Marvel's Green Lantern SI (MarvelxDC)

“Wow. You guys are really taking this well.”

Max leaned farther back into the couch and looked from one face to the next, still waiting for someone to react with the appropriate amount of disbelief.

They had settled on one of the broad balconies of Kamar-Taj. Max had created the furniture himself. Four deep couches surrounded a low table covered with food, several pitchers, and enough Asgardian mead to keep Odin happy.

Odin, Nur, and Agamotto had spent the better part of the last hour listening while Max explained his origins.

The full truth was something Max had decided long ago would remain his own, and he saw no reason to change that now. Only Adara knew of his true origins. The other Emotional Entities might know as well, though Max had never been entirely certain how much they understood.

Instead, Max had given them what was essentially the Oan account of Ion’s history.

He told them of a being billions of years old who had wandered the universe, worked alongside Galactus, eventually became an Elder of the Universe, and later joined with Veridion to build Oa and create the Green Lantern Corps. He explained the Blackest Night, Knull’s invasion, the devastation of Oa, and the injuries that had left him inside the Central Power Battery for half a million years.

That was where he connected the story to his real arrival in this universe.

He told them that he had eventually awakened after the Blackest Night with almost no memory of who he had once been. He had met Odin, begun travelling with him, and gone through all their adventures together. Only after everything that had happened around the God Quarry and the Source had the rest of his memories finally returned.

It was a lie.

A large one.

But it was also considerably easier than explaining that he had once been a man from another reality.

Max looked around again.

Not one of them appeared particularly shocked.

“You know, I expected more of a reaction.”

Odin laughed into his cup. “Grænlaðr, come now. Have I not said from the moment we met that you were some powerful god who had forgotten what he was?” Odin took another drink and leaned comfortably into the couch. “Then there was that business with my father. He named you an Elder of the Universe. After that, I was quite certain there was more to you than you admitted.”

Odin’s grin widened.

“And to think you spent years making fun of me for being a prince while you had already created your own people, planets, and some great universal army.”

“It is not an army. It’s a peacekeeping force.”

Odin nodded solemnly and took another drink.

“It’s an army.”

Max looked toward Agamotto for support.

Agamotto merely smiled.

“And neither of you finds any of this remotely surprising?”

Nur shrugged. “Less surprising than you appear to expect.”

“Why?”

Nur and Agamotto exchanged a look.

“What?”

Nur looked away.

Agamotto sighed.

“Someone told us.”

Max sat forward.

“What? Who told you?”

Nur hesitated, his eyes briefly moving toward Agamotto.

“Thor,” Agamotto said.

Max stared at him.

“Thor told you about my origins?”

Odin suddenly snapped his fingers, frowning as he dug through the memory.

“It was not my son who told us first. It was the girl.”

Max’s attention sharpened.

“What girl?”

Odin waved one hand vaguely. “What was her name? Alftif? Aldrif?” (AN: Aldrif was the fake name given by Clea)

“Yes,” Nur said far too quickly. “Aldrif. That was her name.”

Max slowly looked toward him.

Nur stared straight ahead.

“Aldrif,” Max repeated.

Thor and that girl had come from the future. Maybe they knew more about him than he had realised.

He returned his attention to Odin, who was still trying to remember exactly what had happened.

“She was betrothed to Thor, I believe.”

Max blinked.

“Really?”

“Aye i think so.”

Odin continued. “She explained the Source much as you did. Said the being we knew as you was not your complete existence.” Odin gestured toward him with his cup. “Your true form resides within the Source. She said there were six others like you, each tied to some great force of emotion, and that what we see here is merely an avatar. A portion of the greater being projected into this universe.”

Max stared at them for a moment before laughing.

“So I spent the last hour carefully explaining something you already knew.”

“Not all of it,” Nur said. “I never fully understood what she meant.”

Agamotto nodded. “Nor did I. The Source remains mysterious even to me. I have tried many times to peer into that realm, hoping I might find some sign of you there.”

Nur leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“What interests me more is Oa.”

