Marvel: The Enlightened One#126: Silver!

In a realm of eternal absolute darkness.

Hawk, who had vanished from the Texas bar in a flash of golden fire, opened his eyes to a void where sight had no meaning. He stared into the suffocating blackness that stretched in every direction and couldn't stop a curse from escaping his lips.

He had thought his Nirvana was over.

Apparently not.

Wait a minute...

‘Isn’t rebirth supposed to be instantaneous?’

A thought struck him, and he instinctively tried to sink his consciousness into his Cosmo.

But…

Hawk’s eyes snapped open again, a flicker of genuine shock in them.

His Cosmo was gone.

‘No, wait.’

He forced himself back from the brink of panic, his mind racing.

His Cosmo was still there. He could feel it.

But for some reason, he couldn't connect to it. It was as if it had been sealed away, shielded from him by this endless void, just as he had been stripped of his five senses.

Sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch—all gone!!

Understanding dawned. He instinctively sat down in the void, crossing his legs and assuming the same posture as Shaka.

Suddenly, he closed his eyes.

And in that instant, the world exploded into light.

The darkness was gone, replaced by a brilliant, blinding radiance.

Stars began to streak across the void like meteors. A universe of knowledge flooded his mind, only to vanish a moment later, leaving behind a single, pure understanding.

He knew where he was. This was the border between life and death.

He had succeeded. And with that success came an intuitive, overwhelming clarity.

But there was one thing that mattered more than anything else.

Hawk’s eyes shot open.

And there it was—The gateway to the Sixth Sense—standing before him once more.

This time, there was no hesitation, no barrier. He took a single step forward—

Instantly, he was standing in the realm of the Sixth Sense.

...

At that exact moment, as the look of stunned disbelief was still frozen on Malekith’s ruined face, as Natasha and Thor’s brief, tense exchange came to an end—

The spectral phoenix, which had so gently embraced Hawk, unfurled its wings once more.

A vortex of crimson fire erupted, a pillar of flame that tore at the sky.

And from within that inferno, Hawk, who had been standing with his eyes closed, opened them.

His eyes, now burning with crimson fire, swirled with a golden light, his pupils transformed. The next second, from within the flames, he raised a single finger and pointed it at Malekith, who was still fifty meters away.

“Supersonic—”

“—Fist!”

A blinding white light coalesced on the tip of Hawk’s finger. A split second before the thunderous roar of the impact echoed across the plains, Malekith’s body was already arching backward, launched through the air as if struck by an invisible cannonball.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

The Supersonic Fist.

A punch delivered at several times the speed of sound, generating a shockwave so powerful it could kill an ordinary Bronze Saint with a single finger.

And it was merely the standard technique of a Silver Saint. If he wanted to, as long as his Cosmo burned, he could use it forever.

But no Silver Saint ever would.

Why??

Because if the gap between a Bronze Saint and a normal human was the gap between a billionaire and a beggar, then the chasm between a Silver Saint and a Bronze Saint was the chasm between a God and a Stray dog.

Hawk, bare-chested and radiating an infernal heat, stepped out of the flames of his rebirth.

Within his Cosmo—the spectral phoenix spread its colossal wings—spanning his entire inner universe. It raised its head in a triumphant cry as his personal cosmos expanded, pushing against the void with unstoppable force.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

Malekith slammed into the ground, gouging out a deep crater, then shot back to his feet, a look of pure, uncomprehending horror on his face.

“IMPOSSIBLE!”

“ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE!”

“You cannot be a God!” Malekith roared, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the reborn Hawk, at the crimson flames that still licked at his powerful bare-chested physique.

Hawk’s expression was calm, almost bored. “I am not a God.”

He wasn’t.

At least, not until he had awakened the Ninth Sense. But when he did, he would be a Creator God.

The one and only Creator God of his own Phoenix Universe.

As for why Malekith thought he was one? The reason was simple.

Hawk held the very dominion over Immortality and Rebirth. And only a God could wield such power.

Praise the Phoenix!!

...

Malekith stared, then his disbelief curdled into a furious rage.

He threw his hands out, the Aether particles within him flowing like a crimson river to his palms. “I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU ARE! GIVE ME THE AETHER!”

A mountain of pure Aether manifested above Hawk’s head and came crashing down.

The next second, it slammed to a halt.

CRASH!!!!

Hawk hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even flinched. He simply raised his right hand. He stood there, one-handed, holding up a mountain, his body as unmoving as the earth itself.

“...” Peter, who was still perched on one of the stone pillars, let out a sharp, audible breath.

Clint’s pupils constricted.

Natasha’s hands clenched into fists.

Thor patted Mjølnir. “That’s nothing. I can lift a planet.”

His hammer had been forged in the heart of a dying star. So theoretically, Thor could lift a star.

Natasha shot him a look, then turned her attention back to the impossible sight before her.

She had never seen Thor lift a planet. But she was seeing Hawk hold up a mountain with one hand.

If the Supersonic Fist was the basic requirement for a Silver Saint…

Then moving mountains and parting seas was the true standard.

Every Silver Saint, even the weakest among them, could lift a mountain with ease or walk on the bottom of the deepest ocean as if it were dry land.

Hawk glanced up at the mountain of Aether resting on his palm.

The next second, he raised his left hand and tapped the base of the mountain with a single finger.

With a soft—crack—the entire mountain disintegrated, crumbling into a shower of pebbles and dust.

“...” Malekith’s eyes widened, his mind unable to process what he was seeing.

Hawk just shook his head, a look of genuine disappointment on his face. He looked at Malekith, his voice calm.

“You were right.”

“Before, I was like Thor. I couldn’t control my full power. I couldn’t have beaten you.”

“I won’t deny that.”

Natasha instinctively glanced at Thor.

Hawk’s voice carried on, cutting through the silence.

“But…”

“Now that I have awakened, now that I have control… You are weak. So weak that I have almost no interest in fighting you.”

He shook his head again and slowly turned his back, as if the fight were already over.

Malekith's ruined face twisted with fury, mottled and red. “You bastard. Are you calling me weak?”

He shot forward in a blur, appearing behind Hawk in an instant. A dagger of pure Aether formed in his hand.

“HOLY SHIT, HAWK, LOOK OUT!”

“LOOK OUT!”

Peter and Natasha cried out at the same time.

Instantly, Hawk spun around.

SLAP!!!

A single, contemptuous backhand slap sent Malekith flying a hundred meters through the air.

Hawk turned his back on him again, his voice as calm as ever. “But, as thanks for helping me awaken my Sixth Sense, and for the gift of the Aether, I will honor you with my strongest attack—”

As he spoke, the crimson flames behind him erupted once more. But this time, they did not form a phoenix. Instead, they coalesced, carving the image of a fearsome Fire Dragon onto his back.

BOOOOOOOOM!

As the Dragon took form, Hawk turned to face them again. He raised his right hand toward the sky, settling into the opening stance of his most devastating attack.

The spectral Fire Dragon on his back released a roar—its body coiling and uncoiling with terrifying, barely restrained power.

As the Dragon moved, the air around Hawk began to crackle and burn.

A moment later, Hawk looked up at the sky.

"Rise to the sky!"

“ROOOOAR!!!”