The Shadow Monarch In The Marvel World

'Who is he?' I thought, staring at the man cloaked in darkness. It was strange. As a being with a unique connection to both life and death, I understood his essence. When he appeared before my host, I felt something dark, something more primordial, more absolute. His authority and potential didn't just touch upon death; they resonated with something far greater… something beyond death itself… it reached into Oblivion.

What was Oblivion? The Void. The end of all things. Nothingness incarnate. Among the cosmic abstracts, Oblivion was considered the third strongest, second only to its direct counterpart. But under the right conditions, when creation teetered too far into its grasp, Oblivion was unrivaled. It was then that it became the strongest force of all.

Was Jean Grey a good host? Yes, she was perfect, perhaps the best host I had ever bonded with. But this man shrouded in shadows… he was something else entirely. He went beyond perfection. The destruction we could unleash together, the power we could wield, it was beyond anything else I could hope for… But I didn't even have time to dwell on the thought.

A shadow, its head unnaturally large, appeared within Jean's mental world and launched a relentless assault against me. A battle of mental wills erupted, and to my surprise, I found myself overwhelmed. It wasn't just the raw power behind its attacks but the presence I felt within the shadow itself. A familiar presence. Charles.

The same mortal who had once suppressed me deep within Jean's mind. The same human who had fought me to a standstill, until Jean had stepped in and tipped the scales. And now, even in death, he had returned, stronger than ever.

This time, even with Jean Grey and I working together, we were utterly powerless against this fused being. No matter how hard we fought, we were helpless. What made it worse was that this shadow wasn't even focused entirely on us. It had the audacity to split its attention elsewhere, effortlessly multitasking while crushing us under its overwhelming might.

In the end, I had no choice but to retreat, forced into dormancy within Jean Grey's half-dead body, watching in silent fury as the being who commanded these shadows stood victorious.

But that fury quickly turned to shock.

When the one called Ashborn commanded the shadows to rise, the former zombies obeyed… but they didn't just rise. They stood, far stronger than they had ever been in life.

Of course, in my eyes, they were still weak, mere ants compared to the greater forces of the universe. But that wasn't what disturbed me. It was something far more unnatural.

These shadows… they weren't just mindless puppets or hollow echoes of what they once were. No, they were nearly identical to their former selves, only enhanced in every way. Their durability, their strength, their minds, it was as if they had been reborn, reforged into something superior. And that was terrifying.

He didn't stop there. No, he moved on to Thor, the god I once saw as my son. Although, to a being of my stature, such attachments meant little. I held no motherly affection for Thor, yet I still watched over him in my own way.

But what truly shook me was what happened next.

I watched as he claimed the Mother Storm for himself, something I had never imagined possible. The very storm that Odin had sealed away, the raw, untamed force of destruction—it became his. As if that wasn't enough, the hammer itself fused with him, along with the runes that granted Thor his power.

Like the Void itself, he devoured everything, growing ever stronger. And for the first time in my existence… I felt something unfamiliar. A creeping, gnawing unease.

And yet, it still didn't stop there. Gladiator, Thor, Firelord, and most shockingly, Thanos, each one rose from death as his shadow.

Thanos. A being who stood just below the likes of Odin and the other gods of his tier. And on that tier, Odin stood at the peak. Thanos was no mere powerhouse; he was a force to be reckoned with, a warlord who had challenged cosmic entities and lived to tell the tale. For him to return, not just as a shadow, but far stronger than when he was alive, was terrifying.

This new Thanos wouldn't struggle against Galactus. No, he would stand against him as an equal, perhaps even emerge victorious.

But again… it didn't stop there.

Ashborn set his sights on Asgard, and to my horror, I realized the truth. Even the weakest of his shadows was thousands of times stronger than the average Asgardian. It was a massacre, a slaughter so absolute that even the proudest warriors fell with ease.

Even the rabbits were tearing through the fallen Asgardians as if they were nothing. It was a bloodbath.

But it didn't stop there. Franklin Richards clashed with Odin, and I thought this battle might draw the attention of someone who would intervene before the multiverse suffered any lasting damage. Yet, I quickly realized no such intervention would come, because it wasn't needed.

Ashborn killed Odin. Not only that, but he stole the Odin Force, growing even stronger.

If only it had ended there. But after ordering his shadows to spread across the universe, slaughtering every last zombie, he returned to the throne room, only to then come back to us… and then, to my horror, he reached out… and I floated helplessly into his palm. I was scared. I didn't want to be turned into a shadow.

"I thought about turning you into a shadow, but in the end, I've decided not to. You're free to do as you wish." Ashborn said, drawing out the corruption that had overtaken me.

I didn't hesitate—I burst from his grasp, my form expanding as I quickly reclaimed my power. Though still weakened by the state of this universe, I was whole once more.

Then, I turned to look at him… and what I saw left me stunned. His soul remained untouched. It wasn't overwhelmingly pure, like some noble-hearted hero, but it wasn't tainted either. It was balanced, neutral, in a way few beings ever were.

To absorb my corruption and remain unchanged… to wield such deep darkness without it consuming him…Who was this man?

"Something isn't right about you." The words escaped me before I could stop them. This man… he defied reason. But more than that, I felt an inexplicable pull toward him.

It wasn't just his power or his presence—it was something deeper. Without realizing it, I had been tracking his every movement, analyzing every action, every word. There was a weight to him, an aura that made everything he did seem more significant, more absolute.

"Nah, I just have a high affinity with the concept of darkness." He dismissed it with a casual shrug before meeting my gaze. "The name's Ashborn. Should I call you Phoenix?"

Then, he removed his helmet. And I froze.

Through all that darkness, beneath the overwhelming power that cloaked him, lay a face… a face so striking that, for the first time in my existence, I felt as though my nonexistent heart had skipped a beat.

He was beautiful.

For a moment, I was completely stunned, unable to look away. It was as if the very concept of beauty had been redefined before my eyes. And before I even realized it, words began slipping from my lips—questions, probing, searching, trying to understand the man beneath the darkness.

For the first time in a long, long time… my nonexistent heartbeat for someone.