Chapter 52: The Legend of the Phoenix
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Chapter SUMMARY: Max continues to grieve Kaleb in his own little way. He notices key changes his cousin's death has altered within him.
As he meets with higher beings and enters a city of witches and vampires in mist of an ongoing cold war, he must make himself known or risk going an irritation rampage...
This is going to be a pretty long chapter. Sorry, it is also kind of late as well. Still, enjoy ;)
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[Maximus Westphall-Bennett POV]:
Max stayed in meditation format for what felt like hours, his superior intuition guiding him to look inward, to focus on the makeup of his phoenix physique.
He wasn't exactly sure what exactly he was looking for, but he knew he would find it when he saw it. It was one of those things that he would know it when he sees. An instinct. An urge. A calling. A fact that was built into his very genes.
And so he focused. And focused. And focused.
And, like that, he found it!
It was the 5th hour of meditation that he figured it out, though he wasn't keeping count. And it was sudden, too. One minute, he remained meditating on the floor of some inexpensive motel, the next he was floating above the clouds to a night starry sky so vast, it made Earth's night sky look like a sandbox.
And, floating right before Max, was the biggest bird Max had ever seen. It was easily the size of a two story house, with feathers made orange flames, eyes made of blue flames and a sharp beak that seemed highly dangerous and razor sharp. Its talons were the size of doors and its presence felt awfully familiar to the elemental magic spirits Max had met prior (Please Refer to Ch. 15.).
'A higher being,' Max thought in awe. 'Not just any higher being... But the conceptual essence of the phoenix itself.'
"You Have Come To Assimilate Me, Have You Not?" The phoenix spoke without moving its beak or producing words somehow.
Max paused a moment, deciding how to answer the question without turning to ash. He knew instinctively that a conceptual being was someone that could obliterate worlds with a single glance. They were the epitome of the species they belonged to—concepts made flesh. And, like the 7 elemental spirits that conceptualized witch magics, this single being conceptualized the legend of the phoenix in its entirety.
In the end, Max decided to just tell the truth. His instincts told him this was the right choice—And he's survived this long listening to them, he wasn't going stop listening to them now.
Plus, this was a higher being—A Concept. He figured they probably already knew his plan—Or, at least, knew enough of it, anyway.
"I am," Max answered, boldly, surprising the giant flaming turkey with his honesty. "Will you let me?"
The phoenix narrowed its eyes, clearly considering Max like one would consider what clothes they'd wear for the day.
"You know," the bird began turning to look at something in the distance that even Max, with his Rune of Awareness, couldn't perceive. "Before that abomination was created by the witches, werewolves and vampires, phoenixes were everywhere. Our domain of the Heavens were absolute. And not just on Earth, but on countless worlds... Too bad that mud-monster can step between space to reach his victims. And what is Space but a greater aspect of air? For even while our fire burned bright, numerous and supreme over the Heavens, with air to fan our flames, it only took one atrocious monstrosity with the space element to end my childrens' flames..."
Max stayed silent as he absorbed what he had just learned. To think that Malivore was even more monstrous than he had initially given him credit for, Max was impressed by his oversight.
'Perhaps I should handle Malivore after my handling of Inadu...?' Max pondered, already scheming. 'Maybe I could repopulate my dimension even more with the monsters he consumed…? That's not a bad idea, honestly…. And it would give my domain a much larger gene pool to pro-create with…Not that I don't already have a significantly one already. But first…'.
Max tuned back in to the phoenix , who had paused in his musings, choosing instead to fix Max with a studious gaze, clearly noticing Maximus being distracted by his own thoughts. But he didn;t seem annoyed — Or pissed.
If anything, Max would say he seemed almost amused.
"Are you done scheming, little one?" A twinkle of clear, undeniable amusement glinted in the bird's eye as Max realised he'd been busted. "You know, most would appreciate being in the presence of a higher-existence. I know for a fact that your other brothers and sisters would kill for the honor to be in my presence, the Progenitor of Phoenixes."
The phoenix fixed Max with a somehow even more amused expression, if that were possible. "You, however, don't seem to share that excitement."
It wasn't barbed or sharp or meant to verbally injure, Max noticed. It was just an observation the oversized bird made.
'Still,' Max internally tilted his head in consternation. 'It warranted apology from my end.'
"I-apo—" Max began, but the bird cut him off.
"Please, you have nothing to apologize about. You are my child, young and foolish and still learning. I hold nothing against you," the phoenix was surprisingly chill. "Even if I have no idea how a child of mine could still naturally exist in the mortal realm, and as a wolf and witch, of all things... You are still mine."
