Omniscience in Marvel

163: Reveal and Birthright End

Picture at the top is Aethon currently.

…

Aethon blinked, trying to process his father's words. "I have a grandma?" he asked in shock.

It was already hard enough to grasp the fact that his family was over a million years old. But now, on top of everything else, he had a grandmother?

How old would she be? Billions?

"Of course you do," Lucas replied, giving his son a perplexed look. "Did you think we just… appeared out of nowhere?"

Aethon hesitated before mumbling, "I mean… shouldn't she be a fossil by now?"

Lucas stared at him, speechless.

Aethon met his father's gaze, waiting for an answer. "What?"

Lucas exhaled, rubbing his temples. "How do you even come to these conclusions?"

"I don't know! My parents—hell, my whole family—are ancient beyond reason. How do you expect me to process the idea of someone even older?"

Lucas stared at his son, expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he gave a slow nod. "You make a valid argument."

Aethon folded his arms. "How old is she?"

Before Lucas could respond, a voice—rich, warm, and unfathomably ancient—whispered into Aethon's mind.

[It is impolite to ask a lady's age, young god.]

Aethon nearly jumped out of his seat, his pulse spiking as he looked around frantically. "What the—Did you hear that?" he whispered, clutching his head.

Lucas chuckled. "Yes. But she's not here physically. Your grandmother has… a unique way of making her presence known."

Aethon barely had time to process that before the vehicle came to a stop.

Lucas opened the door and stepped out, the cold air rushing in like a living force.

Aethon followed, only to freeze—both figuratively and literally—when his boots met solid ice. "What!?" His head snapped up, his eyes widening at the endless, white wasteland before him.

"Welcome to Antarctica," Lucas said casually, stepping forward.

Aethon's breath misted in the frigid air as he took in the stark, otherworldly landscape. The sheer, overwhelming silence of the place unsettled him.

"Antarctica?" he repeated, hugging his arms. "Why would you bring me here? How did we even get here?"

Lucas smirked. "Because this place isn't what it appears to be, as for how, do you think this is your average vehicle?" He gestured toward the vast expanse of ice. "Beneath this surface lies a hidden world, one that has been sealed away for countless ages."

Aethon frowned. "A hidden world? Like… an entire civilization?"

"Exactly." Lucas kept walking. "A place untouched by the outside world, where civilization continues to thrive in secrecy. They've retained a kind of primal existence, bound to the old ways."

Aethon shook his head in disbelief. Although he didn't understand what the old way his father spoke meant, he had some ideas. "But why would they live like that?"

[Because I am here, young one.]

Aethon's entire body jolted. This time, the voice was clearer, stronger, immensely ancient yet strangely familiar. It felt like a presence wrapping around him, warm yet incomprehensibly vast.

His eyes darted to his father. "That's her, isn't it?"

Lucas inclined his head. "Yes. That is Gaia. Your grandmother. She resides here, maintaining this land as a sanctuary."

Aethon swallowed hard, glancing around in awe. "So… this place is ancient because she's kept it that way?""

Aethon swallowed.

Gaia.

The name alone carried an almost mythical weight.

Lucas turned to gaze at the frozen land. "Long ago, before this world became what it is, this place was… something else entirely. Gaia cultivated it herself, nurturing its growth and preserving its purity. Some call it the birthplace of life. Others—the Garden of Eden."

Aethon's breath caught. "Wait… The Eden?"

Lucas glanced at him. "Some stories are true. Some aren't. What remains here is a fragment of something ancient, a hidden paradise, untouched by time and hidden from the world's corruption."

Aethon stared at the ice beneath his feet, his mind racing.

[This land is a sanctuary,] Gaia's voice whispered through him, her presence a gentle weight on his soul. [A remnant of the world as it once was...and what it could be again.]

Aethon shivered, but not from the cold.

There was something deeply humbling about hearing that from an entity who had watched the world for so long.

