Just as he was about to speak, Tony Stark's expression suddenly changed. His face was swallowed by a massive yet graceful shadow, and his entire expression froze.
A gigantic, slender, exquisitely beautiful hand silently extended before his eyes. He finally saw what that dense golden pattern was—claws that radiated a bewitching aura. The scales were gorgeous and mesmerizing, the great sickle-like talons soul-hooking, as if they could tear a person's spirit apart.
Although he had no idea why something so ferocious could evoke a sense of beauty.
Shhk—
The edge of a claw brushed across his face. Stark felt a sharp sting, like fine needles piercing his skin. The scab on his face split open with a faint rustle.
"Tony Stark... mm, the scent of a knowledge curse..."
It sounded almost like a laugh, tinged with languid indifference—the intoxicating voice of its owner.
The next instant, the restraint on his body vanished. His body stumbled forward instinctively. His cane tilted, only to be lifted by an invisible force. Stark belatedly reached up to touch his face. A thin cut had been left there, blood slowly seeping from the reopened scab.
Wait! The burn wounds, the bruises...
He spun around at once and saw that behind him, the terrifying Beast Goddess stood with her arms crossed, watching the faint traces of crimson at the tip of her claw with interest.
Noticing Stark's wary gaze, she tilted her head slightly.
Those were extraordinarily gorgeous, demonic eyes—vivid as droplets of blood. As Stark met her gaze and felt himself sinking into them, on the verge of losing consciousness entirely, a soft snort snapped him back to his senses.
"Hah... hah..."
His lungs felt as though they were being crushed and torn apart. Stark gasped heavily.
Just now, it had felt as though he were staring into the eyes of a legendary gorgon, about to lose the ability to think at any moment.
"You really aren't afraid of death, daring to meet my gaze at such close range."
Once he had recovered slightly, Stark avoided her eyes and looked only at the lower half of her flawless, exquisite face. "You..."
"Back to the point, Tony Stark. You have been conscripted."
Cutting him off, Selene stepped past him. The Beast Goddess' voice remained indifferent, unquestionable. "Whether you are legal or illegal will depend on your performance... Stark, don't throw a tantrum. Go say goodbye to your little Pepper properly."
Legal? Illegal?
What is legal? What is illegal?
I am the law!
Cough... it did not matter that she was currently the divine heroic spirit Gorgon rather than the imperial ruler. According to the New York Treaty signed by the Master Chief—John-117—the law on Earth was indeed set by America.
At least for those holding American nationality. And Tony Stark, a born-and-bred Stars-and-Stripes citizen—if you defy the Conscription Act, you are illegal.
"Little Pepper..."
Stark opened his mouth, but in the end had nothing to say. After receiving the draft notice handed to him by an auxiliary military clerk, he walked toward the somewhat dilapidated base building in a daze.
"Oh my, even Lady Gorgon has descended. That's wonderful! That suicidal assault from those mutants just now truly scared me to death..."
Merlin patted his chest with exaggerated relief, winking at Selene.
Clairvoyance really is troublesome.
Selene raised a brow.
Within the Swirl of the Root, on the Throne of Heroes, all Saint Graphs and summoning possibilities of the full-moon goddess Selene of the Greek Olympian pantheon and the Beast Goddess Gorgon had already been sealed away. For those well-informed beings upon the Throne, this was no secret.
Heroic Spirit Medusa, at least, was very happy.
After all, she had permanently deleted the conceptual legend of devouring her two elder sisters, losing the possibility of ever becoming "Gorgon." In her view, the power of "Gorgon" had been her greatest nightmare.
In short, if in some Holy Grail War the Heroic Spirit Beast Goddess Gorgon were to appear, one need not guess—there was a high chance that Her Majesty was playing on an alternate account for amusement.
And even if not, that Heroic Spirit would likely be an incarnation capturing Selene's state from some particular moment in time.
"Lady Gorgon, when will you..."
Merlin leaned closer with a grin. "Let me go study at Kamar-Taj as well?" he whispered.
Selene stopped and glanced sideways at this internet-swindling jester. She first smiled sweetly, then extended her hand, her voice turning eerie.
"The time for revenge has come, Fou."
The moment those words left her lips, Merlin's smile froze.
"No—"
"Fou~"
In the next instant, a white canine-like little beast with a red ribbon tied at its collar shot out from a spatial portal in Selene's palm. It seemed half-asleep, even blowing a snot bubble.
"Fou?"
Suddenly, sensing a certain someone's presence, the snot bubble popped. The small beast's eyes snapped open—razor sharp.
"Fou!"
