Melting Chapter 77: Plotting Against Tiamut (Patreon)

Countless lightning chains, each thousands of meters long, shot up from the surface of Ego’s planet.

They wriggled like living tentacles, slithering toward Aaron. But he paid no heed to them. With a simple jolt of his massive hand, the Sword of Doom—enhanced by gravitational might—sliced through hundreds of those tentacles and plunged deep into the planet’s crust.

In order to drive the sword all the way to the planet’s core, Aaron used his gravity control, plus the billions of tons of force from his colossal body.

Even a planet of vibranium would be split in two by such a blow. A thunderous roar reverberated as the ground fractured, and crimson flames erupted from beneath the surface.

The bubbling magma burned away everything in its path. At the point of impact, matter vaporized from the intense heat. Within seconds, the sword had gone more than ten kilometers down, forming a horrific lava shaft spewing flames.

Ego went pale. No matter how he tried to command the planet’s crust, he couldn’t stop the sword from burrowing closer to his core. Growing desperate, he suddenly let out a shaky laugh. “Hahaha, your sword isn’t long enough to reach me!”

“Oh really?” Aaron’s eyes flashed gold. He gave a twist of both hands, pouring an even greater power through the Sword of Doom.

Ego sensed it vividly. He could feel terrifying energy flaring up throughout the planet—micro-particles obeying Aaron’s command, coalescing into a staggering cosmic might.

The entire Sword of Doom turned golden, a fusion of countless energized particles and bright red flame, forming the world’s last dazzling burst of light.

Boom!!

A red-gold radiance pierced straight through the planet. Its energy didn’t just halt; Aaron amplified it to trigger an explosion.

“This ends now!” Aaron released his sword. At the instant of detonation, he teleported to the shattered brain tissue, grabbed a chunk of it, then blinked up into space.

Gazing down from the void, he watched the planet turn into cosmic fireworks. Flooded with that energy, Ego’s world blew apart, its remaining brain matter incinerated in a raging inferno. Ego managed only one final furious roar.

Then the cosmos fell silent once more. Aside from drifting fragments, it was as though that planet—and all life on it—had never existed.

Aaron didn’t leave yet. With a sharp, scrutinizing gaze, he surveyed every last trace, making certain Ego was dead beyond doubt. Only then did he melt down the piece of brain tissue he’d collected:

[Heart of a Celestial: Similar ability detected and merged. Your brain capacity has developed further, granting near-immortality—able to survive indefinitely even without a body.]

[Energy Mastery: Similar ability detected and merged. Your skill at wielding energy has increased; you can almost perfectly manipulate any form of cosmic radiation.]

[Matter Manipulation: Similar ability detected and merged. Your ability to manipulate subatomic particles has improved, making it easier to reshape matter.]

[...]

Aaron recalled how he had absorbed the “Celestial Flower” earlier. The traits were basically the same, except now they were on a higher level. Well, it made sense—this was Ego’s true body, not a dormant extension.

“Come to think of it,” Aaron mused, “there’s a slumbering Celestial named Tiamut under Earth’s crust. What if I just gobble him up too?”

According to the timeline, Tiamut only needed a few more years to develop into a complete being.

Moreover, Tiamut was far more special than Ego, not only in maturity but also in sheer genetic potential. Tiamut was one of the most unusual Celestials—possibly capable of surpassing even the Celestial Prime to become an omnipotent entity.

Ego, even if fully grown, would’ve been only a run-of-the-mill Celestial by comparison. If Aaron melted Tiamut down, his power would skyrocket.

“No, I still need to wait,” he told himself. Killing a helpless Tiamut might be straightforward—but it would inevitably provoke Arishem, the Celestial Prime.

Tiamut, especially in this universe, clearly wasn’t a match for Arishem (he was even turned to stone by a group of Eternals, albeit off guard).

So that suggested Tiamut was weaker than Arishem. Even with Tiamut’s power, Aaron wasn’t confident he could beat Arishem. That being could toy with an entire galaxy in his hands—definitely a cosmic-level god, if not fully “universal tier.”

