[A/N]: This chapter is a big one, so if you want more, let's reach 350 Power Stones, and a bonus chapter drops. Let's see if you can make it happen.
Stark Tower, Workshop
Tony Stark stood amid a maze of holographic displays and partially constructed armor components, working on a new suit design specifically intended to handle Lightning attacks after reading the classified reports about the New Mexico incident.
He was still struggling to believe everything he'd learned about Norse gods and interdimensional travel, but the evidence was overwhelming.
[Sir,] JARVIS interrupted, [you may want to see this.]
The AI displayed the footage from Latveria across Tony's workshop displays. Tony watched for several minutes before slamming his tools down in frustration.
"First, aliens pretending to be Nordic gods throwing lightning storms in New Mexico of all places, with energy readings I've never seen before. Now magic is apparently real, and Doom of all people was using it, and what's with Jay's show-off nature lately? Maybe I rubbed off on the kid too much."
JARVIS's voice carried sarcastic amusement. [Yes, sir. Much like the last time you begged him to give you advance warning before entering the business world, so you would never find yourself competing against him.]
Tony ignored the jab.
"Yeah, well, apparently I'm not the only one doing that anymore," Tony muttered, glancing back at the frozen image of Jay, hair white, energy radiating from his body like a star. "JARVIS, add another project. I want to know if we can detect or measure whatever the hell that energy was."
[Sir, our satellites detected the phenomenon, but the readings are unlike anything in our database. The energy signature doesn't match any known form of radiation or EM spectrum. It's as if it exists outside conventional physics.]
"Nothing exists outside physics. Physics is everything. If I can't measure it, I can't understand it. And if I can't understand it, I can't replicate or counter it."
[May I remind you, sir, that three months ago you insisted magic wasn't real?]
"Three months ago, I was right. Now I'm just... adjusting my parameters."
"JARVIS, create a new project file. I want a comprehensive analysis and contingency plans for dealing with this so-called magic."
[Certainly, sir. Also, you are currently twenty minutes late for your dinner reservation with Miss Potts.]
Tony's eyes widened in panic. "What?! Why didn't you remind me earlier?"
[I did, sir. Multiple times. You told me you were 'busy saving the world.']
"Oh, Pepper's gonna kill me," Tony muttered, scrambling into his suit. He blasted straight out the window without bothering to open it. "Jarvis, call the restaurant!"
[Already done, sir. I've informed them you're... experiencing technical difficulties.]
Tony weaved through air at breakneck speed, nearly clipping a bird. He landed hard on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, suit retracting as he jogged toward the entrance.
"Pepper!" he called out, spotting her at their usual table. "Sorry, sorry! There was this thing with the arc reactor and..."
Queens Safehouse
The inner circle had gathered in their familiar meeting room, watching Jay's latest miracle unfold on the large screen Bobby had installed. The atmosphere was a mixture of pride, concern, and something approaching awe.
Seeing Doom's plan to sacrifice someone so important had made them all shudder, but what disturbed them more was the venom in Jay's voice during the broadcast. Only now did they understand how much hatred and suppressed rage he'd been carrying in his heart.
But then came the miracle, and Jay's transformed appearance with his white hair glowing with converted light energy.
Maria's voice was warm with affection. "See? I always told you he was a real angel. Always helping people, even when he doesn't know it himself. And on Christmas Eve, no less!"
Max nodded, his eyes bright. "Jay's something special, that's for sure."
Bobby, however, was disturbed by seeing Jay deliver that final sword strike to Doom. The level of violence troubled him, even though he understood the necessity. He'd been trying to call Jay repeatedly, but all his attempts went to voicemail.
Finally, Jay's recorded message played back: "Hey Bobby, if I'm not responding to your calls, it means I'm either passed out or, worse, the Ancient One is in the middle of smacking me with her newspapers for what I'm about to do in Latveria. Call you later, bye? Bye! Give my love to everyone!"
Everyone laughed at the message, but Bobby just sighed with worried affection.
"Turn on the news," Maria suddenly said. "All the channels. I want to see what they're saying."
Bobby flipped through channels. Every single one was covering the same story.
"...unprecedented display of superhuman ability..."
"...international law experts debating whether this constitutes..."
"...religious leaders worldwide responding to what many are calling..."
"...stock markets in chaos as investors try to understand..."
"...the United Nations Security Council in emergency session..."
X-District Community Center
In the newly constructed community center that served as the unofficial heart of the mutant district, the Morlock leaders had gathered around the large screen. Callisto sat in the front row, her single eye fixed on the footage. Beside her, Caliban and Beautiful Dreamer watched intently, while Sunder's massive frame filled a section in the back.
As Jay's words echoed through the room, Callisto's scarred face broke into a fierce grin. "There's our leader," she said quietly, but her voice carried to every corner of the silent room.
"Callisto," Caliban said quietly, his voice troubled, "the humans are scared. When humans are scared, they hurt mutants."