He looked directly at Max.

“I wish to see it.”

“You would love Oa. You really would.”

Max pointed toward Agamotto next.

“You would probably disappear into Chronicle and refuse to leave.”

Agamotto’s expression immediately became interested. “The archive world you mentioned?”

“Every surviving record the Corps ever collected, copied, recovered, purchased, or rescued from civilizations across the universe.”

Max turned toward Odin.

“And you would love Sanctuary.”

Odin raised a brow.

“Lots of animals. Entire ecosystems preserved from across the universe, including species that are extinct everywhere else.”

Odin stood immediately.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

He drained what remained in his cup.

“You have spent an hour telling me about this realm of yours. I would see it.”

Agamotto looked toward him. “Did you not sneak away from a victory feast in Asgard?”

Odin dismissed that with one hand.

“Fuck the feast.”

Max laughed.

“The Crown Prince disappearing immediately after winning a war may be noticed.”

“They have mead. They will survive.”

Odin reached for Mjolnir.

“Come, then. Show me these beasts, this Oa, and your great peacekeeping army.”

Max was about to stand when Agamotto spoke again. “Perhaps Oa can wait a little longer.”

Everyone looked toward him. Agamotto’s expression had softened. “We should go to Okkara first.”

The amusement left Max.

“Okkara.”

Nur became quiet as well.

Agamotto nodded. “We built a memorial there.”

Max looked toward him.

“For you,” Agamotto continued, “and Vnn, Firehair, Aurora, and Ghost.”

The mountain breeze moved gently across the balcony.

Max said nothing.

“Okkara himself would wish to know you have returned,” Agamotto continued.

After a moment, Max nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s go to Okkara first.”

He stood and raised one hand.

Emerald light spread across the balcony, gathering into the shape of a vehicle. A large, open-topped touring car materialized in front of them, polished black from bumper to bumper, complete with comfortable seats and enough room for everyone.

Nur and Agamotto climbed into the back while Odin rode up front beside Max.

Soon enough, the car descended through the clouds toward Okkara.

Much had changed.

Max slowed the construct as they passed over the island, taking in the landscape below. Before long, they reached Avengers Mountain, where Max and Firehair had once built a home for themselves.

It had been destroyed during the battle with Doom and the Dark Phoenix, so Max was surprised to see it standing once again, fully rebuilt against the mountainside.

Their home had once been built into its side.

“Okkara rebuilt it,” Agamotto said.

Max guided the construct toward the clearing below and set it down gently. The instant he stepped onto the ground, he felt the island notice him.

The earth shifted beneath his boots. Roots moved beneath the soil, and the ground split open, not violently, but almost as though the island itself were breathing. Stone and earth parted as a tall figure rose from within, forming from soil, roots, and living rock until Okkara stood before them.

His attention settled immediately on Max.

“Max?”

The surprise in his voice quickly gave way to something much warmer.

Okkara stepped forward.

“How is this possible?”

Max smiled.

“It’s good to see you too, my friend.”

Okkara reached him and gripped his shoulders, staring at Max’s face as though expecting the image to vanish if he looked away. Then he pulled him into a powerful embrace.

Max returned it.

When Okkara finally stepped back, hope had already appeared in his expression.

“Then does this mean Lady Firehair…”

He stopped.

“Aurora?”

Max shook his head.

The hope vanished.

Okkara lowered his gaze.

“I am sorry.”

Max nodded once.

The ancient living island seemed to struggle for a response before settling on something simpler.

“Come.”

He looked toward the others.

“It has been too long since I had visitors.”

Nur frowned. “I visited last year.”

Okkara looked at him.

“A long time.”

Nur glanced toward Max. “He gets worse with age.”

Okkara ignored him and led them toward the house.

Inside, Max found more ghosts than he expected. Too many memories from before everything had gone to shit. They remained there for some time before Agamotto eventually came to find him.

“There is something you should see.”

Max followed him outside, with Odin and Nur joining them.

Near the base of the mountain stood a collection of statues.

