X-Men: The Unnatural Omega's Volume 2, Omniverse Saga
Chapter 6: Meg, Mando, and Darth Maul
…
Kratos, standing tall and firm, observed Fenrir as the great beast's demeanor shifted, the wolf-dog emitting a low, warning growl. A sense of foreboding washed over him as the other inhabitants of Krakoa, too, perceived the peculiar disruption in the atmosphere - Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Kirby, and Geralt all were in a state of heightened alertness.
Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Kirby, and Geralt too, picked up on the tension. Their instincts were on high alert as an invisible ripple seemed to vibrate through the reality fabric of Krakoa.
Close by stood Hercules, the hero from Disney's universe, an amicable grin often adorning his face. Unlike the Hercules from Kratos' own world - a brute driven by arrogance and rage - this Hercules was the embodiment of true heroism and kindness. Despite their shared name and similar powers, the contrast between them was stark. In this Hercules, Kratos found something he never thought he would: a brother in arms.
Just as Kratos was coming to terms with this new realization, Thanos approached them. The Mad Titan, who had been usurped by Alex Mercer and was now a resident of Krakoa, bore a grave expression. "A conjunction has formed near Titan, my former homeworld," he announced solemnly.
The Titan had been monitoring the reality fluctuations on Krakoa. His words further escalated the tension. "Four beings have come through. But this breach... it's behaving like the one that leads to the Witcher universe. It remains open."
The news sent a collective chill through the group. An open portal to the Witcher universe, closely guarded by the formidable Unseen Elder, was a perpetual risk. The prospect of another such breach, especially at such a significant location, spelled potential disaster.
With unanimous agreement, they decided to investigate this new breach, eager to secure the safety of their realities.
With the addition of Sonic the Hedgehog to their party, an enthusiastic helper ready to lend a hand, the team prepared to depart for Titan. Logan, Jon and Arya, Kirby, Geralt, Hercules, Kratos, Mimir, and Thanos made up a formidable contingent, each with their unique skills and expertise.
Amidst the group, Fenrir, the colossal wolf-dog, laid comfortably, his large form occupying the back of the ship. His eyes flicked with interest to Thanos, who was musing over a strategy plan. Fenrir's tail began to wag in a strangely playful manner, causing the ship to sway slightly. The huge beast's playful demeanor seemed out of place in the tense atmosphere, and yet it brought a sense of levity that was oddly comforting.
Seeing this, Thanos raised an eyebrow, surprised by the wolf-dog's behavior. But, after a moment of contemplation, a small, amused smirk formed on his usually stoic face. Perhaps there was a bond forming between the two, a silent understanding that spanned beyond their vastly different species. Their journey to Titan had just begun, but the camaraderie developing within the group was already a promising start.
…
"Huh... So this is what space looks like," remarked Disney's Hercules, his eyes widening with a sense of wonderment. "It's quite different from my world... There, the night sky was nothing more than a blanket draped behind the chariot of night. But this... This is unimaginably vast and beautiful." His voice trailed off as he stared out of the ship's viewing port, captivated by the sea of twinkling stars, swirling galaxies, and distant nebulae that made up the cosmic landscape.
At this point, Kratos and Geralt noticed Hercules' gaze seeming to drift towards a certain point in the cosmos, possibly where his world would be. It was a subtle shift, yet to the trained eyes of a Spartan god and a seasoned Witcher, it suggested a deeper longing.
"You're thinking about someone, aren't you?" Geralt ventured to ask, his voice layered with empathy.
A somber smile graced Hercules' face as he turned towards them, his gaze filled with tenderness, "Meg... Megara. She's probably worried sick by now."
Kratos, familiar with the anguish of being separated from loved ones, nodded in silent understanding. His hardened eyes softened, recognizing the depth of Hercules' sentiment.
"But you'd choose her, over the gods, again and again, wouldn't you?" Kratos inquired, his voice surprisingly gentle.
Hercules simply nodded, the love he bore for the mortal woman evident in his gaze. "A million times over, if it meant being with her."
Hercules' gaze turned distant, lost in the memories of a moment that had tested the very bounds of his divine strength and mortal heart.
"I almost lost her once," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "Hades had claimed her soul, and I dove into the River Styx to retrieve her." His grip tightened on the armrests of his seat, a silent testament to the harrowing experience.
"The Styx... It's a river of death and despair in my world. It drains the life out of you, aging you every second you're in there. But I didn't care. I was prepared to sacrifice my godhood, my very life, to save her."
His eyes, full of intense determination and love, met those of Kratos and Geralt. "And I know without a doubt, if such a time ever comes again... I'd do it just as many times. Whatever it takes. That's how much she means to me."
