Chapter 135

Descending gracefully from her place high in the sky, Lydia landed near the dome protecting Reed and Sue. A faint ripple of cosmic energy trailed in her wake, the immediate area quieting down as if in reverence to the power she just demonstrated. Her attire, the elegant royal garments, remained undamaged and untouched by the havoc she had just wreaked, her serene aura clashing sharply with the war-torn backdrop.

"Are you two okay?" Lydia's voice was soft, and a hint of genuine concern laced her tone. Reed and Sue, still gathering their bearings from the abrupt end of the skirmish, nodded in silent confirmation. The sheer power Lydia demonstrated and the unimaginable scale of what had just occurred left them momentarily speechless.

"Good," she smiled, her emerald eyes lighting up with approval. She gestured towards the scientific instruments Reed had assembled. "I'll teleport you both to the research station now. And as promised, I'll lift some of the restrictions there. You'll have more freedom to continue your work." Before they could manage a response, a wave of Lydia's hand swept over them, and their surroundings warped and twisted.

Suddenly, Reed and Sue found themselves standing in the middle of an advanced, pristine research station, the battlefield and their brief encounter with Lydia already light-years away.

Back on the battleground, Lydia's gaze shifted to her side as two figures made their way towards her. Tony Stark, his Iron Man armor glinting in the sunlight, and Steve Rogers, his Captain America shield gleaming, approached. Their faces were marked with relief but also held traces of unease, grappling with the comprehension of Lydia's overwhelming might and what it could mean for their world.

Lydia turned her gaze to meet Steve's earnest eyes, her own reflecting the tranquility of a calm sea. He extended a hand, and she met it with a firm, warm grip. The texture of her skin was unexpectedly soft against the rough calluses of a lifelong soldier.

"Thank you for your assistance, Empress Lydia," Steve's voice rang out with a sincerity that resonated in the air. The title felt foreign on his lips, but the respect it implied was genuine.

Beside him, Tony's face cracked into a wry smile, his eyes dancing with mischief as he regarded Lydia. The Iron Man suit hummed and whirred around him, the recent addition of nanotech a testament to his unending desire to push the boundaries of his capabilities.

"Hey, we totally had this under control, you know," he quipped, the edges of his mouth curling up in an infectious grin. "You just saved us the effort of a cleanup operation." Tony's attempt at humor punctured the tense atmosphere, easing some of the weight that had settled over them.

Lydia couldn't help but return his smile, the corners of her lips tugging up in a knowing smirk. Her gaze roved over Tony's suit, taking in the advanced technology embedded within. It was impressive and spoke volumes of the ingenuity of the man within.

"Your innovation never ceases to amaze, Tony," she complimented, her tone carrying a hint of fondness. "But remember, oversight, while crucial, can become a shackle when exerted excessively." Her eyes met his, her voice dropping lower, becoming more serious.

The subtle hint was not lost on either of them. The Superhuman Registration Act, which had caused a deep schism among Earth's heroes, flashed through their minds. Lydia's comment was a stark reminder of the ongoing internal struggles that loomed over them, even in the wake of an external threat. The tension returned, not from the recent battle, but from the impending conflict within their ranks.

Lydia swept her arm across the cityscape, her eyes glowing with the light of a thousand stars. A wave of cosmic energy rippled from her hand, flowing through the decimated city streets. The air shimmered and buzzed with life, buildings rising from their rubble, their shattered glass windows healing themselves back into transparency. Streetlights blinked back on, and fallen cars realigned themselves neatly along the roads, as if the destruction had never occurred.

"Unity, gentlemen, is your best defense," Lydia spoke, her voice echoing through the empty streets. "It is your strength, your shield. Divided, you fall." She held their gaze, the gravity of her words settling around them like an invisible mantle.

Steve and Tony exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. They understood her words; it was their actions that needed alignment.

"Remember, Earth is under the Genoshian Empire's protection," Lydia added with a reassuring smile. She let her gaze linger on them for a moment longer, allowing the weight of her words to sink in.

Before they could respond, a burst of cosmic energy enveloped Lydia. It wrapped around her like a cocoon, the brilliant display lighting up the night sky for a brief moment. When the light faded, Lydia was gone, leaving Tony and Steve alone in the city she had just repaired.

Lydia reappeared in her office on New Genosha, the comfortable familiarity of her workspace a stark contrast to the chaos she had left behind on Earth. The scent of ink and paper, the gentle hum of technology working diligently in the background, the soft lights illuminating her desk – all of it welcomed her like an old friend. The connection to Earth was severed, but the echoes of the battle, the lives saved and the unity urged, lingered in her mind. She knew her work was far from over.

Lydia had barely seated herself behind her sleek, technologically advanced desk when the polished office door was thrown open with a ferocity that made it shudder in its hinges. Carol strode in, anger radiating off her like a tangible force. The soft glow of the lights gleamed off her golden hair, framing her in an ethereal halo. But her eyes held nothing of the calm that the image suggested, they were stormy, a tumultuous sea threatening to break free.

"Why did you leave?" she demanded, her words echoing in the grandeur of the office.

Lydia looked up from the holographic display that she had been examining. The corners of her lips curled up into a warm smile, a stark contrast to the tempest brewing in Carol's eyes.

"Carol, darling," she started, her voice a soothing melody against the harsh clang of Carol's anger. "You were sleeping so peacefully, like an angel amidst the stars. I couldn't bear to wake you up."

Lydia's words seemed to work their magic, causing a slight easing of the tension in Carol's rigid posture. Her gaze softened, transforming from a hard glare into something resembling concern, even affection.

Their moment of peace was interrupted as two figures stepped into the office, their shadows dancing on the wall like ominous wraiths. James, his metallic form gleaming under the artificial light, and Hela, her majestic antler-like headdress lending her an air of alien grandeur, walked in silently. They took their positions by the entrance, their imposing figures serving as a reminder of their roles as Lydia's personal guards.

Their presence marked a silent conclusion to the private conversation, prompting a reluctant return to the demands of empire. Lydia allowed her gaze to linger on Carol for a moment longer before returning to her holographic display. Their duties may have brought them back to reality, but Lydia's smile, preserved in Carol's memory, promised a conversation that was far from over.

Carol stood there, the neon highlights of the room flickering off her curious gaze, her stance, while still firm, took on an air of slight confusion. She felt the shift in Lydia's demeanor, a shroud of calm seeming to descend upon her. Yet the pulsing energy that surrounded her still sparked in the air with a subtle hint of something awry.

"What's wrong, Lydia?" Carol asked, breaking the momentary silence that had blanketed the room. Her voice echoed the worry her eyes carried, her figure leaning slightly forward as if trying to peer into Lydia's soul.

"Wrong?" Lydia echoed, her expression never faltering, her hands swiftly moving over the holographic interface in front of her. "Nothing is wrong, Carol."

As the last word left her lips, Lydia finished her task, the holographic display fading away, leaving the room bathed in a softer glow. She looked up at Carol, her gaze steady and clear. There was a distinct calm about her that didn't fit the sharp tension hanging in the air.

"Carol," Lydia began, a mysterious smile playing at the corners of her lips. "How about we take a little vacation?"

The suggestion hung in the air, stunning Carol into silence. The bustling office, the looming presence of Hela and James, all faded into insignificance as Carol tried to decipher the sudden change in Lydia.

"A vacation?" Carol questioned, her brow furrowing in confusion and suspicion. "Why...?"

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "You're acting... different, Lydia. It's as if something's happening to you... Something you don't want to bother anyone else with."

Carol's voice faded, leaving her question and the worry laced in her words to resonate in the silence of the room. Her eyes locked with Lydia's, seeking answers to the puzzle that Lydia had suddenly become.

A playful glint sparked in Lydia's eyes as she deftly dodged Carol's probing questions. Leaning back in her ornate office chair, she arched a single brow, her wide smile full of mischief as she countered Carol's concern with a question of her own.

"After all these years together, Carol," Lydia began, her voice filled with a warm amusement. "I can't help but wonder why you haven't proposed yet."

The question hung in the air, a curious and unexpected reversal that momentarily stunned Carol. The glowing room seemed to pause with her, the twinkling neon lights reflecting off the wide-eyed surprise on her face.

The question was unexpected, making her heart jump in her chest and her cheeks flush a deep red. She looked away from Lydia's knowing gaze, casting a quick glance towards the entrance where James and Hela stood. A hint of embarrassment sparked in her eyes as she met their gazes, their expressions unreadable but their presence imposing nonetheless. The air suddenly seemed a lot warmer than it was before, the silence echoing Lydia's unexpected question and Carol's surprised reaction.

In the serene silence of the room, Lydia leaned forward, her elbows resting on her desk and her interlaced fingers supporting her chin. A smile danced on her lips, the cosmic blues of her eyes twinkling in the ambient glow of her office. A picture of casual confidence and playful challenge.

"Propose to me, Carol," she echoed, her words as clear as the day they were under, void of any hesitations or uncertainties. Her voice filled the room, soft yet firm, as though the words were undeniable facts rather than a surprising proposition.