Lucas gestured at the ice beneath them. "Beneath this surface lies the heart of the hidden realm, a land unlike anything you've ever seen. The people here have lived unchanged for eons, their connection to Gaia keeping them… unspoiled."

[They are my children,] Gaia spoke again. [Bound to this land as its eternal guardians, even as the world changes beyond them.]

Aethon glanced at his father. "So… what am I supposed to do here?"

Lucas placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "This isn't just a history lesson, Aethon. You're here to understand your heritage. To connect with something deeper."

Gaia's voice followed, calm yet layered with an undeniable weight. [Come, young one. There is much for you to see.]

Aethon exhaled slowly.

Something about her voice felt heavy, like it carried the weight of ages past. It was both familiar and utterly foreign at the same time.

He glanced at Lucas, but his father's face gave away nothing. The man simply stood there, blue eyes unreadable.

"…Are you going to tell me why we're here?" Aethon finally asked.

Lucas smirked. "You'll find out soon enough."

Aethon groaned. "Of course. Vague wisdom. Classic."

Just then, the air shimmered and reality itself seemed to tremble.

Then, the ice split open as luminous portal, vast and celestial, materialized before them.

A gate woven from pure energy, pulsing with a radiance that felt both sacred and alive.

Aethon's breath hitched. It was like staring into the cosmos itself.

Then, two figures stepped through.

Angels.

Not the kind depicted in human art—these were something else. Something divine.

Their presence pressed down on Aethon like the weight of a thousand stars.

They stood between seven and eight feet tall, their forms wreathed in Holy energy.

Wings of silver and gold folded behind them, their feathers shifting like liquid light, radiating warmth yet exuding an untouchable majesty.

Aethon felt small before them.

The first had a gaze like a blade, sharp and knowing. He wore a medieval looking armor that shimmered like starlight, and in his hand, he held a spear, its tip wreathed in blue fire.

The second was more intense. His golden eyes burned with judgment and compassion alike.

He carried a great shield, its surface reflecting Aethon's own face, as if seeing straight into his soul.

Between them, suspended in the air, was a sword.

Aethon's eyes locked onto it as his heart pounded.

It was unlike any weapon he had ever seen, silver, yet alive with golden veins of light, as if it were breathing.

It thrummed with a presence so profound that even the ground beneath them seemed to recognize it.

Lucas exhaled, his expression unreadable. "The Sword of Heaven."

Aethon barely heard him, too transfixed by the blade. "That's… yours?"

Even if Aethon didn't possess an Enhanced Intelligence, with the information he had gathered so far, he could already conclude on his father's identity.

Lucas nodded. "Once. Forged from Yggdrasill's sacred branch, a gift from Gaia herself. It was left in their care when I no longer had a need for it."

Aethon glanced between his father, the angels, and the sword, trying to grasp the enormity of it all.

Gaia's voice returned, her tone almost affectionate. [It is a relic of your lineage, young one. A bridge between Heaven and Earth.]

Aethon exhaled shakily.

The angels turned their luminous gazes to Lucas and inclined their heads, not just in respect, but in solemn recognition.

No words were spoken, yet the air thrummed with meaning. They knew who stood before them. They had been waiting.

Aethon clenched his fists. "These are your angels?" he whispered.

Lucas nodded. "They have stood here since the beginning, ensuring that no one enters Eden without permission."

Aethon swallowed, his gaze shifting back to the sword.

The pull he felt toward it was undeniable.

For the first time in his life, he truly understood what his father had been trying to teach him.

He wasn't just a descendant of gods.

He was standing at the threshold of something far greater.

"This place… it holds the first echoes of my creations," Lucas said, his gaze sweeping over the expanse. "It is where everything began and where your path must begin as well."

Aethon swallowed, the air itself seeming heavier.

He didn't fully understand, but something in his very being responded.

A deep, unshakable knowing. "Then I'll walk it," he said, resolve hardening in his voice.

Lucas gave a nod of approval. "Then let us proceed. Defeat those two and retrieve that Sword."

"..." The Angels.