It was a vow, a promise whispered amongst the stars, his words echoing throughout the ship, seeping into the silence that followed. It was a testament to his courage, his dedication, and above all, the depth of his love for Megara.
Kratos listened quietly to Hercules' story, his scarred face impassive, but his eyes reflective. This Hercules was a far cry from the boastful, arrogant Hercules he had known in his own realm - a Hercules who had chosen brute strength over nobility, selfish desires over selflessness. This Hercules was different.
This Hercules had willingly risked his own life, his godhood, for the one he loved. He was humble, yet powerful; strong, yet kind. He had a heart that bore the weight of his world yet carried it with grace and humility. This Hercules was a true hero, not by the strength of his muscles but by the strength of his heart.
This Hercules... had earned Kratos's respect.
The God of War was not known to show approval easily, but his silence spoke volumes. His gruff nod, the slightest softening in his gaze as he met Hercules' eyes, was a quiet acknowledgment. An acknowledgment of respect, from one warrior to another, from one being who knew the weight of sacrifice to another.
This Hercules was not the one from his past; this Hercules was someone Kratos could respect. And in this moment, perhaps they shared more than just a name from ancient mythologies. They shared an understanding - an understanding of the weight of love and the sacrifices one would make for it.
…
Their boots crunched against the rocky soil of Titan as they disembarked from the ship, taking in the sight of the once vibrant city that was now home to nothing but silence and ruins. Thanos, the Mad Titan himself, led the way, his towering form undeniably familiar with the wreckage around them.
The sight of Kirby bouncing around happily, Fenrir sniffing curiously at the alien terrain, and Sonic speeding off to explore the surroundings, brought about strange looks from the few remaining inhabitants of Titan. But the mission took precedence, and they carried on to the location of the portal that Thanos had identified.
The open portal pulsated ominously, a swirling vortex of energy that seemed out of place amidst the desolate landscape. It was a doorway to a different world, a different reality. But to which one, they did not yet know.
A quick analysis by Geralt and Mimir, aided by Thanos's technology, soon revealed the nature of the destination. The portal led to a world that seemed to be in a state of recovery from a great war - a world where strange ships sailed the sky, wielding powers that mimicked magic. A world where swords made of pure energy were the weapons of choice for warrior monks.
It was a world known as Star Wars - after the events of the original trilogy. But this was knowledge they did not possess, only observing the strange technology and unfamiliar culture.
As for the fact that the portal remained open, it was indeed an anomaly. And so far, thankfully, no one else had come through. For now, they could only speculate about the implications. The mission was clear - to observe, to understand, and, if necessary, to act.
The group began their search, scanning the area around the portal for any clues that might hint at its purpose or origin. Fenrir, following Kratos' subtle directions, started to sniff around, his large head darting this way and that as he tried to pick up on any unfamiliar scents. His bushy tail was wagging slightly, a clear sign that the dog was enjoying the process.
Kratos couldn't shake off an uneasy feeling creeping up his spine. He felt like they were being observed from the shadows, and it wasn't a sensation he was unfamiliar with. Years of being a warrior had taught him to trust his instincts, and he let his eyes wander, scanning the skyline of the desolate city. There, atop one of the broken buildings, a faint glimmer caught his attention. Someone dressed in metallic armor, peering down at them through a pair of strange binoculars.
Before he could react to the silent watcher, a voice echoed from behind the group. "Boy wonder," it said, rich with amusement and affection. The words were directed towards the Disney Hercules. He turned, and his face lit up in an instant as he caught sight of the woman standing there. It was Megara – Meg.
"Herc," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small smile. The reunion was a touching sight, even amidst the ruins of Titan. The situation had suddenly become far more complicated than they had initially thought, but at least there was one unexpected joyful moment amidst it all.
As soon as she was within reach, Hercules pulled Megara into a tight embrace. She let out a small laugh of surprise before melting into his arms, returning his hold just as fiercely. It was a reunion of genuine warmth, one that seemed to temporarily brighten the bleak surroundings of Titan.
After a moment, Hercules pulled away slightly to look at her. "Meg, these are my friends," he started, gesturing towards the rest of the group. As he introduced each one of them - Kratos, Geralt, Jon, Arya, Sonic, Kirby, Logan, Thanos, and Fenrir - Meg listened attentively, taking in each of them with an open curiosity.
When he finished the introductions, Hercules took a deep breath before diving into the explanation of their current situation. He told her about the different worlds, the portals, the other universes. He explained that the planet in the sky, which looked like a star from their world, was actually Jupiter. And that the moon they were currently on was known as Titan.
