Chapter Text
He had discovered early on that there was no efficient way to search the Universe.
At the very beginning, he had circled the nothingness in wider and wider arcs. In the few worlds that hosted sentient life, the beings he had found were wholly unremarkable.
They were too young.
Then he had decided to fly to the outer limits of the Universe in the hopes that the species that lived away from the nothingness would be more evolved.
Time moved against him, it seemed.
The civilizations he had found were either on the brink of complete extinction or actively making their way there.
When he found life, that is.
A few planets that he had seen were barren. They were covered with marks of destruction more thorough than anything he had ever done. The energy he had perceived when he had inspected the remains had told him it was the work of the Celestials. This had been done before Galactus’s demise, then.
He wondered what kind of being could have existed on those planets.
What form of life could be deemed threatening enough that it’s destruction could be seen as necessary.
He had known a few celestials when his Arcturans were discovering the concepts of cities. All of them were fair in their judgements.
Now, he glided on the cosmic winds from world to world. If there was anything to find, he would end up finding it one day.
He was currently exploring a galaxy populated with reptilians species. These had interesting potential: scaled skin, fanged mouth, heath-sensitive organs, eyes that could see as long as there was light.
One breed even had the ability to shift its appearance with no noticeable limit.
Those called themselves Skrulls.
After observing them, he had carefully noted the location of their world before resuming his search.
Those were the most promising bipeds he had found since he had visited Arcturus and had seen half the cities filled with mutants.
In-between these two worlds, he had found some note-worthy species:
The Kree: remarquably strong and intelligent.
The Shi’ar: they possessed wings.
The Centaurians: empaths who could sometimes control others
He had also seen some much more interesting species in the worlds cradled by The-Void-that-is-Yggdrasil. He had not dared approach them however, because the equilibrium of The-Void-that-is-Yggdrasil is extremely delicate and he feared that his mere presence might upset it and cause the destruction of many worlds.
He regretted not trying to find a way to navigate it.
Now he was stuck observing each world he came across, hoping that maybe on this one there would be something truly interesting.
Something worthy of the Hawk God.
The solar system in front of him only had one planet with life. It’s orbit was perfect for the evolution of living beings, like many others he had seen before. Those tended to yield the most common and frail sentient species.
He flapped his wings a few times to clear the outer planets and then let himself glide. When he felt the itch of the magnetic shield, he used the little trick he had learned in his travel: by making some of the cosmic power he was made of radiate through his skin, he could disrupt the sight of machines and organic beings alike and avoid being seen while he observed.
That is how he learned that this world was referred to as Sirus and its inhabitant Sirusites. They were a female-ruled people whose laws originated from the interpretation the religious leaders had pulled out of the actions of their One-God. He heavily doubted that their belief had ever been strong enough to create one like him and yet he could feel faint amount of power coming from the planet.
A celestial had probably been by and had made itself known to the ancestors of those people.
With some luck there would be a statue in the main worship place so he could try to recognize which one it had been. With some more luck the more interesting specimens of this specie would be close to the source of the cosmic power he felt.
The odds were in his favor, it seemed: the principal temple was carved in a mountain far enough from the cities that he could effortlessly move around without altering his form. It was made of great open hollowed antechambers with one closed Sacred hall in the center to hide the representation of the One-God from the general populace.
Of course.
The cosmic power itself was not coming from the Sacred hall so there would be no need for destruction. It was coming from under the temple, from what he assumed was a secret installation since it was in the opposite direction from the statue. It also did not feel like the remnant-trace of a celestial. It felt organic. Alive.
It was a very good thing that as a God he did not need either rest or sustenance. His search of the entrance of the hidden installation would have been tedious otherwise.
It turned out that all his observing of the religious personnel had been pointless: the installation was unknown to them. From what he could see, only four males knew of it. It had intrigued him, that it was males that operated there when the population was so clearly dominated by the females.
No males could be allowed to be this close to the most sacred temple.
Nothing legal could have been built below the temple.
Nothing had ever held such promise in his search.
Anticipation and excitement thrummed in him as he forced hid body to shrink. From just below his shoulder, the mountain rose until he could barely distinguish the top of it. His Arcturans had made him great. Only now did he realize how small the mortals that populated the All truly were.
It was no wonder he could wreck such damage on their construction with such ease.
He could hardly wait to see the source of the living power he felt. In fact, he only had to climb to the disguised entrance of the facility and wait for one of the male to come out for his daily smoke. Then it would be a simple matter of getting him to rejoin the others and to talk about their project.
Anytime now, the sun was rising.
Light was a few minutes from reaching the entrance when it slid open with a discreet rumble. The male emerged and took his usual seat. Leaning against the mountainside by the entrance, the Hawk God observed him more closely: he was bald with a trimmed strip of beard running along his jaw. He did not appear old but had enough surplus weight that he would not enjoy as long a life as his brethren.