Carol found herself utterly floored by Lydia's audacious request. "Wha-what?" she stammered, her heart thudding wildly against her chest. The surprising proposition had left her speechless and slightly disoriented, her mind struggling to wrap itself around Lydia's unexpected words.

The amusement in Lydia's eyes deepened, her smile broadening at Carol's flustered response. "I'll say it again, Carol, so you won't miss it this time," Lydia began, her words laced with the lighthearted joy of her laughter. "I want you to propose to me. Make me yours, officially."

Caught off guard by Lydia's bold assertion, Carol felt a heat rushing to her cheeks, coloring them a vibrant shade of pink. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying and failing to find the words that would adequately express the whirlwind of thoughts currently dominating her mind.

"I...uh...Lydia, I mean...I just..." she stuttered, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability under the gaze of the woman she loved. Her words were just fragments of thoughts, stumbling over each other in an attempt to form coherent sentences, but they all ended up tripping over the overwhelming surprise.

A soft chuckle slipped past Lydia's lips at Carol's evident struggle, her celestial eyes glinting with a mischievous spark. "It's not so difficult, Carol. All you have to do is ask," she teased, her tone playful but gentle, not wanting to push Carol too far.

Still dumbstruck, Carol tried to process this unusual situation. The Lydia she knew was always composed and somewhat reserved in their relationship, letting Carol make most of the advances. This sudden display of audacity was both thrilling and confusing. Where did this bold, demanding Lydia come from? A flurry of questions swirled in her mind, but she knew one thing for sure - she loved this new, daring side of Lydia as much as she loved the rest of her.

"Stay here," Carol said and ran out.

With Carol's rapid exit, the room fell into a hush, broken only by the soft hum of the technology that surrounded them. James and Hela turned their attention towards Lydia, the former's expression laden with a sad, knowing gaze. As he walked towards his sister, his polished boots echoed slightly in the vast expanse of the room, a steady rhythm against the silence.

"What's wrong, Liddy?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent. It was a tone that Lydia had known since her childhood, one that made hiding impossible.

Despite her attempts at cheer, Lydia's smile began to falter, her celestial eyes darting away to avoid James's probing gaze. The silence of the room seemed to intensify, every ticking second amplifying the emotional tension.

"James, I--" Lydia started, but her voice wavered. She bit her lip and tried to force a smile back onto her face, but it didn't reach her eyes.

With a soft sigh, James moved closer and gently placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder. "Liddy, it's me. You don't have to pretend," he said, his words a whisper against the silence. "Tell me what's really going on."

His words were like a dam breaking. Lydia's well-practiced facade crumbled, and she fought back tears that were desperate to fall. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a rare sight for anyone to witness.

"I can't, James..." she managed to whisper, her voice breaking under the weight of her hidden burdens.

From her position near the entrance, Hela watched the interaction unfold with shock evident on her face. She had always seen Lydia as an unyielding force, a woman whose strength and control never faltered. This moment of vulnerability was unexpected and filled her with a sense of deep unease. She didn't fully understand what was happening, but she felt a pang of sympathy for Lydia and an increasing sense of respect for James, who seemed to understand his sister in ways she had never seen before.

Lydia's words hung in the air like a solemn decree, the cryptic phrase shadowing the room with an ominous weight. "My time...is ticking down," she said, her voice as soft as a whispering wind.

Her words were a puzzle, a riddle to be deciphered. But the solution was one that twisted James' heart in a painful knot. He looked into Lydia's eyes, the sadness reflected within them confirming his worst fears.

"There's a price for this power," Lydia continued, her gaze flickering to the window, a vista to the vast cosmos outside. Her voice was filled with a melancholic acceptance, a resignation that struck a chilling chord in James' heart.

The room was silent as James processed Lydia's words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the painful reality he was just beginning to grasp. A look of realization washed over his face, quickly replaced by a deep sadness. "You're dying," he whispered, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. His voice was barely audible, drowned in the vastness of the room, but Lydia heard it.

Hela, standing near the entrance, watched the scene unfold before her. The tension in the room was palpable, the words exchanged between the siblings foreign yet heavy with an unspoken truth. She tilted her head slightly, her confusion reflected in her intense gaze.

"Price?" Hela echoed, her voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern. The phrase was a mystery to her, an enigma she didn't fully understand. What could be the cost for such extraordinary power? And why would it mean that Lydia was dying? Her mind raced with questions, but the answers were elusive, buried in the cryptic exchange between the two siblings.