Chapter 407: [511] - Are You Willing to Bet Your Lives on That?

A bright shock wave folded in on itself, squeezing hard toward the center of the blast.

Hawk was still trapped at its center.

So was Ikaris.

The Eternal didn't look alive anymore. He looked like a man made of glass, his whole body covered in cracks. Deadly Celestial energy streamed from each break, all of it focused on Hawk.

For a moment, Hawk's question made Ikaris hesitate. Then he pushed away his doubts and returned to the only purpose he had ever known.

"I AM AN ETERNAL!" Ikaris declared, his hands locked around Hawk's forearms. "THE ETERNALS WILL ALWAYS SERVE THE CELESTIALS!"

Hawk's face had turned crimson under the pressure of the energy gathering around them.

"Then die for them," he answered.

Ikaris shattered.

His body turned into pure golden energy, and the storm of power swept up Hawk. A glowing mushroom cloud rose above Wall Street, silent and beautiful, but strong enough to wipe out a city.

The explosion vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

When the light faded, Hawk stood alone in the center of the blast.

The red battle suit Wanda made for him hung in burned pieces from his body. Most of it was gone, showing his strong frame, now marked by burns, cuts, and deep cracks.

His arms were hurt the most. The heat had turned them glassy, like sand melted in a furnace, and they were full of cracks.

Hawk looked toward Wanda, who stood atop the only high-rise left intact within six miles.

Then his strength gave out.

His knees struck the ground hard enough to shatter the glass beneath him.

Wanda's eyes narrowed.

Jean covered her mouth in horror.

"Dad!"

"Come on." Wanda caught Jean by the arm and stepped forward.

They disappeared from the rooftop. A moment later, they stood right in front of Hawk, who was still kneeling with his head down.

Jean immediately tried to rush to him, but Wanda pulled her back.

"Don't touch him," Wanda warned.

"But Dad—"

"I'm fine." Hawk raised his head and managed a smile for his frightened daughter.

He then looked at Wanda, who said nothing as she examined his injuries.

"Nothing in the universe is scarier than a brain-dead fanboy," Hawk told her.

No contest.

Hawk's question shook Ikaris so much that the energy from the blast started to leak out in all directions. If that had kept happening, Hawk would have been hurt, but not killed.

From Hawk's perspective, that had been the bad news.

He had spent a long time getting ready to face death with no backup plan. Everyone dies someday, so why delay it? He figured he might as well get it over with.

Besides, if he could be reborn as the Phoenix again, he would become much stronger. He would come back with no weaknesses, no blind spots, and nothing holding him back.

Luckily for Hawk, though his view was far from normal, Ikaris really was the fanatic he claimed to be.

When forced to choose between living for himself and dying for the Celestials, Ikaris had chosen the latter without hesitation.

Perhaps his answer really was that simple. The Celestials had created him, so he believed his life belonged to them.

Now Ikaris was dead.

Hawk would soon follow him.

"I hope this universe's Mephisto already has a seat waiting for me at his bar," Hawk said as he shifted from kneeling to sitting on the glass-covered ground. "Honestly, I kind of like the guy."

"Then why didn't you spare him?" Wanda crouched in front of Hawk and folded her arms.

Hawk smiled without answering.

Wanda studied him for another moment but didn't press the question.

"So let me ask you again," she said. "If you can't make it back on your own, how am I supposed to bring you home?"

Jean glanced at both of them. Wanda looked deadly serious, but Hawk sat among the ruins as if they were just talking about weekend plans.

She was beginning to understand what was happening.

Jean said nothing. She simply listened, unable to hide the fear in her eyes as she watched her father.

"I'll say it again—there's no backup plan this time." Hawk gave Wanda an easy smile. "The same move doesn't work on me twice, and I don't make the same mistake twice."

He wasn't exaggerating.

Hawk was dying, and this time he had no way out. The Phoenix Universe had come into this world, but he refused its power. Without that link, the Phoenix couldn't bring him back.

If Hawk failed to find a path back to life through death, he would be gone for good.

"I understand." Wanda nodded calmly. "When are you planning to die?"

