Demon King of Time in Marvel

Chapter 10 Echoes of Self

The vortex had swallowed Ohma whole. A swirling kaleidoscope of colours and sounds engulfed his senses. He felt himself being pulled apart, stretched thin, then compressed back together, sensations that were both terrifying and exhilarating. And just as suddenly it began, it stopped.

Ohma opened his eyes. He was on solid ground… or something close to it. The ground shimmered, one second it was solid earth, the next a swirling mist that parted like water, revealing a fleeting reflection of his armored form. Not only was the land strange, so was the sky, it churned with hues of emerald, crimson and violet, swirling like oil on water. Fragments of other timelines, like shards of broken glass could be seen in the sky- crumbling coliseum, a futuristic cityscape,a prehistoric jungle - all visible at once.

It was a chaotic symphony of different realities, a fractured mirror reflecting thousand different possibilities.

Ohma took a tentative step. The ground held, but the air felt thick, as if walking in water. Not to mention, that he had stepped forward but had moved backward. He felt a strange lightness, as if gravity was playing tricks. Deciding not to take chances with this strange place, Ohma decisively used [Stasis].

The world abruptly changed. As if it had stabilized, a structure appeared dominating the landscape, but it was strange. One moment, it was a fortress of dark stones, gothic spires reaching towards the sky; the next, it morphed into a structure of interwoven trees and glowing flora; then into a sleek building with panels of shimmering glass.

The castle was changing in stopped time, another anomaly, not to mention it only appeared when he used [Stasis]. Deciding to test something, Ohma stepped forward again, this time he was able to safely move forward and wasn't displaced.

As he reached the base of the structure, the castle gates, he ran his hand along the wall, his fingers brushed against an intricate carving. It wasn't in any language he understood, but he instinctively understood its meaning . One symbol, a swirling vortex; seemed to represent the dimension itself, Chronarium. Another, a stylized hourglass, pointed towards the structure : Keep of Epochs.

As he opened the castle gates and stepped through, all the anomalies stopped. A still quietness enveloped him. Through the gates was a large circular room with a golden throne, behind which a clock was ticking, as if waiting for its rightful ruler to take its place on it.

The ceiling seemed to dissolve into a swirling vortex of colors, a metaphorical abyss that hinted at the infinite possibilities—and dangers—of time itself. The walls, though smooth and featureless, seemed to absorb and subtly emit the ambient light, casting a soft glow across the chamber. Seeing no door, window or anything Ohma made his way towards the throne. What is this place?

The throne was like a calling to him. As he sat, a foreign influx of information flooded his mind, visions flickering before his eyes; timelines collapsing, figures rising and falling.

This place… it's a nexus, he realized, connected to every timeline. The Keep of Echoes, a graveyard of lost realities. A sense of immense power radiated from the throne, a power that resonated with his own temporal abilities. I can change this place? He thought, visualizing the room transforming. Anyone who sits here has that authority. It even comes with the ability to move through different timelines and universes. But a chilling undercurrent ran through the information, a warning. This power comes at a price. Before assuming control there's a test.

A snippet of information flashed through his mind: The universe itself created this place, a sanctuary in its dying time, a desperate plea for help from whoever was worthy.

He was even given a snippet that he wasn't the only challenger it had faced, the previous ones had failed, and as a result were erased from the timeline. So was he ready to take on this enormous responsibility?

Of course. I am. This was a good opportunity to learn about not only why his enemy was trying to steal time. But also about the timeline being a broken mess.

"I accept your challenge" Ohma declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. In an instant, his vision was enveloped in white.

As he regained his consciousness, he noticed that his transformation had ended.

"Hello, other me" a figure said, the voice a chilling echo.

Devon turned, his eyes widening. It was him. A perfect copy, from the attire to the face, a mirror image. Only the eyes… they were cold, emotionless, hinting at untold cruelty.

"Are you ready to face the consequences of your choices?" The Other Devon continued.

"Consequences are inevitable," Devon stated. "It's not about avoiding them, it's about owning them."

"Let's go back to our childhood, the orphanage," the Other Devon said, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "You were their leader. So, why didn't you have any friends? Did you consider them beneath you?"

"I never meant to." Devon countered, "I wanted to connect with them, and I thought leadership was the way to do it. I was wrong. It was then I realized... friends weren't something that came easily to me."

"You became a scientist, to sate your curiosity, yet you still visited the orphanage? Why?"

"Because no one should be alone," Devon replied, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes. "I wanted to be an example. Proof that even without support, you can achieve something. I made myself."

"Let's talk about Project Cronos," the Other Devon interrupted, his voice laced with venom. "You stopped it. But was it selfless? A hero's act? Don't lie, we both know the truth."

"No," Devon admitted, his gaze hardening. "It wasn't pure selflessness. That project… it was mine. My responsibility. I protect what's mine. Even if it means my own demise."

"So, selfish," the Other Devon concluded, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Like when you used Lily. Now she's dead, thanks to the man she thought was her savior."

"That wasn't something I could control," Devon retorted, a pang of guilt striking him. "My powers… I barely understood them then, I didn't even know I could transform."

"Speaking of transformations," the Other Devon said, his eyes gleaming with temporal energy. "You believe your powers came from Cronos, tied to your will. Then explain Ohma Zi-O. The Demon King of Time. The strongest Rider. That had nothing to do with your will. Any armor would have worked, wouldn't it?"

"That's a question I've wrestled with," Devon admitted. "Perhaps it was… Alex giving me that watch. Perhaps it was some latent potential triggered by the experiment."

"You're deflecting," the Other Devon hissed. "Ohma… it wasn't just Alex. You crave that power. You think you control time?" He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Time controls you. It dragged you here, to this dying echo of a place. You're no savior, Devon. You're afraid of what you could become."

He moved with blinding speed, grabbing Devon by the throat. "Look!"

The chamber shifted, revealing a vision: Ohma Zi-O, seated on a throne of bones, ruling over a desolate landscape. "This is what we could become," the Other Devon snarled. "Gods among mortals. We could decide their fate."

Devon struggled against the grip, his mind racing. He saw the desolate future, the chilling emptiness of absolute control. That's not power. That's a prison.

"A predetermined fate breeds resentment," Devon choked out. "No one wants their freedom taken."

"You're just like me," the Other Devon hissed, tightening his grip. "You'll do anything to achieve your goals, no matter the cost."

"Perhaps," Devon gasped. "But I have a reason. You've lost yours."

"You cling to limitations," the Other Devon whispered, his grip loosening slightly. "You'll never be free."

"Freedom isn't escaping responsibility," Devon countered, pushing the Other Devon's hand away. "It's accepting it. And I've never shied away from consequences."

With a final surge of temporal energy, the Other Devon lunged, attempting to merge with Devon. But Devon stood firm, focusing his own power, not to attack, but to solidify his sense of self. He pushed back, rejecting the darkness, the allure of absolute power.

The Other Devon threw back his head and laughed, a sound that echoed through the chamber. As the laughter subsided, a dark aura enveloped him. The air grew heavy, charged with temporal energy. Then, the armor appeared. Piece by piece, it materialized, plates of black metal adorned with intricate gold markings, forming the imposing silhouette of Another Ohma Zi-O. The transformation was complete.

The shifting letters reappeared:

"You have confronted your inner self. Your desires, and your fears. You have chosen your path. But will you have the strength to walk it? Now… defeat the embodiment of your potential."

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From the "Liber Tenebris," Fragment 7:

"Beware the reflection, for it holds the key to both power and destruction. To conquer time, one must first conquer oneself."

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