A beat of silence passed between them as the phoenix studied Max one last time.
Then, to Max's astonishment, its bowed its head in surrender. It began to glow brightly as if a mythical golden particles began dissolving to particles.
"We phoenixes were gifted with eternal life, yet our numbers are so low now that we're practically extinct. We once ruled the Heaven domain, yet now we are just barely existing. Our concepts may live forever as may our flames. Perhaps now, I may transfer that burden unto the next generation," the phoenix was almost completely consumed by its own fire. "The time for my age is at an end. With you, I burden thy— Reclaim our glory. Reconquer the skies. Rebuild our peoples. That is my final request of you, my child."
"It will be a request I'll gladly accept," Max bowed his head in genuine respect. He meant every word, for once without any form of malicious nor mischievous intent. "It will be done."
"Then I am glad to gift you my power. My essence. My concepts. My being.," the phoenix's words sounded despite its mouth having ceased its existence. "You are now the progenitor. You are now the concepts. You are now the fire. Farewell."
And with that, all of the bird became a floating ball of fire that crashed into Maximus with the force of the cosmos.
Countless eras entered his mind, knowledge—great and forbidden—rewrote his genetics. Visions of phoenixes, firebirds and firehawks took over his spirit of time immemorial where the three species of phoenixes dominated the skies in countless worlds.
He saw the rise and fall of civilizations unknown. The lives of the forgotten and the hidden secrets of the known. He dreamed of fire and ash and rebirth.
And, when it was over, and he sat in his motel room, alone, opening his eyes to morning streaming in through the cheap pastel blinds. And, as he digested everything, a single tear fell from his eye, leaving a trail of a tear down his cheek.
For he knew the truth.
He looked into the Void and saw the Sun, and it was too great and magnificent to ever forget.
In a dark dimension with a red moon, a small city of cloaked, hooded figures lay unconscious in and around a temple, inside the temple and, basically, all throughout the dimension.
They were frozen and still, and trapped in prisons of their own mental making.
For what Max affected them with, were conceptual affectors, which, in comparison, could've affected a whole planet of Kryptonians powered by a yellow star from birth.
Every being in this dimension was affected. From the grunts in un-numbered cloaks to the higher members in the top 30 were unable to fight it.
The one possessing a #1 on his cloak, however, was the exception.
Yes, he was affected. Yes, he was infected. And yes, he was cursed.
But he could still stand. He was sweaty and fevered, but his gaze wasn't distracted, weakened or shaken.
He was confused.
This was #1. The strongest transmigrator in the end of the Omniverse.
For perspective, if Max were to face him now, even with his newly acquired upgrade, without a doubt, Max would lose.
"A conceptual-level curse amplified by a conceptualised fever through psionics..." the hooded figure in blue and gold spoke. "A gifted transmigrator, this Maximus is... I cannot wait to meet him."
As he looked out his platform from atop the highest point of the highest temple in a sea of temples, nothing finally could be seen from this stranger, but an aura that would have made gods tremble came from his eyes—green twin glowing orbs beneath a hooded cloak.
He looked out at his lesser, planning to wait until this affliction passes before striking.
Not because he couldn't do it now and win, but because doing so—descending into Earth—would kill every living creature on the planet.
That is the power of Max's curse paired with his psionic capabilities.
"The affliction doesn't truly affect me, but I am still infected. Any human who breathe the same air as me would die instantly," the being muttered. "It's nothing to dispel myself, but I am currently spending most of my power keeping the Gods in slumber. Not just the young god, Ken, but, also, his superiors as well with my power alone.
"And I don't really want to kill the life of this world just to start anew. That would be draining and a waste of time."
A dark chuckle echoed its way from deep within Number One.
"Well played, well played, Maximus," the figure laughed. "You knew I wouldn't have wanted to restart 3 millennia worth of hard work —or maybe your instinct caught onto it. Either way, you're playing a game."
He suddenly stopped his laughter.
"Unfortunately for you, you're playing with a veteran," the figure's glowing green eyes narrowed from the darkness of his cloak. "And I don't play to lose, or for fun. When we meet, I will crush you. And that harem of men you seem to collect so vulgariously will fall just the same
"Enjoy everything while you can, Maximus. Your time is ticking. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick."
A mad laughter sounded through the darkness that was this dimension, as a promise was made that may end up being Maximus' undoing.
[Maximus Westphall-Bennett POV]:
As Max walked the streets of New Orleans alone, he couldn't help but marvel at the architecture. The buildings, the vibes. Hell, even some of the pedestrians looked like candy—for humans, anyway.