Meg listened to it all, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she processed the information. It was a lot to take in, but she gave Hercules a small nod to show that she was following along. "So, we're not in Greece anymore, huh?" she said, her tone wry as she looked around the alien landscape. "Well, as long as I'm with you, Herc, I think I can handle it." Her hand slipped into his, a quiet affirmation of her unwavering trust in him.
Moments later, Kratos broke the peaceful bubble that had formed around Hercules and Meg. "There is someone watching us," he said in his gravelly voice, eyes focused on a nearby structure. "They're clad in metal armor... and they're approaching us."
Heads turned, squinting against the backdrop of Titan's skyline. Sure enough, a figure was gradually coming into focus. Encased in distinct, metallic armor, the unknown observer descended from the structure, moving with a purpose towards the group.
As the figure steadily neared, they could discern the intricacies of his armor - a distinct helmet, a cape billowing slightly in the light breeze, a weapon holstered by his side. His demeanor and the slight air of mystery that surrounded him, alongside the quiet confidence resonating from his every step, all suggested a person well-versed in the art of survival.
As he finally arrived, the figure stood tall, his helmeted head turning slightly as if appraising the curious band before him. Encased in metallic armor, the figure was a distinct sight. He was the Mandalorian, also known as Din Djarin, although they had no way of knowing this yet.
"Didn't expect to see a group like you here," his voice echoed from within the helmet, a trace of bafflement lacing his words. "Can any of you tell me how I got here? I was in the Outer Rim one moment, and then..." His voice trailed off as he gestured to the unfamiliar surroundings encapsulating them.
Even though they couldn't see his eyes, they could sense the plea for answers. These people were strangers, yet in this moment, they might be the only ones who could shed some light on the confusing situation he had landed in.
…
In due course, they carefully explained the complexity of the circumstances, about the phenomenon known as a 'conjunction' and the realities of alternate universes. They gestured towards the shimmering portal behind them, explaining that it served as a gateway to his world, even though there was a palpable barrier hindering his return.
Throughout the conversation, the Mandalorian stayed quiet, absorbing the flood of information with a level of calm that was uncanny. The concept of different universes was, admittedly, a lot to digest. But in his line of work, he had encountered things that could be considered strange even by galactic standards. He glanced back at the portal, an air of longing hidden behind his helmet.
"So I'm trapped here?" The Mandalorian finally articulated his thoughts, a touch of worry threading through his usually calm voice. His next words, however, contained a deeper layer of concern. "There's someone - a child - I need to find. We were together when this... phenomenon happened, but somehow we got separated."
The word 'Grogu' remained unspoken, but his commitment towards the child was evident. Behind the helmet, his gaze sharpened with determination. The thought of the young being alone and possibly scared in this unknown world tightened his grip on his blaster.
Understanding bloomed within the group. The child he mentioned must hold a significant place in his life, a bond they could all relate to in their own ways. For now, all they could do was assure him of their assistance in locating the lost one. After all, they were in this bizarre situation together.
Pivoting towards Meg and their newest companion, Thanos voiced a query that had been brewing in his mind, "We detected four energy signatures when this conjunction happened. Was there anyone else with either of you at that time?"
Both Meg and The Mandalorian responded with a shake of their heads, their gestures succinct, yet revealing. No, they had been alone - or as alone as one could be in their respective circumstances - when the world had warped around them, drawing them into this entirely new existence. Their answers, while answering one question, made the mystery of the fourth energy signature even more puzzling.
"Do you possess anything that belongs to Grogu? Something that Fenrir here might use to track his scent?" Kratos asked The Mandalorian, his voice calm and steady, brimming with the assurance of a seasoned warrior ready to face the unexpected.
Nodding, The Mandalorian reached into a pocket of his armor, pulling out a small, weathered object. It was a knob from the control panel of his ship, one that Grogu was particularly fond of playing with. Holding it out towards the enormous wolf, he said, "This was his favorite toy on the ship. He always seemed to have it with him."
Fenrir moved forward, his large nostrils flaring as he took several deep sniffs of the metal knob. The air around them seemed to become electric as the wolf's focus honed in on the lingering essence of Grogu.
Abruptly, Fenrir turned his head towards a direction, ears pricked, and tail wagging in a steady rhythm. There was a sense of certainty and recognition in his movements that belied the strength of the scent he'd picked up.
"There," said Kratos, following Fenrir's line of sight. "That's the direction we need to follow."
Without further ado, the party reassembled, following the imposing figure of Fenrir who was now leading the way, his keen senses guiding them through the city in search of the lost Grogu.
As they navigated the serpentine streets of the city, guided by Fenrir's unerring sense of smell, they found themselves in a bustling marketplace. Amidst stalls teeming with an array of exotic fruits and intricately woven textiles, a peculiar sight greeted them - an elderly merchant, tenderly offering food to a small green creature.
