Chapter 81

Lydia woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was dark and silent, but the echoes of her nightmare still rang loudly in her mind. Faces of her loved ones flashed before her eyes, their faces contorted in pain. It was always the same, the feeling of loss, the sorrow, the guilt. It was a torment that had been plaguing her for weeks now.

She sighed and rolled over, glancing at the clock. It was far too early to be awake, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was greeted by the same haunting images. The same feelings of death closing in, only to disappear as suddenly as they came.

Over the past couple of months, Yao, known as the Ancient One, had made New Genosha her home. Lydia had provided her with all the resources she needed to establish a building for the mystic arts, and a slew of potential recruits had shown up, eager to learn. It was an exciting time, but these dreams...these feelings, they were starting to worry her.

She sat up, rubbing her temples. She knew of only one entity that could be causing this. One being that could instill such fear, such sorrow. Death. The personification of the end, of the inevitable.

It was a troubling thought. Was Death reaching out to her? Or was it a warning of some sort? Maybe a sign of things to come? She needed answers, but she wasn't sure where to start. A confrontation with Death wasn't something she was looking forward to, but it seemed like she had no choice.

She stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the stillness of the night. She was Lydia Howlett, and she wasn't going to let these nightmares consume her. She would face whatever was coming, head-on. After all, she had a universe to protect, and she wasn't going to let Death, or anyone else, stand in her way.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, casting long, eerie shadows that danced upon the floor. The stillness was only interrupted by the distant murmur of the city, and the occasional whisper of the wind. It was the kind of silence that was heavy with thought and contemplation. Lydia stared out of the window, her reflection merging with the endless expanse of the night sky.

Just as she was about to turn away, a movement caught her eye. In the corner of the room, a figure emerged from the shadows. A woman. Her beauty was ethereal, an odd mix of elegance and menace. Her raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling like a dark curtain around her face. Her eyes were as black as the night sky, but they held a strange, mesmerizing glimmer that felt both alluring and unsettling. The loose robe she wore billowed around her, revealing a pair of slender legs. Her presence felt both chilling and calming, an enigma in itself.

It was Death. Her presence was undeniable, her aura unmistakable. The mere sight of her was enough to send shivers down Lydia's spine. But strangely, Death didn't move. She simply stood there, her gaze transfixed on the window. She too, seemed to be observing the world outside, her expression unreadable.

Lydia found herself captivated by the sight. It was strange, seeing Death so...quiet, so still. She was a force that often worked in the shadows, manipulating events and people, but rarely did she appear so openly. This was an intervention of some sort, Lydia realized. But for what purpose, she could not discern.

A feeling of dread washed over her, but Lydia pushed it away. She was not going to be swayed by fear. She turned to face Death, her gaze steady, her posture defiant. She was ready to confront the enigma that was Death, ready to uncover the truth behind these nightmares. The silence of the room was broken as Lydia stepped forward, the echo of her footsteps resonating like a challenge. The confrontation had begun.

The room seemed to shrink in size, becoming tighter, more constricting, as Lydia took a step towards Death. Her voice echoed in the silence, a stark contrast to the quiet tranquility that had filled the room just moments ago. "What do you want?" she demanded, her tone firm and unwavering.

Death remained silent, her gaze fixed on the window. The dark expanse outside mirrored her eyes, an endless abyss that seemed to pull you in. Suddenly, a blinding light illuminated the room, casting an ominous glow that painted the scene in shades of fiery orange and crimson. Lydia whipped around, her heart pounding in her chest.

Outside the window, the city was aflame. Smoke billowed into the night sky, curling and twisting into grotesque forms. The buildings crumbled, swallowed by the fiery maw of destruction. Screams of terror and anguish filled the air, each one a blade that pierced Lydia's heart. The city she loved, the people she protected, were being decimated before her eyes.

"No!" she cried out, lurching towards the window. Her hand reached out, the cool surface of the glass biting into her skin. But as her fingers made contact, the chaos outside dissipated. The screams were replaced by silence, the smoke by clear skies, the fire by moonlight. The city was whole again, untouched by the devastating disaster she had just witnessed.