When the male rose and headed to the entrance, the Hawk God made himself visible.
The mortal startled and opened his mouth but no sound came out: his mind was unnaturally calm, his eyes could not escape those of the god in front of him.
“You went outside to smoke as you usually do. Everything was normal. While watching the sunrise, you thought of your work and felt the need to review everything with the others to ensure all is well.”
It took a moment for the mortal’s mind to process the compulsion, as it was a complex one. While his eyes were blurred, the Hawk God removed his hand from the crown of the mortal’s head, stepped aside and made himself invisible once more.
After a moment, the male sirusite blinked, shook his head, looked around and headed back inside. The Hawk God followed him closely, a pleased smile on his face.
The moment the hidden door closed, the lights lining the long hallway turned on, illuminating them as they walked deeper inside the mountain.
This was it.
Eventually, after crossing a few other hallways, they reached a wide common room where the three other males were having their first meal of the day. They greeted their colleague enthusiastically:
“Took your time this morning!”
“Yeah, are you trying to slow us down, mister deadlines?”
“Well, not really. It’s more that I would like to review everything to be sure the deadlines will be respected.”
That declaration was received with a chorus of pained , long-suffering groans.
The fourth sirusite, the one who hadn’t had the chance to speak yet, added: “I told you guys he was going to do that soon! He’s the only one who hadn’t had his turn yet!”
“Well, if you’re so unbothered why don’t you start?”
“Might as well. So, when we last conferred like this, the subject had reached the size of a one year old child. It has now developed to be the equivalent of a ten years old child in perfect health. The project can continue without any changes from a strictly biological point of view.”
“All right, my turn. The machines have not had any other incident and the new equipment is ready to be used as soon as needed. It had been tested on the failed subjects and the result clearly show that the rest of the operations will be successful.”
“Hey, I’m not the last one this time! So, on my side of things, I can say that the genome it regular and stable throughout all the tissue sample. I don’t foresee any complication so everything can keep going until we finally reach the adult stage.”
“Excellent! As for me, all the elements required for the next part are created, stable and ready to use. If everything goes as planned, we will have a mature specimen in two weeks’ time!”
“In two weeks’ time, we will be able to start the conditioning and then, this planet will be ours!”
More was said, but the Hawk God did not hear it.
The moment he had understood what those scientist were doing he had left the room in search of the source of cosmic power had felt from the outer atmosphere of the planet.
The living cosmic power.
Emanating from a bioengineered form of life.
His future body.
The chamber in which the being floated was placed in the middle of a great cavern. Equipment littered the floor, covered the walls, hung from overarching structures. Here, in this gigantic room, the greatest technological advancements of this planet were displayed, ready for use.
Ready to create life.
A child that is without a family.
Alive, healthy, without a mind completely of its own.
A near-feral grin appear on his face.
Optimal reality indeed.
In two weeks’ time he will discover what are the abilities of this new creature. And when another one will be made, he will take it and bring it back.
A clamor of voices drag his attention to the door he had passed earlier. The four scientist enter and spread to their respective stations, their excitement almost tangible around him.
He lean against a machine close-by, observing their every actions.
Should this fail, he would be able to reproduce the experiment.
The days go by, with the scientist less and less able to sleep from all the excitement. In his chamber the being, a male, keeps growing. He is not as tall as his creators nor does he have their physique but his golden skin is marker enough of his genetic perfection.
When two weeks exactly have gone by the scientists line behind the main console, back straight in anticipation and clothed in their finest garments.
Slowly, the chamber is elevated.
The transparent vat is emptied of it’s liquid.
The floor of the vat is removed. The male lay on it, immobile, curled up like a fetus.
No one moves until he takes his first breath.
The moment his abdomen start moving regularly, the male in charge of the biology steps forward with shaking hands. Slowly, he climb the steps to the platform, extend his hand to search for a pulse.
When he makes contact his creation startle, leaning back on an elbow with eyes open wide and breath coming fast. His blond hair, as coated as his body by the thick liquid that had hosted him, hang limply under his head.
The scientist retract his hand and tilt his head, observing.
In front of him, the newborn rise on wobbly legs. He observe the four males in front of him and look at himself. He looks at them once more and scrunches his eyebrows.
The Hawk God feels the change: the molecules of the liquid and the air around it change, rearrange themselves. Suddenly, clothing as fine as the Sirusite’s appear on him. Finer, even.
While the mortals are busy gaping at this feat, the godling jump off the platform he had been on and makes his way to a nearby staircase. Just as he is about to step on the first step, one of the scientist speaks up.
“Him! Don’t go up there, it’s dangerous.”