Max stopped.

Vnn.

Ghost.

Azzuri.

Fan.

Firehair.

And in Firehair’s arms was Aurora.

Max stared at his daughter’s face.

Something inside him rejected the memorial immediately.

Firehair was different. He had accepted that she was gone, however painful that truth remained.

Aurora was no..no.

“No.”

Odin looked toward him.

Max stepped closer to the statue.

“Aurora is alive.”

The words came without hesitation.

Odin studied him for a moment.

“So you say, my friend.”

Max looked back at him.

Odin’s expression became more thoughtful. “Is that why you took the Reality Stone?”

Nur turned toward them.

“The what?”

Odin continued before Max could answer.

“I saw the emerald beings take it.”

Nur looked between them. “What in the hell is a Reality Stone?”

Max looked toward Odin.

“Yes. That’s part of it.”

Odin crossed his arms.

“Good.”

He looked toward the statues again. “It is said that all the Infinity Stones together can accomplish anything.”

“What are Infinity Stones?” Nur asked.

Max rubbed his forehead as he spoke ignoring Nur.

“I don’t need all six.”

Odin frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not allowed to have all of them.”

Agamotto immediately understood.

“Ah. The Living Tribunal.”

Max nodded.

They remained at the memorial for a while longer before eventually returning to the house.

A few hours passed before Max decided it was time to leave.

Emerald light expanded around the group. The construct that formed around them was much larger this time. Instead of another car, Max created an entire starship, its interior taking shape around them as engines of green light came alive.

Within moments, Okkara fell away beneath them, followed soon after by Earth itself.

They were headed for Oa.

The Reality Stone was already waiting there. And with it, perhaps Max’s first real attempt at bringing his daughter back.

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Umar felt her brother arrive before any servant thought to announce him. Her eyes opened from meditation, purple light briefly passing through them before she rose from the floor and smoothed one hand over the dark fabric of her robes.

Dormammu had always possessed the irritating talent of arriving precisely when Umar had begun enjoying her solitude.

She left the meditation chamber without calling for attendants.

There had been a time when the two of them were almost inseparable. After the ghastly affair that ended with their father dead and both siblings driven from the Faltine realm that had birthed them, Umar and Dormammu had wandered together through realities that regarded beings like them with suspicion at best and terror at worst. Eventually, they discovered the Dark Dimension, and where lesser creatures might have seen exile, Umar and her brother had seen opportunity.

The Dark Dimension had not been empty when they arrived.

Its ruling class had been the Mhuruuks, a collection of sorcerous peoples. Power belonged to those who mastered magic, and none had possessed more political authority than Olnar the First, the Wizard-King.

Olnar had wanted conquest. Dormammu and Umar had merely helped him discover how much of it he desired.

They befriended the king, praised his ambitions, and introduced him to methods of breaching other dimensions. Umar still remembered Olnar’s expression the first time they showed him how a conquered realm could be bound mystically to his own, its land, resources, and magical energies incorporated into the Dark Dimension itself.

After that, greed did most of their work for them. Olnar conquered one dimension, then another. Each victory made the next easier to justify, and soon he had convinced himself that expansion was not merely his right but his destiny.

Naturally, Umar and Dormammu encouraged him.

They also encouraged his final mistake.

Olnar shattered the barrier separating his domain from the realm of the Mindless Ones.

He had believed they might be controlled.

The creatures poured through in numbers no Mhuruuk army had anticipated, soulless engines of destruction that tore through soldiers and sorcerers with equal enthusiasm. The Mhuruuks fought desperately, but their losses were catastrophic, and Olnar himself died during the onslaught.

Afterward, Dormammu and Umar did what any sensible survivors with sufficient power would have done.

They took everything.

Any wizard capable of challenging them was slain, broken, bought, or exiled. The surviving Mindless Ones were forced behind a great mystical barrier, and the siblings who had arrived as refugees became rulers of the Dark Dimension.

For a time, they ruled together.

Then ambition did what ambition always did.

