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Marvel MK: CH 122 – A Parliament of Gods
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 13:50:09 +0000 UTCJack Hou, still soaked in blood, walked toward the exit of the mansion with a purpose that bordered on a casual stroll. Behind him, Jean Grey, her face a mixture of awe, confusion, and lingering psychic exhaustion, hurried to keep up.
“Where are you taking her, Jack?” Professor Xavier’s voice was tight with concern, the wheels of his chair humming as he followed them into the foyer.
Before Jack could answer, a low growl came from the grand staircase. “You still don’t have a say in this team, Chuck,” Logan said, his voice a gravelly rumble. He leaned against the banister, his arms crossed. “Besides, Jack won’t do anything to her.”
Jack turned, his blood-soaked face breaking into a wide, delighted grin. His golden eyes twinkled, a sight made all the more comical by the streaks of dried blood on his cheeks. “Uuuww, Logan has a soft spot for me!”
Logan’s eye twitched. “Don’t push it, bub.”
“Okay, okay,” Jack said with a dismissive wave. He turned and, with a casualness that was almost insulting, pushed open the grand double doors of the mansion. The ancient oak, not designed for the casual application of divine strength, splintered from its hinges and crashed to the floor. Jack didn’t even look back. He just kept walking toward Zephyr.
His loyal cloud was slumped on the grass like a sad, deflated marshmallow. A group of the younger X-Men—Kurt Wagner, Samuel Guthrie, Gabriel Summers, and Tenzin—were gathered around it, poking it with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“Shoo, shoo,” Jack said, waving them away. “Uncle Jack needs to get back to Japan.” He knelt beside Zephyr, his expression softening for a moment. “Can you fly us back, buddy?”
Zephyr let out a weak, pathetic pulse of wind and sagged even further.
Jack sighed. 'I guess I’ll have to transform into the Phoenix this early, huh,' he thought.
But then, the air shimmered. A flash of brilliant, golden light, and a figure appeared before them. His beauty was off the charts, his golden hair messy in a way that looked effortlessly perfect, his presence radiating a warmth that melted the snow around his feet. It was Hermes.
“I can help you with the transport, Jack,” he said, his voice a melody.
Jack squinted, then his face lit up in recognition. “Santa! You came in your real form this time.”
Hermes’s gaze swept past Jack and landed on Jean. His playful expression softened into one of profound, ancient awe. “Ahh,” he breathed. “The host of the Phoenix Force.”
He walked toward her, his movements a dance of divine grace. He gently took her hand and brushed a soft kiss across her hair. “I have seen stars be born and galaxies die,” he whispered, his voice full of a reverence that made the air hum. “But I have never seen a fire burn as bright and as beautifully as the one that slumbers in your soul.”
“Alright, playboy, showtime’s over,” Jack cut in, his voice a sharp, pragmatic blade that shattered the divine moment. “Now bring us to Yao.”
Hermes turned, his divine composure returning. “Surely you jest. You want to pit the Phoenix Force host against Amatsu-Mikaboshi?” His tone was incredulous. “Need I remind you, Amatsu has never once chosen to grow with a host. He consumes. He is a force of unmaking. The Phoenix, for all her fire, is a force of rebirth. You don’t know what that combination will do to this realm!”
“Just do it, Goldilocks,” Jack said, his patience wearing thin. “By the way, you got your excuse written down for when Zeus inevitably sees your travel logs, right?”
Hermes’s lips curled into a confident, mischievous smile. “Shut up and focus. I don’t want to accidentally snap your neck while we’re breaking the sound barrier.”
“What?” Jean asked, her eyes wide.
But it was too late. Hermes placed a hand on the back of Jack’s head and another on Jean’s. And then, he ran.
They vanished. A gust of wind, the faint scent of blood from Jack, and a lingering, impossible scent of wildflowers from Hermes were the only proof they had ever been there.
Logan stood on the shattered porch, his claws slowly retracting. “Was that… Hermes? Like, the god?”
Beside him, John Proudstar, who had seen his fair share of impossible things, simply nodded. “I guess it was.”
Logan ran a hand through his hair, his mind struggling to process the last five minutes.
“What the fuck just happened?”
…
The battle in the ruined temple was a clash of divine titans. Susanoo, a whirlwind of storm and sea, met Amatsu’s chaotic energy with a joyful, brutal force. His every swing was a hurricane, his laughter a thunderclap. Amaterasu, in contrast, was a dance of pure, focused light. She moved with a celestial grace, her sun-spear striking with the precision of a surgeon, aiming to purify, to contain.
But the god-slaying Grasscutter was a deadly variable. Every time they got close, the Kusanagi would lash out, its dark energy forcing even the gods to recoil.
“How could Jack’s clones keep up with this pace?!” Amaterasu grunted, parrying a slash that left a hissing, black scar on her shield of light.
