Chapter 143

With their return to New Genosha, the immediate aftermath of the conflict in the Parliament of Pantheons was a flurry of movement and organization.

Wanda, with a newfound determination in her gaze, made her leave. "I'll be returning to my studies with the Ancient One," she declared, her voice steadfast. "I need to strengthen my offensive capabilities. If I am to face foes like Gorr... I can't afford to hold back."

"Good," Lydia nodded, offering an encouraging smile. "The strength of your magic is incredible, Wanda, but control and versatility are just as crucial. Learn what you can. We'll need every bit of it."

With Wanda's departure, Lydia turned her attention to the immediate duties at hand. She sat at her desk, activating the AI system embedded in the sleek, hi-tech interface. "Astrid," she began, her tone level and focused. "I want the fleet to prepare for dispatch to the regions ruled by the gods. Their adherence to their duties will be evaluated and held accountable."

"Affirmative, Empress," came the prompt reply, the AI's synthetic voice filling the room.

Lydia's fingers danced across the console, pulling up the profile of Reed Richards. "Also, Astrid, inform Reed about this development. He's already exploring these regions. Make sure he's ready to conduct the necessary inspections and send us the reports."

"Understood, Empress. Reed Richards will be informed immediately," Astrid confirmed. Lydia's office was soon filled with the hum of quiet efficiency as plans were set in motion, a testament to the swift, unwavering resolve of the Genoshian Empire.

As the cycles of the universe turned, the Genoshian Empire's influence expanded in parallel with its territory. However, this expansion was not one of conquest or tyranny, but of aid, partnership, and newfound responsibility.

***Months pass

Word of Lydia's actions in the Parliament of Pantheons had spread, resulting in a ripple effect throughout the cosmos. Many gods found their once vibrant regions now desolate, ravaged by time and neglect. Unable to manage the damage and unsure of how to rebuild, they turned to the Genoshian Empire for guidance. In return for their help, the Empire assimilated these regions, extending its reach and sphere of influence.

The Universal Council was made aware of this evolution, their response surprisingly supportive. Asgard, in particular, stood by Lydia's decisions, a testament to Thor's respect for her actions. The Genoshian Empire's stance on enforcing divine responsibility resonated with many, leading to a growing respect for the Empire's dedication to maintaining cosmic order.

However, the Empire's growth was not a blind pursuit of power. Instead, it sought to ensure balance and equity. As it expanded, it shared its resources and opened its borders, integrating its newfound territories into the grand interstellar network of the Universal Council.

Trade routes flourished, technology was shared, and cultures began to intermingle, leading to a blossoming of prosperity and knowledge across the cosmos. It was an era of growth and enlightenment, driven by the wisdom and just hand of the Genoshian Empire. The Empire's expansion was seen as a protective umbrella, spreading across the universe, providing shelter, and ensuring harmony among its diverse, myriad inhabitants.

Every star that joined the Empire's fold lit up a beacon of hope, a testament to a new way of cosmic governance. One that respected the dignity of all beings, that nurtured growth and harmony, and held the powerful accountable. The Genoshian Empire, under Lydia's leadership, was not just a dominion; it was a testament to a new order in the cosmos, a symbol of hope, justice, and equity.

***

The dining room in which they sat was bathed in soft, ambient light, creating an intimate space around them. The grand, polished table bore the markings of a luxurious evening meal. The clink of glassware and the low hum of conversation filled the air, a peaceful lull that promised a quiet and uninterrupted evening.

That tranquility, however, was shattered when the delicate silver fork in Lydia's hand phased through her fingers, clattering against the table before coming to a rest. The immediate aftermath of the occurrence hung heavily in the air, a silence that was as tangible as the shock etched onto Carol's face.

Lydia looked at her hand, aghast as it shimmered in and out of existence. A spectral image, as if caught between reality and oblivion. The air around it vibrated with an energy that was unnatural, inexplicable. A cold fear gripped her as she watched the atoms and molecules of her own hand refuse to obey her commands, her hand flickering like a faulty lightbulb.

Forcing her powers of concentration, Lydia drew on her inner strength. With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, she demanded control, wrestled with the rebellious atoms, and brought them back under her dominion. Slowly, gradually, her hand stabilized. The tremors subsided, the phasing ceased, and her hand regained its natural, solid form.

Through all this, Carol watched in stunned silence, her blue eyes wide with shock. The peace of the evening had been brutally torn apart by the bizarre spectacle unfolding in front of her. The sight of Lydia's hand phasing, the struggle for control, and the quiet fear in Lydia's eyes – all of it sent a cold shiver of dread racing down her spine.