With agility beyond that of any gymnast, the white canine spun a dramatic one-thousand-and-eighty-degree aerial rotation, flipping and twisting midair. Its pink paw pads bloomed like a cat's, extending fully as it delivered a vicious kick toward a certain white-haired incubus who had just begun to turn away.
Fou flying kick!
Boom!
A shockwave burst outward, sand and dust scattering. With a heavy crash, Merlin's incomparably handsome face—beautiful enough to pull off cross-dressing—distorted slightly. Then the white-haired court mage spiraled through the air, flying straight toward the artificial lake not far from the Avengers base.
Splash.
"Awoo—!"
Merlin let out a miserable howl. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts so much!"
"Damn it, Cath Palug! Why did Her Majesty install a 'Limiter' on you as well? Just because of her grudge against me, she let you break through one 'Limiter'—what kind of absurdity is this? Was that kick in Absolute Demonic Front: Babylonia not enough? You even specially optimized leg strength and claw force—what a waste of talent! It hurts, ow ow ow... you vicious beast! Evil beast! Ah—stop scratching my face—"
"Fou! Fouwu! Merlin, I'll kick you every time I see you! Merlin must die!"
Splash splash—
The sound of water spraying from the artificial lake.
"..."
Selene's earlier oppressive tension toward Stark had completely dissipated. "Cough..." Gorgon spread her claws. "Just adjusting the atmosphere a little. I'm not part of the command system. I hold a bit of status within the Hunter Corps. Please, go ahead."
The Black President blinked and exchanged a glance with Secretary Ross. Especially Ross—after being repeatedly "looked after" by Merlin, he had already concluded that the man was a powerful mage. And yet...
Geniuses—or the truly powerful—often had their quirks.
The Black President and Secretary Ross reached a silent consensus.
"Pff..."
At that moment, as the dream prison lost the cosmic energy supply from Merlin and dissipated, the former Avengers—Captain America, Black Widow, and Scarlet Witch—awoke one after another.
As for the Black hero Falcon, he was just an ordinary man. He had already passed out completely when he arrived and was carried away by Secret Service agents in a flurry of movement. He was probably already in the ICU.
"...Mr. President."
After a long while, Steve Rogers finally recovered. Struggling to prop himself up on his elbows, he saw the Black President, the Secretary of State, the Speaker, the Majority Whip... among agents in combat suits, soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms, power-armored Demon Judges, and a chaotic gathering of Heroic Spirits.
"Captain."
"...Mr. President, was I wrong?" Rogers' lips trembled.
"Captain, you are guilty."
"..." Rogers closed his eyes in pain.
The Black President looked toward the auxiliary officers present, then toward the Demon Judges, and finally settled on the Beast Goddess, who was quietly looting the body—her claws moving in and out of Vision's vibranium corpse, which had lost its Mind Stone.
"Proceed lightly."
Captain America—his symbolic meaning far outweighed any practical value. In truth, he was too ordinary.
Buy one, get one free. The Black President signaled the Secret Service agents to step forward. Using special restraints, they arrested Rogers and Natasha.
"You killed him—you actually killed him! I've lost everything! I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!"
Wanda's accusation rang out like a cuckoo crying blood.
On the red-clad woman's face, veined with scarlet patterns, her bloodshot, feral eyes fixed on everyone present as though she meant to carve their faces into her mind—ready to tear them apart the next second.
"No saving her."
The brutal death of her beloved had plunged Wanda completely into madness and hatred.
Clang.
Her claws unfolded, reflecting crimson light as Selene rolled her neck.
Unlike Captain America and Black Widow, Scarlet Witch's potential was far too high—her combat power already formidable. Selene did not believe the American authorities could possibly contain her. Moreover, this was essentially the government betraying and selling out the Avengers. Once Scarlet Witch fell completely into darkness, there would be no pulling her back.
No—she already had.
Therefore, since Selene had no interest in committing indecency before a widower or brainwashing a widow, the best method of handling this was—
I'll inherit the Chaos Magic.
Thrust.
As she coughed up fragments of organs, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth, Wanda's cracked, hatred-filled crimson eyes gradually dimmed. Like a rag doll, she was impaled and lifted by the Beast Goddess' claws.
Absorb.
The "Limiter"—let's experiment with it on the Gorgon incarnation first.
Selene thought silently.
Chaos magic.
The six Infinity Stones.
The Phoenix Force.
The power of the Void.
...
There were far too many things in this Marvel universe suitable for experimentation.
This treasured land of geomantic fortune was simply too perfect as a testing ground.