It was as if time had rewound, erasing the traces of the nightmare that had just unfolded. But the fear still lingered in Lydia's heart, throbbing in rhythm with her rapid pulse. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as she whirled around to face Death, her eyes wide and terrified.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The question hung in the air, echoing in the silence of the room. The figure of Death stood impassive, her expression unreadable. The room was plunged back into quietude, the specter of destruction still looming large in Lydia's mind. But amid the fear and uncertainty, one thing was clear - this was a warning. A glimpse of a future that might come to pass if left unchecked. The stakes had never been higher.

The silence that had taken hold of the room was shattered as Death finally spoke. Her voice was like a symphony of whispers, a choir of echoes that filled the air with a soft, haunting melody. It was a voice that spoke of the end, of finality, and of a tranquility that only death could offer.

"You owe me a debt, Lydia Howlett," Death's words sent a shiver down Lydia's spine. It was a simple statement, yet it held a weight that threatened to crush her. The implication was clear. Death wanted the life she had saved, the one that was not meant to walk among the living anymore. The Ancient One.

Lydia felt a cold dread seep into her bones. She was no stranger to the harsh realities of life and death, yet the demand seemed unfair, cruel even. But she understood. Death was not an enemy, but a cosmic balance, a law of the universe. And that law had been tampered with.

As Death turned to look at her, the room seemed to grow colder, darker. Lydia could feel her heartbeat quickening, could feel the overwhelming presence of Death in her space. The eyes that met hers were empty, void of any emotion. They were the eyes of the end, of oblivion. Yet, instead of cowering, Lydia met Death's gaze head on, determination etching her features.

A soft, mocking laughter echoed around the room as Death complimented her. "Very few dare to look me in the eyes. You truly are a unique soul, Lydia." The words were a cold comfort, a praise wrapped in a threat. And then, as suddenly as she appeared, Death was gone. Her parting words lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the price that had to be paid. "I will be waiting."

The room fell into silence once more, save for Lydia's shallow breaths. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. The encounter had lasted but a few minutes, yet it had left a lasting imprint on her. The fear, the demand, the reality of her actions, they all weighed heavily on her.

Lydia found herself engulfed in work. She knew it was an escape, a way to drown out the fear, the uncertainty that loomed over her. As she meticulously poured over documents, reports, and maps, she could feel the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. She was the leader of New Genosha, a beacon of hope for the mutants and Inhumans, yet her recent encounter with Death had left her feeling more vulnerable than she'd ever felt.

As the dim light of early morning filtered through the windows, casting long shadows in the room, Lydia heard the door to her office open. Astrid, in her humanoid form, walked in. Her metallic body shone brilliantly in the soft light, a testament to the fusion of the rarest and strongest metals in the universe. Her form was sleek, elegant, and radiated a power that was matched by few. Yet, her synthetic eyes held a softness, an understanding that belied her mechanical nature.

Seeing Lydia at work, Astrid approached her, her steps silent despite her metallic form. "You couldn't sleep again?" She asked, her voice a soothing hum. It wasn't really a question, more of an empathetic acknowledgment.

Lydia looked up at Astrid, her weary eyes meeting the soft glow of Astrid's. She gave a nod, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it's okay."

There was a profound sadness in her eyes, a silent plea for understanding. Astrid, despite being an AI, seemed to understand. She offered no empty reassurances, no platitudes. Instead, she simply nodded, acknowledging Lydia's struggle.

The hush in the room deepened, only the faint hum of Astrid's inner workings breaking the silence. Lydia was lost in her thoughts, the screen before her displaying data she was no longer processing. She could feel Astrid's sensors on her, running scans, analyzes, trying to understand, to help.

As the data flowed through Astrid's neural networks, she noted the physical and emotional changes in Lydia. The stress from the recent events, coupled with the disturbing encounter with Death, had left Lydia in a state of heightened anxiety. Even though Astrid was a highly advanced AI, comprehending cosmic entities like Death was beyond her programming. However, she understood their implications well enough.

The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city awakening, as Astrid posed the question, "Did you... meet Death, Lydia?"

Lydia's eyes flickered, the flickering screen light reflecting in her irises as she nodded slowly. Her hand closed around the pendant on her necklace, a small sign of her unease. The weight of her nod hung heavy in the air, an acknowledgement of her personal encounter with an entity most beings never hoped to face.

There was a beat of silence, a moment of shared understanding. Astrid didn't need to press further; the impact of the meeting was evident in Lydia's face. Instead, she quietly suggested potential avenues of research, of preparation, using the vast amount of data they had gathered. The conversation shifted, focusing on the problem at hand and potential solutions, subtly moving away from Lydia's personal fears.

