. She just got a nice facial a few minutes earlier. Her pussy and ass were dripping from cum. Her boobs were still slimy with cum. 

All in all, she was completely drenched in bodily fluids.

"You must go," she said, fingers tracing her cheek as she took a little bit of cum and sucked her finger. Then she continued. "There's still work left unfinished. Your domain still trembles with remnants."

Aron nodded, "The Darkhold."

Her expression tightened. "Chthon is no more, but his stain lingers. His book survives. So long as it does, he can be remembered... and through memory, he can return."

"I'll take care of it."

She rolled over and smiled. "I know you will. Just don't forget about me is all I ask."

"Never."

With a blink, space bent around him as the Space Stone pulsed at his side.

He vanished.

[Earth] [Kamar-Taj]

Aron appeared midair, a crackling ripple of blue light splitting the fabric of space just above the central courtyard. The peaceful hum of meditation was shattered as startled students scattered, yelling in alarm.

Aron landed lightly on the marble stone tiles in the middle of the courtyard.

Dozens of sorcerers immediately summoned magical constructs, spells at the ready. Rings spun with energy, whips of fire, and mirror shields poised to strike. Even the air began to bend as defensive enchantments triggered.

"Who the hell are you?!" one shouted.

"You dare trespass on sacred ground!"

"State your purpose. Or else..."

Before the sorcerer could finish his words, a wave of intense energy swept over the mountain.

"Or else... What?" Aron asked as he blinked before that guy. 

The marble beneath Aron's feet had barely cooled when the first sigils lit the sky.

A flare of golden energy spiraled above the courtyard. Magical chains whipped through the air, glowing with ancient runes, and shot straight toward him from every angle.

Aron didn't flinch.

The chains wrapped around him in a heartbeat, binding his arms, chest, and legs with crushing force. Dozens of sorcerers backed away, their hands raised, ready for follow-up spells.

From the far side of the courtyard, a portal opened.

Dr. Stephen Strange stepped through, his Cloak of Levitation billowing behind him, eyes locked on Aron. His expression was focused, unreadable.

"I don't know what you are," Strange said, "but that energy we felt… it didn't belong to this realm. Identify yourself and your intentions. Now."

Aron tilted his head slightly, still bound. "You should've asked first. Then tried the chains."

Strange narrowed his eyes. "You arrived like a bomb going off in reality. I won't apologize for caution."

"And I won't apologize for this."

Aron's eyes flashed.

The chains froze instantly.

Literally froze.

A blast of sub-zero energy erupted from his skin, coating the magical restraints in thick crystal frost. A split second later, red energy surged through the ice, and with a deafening crack, the chains shattered.

"You can freeze magic?!" Dr. Strange was surprised.

A beam of pure optic force exploded from Aron's eyes, aimed at Strange. But he instantly opened a portal, redirecting the attack back to him. However, Aron simply absorbed it back.

Dr. Strange was on the move. He made a fast hand sign to summon the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. They lashed out like serpents, glowing with pulsing crimson light.

Aron didn't dodge.

He extended his palm, and a barrier of pure telekinetic force shimmered to life in front of him. The bands hit it and skidded, grinding against the invisible wall before bursting into harmless motes of red.

Strange scowled. "Telekinesis of that level?!"

"Among other things."

Aron leapt forward.

Lightning erupted around his fists.

He punched the ground.

A shockwave of raw electricity cracked outward, stunning half the courtyard and shorting out multiple magical defenses.

Strange created a spinning disk of light and hurled it like a blade. Aron dodged, flipping over it, then launched himself into the air. He gathered fire around his right hand, forming a sphere the size of a car.

He threw it.

Strange opened a portal to redirect it, but Aron was already there.

He blinked behind the Sorcerer Supreme, grabbed his cloak mid-spin, and flung him into the courtyard wall with a burst of concussive energy from his palm.

Dust exploded into the air.

Aron landed calmly, watching as Strange emerged from the rubble, bruised but still standing. The cloak pulled him back upright, and his hands were already forming new spells.

Aron raised a hand, palm open.