Umar smiled faintly at the thought as she entered the long corridor leading toward the western hall.

She found Dormammu approaching from the opposite direction.

He wore his true Faltine form.

Even after all these years, Umar disliked seeing it. She disliked it because it reminded her of something she had lost. Dormammu remained capable of shedding physical limitation and returning fully to the blazing energy of their people.

Umar could not.

Not anymore.

The reasons were irritating enough that she preferred not to examine them often. A disastrous battle had weakened her, and her later tryst with Olnar’s son had altered her further.

That weakness had given Dormammu the advantage he needed. Her brother had become ruler. Umar had become subordinate. Temporarily, as far as she was concerned.

Dormammu’s burning gaze settled upon her as he approached.

“Umar, my sister.”

“Dormammu,” she replied. “How touching. You remembered I existed.”

His flames flared with what she recognized as amusement.

“I assume you know why I have come.”

“The resurgent Mhuruuks?”

“What else?”

Umar folded her hands loosely before herself. “I had hoped you were finally going to apologize for your personality, but I suppose we cannot expect miracles.”

Dormammu laughed.

They began walking together through the corridor, guards and servants quickly removing themselves from the path of the two Faltine rulers.

“The Mhuruuks have become dangerous,” Dormammu said. “More organized than before.”

“Truly?”

Dormammu looked toward her.

Umar’s smile sharpened. “You say they threaten our power. I was under the impression we were rivals, constantly planning one another’s downfall.”

“One may resent a sibling and still object when strangers attempt to kill them.”

“How sentimental.”

“You would be furious if someone else destroyed me.”

“Naturally. That privilege is mine.”

Dormammu laughed again. Umar had always appreciated that quality in him. He understood a threat given with affection.

“How have you been, sister?”

“Well enough.”

Dormammu’s flames rippled.

“And how is your husband?”

Umar stopped walking.

She slowly turned her head.

Dormammu’s laughter began before she answered.

“Do not call him that.”

“Is he not?”

“He may call himself Emperor of every star in creation if it helps him sleep. It does not make the title accurate.”

“He misses you dearly.”

“How tragic.”

Umar resumed walking, and Dormammu fell into step beside her.

“I have told him repeatedly that whatever arrangement once existed between us is finished. He remains determined to mistake persistence for charm.”

“You did choose him.”

“I made an error.”

Dormammu’s amusement deepened.

Umar sighed. “I was foolish enough to believe he might keep pace with me. For a brief while, he almost did. In every way that mattered, however, he proved a weakling.”

Dormammu glanced toward her. “Perhaps no one in existence possesses sufficient power to satisfy you.”

Umar’s expression shifted.

No. Once, she had believed there might be.

There had been one.

A man surrounded by emerald light surprised her by answering power with power instead of fear, submission, or tedious worship during their bout.

That had been interesting.

Very interesting.

They had nearly reached the western hall when Dormammu’s tone became more serious.

“The Mhuruuks force us toward an unpleasant conclusion.”

“Most conclusions involving Mhuruuks are unpleasant.”

“I propose an alliance.”

Umar stopped.

Dormammu turned toward her.

She stared at him, then slowly smiled.

“Oh, this must be worse than I thought.”

Before Dormammu could answer, the entire fortress shook.

The first blast struck the outer towers with enough force to send cracks racing through the walls around them. A second followed almost immediately, this one accompanied by the pressure of concentrated sorcery.

Umar’s amusement vanished.

Another explosion echoed through the palace.

Dormammu turned toward the windows.

Beyond them, the dark sky had filled with streaks of blue, crimson, and white magic. Hundreds of robed figures descended toward the fortress, spells raining from their hands while protective wards flared into existence around the attacking Mhuruuks.

Umar stared.

“How dare they.”

Dormammu extended one hand, and the corridor wall disintegrated before him, opening directly onto the battle outside.

“I believe they have answered my proposal for us.”

Umar rose into the air beside him.

“For once, brother, try not to embarrass me.”

They flew through the opening together.

