A few moments earlier…
Inside the towering warship of Galactus, silence lingered in the chamber for a rare heartbeat.
Ethan hovered in the air, his eyes half-lidded, breath slow and steady as though he were lost between focus and calm.
He exhaled slowly, as if releasing the last remnants of restraint. White light shimmered across his body, wrapping him from head to toe before dispersing like scattering petals.
Then—flicker.
His body shimmered, clothes dissolving into pure light before reforming into fresh attire. A black jacket, fitted pants, boots—the casual look he always preferred.
A spell of his own design, one inspired by the Requip magic of Erza Scarlet. Instant, seamless, and ridiculously convenient.
He flexed his hands slowly, clenching and unclenching his fists, feeling the new energy coursing through his veins.
It was different. Heavy, boundless, intoxicating. His smirk faded into something more thoughtful as he tilted his head, studying the white sparks dancing between his fingers.
"The Power Cosmic…" he muttered.
He could feel it. When the Surfer's final, devastating blast struck him, it hadn't just failed to kill—it had been absorbed, consumed, adapted. His body had learned from the assault, evolved beyond it, and now pulsed with the very energy that fueled the Surfer himself.
For the moment, it was only a spark, a mere fragment of what the Surfer or Galactus wielded. But Ethan knew how his evolution worked. That spark would grow. And fast.
He compared it instinctively to the Phoenix Force that already burned inside him.
The Phoenix force was wild, infinite, a living concept of destruction and rebirth.
The Cosmic Power was different—structured, universal, like wielding the rules of creation itself. One was fire; the other was the forge. And together? They thrummed inside him in dangerous harmony, making his blood feel like molten starlight.
Ethan's grin returned. "So this is what it feels like… to be endless."
But Galactus did not allow more reflection.
The Devourer of Worlds rose, his chest wound sealing as though it had never been, though his broken armor still revealed the memory of Ethan's strike.
The gaping plates twisted and reformed with a gesture, until even the hole was gone. His gaze, however, betrayed irritation.
Ethan lifted a hand and clenched his fist.
The air shimmered as his telekinesis seized Galactus's enormous form. The titan froze mid-step, halted by invisible hands. For an instant, the impossible seemed possible—Galactus, held still like a doll. His cosmic eyes narrowed, power rising as he began forcing the mental grip apart.
Ethan's attention snapped elsewhere. The Surfer still hovered nearby, weakened from pouring nearly everything into his earlier blast.
"Your turn."
He vanished—reappearing an inch before the Surfer.
'Too fast!' he thought.
The herald's eyes widened. His board twitched beneath him, but he was too slow. He had already exhausted nearly all of his strength in his earlier assault.
Ethan's aura erupted in a blinding white glow, his fist moving before the Surfer could even react.
Crack!
The first punch crashed against the Surfer's chin, snapping his head back.
The second slammed into his cheekbone, silver fragments sparking off.
The third cracked across his nose. The fourth buried into his chest.
And then it became a storm.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A punch across the right jaw. Then the left. Then the nose. The face. The chest.
Blow after blow rained down like a storm.
Ethan's arms became blurs, the sound of impact rolling like thunder through the chamber.
A thousand strikes in a tenth of a second, each blow wrapped in crimson flame, lightning crackles, and threads of newborn Cosmic. The Surfer's body twisted under the relentless barrage, his consciousness struggling to hold as the rhythm of destruction overwhelmed him.
BOOM!
The final kick drove into his stomach like a meteor cannon. The board beneath him shattered away, and the Surfer's body spiraled through the chamber like a comet stripped from orbit.
The impact thundered through the warship, plating bursting apart as his silver frame was swallowed by debris.
Ethan's chest heaved, his crimson-white aura dancing wild. His eyes snapped back toward Galactus—
—and Galactus had broken free. His massive hand swung downward, ready to crush Ethan like swatting a mosquito.
Ethan's figure blurred. In a flash, he reappeared within the giant's shadow, looking like nothing more than an ant before a god. But his aura told another story.
White radiance blazed from his body. Crimson fire roared, licking the air in wild tendrils. Blue lightning arced, snapping across his form like living veins. The Cosmic thrummed beneath it all, steady and endless.
The fusion of forces bent the air around him, gravity itself warping.
Ethan clenched his fist and his eyes began glowing red. "Let's dance, big guy."
Galactus drew in a deep breath, preparing to unleash a counterstrike…
But Ethan struck first.
BOOOOM!
The impact made Galactus stagger.
The first punch caved part of the giant's chest inward.
The second shattered a shoulder.
The third tore through his defenses entirely.
And then they became countless. In the span of a single second, thousands of strikes rattled through the warship, sparks and shockwaves exploding with every impact.
The chamber shook with every collision. Sparks of cosmic energy burst like novas, painting the wreckage in shifting hues of violet and white.
Galactus countered with blows of his own, fists descending like collapsing stars. But Ethan slipped between them, his smaller frame darting through openings no god-sized being could predict.
Ethan's small frame darted across Galactus's body, every strike burning, every strike adapting, each impact heavier and more relentless than the one before.
The Devourer staggered. His wounds healed slower now, sluggish, his massive body struggling to repair itself under the endless barrage.
For the first time in eons, Galactus felt it... Fatigue.
The warship groaned. Whole sectors collapsed. Cracks spidered through reality itself, space buckling under the pressure of two cosmic titans colliding.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. His fists ignited brighter, cosmic flames twining with Phoenix fire. He poured most of his power into one final blow.
KA-BOOOOOOM!!!
The punch connected with Galactus's chest.
The explosion consumed half the warship, ripping it apart in molten fragments. Galactus's titanic body was thrown back, crashing through his throne, smashing through walls, until his bulk cratered deep into the ruins.
And the Devourer didn't rise immediately.
Amid the drifting wreckage, Ethan hovered in silence, his gaze falling to his hand. Crimson fire coiled around his fist, entwined with silver-white cosmic light, blue arcs of lightning snapped across his knuckles.
A low breath escaped him. 'Damn…' he muttered, "I'm getting scary strong."
It wasn't surprising for him, after all—at his full strength he can shatter the Mirror Dimension itself. Now, with the Power Cosmic coursing through him, his limits were unknown, waiting only to be broken with a little training.
He let the power fade slightly, crimson flames dwindling as his aura steadied. Turning, he flew downward, smoke trailing his form until he landed lightly on what remained of the ruined chamber floor.
Before him, Galactus lay broken. His towering form had shrunk, no longer an incomprehensible colossus but merely a giant, his body cracked and battered. Blood seeped from his mouth, his breath shallow. The great Devourer looked… mortal.
For the first time in eons, Galactus looked like he might die.
But Ethan had other plans.
He walked slowly forward, his eyes fixed on the fallen titan, every step echoing.
Galactus's chest rose weakly. His healing was very very slow. His reserves were nearly empty. Without consuming worlds, he would wither.
"You don't get to die just yet, big guy," Ethan's voice was calm, but beneath it was iron. His crimson-gold eyes glowed with authority as he stepped closer to the fallen titan. "I have plans for you."
The warship groaned, trembling violently, sections collapsing into themselves like a dying beast. Sparks crackled in the air. Fractures split through steel walls and the deck beneath Ethan's boots.
The entire structure shuddered as if it was about to break apart and fall into the void.
Ethan turned his head slightly before extending a hand. A green magic circle flared to life in his palm, etched with ancient runes and shifting constellations.
The glow expanded, and in the next heartbeat, a surge of emerald energy rippled across the shattered ship.
The very air froze, thick and heavy with power. Ethan's aura surged, and a wave of green energy expanded outward like ripples through water.
The moment the energy touched the walls of the ship, time reversed.
Broken walls knitted back together with metallic groans, fractures sliding shut like wounds healing in reverse. Fallen debris floated up from the ground and slotted neatly back into place. Sparks zipped back into wires. Flames shrank, retreating until nothing remained. Even the shattered throne of Galactus reassembled itself with divine precision.
It wasn't just repair—it was the undoing of destruction itself.
Within moments, the warship stood whole again, pristine as though the cataclysmic battle had never touched it.
It wasn't repair—it was reversal. Ethan was pulling the vessel backward through time itself, undoing every scar of battle.
Thanks to his Chronokinesis.
Ethan lowered his hand, "There. That's better."
His gaze swept the chamber, locking onto a silver figure lying unconscious against the far wall. The Silver Surfer. His board was absent. The once-proud herald now looked fragile—cracks lined his chrome-like body, cosmic light leaking weakly from the wounds.
For a moment, Ethan frowned. 'If I leave him like this, he'll die.'
He extended his palm again, this time a warm light enveloping Norrin Radd. Surfer's wounds shimmered and slowly vanished, the cracks sealing as his silver form returned to its immaculate sheen.
With a sharp gasp, the Surfer jolted awake. His glowing eyes darted wildly, and in an instant, his hand snapped behind him, summoning his board. The board whistled through the chamber, slamming to his side as Surfer rose defensively.
Ethan raised a hand casually. "Relax. The fight's over."
The Surfer hesitated. His eyes shifted past Ethan… and froze.
Galactus.
The Devourer of Worlds, his master, his god, lay crumpled like a beaten giant. His form—once a towering nightmare—had shrunk, his armor cracked, his presence weakened. He looked… mortal.
For the first time in centuries, Norrin Radd's chest tightened with something he thought long dead—confusion.
The Silver Surfer's chest ached. He had pledged himself to Galactus for the sake of his people, his planet, and his beloved Shalla-Bal. He had sacrificed his freedom to save them from destruction. To see Galactus, the cosmic constant, the one being who stood above eternity itself—brought to this…
His lips parted, but no words came. His board vibrated under his feet, as if sensing his turmoil.
Ethan watched silently, "Didn't expect to see your god like that, huh?" His tone wasn't mocking, just matter-of-fact.
The Surfer said nothing but his eyes betrayed his thoughts.
Ethan turned back and stepped toward Galactus, weaving his hands together. A crimson glow blossomed between his palms, forming into a sigil of binding. The runes twisted unnaturally, glowing with threads of white and red as a collar of pure magic forged itself in the air.
Without resistance, Ethan hurled it forward.
CLANG!
The collar expanded mid-flight, wrapping cleanly around Galactus's neck. Light pulsed once, then twice, before settling into a faint crimson glow against the titan's neck. The weakened titan didn't resist—the spell latched on, embedding into his very essence with a flash of Red and white.
The Surfer's eyes widened. "What… what have you done?"
"A little trick. Call it… ownership."
It was a binding spell. Not one Ethan had stumbled upon, but one he had created. Inspired by tricks from other worlds—like the enslavement magic from The Rising of the Shield Hero—he had forged his own version, a binding spell that would strip away free will from dangerous individuals and make them obedient.
He had never expected the first target of it to be Galactus himself.
Not only that—his Phoenix Force and newly awakened Power Cosmic amplified the spell beyond its original design. The collar shone with such weight that even when Galactus returned to his peak, he would not be able to break free.
"You'll serve me now," Ethan said coldly.
Galactus's massive form twitched. His glowing eyes dimmed, just slightly. The collar pulsed, and his body stiffened under its command.
The Surfer's expression tightened, shock and disbelief warring on his face. "You… bound him…?" His voice trembled, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Ethan reached forward, hand glowing with green magic circle, attempting to rewind Galactus's time as he had done with the ship. The spell pulsed over the Devourer's body, but… nothing. His wounds remained. His essence resisted.
Surfer spoke up, quietly. "Time has little hold on him. Cosmic beings exist outside its flow. Your spell cannot force what the universe itself does not impose."
Ethan turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "… I see." Then placed his hand towards Galactus's chest. His own newly-born Cosmic energy flared, threads of silver weaving into crimson flame.
The titan's wounds began to close, his frame regaining stability. He was still weakened—far weaker than his prime—but his body no longer bled, no longer tore apart with each movement. The collar glowed brighter, ensuring his submission.
Ethan nodded in satisfaction. "That's more like it."
Suddenly, an idea struck him—a theory he needed to test. The Cosmic energy within his body was still in its infancy; his adaptation had given him the spark, but to truly nurture it into a blaze would take time.
This test could also be used in accelerating that growth. Yet he hadn't forgotten the cost. Using this power would sever the bond he shared with his girls. The last thing he wanted was to cause them worry—or add another punishment to the list they were no doubt keeping for him.
Without hesitation, Ethan reached inward, brushing against the bond of his mind.
The fragment of the Phoenix Force within him flared softly, granting him a direct tether to Jean. With her, the connection was effortless—instantaneous, no matter the distance. He could reach the others as well, but that would take time. The vastness of space separated him from Earth, and locating them across such distance required effort he didn't want to spend right now. Jean, however, was the easy path—the bridge that held them all together.
Jean. His voice echoed through the psychic link, steady but urgent.
Her reply came immediately, tinged with surprise. 'Ethan!'
'Listen,' he cut in gently before her concern could rise further. 'The link I share with you, Anna, Diana, and Didi—it's going to vanish for a while. Don't panic. Tell them this. I'll be back shortly after.'
There was a pause, then the soft exhale of acceptance through the bond. 'Alright. I'll tell them. I'm with Anna and Susan now.'
Ethan's lips curved into a faint smile. 'Good. And Jean… I'll make us something better when I return—a true psychic channel. Something permanent. A way to keep us connected, no matter where I am in the universe.'
Then Jean's soft chuckle rippled through the bond. 'That would be good to have, Ethan… but it sounds like you're planning something reckless again.'
A faint laugh escaped him, low and unbothered. 'You know me too well.'
Her answering laughter was light, though he felt the thread of worry beneath it. 'Just get back soon.'
Ethan's smile deepened. 'Count on it.'
He severed the link before exhaling deeply. Then his eyes snapped open, focused again on the two beings before him.
Galactus stood weakened but bound. The Silver Surfer lingered silently on his board.
Ethan raised his voice. "I want both of you… to use your Power Cosmic and attack me. With everything you've got."
The chamber fell silent.
The Surfer's eyes widened, disbelief written across his silver face. Even Galactus stirred faintly, his titanic brow furrowing.
"You…" the Surfer whispered, voice breaking. "…you can't be serious."
But Ethan's smile only widened, burning with reckless hunger. "Oh, I'm dead serious."
The Surfer's hands trembled. Galactus's vast eyes narrowed faintly. Both were united in the same thought.
This man… was insane.
...
**Carter Residence, Present Time...**
The dim glow of the bedside lamp softened the shadows in the room, painting everything with a warm, intimate hue.
Diana sat cross-legged on the bed, her long legs bare beneath the loose T-shirt that draped lazily over her shoulders, the fabric hanging just short enough to reveal her shorts underneath. Casual, comfortable—yet her natural elegance made her look stunning even in simplicity.
Across from her sat Anna, Jean, and Susan. All three had chosen equally relaxed outfits, though each of them seemed to unknowingly make comfort look enticing.
Anna wore a light tank top with thin straps and cotton shorts, her curves pressing gently against the fabric, the kind of casual sleepwear that made her look both fierce and feminine.
Jean had chosen something different—Ethan's shirt. Oversized, unbuttoned at the top, it fell low on her thighs, the scent of him clinging faintly to the fabric. Every time she shifted, the collar slipped down one shoulder, teasing bare skin. She wore it proudly, as though announcing to everyone who it belonged to.
Susan, on the other hand, looked almost shy in her loose nightgown. It was simple, flowing, yet it traced the shape of her figure when she moved, making her blush faintly whenever the others' eyes lingered too long.
The atmosphere was… strange but comforting. Almost like a slumber party.
Diana exhaled and leaned back on her palms, her sharp blue eyes flickering with thought. "So… that's why the link broke, huh? I thought something had happened to him."
Jean, brushing back a strand of her fiery hair, gave a calm smile. "Don't worry. He's fine. The link faltered because he was doing something reckless… not because he's gone."
Anna, lounging comfortably with one leg tucked beneath her, scoffed lightly. "Please. As if it were even possible to kill him. Death herself confirmed that, remember? The guy's too damn stubborn to stay down even if the universe tried."
That drew a chuckle from Diana, though her gaze softened, her lips curving into something more thoughtful. "Right… I almost forgot about Didi." Her expression grew serious as she turned toward Jean. "You need to let her know about this."
Jean shook her head lightly. "Already done. She knows. And… she's watching him closely."
"Figures." Anna muttered, rolling her eyes with an amused smirk. "One more person babysitting him. Like he doesn't already attract enough attention."
Susan who is quiet until now, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She looked around the room, at the casual intimacy of it all, and found herself smiling softly. "This… feels like a girls' night out."
The sudden remark made all three women turn to her at once, and Susan froze under their collective gaze.
Anna leaned forward with a mischievous grin, "Well, it's about time we made it official, huh?" She gave Susan a teasing wink. "Welcome to the family, Susan. You admitted you liked him, after all."
Susan's cheeks flamed, and she glanced instinctively toward Diana, as if seeking her approval.
Diana, resting her chin on her palm, gave a slow, graceful shrug. "I don't have a problem with it. If you like him… then you're one of us." Her voice was calm, but her eyes carried quiet acceptance.
Susan's lips parted slightly, relief flooding through her chest. She hadn't realized how much that mattered until Diana said it.
Jean stretched her arms above her head, Ethan's shirt sliding higher on her thighs. "Well, that settles it then. No backing out now, Susan."
Laughter broke out, the kind that carried warmth rather than mockery.
Soon enough, the conversation shifted naturally. From serious matters to playful banter, to teasing comments about Ethan himself.
Anna rolled her eyes with a grin. "You know, for someone who acts all calm and collected, he panics like hell when you surprise him."
Jean smirked. "True. Remember when he walked in on me wearing this shirt for the first time? He practically choked on his own words."
Diana chuckled, her laugh low and rich. "He tries so hard to look composed… but one little thing, and he cracks. It's actually endearing."
Susan bit her lip, smiling despite herself. "I… kind of like that about him."
Anna grinned wider. "Oh, don't worry. You'll see plenty of it soon enough."
Their laughter filled the room again, warm and easy, echoing into the quiet night.
.....
Author's Note:
Sorry for the delay in posting.
But I'm back now, and I'll try to update as much as I can.
Also, a little heads-up—the pacing will start picking up from here on out, since the MCU plot has been moving way too slowly. Time to speed things up.