"When humans are scared, they hurt anyone different," Callisto corrected. "But this time, maybe they'll be too busy being scared of Jay to bother with us."
"Or maybe they'll come after all of us," Beautiful Dreamer said. "Mutants, enhanced, anyone who's not normal. They won't distinguish. They'll just see threats that need to be eliminated."
Sunder's deep voice rumbled through the room. "Then we prepare to defend ourselves."
"No," Callisto said firmly. "We prepare to defend HIM. Because if they come after Jay, if they try to hurt the one person who's actually done something to help us, then we show them exactly what happens when you threaten the Morlocks' chosen leader."
The assembled crowd watched with expressions of fierce pride and renewed loyalty.
Vice President Rodriguez's Office
Vice President Rodriguez sat alone in his office, staring at the Latverian footage on his tablet. His first instinct had been anger. This looked like international terrorism, plain and simple. Every political bone in his body screamed that he should distance himself from the X-District initiatives immediately.
Then he watched Jay heal an entire nation with a gesture.
The tablet slipped in his hands as memories hit him like a freight train. His daughter Maria, trapped in that wheelchair for all her life. The doctors had all given up, told them to accept it and move on. Then Jay had walked into their lives, asking for the impossible, but he'd placed his hands on her small frame and given their little girl a chance at normal life.
Now Maria was running around upstairs, probably terrorizing her mother about going to the park with Hammy and complaining about homework like any normal eight-year-old should.
Rodriguez rubbed his temples and reached for his legal pad. The political fallout from this was going to be brutal, but he knew which side he was on. He started scribbling notes, preparing talking points that would somehow defend a man who'd just committed an act of war to save lives.
His phone rang.
"Mr. President."
"Rodriguez, I need to know where you stand on the Latveria situation."
Rodriguez took a deep breath. "Sir, I stand with the man who healed my daughter. And if that costs me my career, so be it."
A long pause.
"That's what I thought you'd say. That's why I'm calling. I need someone who actually knows this Jay character to help me understand what we're dealing with. Because right now, I've got the Joint Chiefs telling me he's a threat, State Department saying he's a diplomatic disaster, and the CDC wanting to study him like a lab rat."
"And what do you think, sir?"
"I think I just watched someone do more good in one night than my entire administration has managed in two years. And that scares the hell out of me."
"Sir?"
"It means power has shifted, Rodriguez. The balance we've maintained since World War II, the understanding that nations hold the monopoly on large-scale force, just became obsolete. One person changed that. One person proved that national boundaries, military might, political authority... all of it means nothing if someone decides to act."
"He saved lives, sir."
"This time. But what happens the next time someone with that kind of power decides to act? What if their definition of 'helping' doesn't match ours?"
Rodriguez had no answer to that. Some debts, he realized, were worth the political suicide.
Discrete Yacht, International Waters
The surviving members of the former Hellfire Club had gathered in the yacht's main salon, their faces bearing the permanent marks of Jay's retribution. Scars, burns, and twisted features served as constant reminders of what happened when someone crossed him. Only Emma Frost remained unmarked.
Expensive champagne sat forgotten as they watched Jay's confrontation with Doom play out on the main screen, each disfigured face reflecting the same mixture of fear and hatred.
Their elaborate plans for revenge suddenly seemed laughably inadequate. One of them grabbed the entire planning board and hurled it straight out the yacht's window with a splash. Another swept all their carefully organized documents into the trash.
"New plan," someone muttered, pulling out a fresh whiteboard.
"From scratch," another agreed, uncapping a marker.
"Next time," they declared in unison, shaking their fists at the screen, "we'll definitely get him next time!"
Emma just sighed and poured herself another drink.
"Are you all insane?" she finally said.
They turned to look at her.
"Did you not just watch what I watched? Did you not see him heal an entire country? Did you not see him convert demonic energy into pure light? And you're sitting here planning revenge?"
"Emma, we can't just..."
"Yes, we can. We absolutely can. We can take our scars, our humiliation, and our lives, and we can count ourselves lucky he didn't do worse. Because the man we just watched on that screen? That's not someone we can fight. That's not even someone we should think about fighting."
"So what, we just accept what he did to us?"
"We accept that we gambled, we lost, and we survived. That's more than Doom can say."
The room fell silent.
"I'm out," Emma said firmly. "Count me out of whatever plans you're making. I'm going to use my remaining resources to disappear and live quietly somewhere he'll never think to look for me."
"You're abandoning us?"
"I'm choosing survival over pride. I recommend you all do the same."
She stood, gathering her things.
"But if you insist on pursuing revenge against someone who can heal nations and kill tyrants with equal ease, then I wish you the best of luck. You're going to need it."
She left without looking back.
The remaining members looked at each other, the bravado draining from their faces.
"Maybe Emma has a point," someone finally said.
"Maybe we should just... forget about all this."
The planning board stayed blank.