Stark and the rest were secondary. If the "Limiters" on other Heroic Spirits were supplementary versions, if John's Chapter strike cruiser fleet was merely incidental, and Saitama was the lone original edition—then Gorgon was the enhanced version of the "Limiter."
Bzzzz—
Dark red, viscous energy flowed as the woman's body tore apart. The faintly glowing, twisted soul collapsed in that instant. Wanda vanished—her flesh disintegrating into the most basic cosmic particles, truly reduced to dust.
Only the pitch-black, faintly crimson-glowing Chaos Magic remained, leaping between the claws.
...
Two days later.
The New York incident had ended. The Star Destroyer that had entered Earth's atmosphere had already departed.
One could say that, aside from the people of New York, the entire world breathed a sigh of relief. For the Divine Empress Order had chosen the former Avengers base north of New York as its headquarters garrison on Earth.
New Yorkers: Why us?
Everyone else: Because you have the most experience dealing with this sort of thing.
New Yorkers: *****
Time seemed peaceful. Selene secluded herself at home to cultivate. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters shut down. Phoenix, as a conscript, entered training at the New York recruitment station. Mutants were screened in large numbers and sent into the station. The Avengers were officially dissolved by the government. The various Heroic Spirits, as mercenaries, began cleansing Skrulls across the globe...
Master Chief and Saitama, as exchange students at Kamar-Taj, studied under the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One.
That was Selene's answer to her.
The former as a short-term apprentice, learning to control the ever-surging power after multiple transformations. The latter as a closed-door disciple, struggling just to get started...
In short, Selene had more or less half-sold Saitama.
And yet, amid this globally bustling reconstruction and communication restoration—while Selene was in seclusion within the New York base exploring Chaos power—she never expected that even at this stage, she would still experience a "local specialty"!
"What do you mean? In Europe, a group of radical climate environmental organizations are protesting the expansion of recruitment training bases, claiming environmental damage? Protesting large-scale live-fire drills for disturbing residents and polluting the air?"
"A human rights organization has written to the local government and forwarded a proposal to us, hoping we will safeguard the legal rights of death row inmates?"
"Death row inmates formed into penal battalions still require comprehensive protections? They want to station and supervise our recruitment officers to ensure there is no abuse of authority, corporal punishment, or issues with food, lodging, and medical services?"
"An ethnic organization has sent improvement suggestions, hoping we respect minority rights. They are dissatisfied with the published list of recruitment officers, claiming they see no respect for diversity."
"An equality group is protesting, stating that overly beautiful or robust recruitment officers constitute objectification, and that obesity and physical appearance should not be elimination standards."
"What do you mean 'Skrull lives matter'?"
"An LGBT+ group claims..."
In Selene's view, after the summit concluded and the New York Treaty—including the Conscription Act—was published and disseminated, the wave of opposition stirred among North American and global civilians should have been minimal.
The Black President's public relations team would no doubt soon launch a new round of myth-making.
"Unafraid of power." "Not yielding an inch." "Fighting for every right." "America's savior." "Defender of the free order"... and so on. Praises and glorifications would emerge in no time.
And indeed, that was exactly what happened.
After all, the contents of the summit negotiations were semi-public. At first glance, the treaties and clauses the Black President and his administration had secured from the vicious alien invaders seemed extraordinarily lenient.
As the weaker party, facing the alien fleet of the Divine Empress Order—capable of reducing Earth's civilization to the Stone Age with a single volley, or even erasing the cradle of human reproduction itself—being able to preserve most of Earth's sovereignty was already an outstanding achievement.
Yet Selene had still underestimated the diversity of human development as individuals.
Perhaps because the alien force, the Divine Empress Order, had appeared far too civilized and reasonable, once the news was officially released, she had not expected so many absurd troubles to descend so quickly.
With her demonic, divine face in Gorgon form—bright golden serpent-scale markings along her cheeks and jaw—an extremely complicated expression curved across Selene's brows. It looked like confusion, like surprise, like numb recollection, like irritation...
While familiarizing herself with the Chaos Magic inherited from Scarlet Witch, guiding the Phoenix Force within Jean Grey, checking on John's progress, idly playing with the Mind Stone and Time Stone, and glancing at the amicable exchanges between the two bald men—Ancient One and Saitama—over at Kamar-Taj, Gorgon-Selene had originally been in quite a good mood.
The moment she saw these reports, however, she jolted.
Hiss. This feels familiar.
I seem to have dealt with this sort of thing before... right, when I was rebuilding the Holy Roman Empire for Ferdinand.
Then it's nothing new.
After all, Western "local flavor"—especially the American server—being the core region, how could one not sample it?
But—
"These unruly rabble!"
