Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 787

"I am an eternal spirit of the lamp," the golden silhouette said smoothly. "I can grant any wish you desire. Even godhood."

The words came easily. They always did.

It had no real reason to kill the lamp’s owner. Destroying a host brought no freedom, no restoration, no escape from its prison. But centuries trapped inside the vessel had warped what remained of its personality. Watching mortals twist themselves into monsters through badly worded wishes was entertainment. A way to pass infinity.

George met its gaze with an amused smile.

"Alright," he said. "If I wish that all of your spiritual energy becomes mine, and everything inside this lamp becomes mine as well... can you do it?"

The golden figure froze for a fraction of a second.

Then it smiled wider.

"Of course."

"Good," George said casually. "Make it happen. Right now."

The spirit’s expression turned strange.

"Simple. I merge you into the lamp. You become part of me. My power becomes your power. The lamp’s essence becomes yours."

The vessel flared.

Blinding gold light poured outward, engulfing George as the lamp attempted to melt his body and tear out his soul.

Nothing happened.

The light washed over him like warm mist.

No burning flesh.

No tearing consciousness.

No movement at all.

The golden silhouette recoiled.

"That’s impossible."

Even beings bordering on divinity were erased when a wish activated. And this human was supposed to be insignificant.

George sighed.

"Predictable."

He stood.

The air screamed.

Power surged outward from his body, detonating in a silent shockwave that shredded the golden light into fragments.

Inside his own universe, there was no need to hide.

No need to restrain.

The lamp spirit felt it immediately.

Not a structured hierarchy.

Not a measurable rank.

Just an ocean.

An ocean deeper than anything it remembered from its prime.

For the first time in an age, fear surfaced.

"Even true gods can’t destroy this lamp," the spirit said hurriedly. "You’re strong. Strong enough to bargain. I have knowledge. Secrets. Paths. Names—"

"I don’t need permission," George replied. "I’ll take it straight from your mind."

He raised his hand.

Chains formed from crystallized laws of reality burst into existence, coiling around the lamp from every direction.

"Break."

George clenched his fist.

The chains tightened.

The lamp collapsed inward with a deafening crack, shattering into countless shards.

The golden figure screamed in triumph as it tore free.

"I’m free—!"

It fled upward, ripping through the atmosphere.

Then stopped.

Outside the planet, there was no sun.

No stars.

No spiritual tide.

No lurking gods.

Only endless, absolute nothing.

"What... is this place?"

George’s face manifested across the void, vast and expressionless.

"Seal."

Chains erupted again, binding the spirit from every angle.

Its scream echoed once before being crushed into silence.

Memory.

Identity.

Will.

All of it was torn out and funneled into George’s body.

George inhaled sharply.

This time, the sound was not pain.

It was satisfaction.

Five hours later, the golden figure was gone.

Not merely dead.

Empty.

Only a dense core of primordial soul-stuff remained.

George flicked his fingers.

"Scatter."

The core shattered into countless streaks of light that rained down onto the planet below.

Life ignited.

Across the once-barren world, consciousness began to bloom.

George turned away.

"A pity," he muttered. "With half a brain, you could’ve walked free centuries ago."

Through the memories he absorbed, the truth became clear.

The lamp spirit had once been a primordial entity tied to chaos, distortion, and dominion. It had possessed its own cosmic domain and multiple great power lineages. When the first creator stirred, that domain was torn away and dragged into Earth’s sphere.

Desperate to reclaim it, the entity slipped through a flaw in reality’s barrier.

Instead, it was tricked, stripped, and sealed into the lamp by a higher power.

A cosmic scam with no refunds.

Most beings at the upper end of existence eventually gained the ability to leave Earth. At the absolute peak, some could even carry their followers into deep space to start anew.

But outside Earth’s barrier waited predators.

Too many.

Too hungry.

Which was why no one truly ran.

George returned home.

He closed his eyes and felt the storm inside himself.

Vast.

Dense.

Endless.

"My spiritual reserves... are now on par with a true god."

For anyone else at his stage, that would mean nothing.

Their bodies couldn’t channel it.

Their minds couldn’t shape it.

George was different.

Energy had always been the bottleneck.

Now it wasn’t.

He smiled.