Him, it seems to be the creature’s name, put his feet back next to the other one. He then look up the wall to where he wishes to go.
And then he is flying.
While it is not the exact same type of flying that the Hawk God uses, it is similar enough. The godling is obviously lacking wings so he has no mean of propulsion other than the cosmic power inside of him. That is what he use to force the gravity of the planet to disappear and fluctuate around him, giving him good control on the direction and speed of his flight.
Finally, after weaving carefully around various component of machinery, he reaches his goal: the main power cells that have been providing the energy for the vat he had been created in.
Him seems intrigued at the energy that is so different from his own. When he decide to touch it, the energies create a blast that throw him across the cavern.
Under him, the scientist shake their amazement as they watch the dramatic turn of event.
Just before the impact, a force field surround Him and act like a cushion: instead of a body breaking against the stone, the stone break against the force field. It forms a crater and fissures radiate around it in all direction.
Him is left floating there, looking dazed.
Down below, the scientists are getting displeased with their creation: they had meant for it to be a slave, a mean for them to obtain control of the planet. A seemingly disobedient child is of no use to them.
Still in flight near the top of the cavern, Him is now looking around the vast space, unaware of the words his creators are exchanging below. When Him turn around to inspect the room, the Hawk God is mindful not to move: a being as powerful as that one could most likely feel him.
Eventually, Him is facing the Hawk God, even if he doesn’t know it.
The primordial God seize this opportunity to look in his eyes.
He sees innocence.
Naivety.
Curiosity.
A newborn’s mind.
Eventually, the moment ends: one of the sirusite has acquired a voice-amplifying device from somewhere and is trying to coax Him to come back down. As the time passes and Him refuses to move, the coaxing tone becomes more and more rigid, firm. The four sirusites take their turn to speak, each one with more authority and menace in his voice than the previous one.
It goes on until they make a mistake:
“Him, if you don’t come down this instant, we will make you!”
A weapon appear.
Two heads swivel in sync to the four mortals, one visible and the other not.
While Him is more curious at the sight of the new object than anything else, the Hawk God can immediately say they intend to do harm.
“Him, last time, come here now or we will have to hurt you.”
How stupid of them, to expect a newborn to know the concept of pain.
The weapon is readied, aimed.
Him is still not moving.
The shot is taken.
It never reaches its target.
With one hand, the Hawk God emit a powerful burst of cosmic energy that disintegrate the projectile. With the other hand, he emit a blast that sends the four scientists cashing in the nearest machine. They land softly enough not to die on impact but with enough strength to cause deadly injuries.
Just like he intended.
When he turn to Him, he is visible again.
In his eyes, he sees something close to adoration. He did, after all, save Him from a very painful experience. He is therefore not afraid when the Hawk God reaches for him. When he put a hand on his head. When he looks into his eyes.
Him surrender to the sleeping compulsion.
The Hawk God catches his body mid-fall, barely sparing a glance to the four sirusites. He can feel them dying, know they have very little time left to live.
Very little time for him to leave.
It wouldn’t do for Death to find him when he has finally found himself a body.
He grins, excitement taking over his mind. Finally, his search is Over, he can return to the Citadel and be reborn.
He leaves the sirusites bleeding out in the middle of their life’s work, intent to be out of the solar system before they expire.
In a heartbeat, his enlarging body has reached the hidden entrance. He moves Him’s body from his arms to his bent-over shoulder as to be able to let himself out.
It is but one push of his hand before he can unfold his body outside.
It is one downstrike of his heel to collapse the entry and a part of the hallway.
As his head breaches the clouds that are crowning the head of the mountain, he delicately picks Him from his shoulder and moves his body to the palm of his hand.
When he has regained his usual size, he close his hand around his precious charge in a snug fit. Spreading his wings and bending his knees, he look in the direction of the citadel and elation replace excitement in him.
The first beat of his wings raise an immense cloud of dust on Sirus. The second disturb the regular orbit of the asteroid belt that encircle the externmost planet of the solar system. At the third, he can feel the cosmic winds pushing against his body from how fast he is flying.
He notice none of it.
His only goal is the citadel. His path is the straightest line in its direction. On his way there, he pull millions of objects out of their orbit. He move the trajectory of two black holes, dooming them to one day fuse. He alter the trajectories of everything he come across.
He does not care. The Citadel awaits.
When he reaches the edge of the nothingness, he doesn’t bother to stop. He simply closes his eyes and dive for the top of the citadel, where the platform he had left from was.
He will never admit how relieved he felt when he landed firmly on the platform.
When he present his open hand to Lady Fate with the body of Him in it, her smile is near-blinding.
“Welcome back, my Herald. I am glad you have been patient in your search.”
Her melodic voice sooth his impatient and elated mind, leaving him filled with the pride of a well done job as well as a little apprehensiveness for what is to come.
