Max_Striker
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Chapter 22: Goodbye, Groovy King
🕑 Added 2025-06-25 04:32:42 +0000 UTCThe Exiles hit warm sand instead of concrete for once. Dean blinked in the bright light. This place was nuts—waves that glowed blue-green, trees with rainbow bark, and actual jellyfish floating through the air like balloons.
"Well," he said, brushing sand off his hoodie. "Either we're in someone's screensaver or I'm having the weirdest dream ever."
Khan stretched her arms over her head. Her powers felt... quiet. Not tense, not ready to fight. Just calm. "This place is trippy as hell."
Nathaniel's armor was beeping softly. "No threats detected. Actually, I'm reading negative stress levels across the entire area. That should be impossible."
"'Tis peaceful," Valkyrie said. She actually let go of her sword. First time Dean had seen her do that. "No anger here. Just... calm."
A wave rolled up the beach, carrying the most relaxed version of Namor any of them had ever seen. His black hair was long with shells braided in. He wore a flower necklace and sandals made of seaweed. The guy looked like he'd never had a bad day in his life.
"Hey there, travelers," he said. His voice sounded like gentle waves on a beach. "You all look pretty stressed. Want some fruit? Maybe float in the lagoon for a while? It's good for the soul."
Khan's jaw dropped. "That's Namor? The angry fish guy who's always threatening to flood everything?"
"This is Namor if he quit being king and started making meditation videos," Dean said.
"Never did I expect to see the Sea-King wearing... hemp," Valkyrie whispered.
But Blink stepped forward, eyes going wide. "Wait... MORPH?!"
A yellow blob bounced out from behind some coral. It shifted instantly into a perfect copy of Dean, complete with the golden glow around his hands.
"Blink!" The fake Dean beamed, then shifted back to yellow blob form. "You look exactly the same! Time travel's weird, right?"
"MORPH!" Blink teleported straight into his arms, crying. "We thought you were dead! We thought—"
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Morph laughed, hugging her tight. "Turns out dying's just another Tuesday when you're an Exile. I've been here... honestly, no clue how long. Time moves different when you're this relaxed."
Dean watched them hug and felt something loosen in his chest. One team member back from the dead. That had to count for something.
Namor led them deeper into what he called New Atlantis. It wasn't underwater though. Instead, it was a glowing forest with hammocks strung between crystal trees. Pools of clear water reflected the aurora that danced across the sky even though it was daytime. People played instruments made of living coral, and everything moved in slow motion.
"Stay as long as you want," Namor said, settling into a hammock. "No war here. No fighting. No deadlines. Just... being."
Wolvie immediately ran off with some sea-otter kids who were playing the world's slowest game of tag. Nathaniel gave up trying to scan anything and started learning to play a harp that was somehow made of whale song. Khan floated in a meditation pool like a starfish, arms spread wide.
Dean found himself under a glowing tree, actually relaxing for the first time in months. "Real talk? I could get used to this."
The tree's light pulsed gently, like a heartbeat. No missions. No responsibilities. No one depending on him to save reality.
Blink sat with Morph by one of the reflecting pools. The water showed them as kids, before all the fighting and dying and losing people.
"How long have you been here?" she asked.
"Could be days, could be years," Morph shrugged. He turned into a lotus flower, then back to himself. "Namor found me washed up on the beach, literally falling apart. Pieces of me scattered everywhere. He put me back together, helped me remember who I was before all the missions."
"And you didn't want to leave?"
Morph's face got serious. For a second, he looked older. Tired. "Blink, I've been watching teammates die for years. Different teams, different realities, same ending. This is the first place I've felt actually safe."
She understood. They all did.
Later, Namor found Dean sitting by himself on the warm sand, watching the aurora dance overhead.
"You carry a lot of weight," Namor said, settling beside him. "Might be not all of it's yours to carry."
Dean stared at the lights. They were beautiful, but he kept waiting for them to go out. "Doesn't matter. People are counting on me."
"The multiverse kept spinning before you were born. It'll keep spinning after you're gone. But you won't be here to see it if you burn yourself out carrying everyone else's problems."
"What if those problems destroy everyone I care about?"
Namor was quiet for a long moment. "You can't hold back the tide. But you can choose how to move with it. Maybe teach others to swim instead of drowning yourself trying to save them all."
Dean thought about that. About Khan learning to control her powers. About little Wolvie getting stronger. About Valkyrie finding peace between battles.
Maybe Namor had a point.
The wind stopped. Not slowed down—stopped completely.
