X-Force: Beyond Omega

🎊🎊EARLY HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE🎉🎉

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Aron hovered high above the city, bathed in an aura of glowing, golden fire that shimmered like a living sun. The Phoenix Force coursed through him, resonating with an intensity that felt both infinite and dangerous. The devastation below stretched as far as the eye could see—rubble, burning vehicles, shattered lives. Yet, amid the destruction, his resolve solidified. He would not let this tragedy end in despair.

The flames around him were not the kind that destroyed—they were warm and comforting, not like the unstable destroying type. The people below stopped their cries and panic, their attention drawn to the ethereal figure in the sky. Some shielded their eyes from the blinding light, while others watched in awe.

"What's he doing?" Tony Stark muttered, still holding his helmet under one arm. His HUD flickered as the Phoenix Force created energy signatures his sensors couldn't scan.

"I don't know," Natasha whispered. "But I don't think we can stop it even if we wanted to."

Jean Grey stood among the crowd, her lips parted in shock. She felt the overwhelming power of the Phoenix Force, more immense than she had ever controlled. Yet, Aron's connection to it was different—untainted by the emotional turmoil and limitations that plagued her. He wielded it with purpose, clarity, and unwavering confidence.

Aron aimed his palm toward the ground, his voice echoing, enhanced by the power of the Phoenix. "I won't let this be the end. This is not how their story ends." He could feel the Phoenix lending him her power. It was more fluid than before.

Golden flames descended gently from his outstretched hands, cascading like a shower of embers. Wherever the flames touched, they did not burn but healed. A firefighter with burns across his face gasped as his skin regenerated. A young boy pulled from the rubble moments earlier stopped coughing as his crushed ribs realigned and healed.

The light grew brighter, encompassing the entire city. The Phoenix Force reached deeper than the surface, penetrating the streets and the ruins and even bringing the bodies still buried under the rubble to the surface. The bodies lined up in rows—lifeless, broken—began to move. One by one, breaths returned to their lungs. Color returned to pale cheeks. Crushed bones reformed, and torn flesh knitted itself back together.

"My God," Captain America whispered, his shield slack in his hand as he watched a family reunite. Their son, previously lost, blinked up at them, alive and whole once more. The mother sobbed as she held him tightly.

Near the emergency medical station, a paramedic froze mid-action as the body they were preparing to cover stirred. The dead woman opened her eyes, her confusion melting into understanding as the flames danced around her, rekindling her life.

The cries of grief transformed into gasps of shock, then joy. For every life restored, hope reignited.

Aron's power swept through the city, binding shattered lives back together, both physically and emotionally. He turned the tide of despair into hope. But the toll on him was monumental. Every life brought back siphoned a fraction of his essence. Even with the Phoenix Force sustaining him, his body began to tremble under the strain. Sweat poured down his face, and his breath came in ragged gasps.

Jean's voice rang in his mind. "Aron, you're pushing too far. You don't have to do it all at once."

"No," he replied aloud, his voice strained but resolute. "Trust me. I got this. I need your help. Help those who are coming back to life to forget the moment of their death and stabilize their mind. I can't focus on two jobs at once. Help them, Jean."

"Alright," Jean responded softly as she used her psychic ability to alter the thoughts of everyone who came back to life, obscuring the details of their deaths and helping them stabilize their mind.

As the last dead girl came back to life, Aron let the power go, his body visibly exhausted. The golden flames around him faded, leaving only faint traces of their warmth lingering in the air. He blacked out for a moment and fell from the sky.

Ironman shot into the air and caught Aron just before he hit the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

"Good work, kid. I've no idea what you did or how you did it. But, you saved all of them."

Aron tried to smile, but the exhaustion kept his eyelids heavy. His brain was throbbing with pain, and he felt like he could sleep for the next few days. But when they landed, he managed to push back that exhaustion and looked around. The crowds of survivors and heroes were looking at him in awe. There was a brief moment of silence.

The little girl from earlier ran up to him, her stuffed animal still clutched in her hand. "You saved everyone," she said, her voice trembling. "Even my mommy."

Aron knelt in front of her, his expression soft but weak. "You're safe now," he said, gently ruffling her hair. "That's all that matters."

Behind him, the Avengers, X-Men, and other heroes gathered. Tony was the first to break the silence. "Well," he said, his voice tinged with awe and sarcasm, "that's one way to end a bad day."

Jean walked to Aron, her expression both proud and worried. "Aron, you did it," she said softly. "You brought them back."

He gave a faint smile. "I did what had to be done. Besides, I've had help."

The city was silent, not in devastation but in reverence. The people stood still, watching Aron as though he were a deity descended from the heavens. Whispers began to spread through the crowd.

"Who is he?"

"An angel?"

"Is he a god?"

The golden afterglow of the Phoenix Force still clung faintly to him, like a divine aura. Survivors—people who moments ago had been grieving over lost loved ones—knelt in gratitude. Some clasped their hands together, murmuring prayers of thanks. Others simply stared in awe, their minds struggling to comprehend what they had witnessed. It ain't every day one gets to see dead coming back to life.

