It was raining fire—at least, that’s what it looked like. Chunks of metal and human flesh, both in flames, descended from the sky in a revolting apocalypse scene. The air smelled like blood and everything was painted in red. Quentin stood in the middle of the battlefield, completely exhausted, his breath ragged, his limbs trembling, his mind pulsing with the echoes of thousands of final thoughts from the fallen. The voices and pain were clouding his senses, but he had to keep fighting. Pure instinct demanded that he battle these god-like creatures, enormous extradimensional aliens with hostile intentions. Avengers, Inhumans, mutants—none were strong enough. Earth was losing, and Quentin was one of the last men standing, even if he already knew they were doomed.
An explosion, voices, more fighting. At this point, it didn’t matter. The Phoenix Force was eating him from the inside, trying to escape his faltering body. He needed a pause, just a few minutes to reaffirm his bond with the eternal fire so he could return to the battle. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and then he heard it—the voice that wished for things to explode and the earth to shatter. The sorcerer kid. In that moment, his mind cleared, and they were not hopeless anymore.
“YOU! You’re the Witch Boy!” Quentin ran towards the male figure descending to the ground, surrounded by a light blue glow.
“Wiccan, I... Look, we don’t have time for this, Omega. People are dying. We must keep fighting.” The sorcerer’s voice was hoarse, tired from shouting spells for hours. He looked as roughed up and devastated as Quentin himself.
“Why haven’t you wished them to disappear already? You could do that, couldn’t you?” Quentin knew all about the Demiurge. With his powers enhanced by the Phoenix, there were few things he didn’t know.
The look on Billy’s face was one of deep guilt.
“I won’t do that.” He looked away and tried to leave, but Quentin stopped him by firmly grabbing his arm.
“WHY!? PEOPLE ARE FUCKING DYING! You said you can stop it, so why are you letting them die?” Rage bubbled in Quentin’s chest as he tried his best not to punch the sorcerer in the face.
“IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE! You don’t understand. Every word spoken, every movement made is a thread in reality! Sure, you can pull a little, make some things happen, but what you’re asking is to rip a hole through it! There are too many variables; you don’t know what it could cause. Reality has a very crude way of showing you that things can always get worse.” A building collapsed a few kilometers away, and the sound of it made Wiccan crumble, despair and guilt painted all over his face.
Quentin wasn’t giving up. He took the sorcerer’s other arm and shook him back into sanity.
“Listen, this is what I heard. You actually CAN wish those creatures into nonexistence, but you WON’T because it would create so many variables you can’t cover, potentially unleashing a worse apocalypse upon us, right?”
“Basically, yes. I can’t take that risk... I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“But I’m not.”
All of a sudden, Quentin’s lips were on Billy’s, and everything around them disappeared into a dark void. Nothing existed but them.
“Wha...?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Billy heard his voice, but his lips didn’t move; he couldn’t move them.
“Did you receive any kind of training, Kaplan? Just a kiss, and BAM! Your shields are down, and I’m now in your brain.” Quentin’s voice was there too, but their bodies were immobile.
“Oh God, PLEASE don’t force me to do it!” Wiccan’s fear was so strong it almost snapped Quentin out of his mind, but he made an effort to stay. This could be Earth’s last chance, and he wasn’t wasting it.
“Shut it, Drama Queen. I’m not forcing you to do anything... I’m going to help you do it.”
“Help me? What do you mean? How?”
“I can control the variables. I can analyze them to a safe extent, one by one. If I find something that could go wrong, we fix it before it happens. Now show me your reality blanket.”
“IMPOSSIBLE! Analyzing every possibility one by one? How can you do that?”
“Do you think I received the Phoenix Force just for my pretty face? Let me show you the extent of my mind... you’ll see.”
Quentin opened the gates of his mind, and fire poured over Billy’s being. For a moment, everything was understandable; the logic was flawless, and all questions had answers. Billy’s chest burned with the intensity of the Phoenix infinity, and Quentin felt reality curl between his fingers, so fragile and malleable. Their souls understood and complemented each other, attracted like magnets. It was so simple—they fit perfectly: the designer and the maker, the cause and the consequence. The universe, all the universes, were in the palm of their hands, and he, they, understood them in their very core. Everything made sense.
Their minds split after that, and they were back in the battlefield, panting and shaking with adrenaline, their bodies vibrating with the strength of what they had just experienced.
“Oh GOD! QUITE! DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE?!”
“I... I did... but I didn’t... know it was going to be so intense! So ABSOLUTE!”
“I think we really can DO IT!”
“WE CAN DO EVERYTHING, MOTHERFUCKER!” Quentin didn’t know when, but his arms curled around the sorcerer’s waist. His being ached to return to where he was complete. How had he lived all this time without it? The need crept over his body with an addict’s urgency. All that power.
Billy understood too and kissed him again. There was no lust, no feelings—those were too human for them. This was something much bigger and more powerful, an overwhelming desire for IMMENSITY, for DIVINITY.
“Let’s save the day, Quire...” Billy panted.
“Let’s save ETERNITY, Kaplan...”