Then the sound died. No more laughter, no more music, no more gentle waves. Just... silence that felt wrong.
Namor stood up, still peaceful but suddenly alert. "The tide turns."
The sky cracked like glass. Through the breaks, they saw something that hurt to look at. A black shape that didn't just block light but ate it, consuming everything it touched with endless hunger.
The Time-Eater.
"No," Dean whispered, scrambling to his feet. "Not here. This place is perfect."
The monster didn't roar or announce itself. It just started erasing things. The forest edges faded to nothing first. Then the crystal trees dissolved like sugar in rain. People didn't scream—they just weren't there anymore.
Namor faced the approaching void with the same calm he'd shown everything else. He looked back at Dean one last time.
"Remember," he said. "Move with the tide."
Then he was gone. Not killed—erased, like he'd never existed at all.
"MORPH!" Blink screamed, teleporting toward him.
But Morph was already fading, his shapeshifting ability flickering between forms as reality unraveled around him. He managed one last change—into a perfect copy of Blink, smiling her own smile back at her.
"Thanks for finding me again," he said in her voice.
Then he was gone too.
The world came apart thread by thread. Meditation pools drained into nothingness. Hammocks fell as their trees dissolved. The sea-otter kids faded like morning mist, their laughter cutting off mid-giggle.
"MORPH!" Blink fell to her knees where he'd been, grabbing at empty air. "Not again! I can't lose another one!"
"This entire reality is collapsing," Nathaniel said, his armor screaming alarms. "We have maybe ten seconds!"
Dean checked his Tallus. The device was barely working, flickering like a dying lightbulb. But it was their only shot.
"You said ride the wave," Dean muttered, thinking of Namor's words. "Let's ride it."
The Tallus exploded with golden light, tearing open a portal barely big enough for all of them.
"Everyone through! NOW!"
They dove into the breach as the last of paradise was consumed by darkness.
.
.
.
.
The Exiles crashed onto cold concrete in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Rain hammered against broken windows. The air tasted like rust and smoke and misery—the complete opposite of what they'd just lost.
Dean's Tallus went completely dark. The emergency jump had drained it.
"That's it," he said quietly. Explosions echoed somewhere in the distance. "No more paradise breaks. We keep moving, keep fighting, keep losing people we care about."
Little Wolvie hugged Dean's leg without saying anything. The kid had seen too much for someone his size.
Blink sat against a concrete wall, tears streaming down her face. "Morph was happy there. Really, actually happy for the first time in years. And we led that thing right to him."
"We didn't lead it anywhere," Dean said firmly. "The Time-Eater goes where it wants. We just have the worst timing in the multiverse."
"Do we though?" Khan asked bitterly. She was back to being tense, ready to fight. "Or does trouble follow us? Maybe people die because we show up."
Dean didn't have an answer for that. Maybe she was right. Maybe they were cursed.
Nathaniel's armor was already scanning their new surroundings. "This world's in the middle of a major war. Multiple factions, high-tech weapons, massive casualties. The whole city's a battleground."
"Of course it is," Khan said. "Paradise to hell. That's our pattern now."
Through the broken windows, they could see fires burning across the skyline. Planes or flying soldiers zipped between buildings, trading energy blasts. Somewhere, people were screaming.
Valkyrie stood up, hand finding her sword again. "Then we do what Exiles do. Find the fight that needs fighting."
"What's the point?" Blink asked, not getting up. "We'll save this world, lose someone else, and the Time-Eater will probably show up to wreck it anyway."
Dean looked at his team. Really looked at them. They were tired. Beaten down. They'd lost Morph twice now, plus everyone else along the way. They were kids and broken adults playing cosmic heroes because someone had to.
But they were still here. Still together. Still willing to try.
"Namor was right about one thing," Dean said, helping Blink to her feet. "We can't hold back the tide. But we can help others learn to swim."
Another explosion lit up the night outside. Their next mission was calling, whether they wanted it or not.
"The Time-Eater's going to keep coming," Dean continued. "People are going to keep dying. The multiverse is huge and cruel and sometimes beautiful and mostly terrible."
He looked each of them in the eye. "But that doesn't mean we stop. It means we make every save count. Every person we help, every world we fix—that matters. Even if it doesn't last forever."
Blink wiped her eyes and stood straighter. "For Morph?"
"For Morph," Dean agreed. "And Namor. And everyone else we couldn't save but tried to anyway."
The Exiles walked toward the warehouse door, toward the sound of battle and people who needed help. They carried their grief and their hope in equal measure, because that's what heroes do.
Outside, the war was waiting for them.
