"I hate trouble, and I hate always being a savior.
"So, can you calm down a bit?"
Ragna lounged on the throne of the Sacred Heavenly Palace, his left leg crossed over his right, his left hand lazily propping up his head while his right hand tapped idly on the golden armrest. The immense divine presence he exuded was in stark contrast to his relaxed posture.
Before him, the battlefield was reduced to utter devastation.
The once-indestructible Sentinels—Bolivar Trask's pride and the nightmare of Mutants—were now melting into molten slag under the radiance of a golden flame, one of Ragna 's divine abilities. The Sentinels' adaptive mechanisms, capable of integrating the X-Gene of various Mutants, were utterly ineffective. Ice, diamond, adamantium—all their advanced defenses had failed to resist the divine incineration.
The Mutant Brotherhood and the X-Men were left in stunned silence.
Storm, her white eyes dimming from her previous battle-ready state, leaned toward Wolverine and whispered,
"In all your years, Logan… have you ever seen a god descend like this?"
Logan, who had lived through countless wars, betrayals, and cosmic-level crises, exhaled deeply.
"Never."
Burning Man John Allerdyce had perished in the eruption of Yellowstone. Scarlet Witch, struggling to fend off the Sentinels, had been unable to protect him. Now, the Brotherhood—tense, leaderless, and grieving—began to shift their gaze toward Wanda Maximoff.
Tensions rose as whispers of betrayal spread among the remaining Mutants.
Quicksilver, panting from exhaustion after pushing his limits to rescue the wounded, stood beside his sister, his piercing blue eyes flickering between the Brotherhood and the towering figure of Ragna .
Then Ragna 's voice—calm yet absolute—cut through the air like a divine decree.
"This matter ends here."
His eyes burned with golden light as he looked over the battlefield.
"The Sentinels will never again appear on Earth."
His gaze lingered on Wanda Maximoff, not with admiration or desire, but with quiet acknowledgment. Scarlet Witch possessed power capable of rewriting reality itself—Chaos Magic, a force even the Celestials and Ancient Gods regarded with caution. But for Ragna , she was merely another piece on the cosmic chessboard.
In the next instant, Ragna vanished.
The Shadow of Bolivar Trask
In a high-security underground facility, Bolivar Trask stared at the monitors displaying the aftermath at Yellowstone. His fingers tightened around his whiskey glass as he rewound the footage—again and again—analyzing the moment Ragna appeared, the way he effortlessly erased the volcanic eruption and crushed Trask's prized Sentinels.
The man who had prided himself on his intellect and foresight found himself at a loss.
He had always believed in evolution—the survival of the fittest. He respected gods as myths, as symbols, as psychological tools to control the masses. But this? This was different.
"When a god walks the Earth," Trask murmured, his voice void of emotion, "he ceases to be a god. He becomes a conqueror."
His mind worked rapidly. The original plan had been to exterminate the Mutants, but now…
Now, he had a bigger threat to deal with.
"The future of mankind must not be dictated by so-called gods."
"And yet," came a voice from the darkness, "what if your future already belongs to me?"
A golden glow illuminated the dimly lit chamber as Ragna materialized beside him.
Bolivar Trask flinched—just barely. His composure remained mostly intact, but the sheer presence of Ragna made the air feel heavier, like standing before a collapsing star.
"How did you find me?" Trask asked, eyes narrowing. "This room is shielded against all tracking methods, even mystical ones."
Ragna smiled, his fingers tracing the surface of Trask's desk. "Do you think your technology can conceal you from a being who can see through the veil of reality itself?"
Trask's lips pressed into a thin line. "So, what now? You kill me? Wipe out humanity?"
"No," Ragna said smoothly. "I need you to work for me."
Trask's breath caught.
"I want you to develop a new class of Sentinels," Ragna continued. "Not to destroy Mutants, but to serve as weapons in the wars to come. Your knowledge is valuable, Trask. And let's be honest… you never had a choice."
Trask exhaled sharply. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips.
"…I suppose you're right."
He leaned back in his chair and smirked bitterly. "So the strong really are gods, after all."
Ragna 's smile deepened.
"Definitely."
The Rise of a New Legion
With Trask's compliance, Ragna integrated Sentinel technology into his growing dominion. The Sacred Heavenly Palace, already home to the Angel Legion, Iron Legion, and the elite God-Given Warrior Special Forces, now welcomed the Sentinel Legion.
To ensure Trask's loyalty, Ragna granted him unprecedented resources—cutting-edge Mutant DNA samples, Asgardian blood, Jotunheim giant marrow, and even the preserved remains of Ego the Living Planet.
The goal?
To create Sentinels powerful enough to challenge even the Celestials.
In the two years that followed, the universe braced itself for an inevitable war. The tension among the cosmic factions grew unbearable. Empires and deities alike sensed the approaching storm.
Yet, Earth remained eerily silent.
With the Avengers fractured, Nick Fury dead, and HYDRA obliterated, only a handful of new heroes emerged to make any impact.
A single bright spot in the darkness was the arrival of Spider-Man, a young hero who—despite his immense potential—was still unprepared for the battles that loomed ahead.
But now, the year 2017 had arrived.
This year would mark the death of the Ancient One.
The eternal sleep of Odin.
The return of Hela.
And in this year, Ragna had made his decision.
The final war for cosmic dominion was about to begin.
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