Social Media, Worldwide
Within eight hours of the broadcast, the internet had essentially broken.
Twitter's trending list was entirely dominated by Latveria-related hashtags: #WhiteChristmas (1.2 billion tweets) #JayTheHealer (890 million tweets) #ChristmasMiracle (756 million tweets) #DoomFalls (643 million tweets) #NewAge (521 million tweets)
Facebook had crashed twice from the sheer volume of posts. Instagram was flooded with artistic interpretations of the healing moment. TikTok had exploded with reaction videos, analysis, conspiracy theories, and people claiming to be in Latveria during the event.
Reddit's servers were overloaded as every subreddit, regardless of original topic, had multiple threads discussing the event.
One post on r/worldnews had 4.3 million upvotes and 890,000 comments:
"We just witnessed the single most significant event in human history since the atomic bomb. One person healed a nation. Changed the paradigm of what's possible. This is our moon landing. Our first flight. Our discovery of fire. Nothing will ever be the same."
YouTube was flooded with analysis videos. Some breaking down the physics (or lack thereof) of what occurred. Others discussing the theological implications. Still others offering frame-by-frame analysis trying to understand exactly what had happened.
The most viewed video, with 2.1 billion views in just eight hours, was simply titled: "The Moment Everything Changed."
It showed the exact moment when the healing light erupted from Castle Doom. No commentary. No analysis. Just the raw footage.
The comments section was a warzone:
"This is CGI. Has to be. No way this is real."
"My aunt was there. She was dying. Now she's not. It's real."
"This is the Antichrist. Mark of the beast. End times are here."
"This is proof that mutants are the next stage of human evolution."
"This is proof that God exists and sends angels when we need them."
"This is proof that magic is real and science doesn't have all the answers."
"Everyone arguing about what this proves is missing the point!!"
December 25th, The Next Morning
The sun rose on a world that didn't quite recognize itself.
In Latveria, people stumbled out of their homes in a daze, touching their own bodies as if to confirm the miracle was real. Hospitals sat empty for the first time in living memory. Doctors wandered the halls, checking and rechecking equipment, unable to process the reality that every patient, every single one, had simply... gotten better.
In Castle Doom, Latverian military officials gathered in confusion, finding themselves without a leader, without orders, without any framework for what came next. Some wanted to declare emergency rule. Others suggested democracy. Still others whispered about tracking down the man who'd done this and asking him what he wanted them to do.
When the footage leaked to social media through various unofficial and official channels, the world exploded into chaos.
Religious groups immediately began competing to claim Jay as an agent of their particular deity. #AngelOfHealing and #ChristmasMiracle trended simultaneously in dozens of languages.
Conspiracy theorists worked overtime, generating theories that ranged from elaborate staged productions to multi-dimensional chess games. Some insisted the entire confrontation was VFX, Hollywood-level special effects designed to manipulate global opinion. Others claimed Jay's "revenge" was all an act, that Doom exposing him had been Jay's plan from the very beginning, a carefully orchestrated public relations campaign to gain sympathy before revealing his true power.
The most popular theory suggested that Jay and Doom were secretly working together, that the whole feud was theater designed to justify Jay's eventual takeover of Latveria. Forums buzzed with frame-by-frame analysis of the footage, claiming to spot "obvious green screen effects" and "crisis actor tells."
One particularly vocal group insisted that the "healed" Latverians were all paid actors with makeup, and that the dimensional portals were just advanced hologram technology stolen from Stark Industries.
The hashtag wars began in earnest: #JayIsTerrorist battled against #JayIsHero across every platform, but #WhiteChristmas was a unified term coined for this event.
Some demanded his immediate arrest for violating international law. Others proclaimed him a true hero who actually went around the world making lasting positive changes instead of just defending New York constantly.
The discussion spread to television news programs, public debates, and even parliamentary sessions in different countries. International law experts debated the precedent of superhuman intervention in foreign affairs, with some calling for new Geneva Convention protocols while others argued that Jay's actions constituted an unprovoked attack on a sovereign nation.
Medical professionals struggled to explain the impossible healing, with research teams already booking flights to Latveria to study the "Miracle of Christmas Eve."
Religious leaders called for everything from canonization to excommunication, with the Vatican quietly opening an official investigation into potential divine intervention.
Pharmaceutical companies saw their values plummet as people questioned why they needed medicine when miracles were possible. Defense contractors' stocks surged as governments realized they needed new capabilities to handle extraordinary threats.
The world had been irrevocably changed in a single night.
And the person responsible was sleeping peacefully, utterly unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed.
But Jay, blissfully unaware of the global chaos his actions had triggered, slept peacefully in his narrow bed at Kamar-Taj, one hand still unconsciously clutching Domino's lucky quarter.
For the first time in months, he was finally at peace, having cleared his name and released all the hatred and grief that had been poisoning his heart.
The world could wait. He'd earned this rest.
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