Housed in a floating orb-like contraption that resembled a miniature spacecraft, was Grogu. The tiny being was clasping a chunk of sweet fruit, his huge, curious eyes sparkling with delight as he tasted the unfamiliar delicacy. The merchant watched with a benign smile, clearly taken with the alien visitor.
As the group approached, Grogu's large ears perked up, his tiny hands momentarily halting their dance around the fruit. His large, expressive eyes widened further as he spotted a familiar armored figure in the approaching crowd - The Mandalorian. A squeal of pure joy echoed around the marketplace, a tiny clawed hand reaching out towards the bounty hunter. The bond between the duo was palpable, painting a heartwarming picture of love and companionship.
"I believe we've accounted for the third energy signature," Thanos murmured, his stern countenance softening at the sight of Grogu's joyous reunion.
Indeed, despite his diminutive stature, the energy emanating from Grogu was undeniable. However, as the group celebrated their successful mission, an ominous figure lurked in the shadows. Cloaked in obscurity, the figure bore a lower body of hard, metallic semblance and a crown of twisted horns atop his head. His skin was a striking mix of red and black, eyes glowing a sinister yellow.
The figure watched the group, his focus primarily on the tiny green creature. He was the fourth energy signature, a presence of darkness that had quietly slipped through the portal. Darth Maul, the Sith Lord, was waiting, observing, his cold gaze fixated on Grogu - the Jedi Padawan, and his sworn enemy.
…
As Thanos generously compensated the merchant for his kindness, a distinct sense of unease began to creep into the atmosphere. Fenrir, attuned to the wild rhythm of nature, felt it first. His ears flicked and his eyes narrowed, scanning the immediate surroundings. His tail stilled and his fur began to bristle subtly.
Geralt, with his witcher senses, detected it next. His eyes sharpened and his hand instinctively drifted towards his silver sword. He scanned the crowd, the Witcher's cat-like eyes piercing the milling crowd.
Kratos, with his experience in dealing with both Gods and monsters, could not ignore the familiar tug of danger. His gaze hardened, his fists tightening reflexively. Logan, his senses honed by years of living on the edge of danger, instantly caught the slight change in the air. His nostrils flared slightly, his Adamantium claws twitching in anticipation beneath his skin.
Thanos and Mando, though not inherently possessing heightened senses, were veterans of countless battles. They had survived through instinct and experience, and they could feel it too. A sense of impending danger that seemed to hang in the air, a dark anticipation that had their senses on high alert. Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. Something was off. The predator was near, its gaze as cold and relentless as the vacuum of space.
Geralt's voice cut through the hum of the crowd like a sword through the stillness of the night. His challenge was clear and resolute. The bustling activity of the marketplace stilled and a hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned towards the imposing Witcher. There was no anger in his tone, only a steely determination that commanded attention and respect.
Every head turned, the activity of the market ceasing as the attention fell on the group. Moments passed, the silence deepening, the tension mounting. And then, from the edge of the crowd, a figure slowly emerged. He walked with an easy, predatory grace, his movements smooth and deliberate. His cloak swirled around him, a dark cloud that hinted at the storm to come. The metal of his lower half glinted ominously under the sunlight. His skin, a startling red and black, stood out sharply against the backdrop of the crowd, and his yellow eyes glowed with a chilling intensity.
Only Mando seemed to recognize the figure stepping forth from the crowd. His grip tightened on his blaster as he muttered, "He's a Sith... Darth Maul... But he's supposed to be dead."
The mysterious figure with the horned crown carried an aura of danger, one that sent a shiver through the group. His red and black skin stood out sharply against the vibrant colors of the marketplace, and his glowing yellow eyes were filled with a chilling intensity that riveted everyone. His gaze scanned over the group, coming to rest on Grogu. The silence was punctuated by the weight of his unspoken threat.
The others followed Mando's gaze, their expressions turning grave as they understood. The fourth energy signature. The last piece of the puzzle. It was Darth Maul.
Despite the surprise, they reacted quickly. Thanos immediately positioned himself between Maul and Grogu, while Geralt, Kratos, and Logan moved to flank him. Hercules, unaccustomed to such clear danger, looked to Meg, ensuring she was safe.
The tension in the air became palpable, every person in the square sensing the imminent conflict. The time for talk had ended. If Darth Maul had any intention of harming Grogu, they were ready to prevent it. Now it was up to Maul to make his move.
Darth Maul's lips curved into a sinister grin beneath his fearsome visage, "Impressive," he began, his voice low and gravely, yet echoing throughout the tense square. "Those without the Force still managed to sense my presence."