It was a bit loud and people-y, and definitely not a place Max would move to with an on-going quiet war with the witches and vampires—
But even he couldn't deny the uniqueness of French Quarter culture.
As he walked, however, his Rune of Awareness alerted him to a squadron of vampires that had been tailing him since his entrance into the Quarter.
'Five idiots just lining themselves up to die,' Max thought, annoyed. 'Kaleb's death seems to have removed my joy of toying with my prey. Perhaps I should just ensure I am not disturbed by these measly mosquitos by going directly to the top? Marcel should do fine, won't he?'
[Marcel Gerard POV]:
Marcel stood to the side of the courtyard, as he watched a small crowd gather around two of his vampires sparring. It was two vampires that he turned himself—Thierry Vanchure and Diego, his 2nd and 3rd in command.
They were both blurs of movement and easily fun to watch combat one another.
Diego—the one with the afro—was the more aggressive of the two, likely also the more physically superior. He threw right after right, left after left. He fought like Thierry owed him money, his collisions loud and crack-prone.
Thierry was quicker and smarter. Dodging fists like he had all the time in the world to do so. He even managed to get some of his own. If Diego was heavy handed and stronger, then Theirry was faster and quicker with his hits, making up in speed what he lacked in physical power.
As it seemed all vampires in the Quarter were watching, however, something occurred.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
It was a knock on the door that most turned out. Marcel even turned it out. He figured the CLOSED sign would be enough to deter whoever wanted entry, and, if it wasn't, the lack of an answer would.
Of course, that was a mistake. Because the next moment—
BOOOM!
A loud crash broke through the music as a door was shoved off its hinges. The front door.
This briefly surprised the vampires present, as all of them looked to the entrance to see a young man, no older than 16, with dark brown-autumn hair, a supernaturally beautiful face and dressed in an open grey and white flannel, amulets around the neck, a wrist of charms bracelets, grey jeans, black leather boots and a silver bolt chain to the loop.
His beauty stunned all—male and female—and was almost enough to distract everyone from the temporarily dead, oddly angled necks of five daylight vampires floating directly behind him.
"Why, hello there," the young witch grinned brightly, waving at the gathered vampires. And, with a nod of his head, the five bodies landed evenly spaced out before a stunned Marcel. "These 5 vamps have been tailing me since I came into town this morning. I won't permanently kill them unless they keep invading my privacy. Keep your vamps on a leash, Marcellus Gerard, or your entire court of vampires will cease. Let a witch mourn in peace, won't you."
Marcel's eyes narrowed as he registered the threat. He knew a powerful witch when he saw one—And this one had power.
'Enough to barge into the heart of vampire power and openly challenge my entire community,' Marcel thought. 'Not one I should antagonize. He's clearly from out of town. Perhaps I should—'
But Marcel didn't get to finish that thought before Diego snarled, "Witch!" and dashed forward before Marcel could stop him.
"They never learn," Max's words, whispered with a sigh, registered to every vampire's ears before he acted. His muscles expanded. His frame lengthened. And his form shifted. All within the pico of a second, but the evidence?
He transformed into a great, black wolf, startling every vampire present—even Marcel, who had become paralyzed with shock. 'He's a werewolf, too? What kind of werewolf can control their shift? Let alone, one this big?'
Diego seemed to only register his target's new form before he was flung across the yard, through a window, through a series of walls, and into solid concrete with a thud.
By the time Max turned back into his human form, fully dressed and clothed like he didn't just ragdoll an apex predator, Marcel had only then fully registered everything.
"Keep your people off of me, or I'll give your vamps the werewolf bite," Max said directly to Marcel, who nodded after a beat. "Now I've got witches to meet with and a few things to do, and I'll be out of your hair. Don't piss me off until then and all French Quarter vampires will survive the day."
With that, the stranger walked away, clearly done.
It took Marcel a minute to fully process everything—And when he finally did, he ordered his men to check on Diego.
"What a scary guy..." Marcel thought before joining the search for Diego.
King he may be, he wasn't insane. After checking on his 3rd in command, he issued the order to stay away from a certain witch to the patrolling vampires — And any other of his guys who may be out. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off a witch-werewolf hybrid who possessed that level of terrifying power...
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PS: The multiverse arc is still upcoming, so please be patient. Also, all comments and review are read by your truly, so feel free to leave them. What do you think about the phoenix concept? Pretty cool, right? Trust me, this will come in handy in the multiverse arc, lol!
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A/N: What do you think of the chapter? Let me know in the comments. Reviews are nice — On WebNovel or AO3. Please leave them. They help me reach a greater audience and encourage me to continue the work. Thanks XD!
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