The first Mhuruuk wizard barely had time to recognize them before Dormammu engulfed him in Faltine flame. Umar swept one hand toward another group and twisted the space around them, folding their own attack back upon its casters. Three disappeared beneath their own sorcery, while a fourth managed to raise a shield just before Umar struck him with enough force to send him crashing through a distant tower.

The assault quickly became a battlefield.

Five Mhuruuk wizards appeared around them.

Unlike the others, they did not attack individually. Their hands rose together.Umar felt the spell forming before she saw it.

The courtyard began to distort.

Dormammu fired at one of the casters, but the attack bent around him.

“A dimensional displacement,” Umar realized.

She snarled and increased the force behind her counterspell.

“Idiots. If you intend to exile someone, you should first be certain you can overpower them.”

For several seconds, she believed she had.

The Mhuruuk spell buckled. One of the five screamed.

Then a sixth magical current appeared beneath it.

Umar’s eyes widened.

Hidden preparation.

They had anchored the spell before attacking the fortress.

“Clever.”

The world disappeared around her.

She heard Dormammu shouting her name as the Dark Dimension tore away from her.

For one brief instant, there was no direction, no matter, and no recognizable magic, only the sensation of being dragged through barriers that should never have opened.

Then everything went black.

When awareness returned, Umar was lying on grass.

She opened her eyes. For several moments, she remained perfectly still, partly from caution and partly because nothing around her made sense.

Umar sat up.

A lake stretched nearby, its surface perfectly calm except where a gentle breeze disturbed it. Trees surrounded the water, thick and ancient, while unfamiliar flowers grew between roots and stones.

She stood and raised one hand.

A portal began to form.

Then it collapsed.

Umar stared at the empty air.

She tried again, this time using considerably more power.

Nothing.

“What in the…”

Her expression darkened.

She changed the spell.

Still nothing.

Umar slowly lowered her hand.

“Where did those damned wizards send me?”

A small splash came from the lake.

Umar turned.

Someone sat near the shoreline.

A child.

The girl could not have been more than four or five years old. She sat beside the water with several smooth stones gathered around her, occasionally throwing one across the lake and watching it skip along the surface before sinking. Thick black hair fell around her shoulders, and even from this distance, Umar could see unusually bright blue eyes.

Umar studied the child more closely. She was not human, at least not entirely, and there was a great deal of power within her. The realization made Umar considerably more interested, and she started toward the shoreline.

The girl noticed her before Umar came particularly close, but no fear entered her face. There was only suspicion as she turned to watch the approaching stranger.

“You there, child.”

The girl faced her fully.

Umar gestured toward the unfamiliar landscape surrounding them. “What is this place?”

The child stared at her for a moment, then calmly gathered the remaining stones into her hands. “I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.”

With that, she stood and began walking away.

Umar blinked. “Excuse me?”

The girl continued walking without so much as looking back, forcing Umar to follow.

“Come back here.”

Still no response.

Umar quickened her pace, increasingly offended by the absurdity of the situation. “Girl, I asked you a question.”

That finally made the child stop. She glanced back over her shoulder and said, “Hilde says I can’t talk to people I don’t know.”

Umar took a slow breath as her eyes narrowed at the name. There were beings across realities who had begged for mercy merely because she looked displeased, yet this child seemed only mildly bored by her.

She was angry but calmed herself. Umar softened her expression into what she considered approachable. “I see the problem here.”

The girl continued watching her suspiciously as Umar placed one hand against her chest.

“My name is Umar.”

The girl waited.

“And now,” Umar continued, “I am no longer a stranger. What is your name?”

The girl hesitated before finally answering, “Aurora.”

Umar’s expression became genuinely pleased. “Aurora,” she repeated, tasting the name. “A wonderful name.”

The girl smiled, and Umar smiled back before crouching slightly so that she no longer towered quite so dramatically over her.

“There. Now we know one another’s names, so we are no longer strangers, are we?”

“So, Aurora, would you kindly tell me where we are?”

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You can read up to chapter 122 here.