Susanoo laughed, his wild eyes gleaming. “He is more formidable than we thought! I would love to fight him when he becomes a full-fledged god!”
It was clear they were stronger, their divine forms more resilient, their techniques honed over eons. But unlike before, Amatsu was also getting stronger, feeding on the chaos, his power pouring into Alexander’s body fragment by fragment.
Meanwhile, in Yomi, Yao was desperately trying to sever the connection, to dam the river of oblivion flowing to Earth.
Then, in a flash of gold and the scent of wildflowers, Hermes arrived, depositing Jack and Jean in the middle of the battlefield.
“Okay,” Jack said, his voice cutting through the din of battle. He looked at Jean, his expression a strange mixture of manic glee and absolute seriousness. “You’re going to follow my lead. I’ll transform into the Phoenix, and you channel your real Phoenix Force into me. This is the only way for you to control it without it consuming you.”
From the edge of the fight, Yao, who had just arrived through his own portal, stared in disbelief. “Jack, are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained. “You will become marble once again.”
Jack turned to him, a wide, unhinged grin on his face. “Ah, Big Brother, who do you think you’re talking to right now? You think I was just mindlessly sleeping when I was turned to stone? I met a very interesting seller in my dreams. His sagely riddles made me realize something.”
“What did you realize?” Yao asked, his curiosity piqued even in the midst of the crisis.
“It’s my breakthrough,” Jack said with a wink. “I can’t just tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.”
Yao chuckled, a sound of weary relief. He could see that Jack, for all his madness, was pushing himself, evolving. “I will help you, then,” Yao declared, his hands already beginning to trace glowing sigils in the air. “A sorcerer’s energy has always been the key to the barriers of our world.”
One by one, golden portals tore open around them. From them stepped the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj. Wong, his face a mask of grim determination. Kaecilius, his eyes still holding a shadow of his past. And Mordo.
Jack’s eyes lit up. “Yoo, Mordo, my man!”
Mordo’s jaw tightened. “Behave yourself like the god you truly are.”
Jack smiled. “Oh, how I’ve missed my favorite punching bag. How have you been?”
Mordo just ignored him. Then, Jack saw her. Master Wright, the librarian, her expression as stern and unyielding as ever. He gave a slight, respectful bow. “Master Librarian.”
Yao looked at the assembled forces—the gods, the sorcerers, the monkey, and the girl who held the fire of a star. He turned to Jack, his voice a calm anchor in the storm.
“We are ready when you are, Jack.”
…
On Mount Olympus, Zeus’s good mood, which had been a rare and glorious thing, curdled the moment he saw Jack Hou arrive in Japan. But it wasn't the monkey that soured his disposition. It was the god who brought him. Hermes.
“He dares to lie to me?” Zeus’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble. “Tell me, am I growing senile, or did that boy say he was going to visit his mother?”
From the side, Ares, who had been silently fuming, saw his opening. “He did, Father,” he said, his voice laced with a smug satisfaction. “Your messenger just lied directly to you.”
Dionysus, swirling a goblet of nectar, waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, Father. Maybe he took a different route and got lost. It happens. The cosmos is a big place.”
“Let him be,” Artemis said, her voice as cool and sharp as a silver arrow. She gave a pointed side-eye to Ares. “At least some of us are capable of taking responsibility.”
Ares’s head snapped toward her. “Shut up, bitch,” he snarled.
“Curb your tongue, brother,” Apollo interjected, stepping between them, his golden aura flaring with protective anger. “I will not let you slander my twin sister with your brainless words.”
“ENOUGH!”
Zeus’s roar shook the very foundations of the mountain. The bickering gods fell silent.
Beside him, Poseidon, who had been watching the scene with a calm, oceanic detachment, finally spoke. “It all started when you told the other pantheons not to help, brother,” he said, his voice a quiet, powerful current. “Say what you will, but your daughter, Artemis, speaks the truth.”
Zeus turned to his brother, a low growl in his throat. “And what do you think you’re doing, brother? Are you saying you are better suited to lead Mount Olympus than me?”
“This quarrel will not change anything,” Athena’s voice cut through the tension, cool and clear as a mountain spring. “As much as I want to deny it, it was indeed foolish of us not to help with Amatsu’s sealing. Now we—”
But her speech was cut off. A new voice, clear and urgent, echoed from the shimmering surface of the Divine Scrying Pool. It was Hermes.
“Father, are you really not going to help?”
Hermes’s voice, clear and sharp, echoed from the Divine Scrying Pool, cutting through the self-satisfied chatter of Olympus. His image flickered, showing him standing amidst the chaos of Japan, his face a mask of grim determination.