"Lydia," she said, her voice taut with concern and an edge of fear. "What just happened?" She gestured at the fork now lying on the table, her gaze never leaving Lydia's face. The demand for an answer was implicit, a plea for understanding in the face of the inexplicable. "What's wrong?" Her tone turned insistent, worry seeping into her words. "You need to tell me, Lydia. I need to know."

Lydia's gaze met Carol's with a sorrowful softness, the usually vibrant and lively spark in her eyes replaced with a resigned acceptance. The room seemed to grow colder, the air growing still as the truth, long harboured, waited to be released.

"I'm dying, Carol," Lydia admitted, her voice barely a whisper. Each word was weighted with a profound sadness, the hard truth falling heavy in the silence that followed. "The cosmic energy that gives me my power…it's too much for a physical body to bear." Her eyes never wavered from Carol's, watching the pain, shock, and realization flicker through those blue orbs she so cherished.

Carol's heart hammered in her chest. It was as though the ground beneath her had shifted, leaving her unsteady and breathless. Her thoughts raced, memories of Lydia's insistence that she was fine replayed in her mind with a painful clarity.

As her eyes welled up with tears, she fought to keep them at bay. Carol tapped her arm, bringing forth a holographic communication interface. The transparent screen flickered to life, displaying Astrid, Lydia's AI.

"Astrid, I need your help," Carol spoke, her voice holding a tremble she couldn't suppress. "Get Reed here, to New Genosha. Now." Her command rang with urgency, her gaze hardened with determination.

But as Lydia looked at her with a sad smile, Carol felt a rush of helplessness. Lydia knew her well - her stubborn refusal to accept the inevitable, her relentless pursuit of a solution even in the face of the most despairing circumstances. In the silence that followed, Lydia's unspoken words hung in the air – there was no point.

Yet, in the face of the unbearable truth, Carol refused to back down. She wouldn't let the woman she loved, the woman she had married, be consumed by a power too great for her to bear alone. She would fight, just as she always had. For Lydia, she would move heaven and earth.

A hot flash of anger surged through Carol, her heart pounding against her ribs as she stared at Lydia in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, her voice raspy, desperate. The words echoed around the silent room, piercing the quiet with a jarring intensity.

Lydia gave her a sad, understanding smile. "It happened during the fight with Annihilus," she admitted quietly, her gaze lost in a memory. "But, I think it had already started before that." Her voice carried an undertone of regret, an acceptance of her fate.

"Both the positive and negative cosmic energies, they began to converge when I absorbed them," Lydia continued, her eyes reflecting the whirlpool of cosmic energy she could still feel coursing through her veins. "The raw cosmic energies from the two Celestials... it was a tipping point. They created something new within me, something... unnatural." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze distant as if she could see the very energy she was talking about.

"This energy... it's an aberration. It's too volatile, too unstable. It doesn't belong in a physical body, and perhaps not even in this universe." The words hung heavy in the air, a raw truth that was as painful to utter as it was to hear.

But Carol refused to stand still, refused to let Lydia surrender to the inevitable. With a fire in her eyes, she got up and pulled Lydia to her feet. "We're going to fix this, Lydia," she stated, her determination unwavering.

Carol practically dragged Lydia towards a transport vessel, a sleek and advanced ship designed to ferry them to the laboratory hovering high above the surface of New Genosha. As the transport vessel's doors closed behind them, they were cast into silence, save for the quiet hum of the ship's engines. Lydia gave Carol a sad smile, appreciating her stubborn resolve despite the gravity of the situation.

Lydia's soft voice carried through the silence of the vessel, gentle and soothing, "Carol, it's okay..."

The words were a stark contrast to the tempest brewing within Carol. "Don't you dare talk like that," she snapped back, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and fear.

Lydia managed a soft smile, reaching out to grasp Carol's hand, her touch light but comforting. The warmth seeped through their connected palms, a silent reassurance despite the impending dread.

Before long, the vessel touched down on a platform outside the looming structure of the lab. As the doors slid open with a soft hiss, Carol wasted no time, all but dragging Lydia towards the pristine, white building. Her strides were long and determined, a clear reflection of the resolve that hardened in her heart.

Inside the lab, they were met by Astrid's physical form, her figure filled with concern. Reed Richards and his wife, Sue, were waiting for them as well, their faces lined with worry. Reed's hand was absentmindedly fiddling with the fabric of his lab coat, a clear sign of his nervousness, while Sue stood with her arms crossed, her eyes scanning the two women as they approached.

Seeing them, Lydia offered a soft, sad smile, her hand still holding onto Carol's. Reed looked at Lydia, the worry in his eyes intensifying. "What happened?" he asked, his gaze flicking between Lydia and Carol, trying to understand the urgency. His first instinct was to think someone was hurt, his scientific mind already trying to figure out a solution before even knowing the problem.