His yellow eyes flicked to Grogu, then returned to the group. "I am here for the Padawan. Duty dictates it so." His gaze lingered on each of them as he assessed their strength. "But I can see I am outnumbered. An ambush would be unbecoming."
Maul crossed his arms, his hands hidden beneath the loose folds of his dark robe. "So, I offer a compromise," he continued. His eyes narrowed, yellow orbs glittering with anticipation. "I will face one of you in combat. Should I win, I will take the Padawan. If I lose..." A smirk twisted his alien features. "I will leave this place and forget the Padawan exists."
The square fell silent as his words echoed. All eyes turned to the group, their decision pending. The rules of the duel had been set. Now, it was up to them to choose their champion.
…
After moving to a clearing…
After a brief discussion among the group, they concluded that Geralt would be their best chance against the Sith. With his Witcher skills, enhanced by potions, and magical Runes, he was the most prepared for such a duel.
Maul watched as Geralt stepped forward, his eyes flickering with interest. The Witcher took a moment to prepare, pulling out vials from his pouch. He downed the Serpent Serum, the Adamantium Elixir, and finally, the Stormward potion. The three concoctions began to work immediately, heightening his reflexes to a superhuman degree, bolstering his physical strength and resistance, and shielding him against potential electric-based attacks.
Lastly, Geralt unsheathed his sword, a gift from Von Everec. The blade glowed with a dark energy that mirrored the sinister aura of the Sith Lord. Darth Maul looked at the weapon, his eyes flashing with approval and admiration. "Impressive," he admitted, his voice carrying a rare note of respect.
Fully equipped, Geralt faced his opponent in the open area. His eyes never left Darth Maul as he positioned himself in a battle-ready stance. Now, the true test began.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Darth Maul brought forth his signature weapon: a dual-ended lightsaber. Its red blades ignited with a menacing hum that cut through the tense silence, casting eerie glows upon Maul's horned face and the assembled crowd.
Geralt, in turn, cast Quen. A protective magical shield shrouded him, adding an additional layer of defense against the lethal power of Maul's weapon. Even as he did so, the Witcher's eyes remained focused on his opponent, the luminous blades reflected in his cat-like pupils.
And then the fight began.
Without warning, Maul launched forward, his lightsaber a red blur as he initiated the battle with a series of swift, precise strikes. Geralt, however, had his own speed to count on. The effects of the Serpent Serum allowed him to meet each attack with a parry, his darkly glowing sword clashing against the red beams of the lightsaber in a shower of sparks.
They were both formidable adversaries, their movements a blur to the onlookers, their weapons clashing with resonating echoes that punctuated the deadly dance they were engaged in. Each fighter was a study in focus and determination, neither willing to give the other an inch. This was a duel that would push them both to their limits.
Darth Maul, despite being locked in combat, found himself surprised and intrigued by the effects of Geralt's iron sword. Instead of being sliced or burned away by the sizzling energy of his lightsaber, the Witcher's weapon held firm. It did more than just hold firm - it appeared to be absorbing the vibrant red light emitted by Maul's weapon, the deadly beams dissipating into harmless wisps upon contact.
A flicker of approval sparked in Maul's yellow eyes, brief but noticeable. This was a worthy opponent. A unique weapon, capable of standing against the might of a lightsaber, wielded by a fighter whose speed and skill were proving to be quite the challenge. He did not expect this, but it made the fight all the more exhilarating.
They continued their dance of death, Geralt's sword meeting Maul's lightsaber with an ethereal sizzle, each clash reverberating with an energetic discharge. The Witcher's deftly defensive maneuvers met the Sith Lord's aggressive onslaught with equal force, neither combatant yielding to the other.
The duelists whirled, their movements a blur to those watching, the impact of their weapons clashing a constant thunderous drumbeat underscoring the tension of the battle. This was a trial of skill, a testament to each warrior's resolve, and neither had any intention of relenting.
Maul, leveraging a split-second distraction, swung his lightsaber in a swift arc aiming at Geralt's side. The Witcher was fast, but even he couldn't completely avoid the Sith Lord's precise strike. The blade hit, but instead of slicing through Geralt, the energy beam just grazed his side.
A gasp echoed around them as onlookers watched the blade connect, but the anticipated grimace of pain did not materialize on Geralt's face. Instead, the bright flare of his Quen shield crackled and burst into shards of ethereal energy, its magic absorbing the brunt of the impact. The lightsaber made contact with the Witcher's side, but due to the potion imbued with adamantium, it resulted in a minor burn rather than a fatal wound.
