the past becomes my present
He shouldn’t have been surprised that The Avengers came knocking after all that had happened, but here he was, standing shell shocked and in a holocall with Captain Marvel, Bruce Banner, and Wong. Katy stood next to him however, his only lifeline in a hurricane of crazy; she even looked more at ease than he did.
They were discussing the Ten Rings, of course. Objects of such immense power demanded an audience and a hearing, which the sorcerers of the New York Sanctum Sanctorum were eager to provide. They had scanned the Rings with every identifying spell and rune they could conjure, but their secrets remained elusive. They were not from any ancient warlock’s arsenal, nor were they uncovered from a burial site or a place of worship. No text or novel ever written discussed their origin in detail or even revealed their true age. As far as any of them knew, the Ten Rings were a complete unknown, a black hole in the entire expanse of human history.
The only writings the sorcerers found of them were recollections of Xu Wenwu’s many battles and wars over the ages. One Ten Rings’ military report from the 14th century described them as haloes of icy flames that devoured their enemies like a starving dragon. Another scant piece of written word, this time from a peasant onlooker’s journal, reverently depicted the warlord’s weapons as The Hand of God moving expertly over a Go! board to secure him the victory.
As fascinating as these tales were to read, they got the trio nowhere. The only conclusion they came to after hours of combing through the Sanctum’s libraries was that the Rings must have been from off-planet. What other explanation could there be? That was when they consulted both Dr. Banner and Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel herself. If anyone knew of incredibly powerful cosmic artifacts, it would be her. She had been all over the universe helping various galactic civilizations by this point; her knowledge would be invaluable for sure.
They were terribly disappointed, however. She came up empty, having heard nothing of the Rings across her travels. They were as foreign to her as they were to the sorcerers. Bruce also couldn’t identify them; they were not made of a metal or material native to the Earth, and their vibrational frequency was all out of whack. He couldn’t make heads or tails of their atomic makeup either, which was supremely strange, even to Carol Danvers, who had thought she’d seen just about everything the galaxy had to offer.
The most disconcerting part, though, was that the Rings were emitting some sort of signal. It was faint, but it was constant. Pinging steadily, out into space like a beacon.
They didn’t know it was a beacon, of course, but it was highly likely according to Dr. Banner. The consistency was undeniably deliberate, but whether or not it was a call for help or a different summons altogether was up for debate.
They did all come to a decision, that being that Shang-Chi was to be the Ten Rings keeper indefinitely or until their true owner came knocking. He had been bequeathed the Rings as his father’s dying wish, and they clearly responded to his will above all others. His soul was kind and he harbored no desire to use them for evil, so the Avengers gave him their full support in utilizing them as he wished, provided that he come when they call.
So, essentially…..he was an Avenger in reserve now.
Holy shit.
That was exactly Katy’s response when they left the holo-meeting with Captain Marvel and Banner. She jumped up and down with childlike excitement and shook her best friend's shoulders. They shared a jolly laugh and Shang-Chi pretended like everything was great and fine and not totally worrying him to all hell.
The Avengers just gave him sole custodianship of the Ten Rings, ancient objects that no one knew anything about. They could’ve been an eldritch being’s cup holder or an infinity stone level threat….yet they let him keep them, to do whatever he pleases.
They didn’t know him, not really. They had just met him, and from Katy’s heavily biased testimony…just believed that he was an upstanding guy with a heart of gold. Carol had smiled slightly at him and nodded her approval. Dr. Banner had scrutinized him with a more unforgiving glare, but had softened immensely once they had started talking. Wong played fast and loose with him, as he did with seemingly everyone, but ultimately trusted him with the Rings. There wasn’t a whiff of suspicion coming from any of them, and that confused Shang-Chi, try as he might to just accept their faith in him.
They didn’t know the full story, not like Katy did. How she still treated him normally was beyond his understanding; he had killed someone in cold blood when he was only fourteen. He had liked it, too. If he met someone with that kind of baggage under their belt, he’d be at least a little wary of them.
Then again, maybe that was his trauma talking. He’d been trained from childhood to think that anyone was a potential enemy and that betrayal might be just around the corner. Old habits were hard to shake, especially ones that were literally beaten into him with a wooden pole. But Shang-Chi tried to store those irksome thoughts of the past away; they were not welcome at karaoke night.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
He awoke with a cold sweat.
The nightmare bled fast from his memory, but the shadowy vestiges were still lodged in his mind. The Dweller in Darkness, great in size and even more terrifying in power. Wenwu’s eyes, first mad with sorrow and painful rage, then fatherly pride, and finally fading into the cold embrace of death. The blue glow of the Rings shifting to a brilliant orange as they jumped from his dad’s lifeless arms and onto Shang-Chi’s.
The last thing that he could recall from the dream was the feeling, nay, the impression the Rings left on his forearms as he used them to slay the Dweller in Darkness. It had been a pressure, a cool kiss of powerful metal on skin that sunk down to his bones and blood. He felt the Rings presence sing in his mind as he sent them down to kill the great beast that threatened him and his family. He continued to feel them as they swiftly burnt the vitality out of the Dweller, and he subconsciously recalled them to return home. And return they did. The Rings rested yet again across the length of his arms and granted him their perpetuity.
They hummed lightly in his mind. That was the clearest memory by far from Shang-Chi’s dream. That delicate, tinny sound of the Rings’ mental connection with him. At any moment he could just….reach out and ask anything of them. If he so wished, they would fly out to any distance, large or small, and do his great work. Their glowing mark would spider web across his arms and bestow upon him the same power that his late father also possessed. It was his turn to use them; he was worthy.
Suddenly, Shang-Chi jolted out of his trance and glanced down. The hum in his mind sang as he saw the Rings on his forearms. He must have called out to them while he was consumed in his thoughts.
They glowed a soft orange, and then collapsed from ready position into resting as simple wrist ornaments. From there, they were easy to remove.
But, Shang-Chi felt something curious as the last ring stopped touching his skin. The extra surge of energy, hyper awareness, and supernatural vitality he had gained from donning them had not merely been evidence of their potential combat power, no, but it had been their other gift of immortality. In those brief few seconds of wearing them he had felt sturdier, immovable, constant. Like he was cut from the cloth of the universe’s fabric itself.
Shang-Chi’s fingers twitched. He suddenly yearned for the Rings to grace his bare skin once again; maybe they had the power to mercifully erase the dreadful nightmares from his mind. The connection sprang to life between them and dreamless sleep came like a rain cloud in winter.