"Mom!" Jean stared at her in disbelief before turning desperately toward Hawk. "Dad, you're not really going to die, are you?"

"Don't worry." Hawk smiled at her. "I'll come back."

Jean searched his face.

"Really?"

"Of course." Hawk kept smiling. "A Phoenix doesn't die. It rises again."

Jean remembered the Phoenix's divine authority, and some of the fear left her eyes.

Something still felt wrong, though.

She didn't know Hawk had voluntarily surrendered the very protection he was using to reassure her. If he left and couldn't find his way back, there would be no rebirth waiting for him.

After speaking to Jean, Hawk felt the aura of Hell descending over him.

The world blurred for a moment, and Hawk saw the gates of Hell in his fading vision. Behind them was a small, hellish tavern with a glowing OPEN sign.

Inside, a familiar-looking Mephisto, the local version of the one Hawk knew, sat with a glass of bourbon raised in greeting. He smiled like an old friend ready to buy the first round.

"Looks like my ride's here," Hawk murmured.

He drew his attention away from the invitation and looked at Wanda.

"Time for me to go."

"Wait. One last question." Wanda stopped him just as his eyes began to close. "Can you move your body? We can't leave you sitting in the middle of Wall Street."

Hawk considered the problem with complete seriousness.

"You could buy me an extravagant coffin and put me in it."

"That's a good idea." Wanda gave the suggestion equal consideration. "I'll do that."

They looked at each other in silence.

Jean couldn't take it anymore.

"Mom!"

"All right, stop messing with her." Hawk laughed at his daughter's exasperated expression.

He promised Jean once more that he would return. Then he shared one final look with Wanda and closed his eyes.

His soul left his body as a stream of gold and red light. It passed through the gates of Hell, which had been open for a while, waiting for him.

Hawk's head fell forward.

The life inside his seated body faded rapidly until nothing remained.

Jean stared at him, her voice trembling.

"Mom?"

"Let's go." Wanda remained calm.

Scarlet Chaos Magic wrapped around Hawk and lifted him from the ground. He floated into Wanda's arms, and she held him gently, as if he were just sleeping.

Wanda rose into the air, pulling Jean up beside her. Once they cleared the ruined skyline, she adjusted their direction and vanished with a burst of speed.

——————————

Inside Washington's underground emergency command center, President Reed Stacy stood with his newly assembled staff and the surviving military leadership.

Everyone stared blankly at the satellite footage on the main screen.

Only after the satellite lost track of Wanda did the people in the room begin to recover. They looked at one another, each waiting for someone else to say what they were all thinking.

"So… the Demon King is dead?" one official finally asked.

Several people sucked in sharp breaths.

"Who the hell was the man who died with him?"

"Was he another alien?"

"Did he come from the Demon King's universe, or was he from ours?"

That first question set everyone off. In seconds, the command center filled with arguments, theories, and wild guesses. People talked over each other until it sounded like a flock of panicked geese.

Then someone asked the question that silenced them all.

"If the Demon King is dead, can we stop the operation?"

"What oper—"

The response died halfway out of another official's mouth.

Everyone remembered Hawk's ultimatum at once. They all turned to Reed Stacy, who had been pushed into the presidency before breakfast.

Reed remained silent for several moments.

"I don't know how to be a good president," he admitted calmly. "Until today, I wasn't even part of the congressional leadership. I was an ordinary representative with no special title and very little authority."

He looked around the room at the generals, officials, and advisers waiting for him to decide whether the purge would continue.

"My constituents still chose me to speak for them in Congress. Their reason was simple—they believed my word. They trusted the promises I made."

Reed rested both hands on the table.

"So my position is equally simple. We agreed to Hawk Phoenix's terms, and now we should honor that agreement. Someone must answer for the Sentinel program and pay the price for what happened."

His expression grew serious.

"But that person will not be me."

No one interrupted him.

"What about you?" Reed asked. "Can any of you guarantee that Mr. Hawk Phoenix is truly dead? Can you accept what will happen twenty-four hours from now if you're wrong and he comes back?"

His calm gaze passed over every face in the command center.

"Are you willing to stake your own lives on that guarantee—and accept full responsibility for the consequences?"

No one said a word.

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