Maul was taken aback, the feedback from the sudden shattering of the Quen shield throwing him off balance. The Sith Lord had not expected the blade to be repelled, especially not with such force. His yellow eyes flashed in surprise, then hardened with renewed determination.
Without missing a beat, Geralt leaped back into the fray, exploiting the temporary shock of his opponent. His hands moved fluidly, casting Aard to send a wave of telekinetic force at Maul, followed swiftly by Igni, a fiery arc aiming to sear the Sith Lord. Maul recovered just in time, his double-bladed lightsaber swirling to deflect the incoming attacks.
The battle raged on, Geralt alternating between offensive and defensive strategies, using his signs effectively to keep Maul on his toes. Both warriors exhibited astounding skills, their respective powers clashing in a spectacular display of raw combat. It was a relentless, pulse-pounding duel, each opponent equally matched and determined to outlast the other.
As their weapons clashed, Darth Maul decided to up the ante. In a display of sheer power, he summoned the dark side of the Force, intending to halt Geralt's attack mid-strike. The crowd watched in anticipation; a collective breath held as the two forces came to meet.
Yet, instead of the Witcher's attack being repelled, something unexpected happened. The sword Geralt was wielding, von Everec's blade, began to glow intensely. Like a beacon in the face of the dark side, it shone a brilliant red. To the onlookers, it was a stunning sight. To Maul, it was a new challenge.
And then it began to move. Slowly, painstakingly, the blade started to cut through the dark side energy that Maul was projecting. It was a sight to behold, a demonstration of power and resolve that had everyone transfixed. Like a hot knife through butter, or more accurately, like a determined sword cutting through thick, dark mud.
Maul strained, his focus intent on the blade, exerting more energy to reinforce his defense. But Geralt's blade was unyielding, steadily pushing through the dark side barrier. The tension in the air was palpable, the outcome of this power struggle determining the course of the duel.
With a decisive kick, Maul launched Geralt backwards, breaking the tension of their standoff. An expression of unmistakable admiration took hold in his yellow eyes, an appreciation for the unique challenge the Witcher posed.
His curiosity piqued, Maul decided to try one final tactic before making his next move. He threw his hand forward, releasing a blast of Force lightning. The electricity crackled through the air, a web of blue and white energy lunging at Geralt. But the Witcher stood his ground. Thanks to the Stormward potion he had consumed earlier, the lightning danced harmlessly around him, not so much as singeing his clothes.
The sight seemed to confirm something for Maul. He watched the display for a moment before he abruptly cut off the stream of energy. His lightsaber was deactivated, its red-light extinguishing.
"Most superb," he commented, his voice carrying a note of respect. "You are a unique individual, and a worthy foe."
For a moment he was deep in thought.
With a final look of respect cast Geralt's way, Maul formally conceded the match. He lowered his weapon, the crimson glow of his lightsaber retreating back into the handle. The threatening hum of the weapon cut off, replaced by the distant, ambient noise of Titan's daily hustle.
"Fairly done," he acknowledged, his tone carrying an element of surprise and respect. His piercing yellow eyes locked onto Geralt's for a moment. "I have underestimated you... you are indeed a worthy adversary. You have my word. The child," he inclined his horned head towards Grogu, "is no longer of my concern."
His promise echoed in the silent space between them, a binding pledge that brought an unusual sense of relief. This was Darth Maul they were dealing with, after all - a Sith Lord. His reputation was notorious across the galaxy, but here he was, sticking to his word. His abrupt departure left the group in a stunned silence, watching as the horned figure retreated, melting into the throngs of people milling about the busy cityscape of Titan.
As the adrenaline began to ebb, the crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed, and life in the city slowly started to regain its regular rhythm. The group found themselves standing in the midst of the fading excitement, the echoes of the duel still resonating in the air. A palpable sense of relief washed over them. They had gone up against a Sith Lord and emerged victorious, successfully safeguarding the life of young Grogu. The threat of Darth Maul, for now, had been effectively abated.
Not long after the dramatic confrontation, the group made contact with S.H.I.E.L.D., relaying the details of the unexpected events that had taken place on Titan. Within the safety of their landed ship, Mando gave a detailed account of their run-in with Darth Maul, the Sith Lord who had come out of nowhere with a singular focus on Grogu.
"See, Sith are dark side users," Mando began, a shadow darkening his face as he recalled the imposing figure of Maul. "The Force flows through all living things, and the Sith... they twist it, corrupt it. They seek power at all costs."
His gaze landed on Grogu, the young alien creature who had become like a son to him. "Grogu here is a Force-sensitive being. He's got the potential to become a Jedi, the sworn enemies of the Sith. That's why Maul was so interested in him."