Astrid's electronic eyes flickered with uncertainty as Lydia confided her worries. The notion of 'owing' a soul was complex enough, let alone the notion of 'value' attached to it. Astrid processed the information, her algorithms churning through countless possibilities, each one more ethically challenging than the last.

Lydia leaned back in her chair, her eyes glassy as she stared up at the ceiling, thoughts whirling around her like a tempest. She was haunted by the image of Death's demand, and the weight of her decision was palpable. Could she sacrifice another being to pay Death's debt? Even if she could identify a soul of equivalent 'value', how could she justify such an act?

She looked at Astrid, her gaze filled with desperation and uncertainty. "I don't know where to start... or even if I should. It's not right, Astrid. Taking a life... it's not our decision to make."

Astrid, despite her lack of true emotional comprehension, responded with soft reassurances. "There may be other ways to approach this, Lydia. You have vast knowledge and resources at your disposal. Perhaps we should focus on exploring other avenues before making any irreversible decisions."

Lydia listened attentively as Astrid relayed the updates, her expression thoughtful. Her interest was piqued as Astrid mentioned Nina's romantic entanglement with Peter Parker, a hint of concern flashing across her face.

"Nina and Spider-Man, huh?" She mused, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That's... interesting. They're both so dedicated, so determined. But, relationships in our line of work can get... complicated."

Astrid's digital face assumed an expression of concern, her voice steady as she continued, "Indeed, it appears that Nina has developed strong feelings for Peter. Additionally, she's taken on a mentorship role with Miles Morales, another young superhero in the making."

"Miles Morales?" Lydia echoed, surprise lighting up her face. She remembered Miles from the future as the protege of Peter Parker and a Spider-Man in his own right. This was certainly unexpected news, but not unwelcome.

"She's training him? That's... that's good. Peter can't be everywhere at once, and it'll be beneficial to have another Spider-Man in the mix. As for Nina and Peter... we'll just have to trust them. They're both smart, capable individuals. They'll figure it out."

Nodding, she looked out the window, deep in thought. Their lives were full of uncertainties and danger, but for now, they were making it work. That's all she could ask for. Astrid continued with her report about a recent event.

Astrid's eyes shimmered, projecting a series of holographic reports before Lydia, who grimaced as she studied the data. The news was disturbing, to say the least.

"Damn it," she muttered, brushing a hand through her hair in frustration. "The Avengers stopped the terrorists, but at what cost? Civilian casualties, property damage...it's a nightmare."

Astrid's expression didn't change - after all, she was an AI - but her tone softened in acknowledgement of Lydia's distress. "The United Nations isn't pleased, and the Sokovia Accords are being introduced as a response. But there's more - the Accords have been subtitled the Superhuman Registration Act."

"The... what?" Lydia blinked, taken aback. She knew of the Superhuman Registration Act, of course. It was a major plot point in the Civil War storyline from the comics, a legislation that forced superheroes to register with the government and become, essentially, licensed law enforcement officials. But she never expected it to coincide with the Sokovia Accords.

"Did Sir...did he merge these two events?" She asked herself. Lydia could only sigh, her mind already whirling with the implications of this turn of events.

Astrid's holographic display shifted again, revealing a disturbing video that played out in front of Lydia. A bomb detonating off the coast of Japan, a stunning plume of blue mist expanding and merging with the clouds. As Lydia watched, her heart sank - she recognized that mist. It was a Terrigen cloud, dangerous for mutants and a catalyst for Inhumans.

"This footage was taken a few hours ago," Astrid reported, her usually calm tone wavering ever so slightly. "The Terrigen cloud is spreading eastward, and it's already had a considerable impact."

Lydia's blood ran cold. "What kind of impact?"

"Several Inhumans have emerged in Japan already. And as you know, Terrigen is toxic to mutants. Furthermore, regular humans exposed to it have reported flu-like symptoms."

A heavy silence fell over the room as Lydia took in this revelation. The Terrigen cloud, the emergence of more Inhumans, the toxicity to mutants - all this combined with the Sokovia Accords and the Superhuman Registration Act spelled out a catastrophe.

Finally, Lydia leaned back in her chair, running a hand down her face. She looked to Astrid, her expression dark.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing around the room. It was more to herself than anyone else - a frustrated outburst at the overwhelming challenges they were facing.