Jean's voice had reached only a few ears, but it was enough. The name passed from one person to another like wildfire.

"Aron."

"Aron saved us."

"Thank you, Aron."

The whispers grew louder, converging into a chant that echoed through the streets. "Aron! Aron! Aron!"

Aron stood in the center of it all. He looked around, his expression conflicted. The gratitude, the reverence—it should have been comforting, but it wasn't. All he saw was a city of people who were looking at him as though he were some sort of savior. As if he were some sort of god. But he was no god. He was just a young man who wanted to live a peaceful life without any worries and maybe help out others every now and then.

He raised a hand, his voice firm but kind. "Please," he said, addressing the crowd. "I'm not a god. I'm just… someone trying to help."

His words didn't have the intended effect. If anything, they seemed to strengthen the awe of those around him. A man stepped forward, his hands trembling as he held them out toward Aron. "You brought my son back," he said, tears streaming down his face. "He was gone, and now he's here. How can you say you're not a god?"

A woman joined him, holding a baby who had been revived from the rubble. "You're a miracle," she whispered. "A savior."

Aron took a step back, his mind racing. He felt Jean's presence beside him, her hand resting gently on his arm. She didn't say anything, but her expression spoke volumes. She was worried.

Nick Fury watched the unfolding scene from a distance, his jaw tight. He turned to Natasha, his voice low. "This isn't good."

Natasha crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on Aron. "What do you expect, Fury? He just brought the dead back to life. People are going to see him as a god whether he likes it or not."

Tony Stark, leaning heavily on his damaged suit, smirked weakly. "Well, if he is a god, he's got terrible PR. Someone get him a press agent before this gets out of hand."

Jean stepped forward, raising her voice to address the crowd. "Aron is not a god," she said firmly, her telepathic powers amplifying her words so that everyone could hear. "He's a person—a hero—who did what he could to save lives. Just like all of us." She looked at the Avengers, X-Men, and emergency responders. "We're all in this together."

The crowd's murmurs quieted, but the reverence in their eyes didn't fade.

Despite Jean's words, the story of Aron's deeds began to spread far beyond the immediate survivors. News crews had captured everything—the golden flames, the miraculous resurrections, and the awe-struck faces of those he saved. Within hours, Aron's name trended worldwide. Social media exploded with hashtags: #AronTheSavior, #DevilorGod, #GodAmongUs.

Religious leaders debated the implications of what they had seen. Scientists struggled to explain the phenomenon. Conspiracy theorists spun wild tales about his origins. Some speculated that he was an alien; others believed he was an ancient god reborn.

In the shadows of the Internet, a nascent cult began to form, calling itself 'The Children of Aron.' Their message was simple: Aron was a divine being sent to guide humanity through its darkest times.

...

[Back to School] [Aron's room]

Kurt teleported Aron back to the school at the Professor's request.

"Thanks, man," Aron stumbled on his bed. "Just need to catch a nap. I feel so exhausted."

"What happened?" Kurt asked.

"Ask, Jean..." With that, he fell asleep.

...

Aron woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat. The exhaustion he felt moments ago was replaced by a sensation both familiar and disorienting. His room was gone, replaced by a surreal, otherworldly ambiance.

He recognized this place immediately. He was back in Lady Death's realm.

'Ah... Crap!' He sighed.

Unlike before, the oppressive gloom had given way to an odd elegance. The skies, a swirling mix of black and deep purple, shimmered faintly with stars that seemed unnervingly alive. The ground was smooth and cold beneath his feet, obsidian-like, reflecting faint ripples of silver light. Ahead of him stood an enormous spiral staircase, each step shimmering as though made of moonlight solidified.

Aron sighed, rubbing his temples. 'Not again.'

He glanced down at himself. His usual attire was intact, though faint traces of the golden glow from the Phoenix Force still lingered at his fingertips.

The staircase before him seemed to tell him to go up. He hesitated, but a deep, sultry voice echoed from above.

"Are you coming, or do I have to fetch you myself, mortal?"

Aron groaned. "Fantastic."

Shaking his head, he began climbing. Each step resonated faintly, the sound more like a heartbeat than stone meeting foot. As he climbed up, the air grew warmer, the stars brighter.

At the top of the stairs, he found himself in a grand chamber. He looked back, but the stairs were gone. The room was immense, its walls decorated with intricate carvings of life, death, and everything in between. The centerpiece, however, was impossible to miss—a massive bed draped in deep black and crimson.

Lying on her stomach, barely covered in flowing black silks that revealed more than they concealed, was Lady Death.

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[15 advance chapters] [No double billing] 

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AN: 'Bad_News_83' STOP spamming nonstop like 10-20 comments and the same comments in the paragraph. It was even worse in the last chapter. Stop doing that. It's annoying. Why do that? If you don't like the story, leave instead of screaming like an annoying brat. Next: I have made it clear from the start that MC is a good person, not some edge lord. Next: I make MC use power, some scream why isn't he using Phoenix Force and other powers, when I just do that, the same ones scream why is he using it for good. 😂😂 I mean, MC ain't an evil person, I thought that was clear.