Meg, Disney's Hercules, Jon Snow, and Arya listened attentively, each digesting this new information in their own way. They had all faced down their share of villains and threats, but Sith were new, even to them. The conversation was a stark reminder of the wide and dangerous universe they had become a part of.
S.H.I.E.L.D. promised to look into the matter immediately, their voices firm and resolute over the communication device. They also assured the group they'd take care of the portal, making sure no one else comes through and it's properly monitored.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, after digesting Mando's explanation about Sith and the Force, shifted gears to the more pragmatic aspects of their situation. "You've seen firsthand the beings and the forces at play in your universe," the agent began, tone all business. "If we have agents entering this portal again, or if we have more people coming through from your side, what can we expect? Can you give us some idea of the resources you have, and the possible threats we might face?"
Mando thought for a moment, gazing at Grogu who was now quietly dozing in his pod. He considered the diverse landscapes and species he'd encountered in his travels, the constant threats and challenges, and the few safe havens he'd come across. "The universe out there is vast and varied," he started, his voice low. "You'll find all sorts of beings, from harmless to highly dangerous. Some planets are highly advanced technologically, others are still stuck in their own versions of your Middle Ages."
"The Sith, like Maul, are some of the worst threats. But they're not the only ones. Bounty hunters, criminals, warring factions... the list goes on. As for resources, it varies too. My ship, the Razor Crest, is well-equipped for most situations. But not all out there have the same. And the Force... it's not something that can be easily understood or controlled. It's an energy field that binds the universe together, harnessed in different ways by different beings."
He looked towards Hercules and Meg. "And then there are worlds like theirs, with gods and magic, and unique challenges of their own."
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent took in Mando's words, his silence speaking volumes of the task ahead. Finally, he assured, "We'll take all of this into account. We have the best minds working on this, and we're prepared to adapt and deal with new situations. We'll keep the portal secure and continue to monitor any activity. And if there's any threat, we will be ready."
After their encounter with Darth Maul, the group began to make their way back to their respective vehicles. Mando led the way to his own ship, the distinctive Razor Crest, with Meg and Hercules trailing close behind, both newcomers to this level of technological advancement.
The Razor Crest was a pre-Empire ship, resilient and reliable, a symbol of Mando's solitary lifestyle. Upon seeing it, Hercules let out a low whistle, while Meg cast an appreciative glance over the well-maintained vessel. This was a far cry from the chariots and boats they were used to in their own world, yet the sense of adventure it represented was palpable.
As they climbed into the ship, Grogu immediately went to his favorite spot, his small hands reaching for the metal knob of the ship's control lever, his face lighting up as he started playing with it. It was a sight that always brought a touch of warmth to Mando's heart, even in the midst of such uncertainty.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group, including Thanos, Kratos, Fenrir, Geralt, Kirby, Sonic, and Wolverine, loaded into the waiting Quinjet. With a swift exchange of farewells and promises to stay in contact, both vehicles took off, heading towards Krakoa. The journey back promised to be filled with debriefing and planning, ready to face whatever their newly expanded universe would throw their way next.
…
Upon reaching the refuge of Krakoa, the team was warmly received by Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg - two formidable sorceresses from Geralt's universe. These enchantresses had accepted the responsibility of acquainting the newcomers with the current circumstances and assisting them in integrating into the Krakoa's everyday life.
With her vibrant auburn hair and nurturing demeanor, Triss, along with the raven-haired, commanding Yennefer, guided Meg, Mando, and Grogu towards a more peaceful corner of the bustling mutant sanctuary. The verdant surroundings bristled with life, creating a calming environment for the much-needed debriefing.
Their first interaction was with Meg. The Greek demigod Hercules, already somewhat accustomed to the Krakoa due to his previous brief stay, stood nearby, his protective gaze never wandering too far from Meg. The sorceresses clarified the current scenario - the existence of various universes and their united front on Krakoa to face any impending threats. They expounded on the unique features of each universe - its own set of rules, physical laws, creatures, and even gods. Hercules, familiar with Triss, a friend of Geralt, and Yennefer, Geralt's lover, offered insightful inquiries while Meg listened with genuine interest, her intelligent mind soaking up the information.
Their attention then turned to Mando, the armored figure whose reputation had reached even their ears. As a gesture of reciprocation for their enlightening insights, he unveiled the secrets of his own universe - tales of galaxies far, far away, the existence of the Force, Jedi, Sith, and his precious ward, Grogu. The green creature watched the discussion unfold with his large, inquisitive eyes, intermittently cooing and reaching out towards the mystical women.