[...] Gaia

"..." Aethon.

Aethon stood with his arms crossed, staring up at the two towering angels before him.

Their presence felt ancient, their forms glowing with celestial light that pulsed like a heartbeat in the fabric of reality.

He glanced at his father, then at his mother who looked far too calm about the whole situation.

"So," Aethon began, cracking his neck as he rolled his shoulders, "I know you two love your elaborate lessons, but throwing me up against the literal guardians of Eden seems a bit… excessive? I mean, we could always just, you know, talk this out. Maybe grab a drink? No need to get the divine artifacts involved, right?"

Thena arched a perfect eyebrow, arms folded over her chest. "I don't recall raising a coward."

Aethon scoffed, unbothered by her quip. "Coward? No, no, no, I prefer the term strategist." He shot a hopeful glance at the angels, who remained as unmoving as statues. "Come on, we're all family here, right? Maybe a little leniency?"

Lucas chuckled. "Nice try." With a flick of his wrist, a metallic ring appeared in his palm, glowing with intricate inscriptions.

Aethon eyed it warily. "A ring? Seriously?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Dad, there's gotta be a limit to the whole 'mystical lesson' thing."

Lucas tossed it to him. "This is one of the S-rank weapons currently existing in the world you'll be stepping into."

Aethon caught the ring, narrowing his eyes. "S-Rank? You guys need a better naming system." He held it up, inspecting the inscriptions, but something about them remained unreadable—even with The Almighty.

Thena, watching his fascination, smirked. "Struggling, are we?"

Aethon huffed. "More like appreciating the craftsmanship."

Lucas bunked him on the head, snapping him out of his analysis. "That's the Spear of Longinus. You can't just see through it."

Aethon rubbed his head. "You know, for being an all-powerful cosmic being, you have some serious dad-tier habits."

Lucas only shrugged. "You'll appreciate them one day."

Ignoring him, Aethon slipped the ring onto his finger—only to wince as a sharp sting pricked his skin. "Ow!"

"Relax," Thena said, unimpressed. "It's just drawing a bit of your blood to bind itself to you."

Lucas, meanwhile, turned his attention back to the angels. "Their bodies are strong enough to be classified as S-Rank artifacts themselves. The sword adds a bit of an empowerment to them. It roughly puts you on equal footing."

Aethon, still focused on the ring, blinked at that last part. "Wait, what? Empowerment?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Did you think they were the only thing keeping people out of the Garden?"

Aethon frowned. "Then—"

"Yup. The Sword is the final defense if they fail."

"Then—"

"Yes, you actually stand a chance."

Aethon threw his hands up. "Damn it, Dad! Let me finish a sentence!"

Lucas smirked, glancing at Thena. "He gets that from you."

Thena only hummed in amusement.

Lucas turned back to Aethon. "Fine. Finish your sentence."

Aethon inhaled to speak—

And Lucas vanished.

So did The Sword.

And suddenly, Aethon found himself in an entirely different space. The angels now stood directly before him, no longer distant guardians but immediate opponents. One wielded a spear, the other a shield.

Aethon exhaled through his nose. "Tch. How petty can he be?"

Thena's voice echoed in his mind. {Focus, Aethon.}

Aethon smirked. {Yeah, yeah, I got this.} He stretched out his right hand, and the ring on his finger began to glow. A crimson light seeped from the inscriptions he couldn't read, swirling out like molten metal.

The air around his palm vibrated, dense with raw energy. The light extended, spiraling outward, taking shape midair. Sparks danced, growing brighter as the weapon formed.

The shaft was long and slender, yet impossibly sturdy. The spearhead materialized in a burst of divine energy, its blade gleaming with a radiance that seemed to pull at the surrounding space.

Aethon grinned, feeling the weapon settle perfectly into his grip. It felt right, as if it had always belonged to him.

Now he was ready.

He glanced at the angels, twirling the spear once before leveling it in front of him. "Alright," he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Let's see if the legends live up to the hype."