Carol's fingers tightened around Lydia's as the silence dragged on, her patience rapidly diminishing. "Damn it, Lydia!" she finally snapped, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Why won't you say something?"

But Lydia remained silent, her gaze fixed on Carol, the sadness in her eyes deepening. It was a sight that twisted a painful knot in Carol's chest, compelling her to spill everything. With a frustrated growl, she turned to face Reed, Sue, and Astrid, her voice shaking slightly as she relayed what had transpired.

"She... she's dying," Carol began, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. "Her cosmic energy... it's too much to bear. Her body... it's destabilizing."

Astrid's eyes widened slightly, a wave of surprise washed over her. She looked at Lydia, a multitude of emotions flickering across her projected face. "I suspected something was off," she admitted quietly, her voice carrying a note of self-blame. "But I couldn't tell what it was. I should have pursued it..."

"No, Astrid," Lydia interjected softly, managing a weak smile. "It's not your fault."

Without missing a beat, Reed and Sue immediately moved into action, their scientist instincts taking over. "Astrid, we need to run a full body scan. We need to understand what's happening at a molecular level," Reed ordered, his mind already racing with possible solutions. Sue nodded in agreement, her hand instinctively reaching for a piece of high-tech scanning equipment.

As they worked, Astrid form shifting as she transitioned into a more technical mode. She moved closer to Lydia, her hand reaching out as if to comfort her, a silent promise that she would do everything in her power to help. Lydia, for her part, simply watched them, her hand still clasped tightly in Carol's, her face as serene as ever.

The lab filled with the hum of advanced machinery and the subtle, synthetic pulse of Astrid's energy as she performed scans and tests on Lydia. Reed and Sue hovered over the screens displaying the results, their brows furrowed and eyes wide with shock as they tried to make sense of the readings.

Reed was the first to break the silence, his voice laced with disbelief. "The energy signature... it's not just cosmic. It's something else, something beyond our understanding," he muttered, his fingers tracing the peaks and valleys of the energy signature graph on the screen. "It's as if the cosmic energy has evolved, creating a new form of energy that... that doesn't belong in this universe."

Sue joined in, her eyes darting between Lydia and the data before her. "And it's fluctuating," she added, her voice slightly shaky. "One moment, it's stable, then it suddenly spikes before dropping again. It's like... it's like her body is trying to contain something it's not built to hold."

Astrid, in her sleek, streamlined physical form, had her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the readings. Her usually vibrant eyes seemed dim, reflecting the seriousness of the situation. She too seemed taken aback by the data, but her concern was more visible, more human. It was a testament to the complexity of her programming, her ability to emulate human emotions.

"Whatever it is," Astrid finally spoke up, her voice steady but grave. "It's beyond our current understanding. The cosmic energy has transformed into something new, something unstable. Lydia's body... is struggling to keep up."

Carol, who had been silent all this while, finally found her voice. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, her face pale but determined. "There must be something we can do," she stated, her voice full of a mix of fear and hope. "Something to stabilize her, to... to keep her with us."

The lab was fraught with a tense air as the three brilliant minds brainstormed for a solution, their thoughts vocalized as they considered and dissected each potential remedy.

Reed paced back and forth, tugging at his lower lip in deep thought. "What if we were to harness a form of anti-cosmic energy?" he proposed, a speculative tone to his voice. "Much like the Negative Zone, but fine-tuned to counterbalance the fluctuations in Lydia's energy signature. It's risky and theoretical, but..."

"No, it won't work, Reed," Astrid interjected before he could finish, her words slicing through the room like a laser beam. "Anti-cosmic energy could neutralize the energy fluctuations, yes, but it could also eradicate the cosmic energy altogether. Lydia's existence is intertwined with that cosmic energy; to nullify it could be... fatal."

Sue nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed the energy readings. "Astrid's right. We need something that can contain, not neutralize," she mused, her gaze turning thoughtful. "Perhaps something like the Power Cosmic? It's stable, durable, and most importantly, it has a high tolerance for other forms of cosmic energy."

"That's assuming we can access the Power Cosmic," Astrid countered, a hint of frustration evident in her voice. "Even if we could, we'd need to consider the implications. The Power Cosmic isn't a tool, it's an essential aspect of the universe. To harness it could disturb the cosmic balance."

As their ideas volleyed back and forth, the underlying truth was hard to ignore. Each potential solution was fraught with dangers and uncertainties, and there was no guarantee that any of them would work. For all their intelligence and resourcefulness, the three found themselves in a predicament that defied conventional logic and science. It was a grim reminder of the nature of their adversary: a power so vast and incomprehensible, it threatened to unravel the very fabric of their understanding.