The informative session continued for some time, allowing everyone to gain an understanding of each other's universe. Gradually, the newcomers started to feel more comfortable in their newfound sanctuary. They realized that, for the time being, they had a secure place to recuperate and brace themselves for the next challenges the multiverse had in store for them.
Relaxation, a commodity all too rare in their line of work, finally found its way to Mando after the day's strange encounters. Finding a quiet spot on Krakoa, he leaned back, joining Logan, Logan2, Logan3, Metal Arm Logan, and Laura. The atmosphere was one of camaraderie, a band of warriors united by strange circumstances and common goals. Logan2, Ciri's companion, engaged in hushed conversation with the Witcher herself, a warmth in their interactions that hadn't been there before.
At the same time, Laura cradled her son, Orion, who playfully clutched a blue monolith-like object. The artifact, seemingly benign, caught Grogu's attention. The tiny alien could sense an extraordinary force from it, a power vast and profound. His large eyes widened, and he pointed at it, cooing with palpable curiosity.
The reading on Mando's device was spiking alarmingly, numbers and scales escalating beyond comprehension. His eyes flicked from the readings to the child and back again, a grim realization dawning on him. The power inside that little artifact and Orion was beyond anything he had ever experienced. It was a power that far exceeded the yield of a warp engine, a cornerstone of interstellar travel in his galaxy. The contemplative silence filled the air, everyone acknowledging the implications of the massive energy signature. The chilling thought of what this power could do, left unchecked, hung over them all.
A moment of silence stretched on, filled only by the soft sounds of Krakoa's wildlife in the distance, before Laura decided to break it.
"Orion's sister, Aurora, did something similar not too long ago," she began, her voice casual, as if discussing a playdate rather than world-altering power. "She just waved her pink monolith around, like it was a toy. I suppose it shouldn't be surprising. Their father, Derreck, is not exactly an ordinary man."
A hint of a smile played on her lips, the expression far from boasting yet still carrying an undeniable sense of pride.
"In one hit, Derreck can shake an entire universe, down to every last pantheon in it," she continued. "He can shake them to their very foundations."
She paused, looking down at Orion playing with the monolith, the infant's fascination apparent in his wide, curious eyes.
"And, it seems, his children have inherited a part of that power," she concluded, her gaze softening as she watched Orion, the enormity of his inherited potential now a shared secret amongst the group.
This wasn't a warning, nor a boast; it was a statement of fact. And with that statement, the atmosphere changed subtly, the burden of knowledge settling down around them all, binding them together further in this strange, shared experience.
Mando's brow furrowed beneath his helmet as he processed Laura's words. He glanced from Orion to the assembled Logans, a moment of silence stretching out as he seemed to be wrestling with the implications of what he'd just heard.
Finally, he shook his head and chuckled, a dry sound that echoed slightly inside his helmet. "You're joking, right?" He asked, incredulity seeping into his voice.
The assembled Logans exchanged glances before shaking their heads simultaneously, their expressions serious.
"Nope," Logan2 replied, his voice a gravelly echo of the original Logan's.
"We wish we were," Logan3 added, an undercurrent of resignation in his tone.
The Logan with the metal arm merely grunted in affirmation, leaving no room for further doubt.
Mando leaned back in his seat, his gaze shifting to Orion who was still obliviously playing with his blue monolith. The enormity of the child's potential hit him all at once, adding yet another layer of complexity to this strange, new world they found themselves in.
Yennefer's hand gently rested on her gradually rounding belly, her face a mix of joy and curiosity as she explored the new sensations that her pregnancy had brought. Beside her, Geralt led her towards one of the many pop-up eateries that had sprung up around Krakoa, all catering to the diverse tastes of the island's inhabitants.
As they approached one such eatery, the smell of freshly baked pizza wafted through the air, carried over from the stall run by Mario, the cheerful Italian plumber turned culinary maestro in their group. The scent made Yennefer's stomach growl in anticipation, her newfound cravings kicking in.
"Geralt," she began, her voice carrying an odd note of eagerness, "do you have any mandrake root in your pouch? Maybe some hellebore? Or even a little verbena?"
Caught off guard, Geralt blinked in surprise. "For a pizza?" he queried, his brows furrowed in amusement.
With a shrug, Yennefer replied, "Why not? I've found myself craving the most unusual combinations these days."
Chuckling at her whimsical desires, Geralt rummaged through his Witcher satchel, pulling out the requested herbs. Spreading them carefully over a slice, he handed the concoction to Yennefer who accepted it with an appreciative smile. Using her magical abilities, she infused the herbs into the pizza slice, savoring the burst of flavors that the combination brought.
In the wild landscape of Krakoa, the Witcher's bag of herbs had found yet another unusual use – to satisfy the peculiar cravings of an expectant sorceress.