“As I am. What happens now?”
She answer as she take his future body from where it lay in the middle of his palm.
“Now we go to Arcturus. I will transport us there and make sure we remain unseen. ”
She then laid her free hand on his shoulder and take a step forward, pushing him a bit while doing so. A swirl of blinding light engulf them for a few moments, disorienting the Hawk God.
In an instant, they find themselves on solid ground, under the blinding light of the two suns of the Arcturus IV star system.
It had been a long time since the Hawk God had seen this area of Arcturus but he could easily identify the first city his people had built. As he turned around, he replaced his surroundings: they were in the middle of the Ceremonial Place with the spaceport to their left. To the right were the living quarters of the population. Running perpendicular to the spaceport and the houses across the whole Place were the Pillars of the Honored. They were made of silver and on each one was written in gold the names of every warrior that had been killed in battle or died of wounds acquired in a battle. The Pillars began by the Palace, where the military chiefs lived and ruled from, and ended at the edge of the wastelands that separated the pure-gene arcturans from the mutants.
The Place itself was a wide rectangular open area paved with enormous pieces of glass that had been polished smooth by the innumerable people that threaded on them every day. The Palace was built of a rare type of veined marble called “Grigio Bardiglio” and each pillar that lined the width of the front was carved after the likeness of each High Commander that had ruled the city so far. They were represented in their uniform and bronze was cast on their helmets to heighten the resemblance. On the higher level were hung large pieces of the red cloth used for the uniforms as to remind the citizens that the seat of military power was there.
From the ground it looked magnificent. For the Hawk God however, it seemed like a squat little building. The helmets of the statues amused him especially, for they were a poor pastiche of the feathers on either side of his head.
At their feet, arcturans went on with their lives, unconsciously giving them a wide berth.
It would be so easy to step on them, to bend his knee and open his wing wide and topple nearly every pillar. So easy to kick flat-
“That way of thinking is exactly why I did not simply pull you into your new body.”
The Hawk God startled at the reminder that was neither alone nor gone sight-seeing.
With an indulgent smile, Fate explained herself: “As my Herald, I will require of you many tasks. Not all of them will be to cause death and destruction. That is why we are here, on your cradle-world. I intend for you to live as one of your arcturan to both help you master your new abilities and to develop a new mindset.”
He immediately opened his mouth to protest but before a sound could escape him he thought best of it. She did have a point.
“Very well. How will that happen?”
Fate tilted her head in the direction of the palace.
“The wife of Commander Ogord, Salaan, is pregnant. She had gone into labor not too long ago. According to her personal healer, she will birth a healthy boy today. I made sure of it.”
Her last sentence felt suspended, as if there was more to it. But what could she mea-
“You fooled them into thinking her womb was full!”
His head feathers twitched at the unexpected realization.
“Come and see.”
She turned and headed in the direction of the Palace while she cupped both hands around the body of Him and pressed.
Had it been anyone else doing that, he would have been worried.
A few steps later, she reached her destination: two wide open windows on the third floor that revealed a large bedroom. Inside were the Commander and his wife, her healer and a midwife. Fate turned to him and opened her hands, revealing that Him’s body had regressed to the size and shape of an unborn infant. Carefully, she picked it up between two fingers and reached inside the room.
He could not tell if he shivered in excitation or anticipation as Fate effortlessly slipped the body inside Salaan’s womb.
She turned to him.
“You will always retain a sense of your current self and you will regain bits and pieces of memories as you will age. I will also visit you from time to time to provide help, even when you will not remember me.”
He exhaled will clear anticipation.
“I am ready.”
She put a hand on the back of his neck and pushed.
The fall seemed endless.
He lost all of his senses.
He opened his mouth.
Screamed like he never had.
A piercing wail echoed in the bedroom as the midwife gathered the newborn boy in clean towels to wash him. The healer followed and they marveled at how, even clean and dry, the boy’s skin seemed to shine slightly. And if the boy’s irises were more golden than blue well, all babies’ eyes changed color eventually, yes?
After careful examination, the child was given to its mother. She exchanged a loving look with her husband before turning to her healer.
“His name is Stakar.”
Understanding the instruction, he bowed and announced: “I will go find your daughters and bring them back here, Madam.”
The midwife kept on cleaning the room while both parents settled confortably.
And if they did not notice how quiet their son was, how little milk he drank and how he kept looking through the open windows, as if searching for someone, well they could be excused, could they not? Salaan had used a lot of her energy to bring a new life to this world. Ogord had overseen the examination of the pilot candidates, which had lasted all night and then had been summoned to a council to plan the next attack on the mutants. The midwife was to her fourth birth of the day and could affirm she had never seen a child so hesitant to leave the womb.