A column of raw kinetic force blasted forward, ripping the tiles free from the floor as it surged toward Strange.

Strange countered with a time-slowing field.

For a second, everything slowed.

But Aron simply walked through it.

"Time tricks don't work on me," he said, grabbing Strange's wrist mid-cast and hurling him backward again. 'Dang! Such weak power. He doesn't even know how to bring the full potential of his own magic. Sad.'

Strange skidded, breathing hard now, sweat on his brow. "Multiple power. Godly energy. Time doesn't work on you. Aron. The host of the Immortal Phoenix."

"Tsk," Aron clicked his tongue. "I was hoping for a good fight. But oh, well... Give me the Darkhold. I'll destroy it."

The sorcerers surrounding them gasped.

Strange froze.

"You want to destroy it? But it is impossible. The original Darkhold can not be destroyed by normal means. Even if it's you."

"Chthon is dead," Aron said. "But the book remembers him. And memory is power. I'm not leaving until the last thread of that god is burned."

Strange didn't lower his guard, but he hesitated. His breathing slowed. The energy in his palms faded just slightly.

"You killed Chthon?"

"Yes. And I don't plan on letting his ghost haunt this realm again."

Silence.

Strange released his magic and raised his hand to signal the others to stand down.

"You could've just said that," he said.

"And miss the fun to see how strong you are?"

The wind shifted.

Before anyone could speak further, the air shimmered. A golden circle crackled in the air as a portal opened.

A bald woman in flowing saffron and deep orange robes stepped out. She looked as calm as moonlight, yet carrying the weight of countless centuries in her gaze. Aron could sense her power, both dark and light.

The Ancient One.

In her hands, she held something old. Something forbidden. Bound tightly in layered sigils, glowing with containment runes forged in dimensions most sorcerers couldn't even name.

The Darkhold.

Gasps rippled through the gathered mystics.

Dr. Strange stepped forward, alarm tightening his face. "Master…? That book?!"

"I have seen the end," she said simply, her voice like still water. "And I have seen him standing at it."

Her eyes met Aron's.

"You," she said, walking slowly toward him, "are not here by chance. Not summoned by coincidence. You are the convergence."

She extended the Darkhold toward him. "This book must be erased from existence… and only you have the power to truly erase memory itself. Free us from this eternal duty."

Aron accepted it, his hand closing around the glowing chains. The moment his skin touched the book, the entire courtyard dimmed as a wisp of cold wind swept over the area. The book still contains a wisp of Chthon, and it could sense its end.

Strange's voice was taut. "You're… giving it to him? The Darkhold is dangerous enough in chains. But him? He's carrying everything. The Phoenix. Space. Reality. And now the book? Isn't it… too much?"

The Ancient One turned to him slowly.

"You misunderstand your own role, Stephen," she said gently. "You protect the balance of this realm. But he is meant to transcend it."

And then, she pulled something else from the folds of her robe.

A glowing green amulet.

The Eye of Agamotto.

The Time Stone pulsed inside it, still sealed in the ancient container, alive and impossibly heavy with reality.

Strange took an instinctive step forward. "But… that's my charge. As Sorcerer Supreme, I'm supposed to protect..."

"Protect something and keep something... Both are different things. You were never meant to keep it forever," the Ancient One interrupted. "That was your test, Stephen. And you have passed it." She looked back at Aron. "But he? He is the trial. And he will bear the burden of all the Infinity Stones, not as a collector of power… but as its keeper."

She handed the Eye of Agamotto to Aron.

Aron took it. 

The moment his fingers wrapped around it, the Stone inside the Eye glowed with a deep emerald hue. 

The courtyard fell completely silent.

Even Strange could feel it: the Time Stone had chosen.

The Ancient One spoke again, her voice calm but unwavering.

"Each Stone recognizes him. Each one bends. Not to his will… but to his resolve."

Strange stepped back, letting out a slow breath. "Then he's… he's meant to wield all six."

"Not meant," the Ancient One said quietly. "Destined."

Aron didn't waste any time and began to absorb the power of the Time Stone...