“All of you Skyfathers,” he continued, his voice rising, no longer the playful messenger but a god passing judgment. “Are you all cowards, hiding behind lies that you crafted on your own? I can understand Uncle Hades and the other death gods not helping; their duty is not to meddle with the living. But all of you despise the monkey, saying he steals divine energy from the humans who should be worshiping you. Can you blame them?”
His voice grew louder, more passionate. “The monkey has been helping them, giving them freedom, when he could have just left! All of you have been dormant for so long that you’ve forgotten what makes this planet, what makes them, so special!”
He then stopped speaking. But his mouth kept moving, forming words in an obvious, deliberate fashion so the gods watching from every pantheon could read his lips.
“THE GREAT AGREEMENT WAS NEVER TO PROTECT THEM. IT WAS TO CAGE US.”
The words, though silent, hit the divine realms like a thunderclap. On Olympus, Zeus’s face went from fury to stunned disbelief. In the Jade Palace, the Emperor’s serene facade finally cracked. Across all the pantheons, a frantic, panicked scramble began as gods and goddesses were forced to reassess a truth they had long taken for granted.
…
Back in Japan, Jean, still waiting for Jack to begin his transformation, looked at Hermes, confused. “What did you say?”
“Ah, my lady,” Hermes said, his divine intensity softening as he turned to her. “You should not concern yourself with the ramblings of old gods.”
Just then, a burst of brilliant, golden feathers erupted from Jack’s arms.
Hermes’s expression turned to one of focused urgency. “Not now,” he said to Jean, his voice a low command. “Wait until he is fully formed.”
“But,” Jean said, her own power beginning to stir in response to Jack’s, “I thought he needed the Phoenix Force to transform.”
A slow, confident smile spread across Hermes’s face. “Not for the first stage,” he said. “He needs divine energy. And I can give him that.”
In a brilliant, blinding burst, Hermes unleashed his true power. A torrent of majestic, ancient energy, the color of a thousand sunsets, flowed from him and into Jack. The transformation accelerated, golden feathers sprouting from Jack’s skin, his form beginning to elongate, to shift, to burn with a light that was not his own.
Hermes gritted his teeth, the effort of channeling so much of his essence causing his divine form to flicker. He looked at Jean, his eyes blazing.
“Jean! Now is your turn!”
Jean’s eyes, once a soft, gentle green, ignited. They burned a deep, cosmic red, the color of a dying star. Unlike before, there was no scream, no loss of self. This time, she was in control. She reached out, not with her hands, but with her will, and a torrent of pure, raw Phoenix Force energy flowed from her, a river of fire that surged toward Jack.
At the same moment, the sorcerers moved as one. Mordo, Wong, Kaecilius, Master Wright, and all the others raised their hands, their voices a low, powerful chorus of ancient incantations. From their fingertips, the shimmering, red-orange light of their magic erupted, weaving together into a complex tapestry of protection charms and binding runes. The energy enveloped Jack’s transforming body, a second skin of pure, mystical power.
Around this nascent god, Yao flew, his hands a blur of motion. He was not just a conduit; he was a master craftsman, a divine sculptor. He gathered the chaotic, powerful energies of the sorcerers, shaping them, molding them, forging them into a suit of shimmering, translucent armor around Jack’s golden phoenix form. Intricate, glowing runic signs—symbols of protection, of power, of the very laws of the Vishanti—etched themselves across the surface of the armor.
In the midst of their own divine battle, Susanoo and Amaterasu paused, their attention captured by the impossible spectacle.
“Whoa,” Susanoo breathed, his usual wild grin replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated awe. “The monkey became a bird.”
Amaterasu’s gaze was sharper, more analytical. She saw not just a transformation, but the convergence of cosmic forces. “It’s not just a bird, brother,” she said, her voice a low, reverent whisper. “It is a phoenix, clad in the armor of the Vishanti’s energy.”
In the heart of the raging battlefield, a new god was forged.
Jack Hou was no longer a man. He was a celestial inferno given form, a Golden Phoenix whose wings of molten starlight stretched to blot out the sky. His body burned with the untamed, chaotic fire of a newborn sun.
And over this divine chaos, the sorcerers' magic coalesced. The shimmering, red-orange energy of the Vishanti wrapped around him, not to douse the flames, but to forge them. It formed a suit of ethereal, crystalline armor, its surface a living tapestry of glowing runic signs that pulsed with every beat of his fiery heart.
He was a paradox. A god of chaos wearing the armor of absolute order. A living supernova contained within a fortress of sacred law.
And as he turned his golden, avian eyes toward the cowering Chaos King, the world knew that the real battle had only just begun.
A/N: Hey there! Sorry for the delayed update. I just participated in a muay thai competition, and I was feeling pretty rough. Obviously, I lost ehe, but it was still a blast! It was a local event, so it was such a great experience. I hope the monkey king blesses me with a speedy recovery. Catch you later!