“Clearly, I’m still too weak,” Aaron muttered. He spun around and opened another dark-energy gate, vanishing in seconds.

Moments later, Aaron was back at Osborn Corp—where he found various “big players” all staring at him, dumbfounded.

Odin was silent, Thor looked vacant, and Loki seemed lost. Tony Stark, Coulson, and the military reps were in much the same state: Who are we again? Why are we here?

With a pleasant smile, Aaron gave a polite gesture. “All done. Anyone care to come inside for a chat?”

“...”

Silence reigned. All the onlookers exchanged looks until Coulson suddenly said, “I, um, just remembered I have other matters. We’ll talk next time.”

With that, he hurriedly led his team away. The others also made excuses to depart. As absurdly half-baked as the crisis had been, at least it was over. Now they needed time to digest all they’d witnessed and decide how to deal with Aaron in the future—whether as equals or on their knees…

“Well, with the Celestial handled, I’d best get going. The banquet back home still needs me,” Odin murmured after a moment, then added, “Thor, Loki, you two stay here with the alien woman and accompany Aaron. The rest of you, with me!” He gave Aaron a nod, then asked Heimdall to activate the Bifrost and departed.

“Uncle, what about her?” Loki sidled over, all smiles. Yes, that’s the real big shot—my meal ticket. Aaron didn’t mind Loki and Thor staying. Eyeing Mantis—who looked uneasy—he walked up. She shrank back as Aaron reached out and briefly touched the antennae on her forehead.

“No…don’t touch that!” she squeaked, both scared and curious. “What did you do to my master?!” she demanded, suspecting what Aaron had gone off to do. She couldn’t fathom how their supposedly simple trip to find someone had turned into all of this.

“He?” Aaron shrugged. “He’s fully at one with nature now,” he said casually. “You might say he’s achieved the eternity he’s always wanted. His whole body is everywhere, so in a sense, he’s eternal.”

Loki and Thor’s mouths twitched. What nonsense. But Mantis brightened. “Really? Then he really did attain eternity! He achieved his greatest dream!”

“...”

Loki face-palmed. Wow, guess she really is naive. Aaron wasn’t surprised by her gullibility. She’d never interacted with others, raised on Ego’s planet solely to help him sleep—practically a pet. She had no real sense of her own or normal boundaries.

Her abilities, though, were impressive. Aaron lightly cut her arm. “Ah!! That’s…my blood?”

Mantis asked, perplexed. “Are you hurting me?” Yet she sensed no malicious intent from him, thanks to her empathic powers that detect one’s emotions upon contact. She only knew he wasn’t out to harm her.

Without replying, Aaron collected her blood and gently pressed the wound closed, healing it instantly. Mantis gaped, touching the spot. “Wow, your hands are amazing—healed me in an instant.” Aaron wasn’t bothered by her praise; he simply melted her blood down:

[Empathic Resonance: You can discern a person’s emotional state through touch, and also share your emotions with them.]

[Mental Control (Psychic Power): Similar ability detected and merged. By physical contact, you can forcibly influence another’s mind and put them to sleep.]

Perfect. The empathic part was nice, but the mental control was more valuable. He’d already gained Ego’s mind powers and the Eye of Moksha’s mental powers, meaning he could already dominate almost anyone below Skyfather level.

Mantis’s addition boosted it further. Indeed, in the MCU, Mantis had proven to be a lethal support if she got in close, pacifying even a Celestial Ego and a gauntleted Thanos.

A near-flawless close-range control. If Star-Lord’s Celestial punch hadn’t undone it, Infinity War might have ended right there. No “if,” though.

“I sense you’re happy,” Mantis murmured. “Is it about my blood…or healing me?” she asked, puzzled.

“Your master left you in my care,” Aaron said offhandedly. Mantis—ever trusting—just blinked, then lowered her head sadly.

But her emotions flipped back soon enough, because she didn’t fully grasp sadness. She was mimicking how others behaved, like a newborn in terms of real social knowledge.