With a single slap, Selene sent the several-ton metal desk before her—along with the reinforced steel foundation—blasting through the wall. Nearly ten tons of reinforced concrete skipped across the artificial lake beside the Avengers base at supersonic speed, leaving behind a hundred-meter-wide crater on the uninhabited island in the middle of the lake.
Amid the dust and debris, at the former Avengers New York base—now the New York garrison of the Divine Empress Order—liaison officers from the North American authorities and Imperial military personnel rushed out in a flurry.
"What happened? Who over-transformed and lost control, tearing down the training grounds?!"
"Mutant attack? Or those second-rate street-level vigilantes?"
"No attack. Disperse! Call engineering. Structural damage to the garrison. Shield system overloaded—insufficient strength. Needs reinforcement..."
...
Creak...
"On Earth, what could possibly irritate you so, Lady Gorgon?"
Exhaling a wave of frost that froze the airborne ash and dust and pushed it out of the room, Esdeath set down her coffee cup, ensuring not a speck of dust touched the table. She glanced curiously at Selene, then picked up the scattered white papers of proposals from the floor. After flipping through a few pages, her brows furrowed.
"This..."
The expression of the Empire's Ice General became almost identical to Selene's from moments earlier.
"Shall I eliminate them?"
As an Imperial officer, her expression control was excellent. Esdeath set down the folder and made a gesture of tightening a noose—or slitting a throat.
Having once served as governor of a centrally administered high-level star region, she had seen storms of every scale.
Well... all right. She had never seen over a hundred classifications of gender. She could not understand it—but she was profoundly shocked.
"Eliminate them."
Selene's attitude was firm.
In the world of Magic Index, due to her adoptive parents, she had always played within the rules of the game. Even after rebuilding the Holy Roman Empire, she had continued doing so—often wrangling with those idle "special-interest organizations." Because she upheld rule of law, Empress Selene of the Holy Roman Empire could not simply round them all up and shoot them.
Instead, within the bounds of legality, she had banned, rectified, suppressed, divided, increased taxes, cut funding—gradually phasing them out and standardizing them.
Though the objective had been achieved all the same, it had not been satisfying.
Now, in the Marvel world, she had no such constraints. She had no need to rebuild any Holy Roman Empire here, nor to assume direct rule.
Within the rules of the game? Nonsense.
"Issue orders to Washington and Europa. Disperse all related protest gatherings. Those who obstruct—suppress directly. Those who resist—execute on the spot. Strict orders. Immediate enforcement. If they are incapable of doing so, we will reassess the legitimacy of their lawful governance."
Her tone shifted as Selene turned to the American ambassador who had just entered with an auxiliary officer. Her cold, arrogant gaze fixed upon him. "You understand what I mean."
The investigation had been thorough. The capital magnates and interest-harvesting forces behind these organizations had not moved. It was purely spontaneous action by middle- and lower-class individuals who had been misled by those theories.
They genuinely believed that because the Divine Empress Order was civilized, it needed to accept their ideology—needed diversity, needed greater fairness. In their words: "better, more beautiful, more natural, more diverse."
This was John's fault.
Though John was also a member of the Imperial military, his temperament had long been set. He lacked the ruthless edge common among most soldiers of the Sacred Selene Empire—the arrogance of killing you for a single wrong glance. The troops he led were the same.
Too civilized...
It was not that they could not fight brutal wars. It was a matter of temperament.
In other words, John ought to spend some time studying in the Emperor's A-13 Central Star Region Governorship from Warhammer 40K. A little balancing would do him good.
"Y-Yes... I will immediately notify Washington."
His breathing hitched. The slightly balding ambassador nodded frantically, bowing as he wiped cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
"Calm down, calm down, beautiful ladies. I believe I have already witnessed your authority..."
After a brief video call with his beloved "Little Pepper," Pepper Potts, in Los Angeles, Tony Stark understood that being taken off Earth into space was no longer negotiable. He had been preparing to seek out John, the representative of the Divine Empress Order, to discuss certain matters.
Instead, he had nearly jumped out of his skin at the thunderous crash—half of the left wing of the former Avengers base had collapsed. Once upon a time, that had all been his property.
Upon being granted entry with his pass, he had just stepped inside when he heard this explosive order. He attempted to halt the impending massacre proposed by the two women before him—one with serpent eyes, talons, and vulture wings; the other like eternal ice.
"Benevolent and prosperous lady of the household—"
Clang!
"Speak plainly."
Stark clearly was not very good at praising others.
Waving a claw dismissively, Selene had no interest in debating "local specialties" with him. "You. Have you made your choice?"
"Yes... I choose to go to space."
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven