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The military blockade stood firm at the edges of Hell's Kitchen—now Jack's Golden Peach. Hundreds of armed soldiers, armored vehicles, and combat drones held their positions, blocking civilians from returning home. Some families were stranded, their children clutching half-eaten Halloween candy, fear in their eyes as barrels of rifles pointed at them.
The hum of helicopters overhead mixed with the distant murmur of confused, frightened civilians. Then—A blur of motion.
Jack descended from the rooftops, landing effortlessly between the people and the military blockade. His pristine white robe, now lightly stained with the blood of fallen men, billowed in the cool night air.
The moment his feet touched the ground—"WEAPONS UP!" A chorus of clicks echoed as soldiers snapped their rifles toward him. The turrets of military vehicles swiveled. Even the helicopters adjusted their angles, their guns locked onto him.
Jack, completely unfazed, sighed. "Whoa, hold your guns there." He raised his hands lazily. "There are civilians behind me, you know."
The high-ranking officer at the front—a colonel, by the insignia on his chest—sneered. "Surrender now!" he barked. "Stop using civilians as shields!"
Jack stared at him. Then facepalmed. A long, slow, exaggerated facepalm. "Are you blind?" he asked, genuinely baffled. "How am I using them as shields when I'm standing in front of them?" He gestured dramatically toward the crowd. "And you're the one pointing guns at innocent people."
The colonel hesitated. Jack's golden eyes narrowed. Then, another voice interrupted. "Enough."
A man stepped forward. Dressed in a general's uniform, medals and ribbons gleaming under the city lights, his presence exuded authority and barely contained hostility.
Jack read his name tag. "ROSS." Jack's smile widened. "Well, well, well, if it isn't General Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross."
Ross's expression remained cold. "Stop the theatrics, Jack." His voice was like gravel. "I have half my men surrounding your so-called 'territory.' If you resist, you will die."
Jack laughed. Not just a chuckle, not a smirk—A full-bodied, unhinged, bent-over, pounding-the-ground cackle. "KEKEKEKEKEKEKE!"
Ross's brow twitched. The soldiers grew more tense, fingers tightening on their triggers.
Jack finally wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Oh, man. You actually think you can kill me." He straightened up and exhaled. "Alright, General." Jack smirked, crossing his arms. "I'll humor you." He gestured to the crowd behind him. "But first, let these beautiful people go home."
Ross studied him for a moment. Then, with a curt nod, he ordered his men. "Cuff him. Then release the civilians."
The soldiers hesitated. Jack was a wanted terrorist now. A killer. A meta-human menace. And he was just… standing there? Allowing himself to be arrested? Jack stretched out his arms playfully.
A pair of soldiers cautiously approached, securing his wrists with reinforced titanium cuffs. "Ooo, military's a little kinky, huh?" Jack teased as the cuffs clicked shut. "No wonder you guys are willing to die for each other."
Silence.
The soldiers ignored him, stone-faced. One by one, the civilians were allowed to pass. Children clutched their parents' hands. Elderly couples moved quickly, not daring to make eye contact. The people of Golden Peach walked past Jack, some whispering thanks, others too afraid to speak.
Ross watched, arms crossed. As the last straggler left, the general finally exhaled. He turned to Jack. "Take him in."
…
A single ember burned softly in the New York night. Phill Coulson exhaled, watching the thin stream of smoke curl up into the sky. His hand trembled. Just a little. But enough that he had to hold his wrist still with his other hand.
He closed his eyes, feeling the nicotine attempt to steady his nerves. The Fisk Tower had become a slaughterhouse. Bodies. Some missing limbs. Some missing faces. Some missing souls entirely. And in the middle of it all—Jack Hou.
A maniac wrapped in silk robes, grinning like a child, leaving only destruction and rebirth in his wake. Phill tried to rationalize it. Kingpin's empire had been a cancer. And Jack? He had performed surgery with a sledgehammer.
A voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Sir."
One of the SHIELD field agents stood behind him, his expression tight with exhaustion. "All the evidence has been secured. The building is still being cleared. The tied-up and knocked-out individuals are in processing."
Phill checked his watch. 1:03 AM. "...Good work." He sighed, taking another slow drag. Then, flicking the cigarette away, he exhaled the last of his tension. "Let's wrap this up. I want every agent off-site before sunrise."
"Yes, sir." The agent left.
Phill tilted his head back, gazing at the night sky. Somewhere up there, Jack Hou was still moving. And Phill prayed—for the sake of Earth—that this was the last unpredictable force they'd have to deal with. Because if Jack Hou was just one surprise—What else was waiting to be unleashed?
…
The mountain air of Kathmandu was bitingly cold, but the students of Kamar-Taj welcomed it. It kept them alert. Today, however, all distractions had faded.
Because today—The Ancient One himself had chosen to teach. Not through books. Not through cryptic riddles. But through direct, hands-on lessons. A rare moment. A moment none of them took for granted. When the lesson concluded, one by one, the sorcerers bowed and took their leave.
Until finally—Yao stood alone. The temple courtyard was silent. The winds howled softly through the ancient stonework. He took a breath. And then—He felt it. A presence. No—many. A collective weight pressing against the fabric of reality itself.
Yao's eyes narrowed. "So." His voice was a mere whisper. But when he raised his hand—The entire world trembled. A pulse of energy rippled across the Earth. Not violent. Not destructive. But commanding. Chilling. A warning.
And then—His voice rang clear and absolute into the vastness of the cosmos: "None of you will set foot on Earth… as long as I live." For a moment—Silence.
And then—They came. Manifestations of divine power. Shimmering, larger-than-life avatars of the Pantheon Lords. And they had come to investigate.
Yao smirked. "It seems that monkey is making me work overtime, huh?"
His golden cloak billowed. His ancient eyes locked onto the gathering gods. The cosmos shifted. The very air hummed with a force ancient and undeniable. As Yao's pulse of energy spread across the world—They felt it.
And they came. Not in their true divine forms—for their full presence would shatter reality itself—But as manifestations, avatars, echoes of their might. Standing before the Sorcerer Supreme were the leaders of the world's great pantheons.
Zeus. His golden laurels crackled with lightning, his immense frame draped in white-gold robes, his beard flowing like storm clouds over Mount Olympus. His eyes, full of wrath and arrogance, bore down on Yao as if demanding fealty. "This is an insult, Sorcerer. You have no authority over the gods."
Odin. The All-Father stood tall in dark armor, his golden spear Gungnir resting in his grip. One piercing eye regarded Yao with something that wasn't anger, but curiosity. His presence was immense, but where Zeus crackled with wrath, Odin carried the weight of wisdom.
"Calm yourself, Zeus," Odin's voice was deep, steady. He turned toward Yao, his expression unreadable. "The Sorcerer Supreme has always been the gatekeeper of this realm. It would be unwise to forget that."
Zeus snorted but said nothing. Yao gave Odin a respectful nod. "It's good to see that not all the gods have let their pride blind them."
Odin's single eye gleamed. "I've lived long enough to know that war with you would be... tiresome." Yao smirked.
The Jade Emperor. Seated upon an illusory throne of mist and gold, his robes woven from the fabric of creation itself, his face impassive—but his fingers twitched.
His celestial aura pulsed, a reminder of the divine bureaucracy that once governed all things. "You underestimate the authority of the heavens, Sorcerer Supreme. Your role was to maintain balance, not dictate to those above balance itself."
Thoth. The Egyptian Lord of Wisdom, Scribe of the Gods. He appeared half-man, half-ibis, his quill scratching unseen upon a floating scroll. His golden eyes, calculating and calm, swept over Yao with detached curiosity.
"The mortal world has shifted. This is undeniable. But for a mere mortal, even one of your power, to claim dominion over us?" His beak clicked softly. "This must be… corrected."
And more. They gathered in numbers unseen in millennia. The head of each divine order. The lords of forgotten mythologies. The gods of war, wisdom, and judgment.
They had all felt it—The shift in the balance of power. They had felt the rise of Jack Hou. A being of mortal flesh yet bearing divine dominion. And now, they stood before the guardian of Earth's magical order, demanding answers. Demanding authority be returned.
Yao smirked. He let the silence drag. Let the gods fester in their impatience. Then, in a calm, measured tone, he spoke "You misunderstand me."
The air tightened. The gods watched. "I did not call you here." His golden cloak shimmered in the cold mountain air. "I simply reminded you of the rules."
Zeus snarled. "We do not answer to—"
"Silence." Yao's voice was not loud. But it commanded the air itself. For a moment, even Zeus faltered. Even Thoth did not speak. Even the Jade Emperor did not raise a rebuke. Only Odin remained calm.
Yao took a step forward. "You have watched the Earth from afar for centuries. Forgotten it. Ignored it. Now, because of one man, you remember?" His golden eyes gleamed. "This is not the warring era. This is not the time of divine conquest. You will not descend from your thrones and interfere in mortal affairs."
Thunder rumbled behind Zeus. The Jade Emperor's throne flickered with celestial judgment. Odin sighed. "He is right." Zeus snapped his gaze toward the All-Father.
Odin met Zeus' glare with absolute indifference. "We are not meant to rule. That time has passed. We have lived long enough to see the cost of our interference."
He turned to Yao. "You have my word, Sorcerer Supreme. Asgard will not step foot in Midgard unless called upon."
Yao gave a small nod. "A wise decision, All-Father."
The Jade Emperor, however, was less willing to concede. "You act as if this is your world, Vishanti's Apprentice."
Yao grinned. "This world belongs to itself." His hands spread. The entire fabric of space trembled. "Step foot on this world uninvited—" His golden aura surged "—and you will see what happens."
A challenge. A warning. A promise. For all their power, the gods knew—They were not the rulers of Earth anymore. Not while Yao breathed.
Odin gave a final look at Yao, then at the other gods. His voice was calm but firm. "We are done here." With that, he left. The rest hesitated—Then one by one, they disappeared.
The last to vanish was the Jade Emperor, his face unreadable. But before he left, he tightened his grip on his staff. A sign. That this was not over.
Yao simply smiled. As the last of the gods vanished from his sight, Yao stood alone beneath the bright sky of Kamar-Taj. The world was quiet again. But his mind was not.
He sighed, running a hand over his smooth scalp, feeling the weight of the confrontation settle on his shoulders. His golden eyes flickered as he turned his gaze downward, toward Earth—Toward Jack Hou.
That lunatic. That chaotic whirlwind of a man. And yet—Yao chuckled. Because despite everything, Jack had been right. His words echoed in Yao's mind. 'You protect them as a collective. As long as they live, as long as they're not swallowed by mystical beasts, it's all good, right?'
Yao let out a small huff of amusement. "I suppose you have a way with words more than I do, Jack Hou." It was a rare thing—for a mortal to make the Sorcerer Supreme reflect on his own role.
But Jack had done just that. Because unlike the gods who sought to rule, and unlike himself, who sought to protect, Jack Hou simply—Did whatever the hell he wanted.
And the world—for better or worse—was changing because of it. Yao looked once more at the Earth. His golden cloak billowed. The future was uncertain, the balance delicate. But one thing was clear—The age of gods and kings had long passed.
Now—It was the age of Jack Hou. And whatever came next… Yao would be watching even if it's just for a little while.
**A/N**
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**A/N**