Thor walked over and pointed at her head. “So what’s with her? Something wrong up here?” Mantis didn’t consider it insulting; she just patted her own head, looking equally confused.

Aaron glanced at Thor. “She’s Ego’s daughter—basically a living tool to help him sleep. A pet, more or less.”

“Huh?!”

…

Meanwhile, on the trip back to the banquet, Odin seemed distant. Frigga, who had been waiting at the palace gates, asked him what happened. He muttered, “Maybe we all had it wrong…

“That prophecy about someone destroying the Golden City wasn’t about Thor unleashing Ragnarök. It was about Aaron destroying Ego’s planet—a true dusk of the gods, but it was the Celestial’s dusk. Aaron…actually killed one of the Celestials!”

The scene had been too familiar: a fortress, a giant wreathed in flames and wielding a giant sword, thrusting it into a planet’s core until it shattered into cosmic dust. Aaron’s power exceeded even peak Surtur. Odin was no longer sure he could beat Aaron, even at the cost of his life, which made him shudder.

Frigga was baffled. “He killed a Celestial? But isn’t he a Celestial too?”

Odin shook his head. “Because Aaron refused to leave with Ego, Ego tried to force him. I’m relieved I never tried strong-arm tactics when I first approached Aaron… or Asgard would have been the first Ego planet. But thinking about it…” He trailed off, an unease creeping over him.

Frigga sensed his worry. “What is it?”

“I might’ve guessed wrong,” Odin said, staring at the lively banquet hall. “I used to think Aaron was possibly Borr’s son or an Aesir from another universe. But just now—seeing him wield the Twilight Sword—I suddenly thought of another possibility.”

“What possibility?” Frigga asked.

Odin hesitated as though the words were difficult to utter. “Could it be that Aaron isn’t my brother at all…but my uncle?”

“Ah?” Frigga gasped. What… That would turn her “brother-in-law” into “uncle”? Then what would Thor and Loki call him—Grandpa? The idea was insane.

But Odin seemed unsettled. “Aaron has Odinforce and the God of Thunder’s power—inheritances that come from our ancestors and from Borr’s generation. On top of that, he appears to have Surtur’s power, letting him so easily wield the Twilight Sword and Eternal Flame. It made me think of another explanation.” He paused. “Aaron might be the physical manifestation of the World Tree.”

Frigga was left speechless. Odin took a deep breath, as startled by his own words as she was.

But it wasn’t impossible. The Nine Realms formed a small cosmic cluster linked by the World Tree, and Asgard’s ancient records speculated that the Realms’ powers stemmed from it.

Each realm—Asgard, Jotunheim, Muspelheim, and so on—was tied to Yggdrasil. Asgard bore the Aesir and inherited their unique power. Every Asgardian king was spiritually bound to that realm, akin to a “dimensional warlock.”

So if the World Tree birthed the Nine Realms and the Nine Realms nurtured their gods, Aaron, if truly the World Tree’s incarnation, would rule them all on a fundamental level. He’d literally be the Nine Realms’ “ancestor,” so calling him an ancient forefather wouldn’t be wrong.

To test this idea was simple: see if Aaron possessed the unique energies of all those realms. If so, then that’s huge. Odin recalled how Aaron once claimed he could copy the powers of others.

But if Earth had no Celestials, how’d he get that power? If Thor’s thunder was locked in Mjölnir, how did Aaron manage it? And how did he get Odinforce or Asgardian “god-king privileges” without ever meeting Odin before? Did it appear out of thin air?

Worst of all, how was he able to forge multiple Mjölnirs, each imparting the same thunder power? True, multiple people can wield thunder powers simultaneously if found worthy—like Jane Foster, Stormbreaker Thor, or Captain America with the hammer.

Their thunder magic derived from Thor’s bloodline. But how did Aaron create four hammers that all granted such power? Could he be the living manifestation of the World Tree…or Asgard itself?

Mulling it over, Odin just got more confused. Are we seriously about to discover some higher “ancestor” is among us? Grandpa dear, let Odin bow?

“Ugh, forget it! Let’s get back to the banquet,” he finally grumbled.