Illusiveone
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29: Marvel's Green Lantern, My Power is MAXIMUMER!!!
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 11:34:47 +0000 UTCMax studied the schematics on the glowing green screen before him, his eyes narrowing in focus. His enhanced mind was one of the many things he appreciated about the enhanced body he had awakened to in this universe. His mind had become something greater, ideas came faster, solutions clearer.
He had always been intelligent. His mother, a scientist by profession, had urged him toward a more scholarly path in physics, engineering, biotech. But Max had taken a different road. He loved digging through history more than what his mom and dad did for a living, and that was why he had become an archaeologist.
Still, his new mind was a gift. Concepts once difficult now came naturally. Languages, sciences, alien tech he absorbed them with ease. It also made wielding the ring easier: he could recall every detail of something he’d seen years ago and recreate it. The mech constructs he used were drawn mostly from what he saw during his and Odin's travels in the Shi’ar Empire and from anime he’d watched as a kid. Even if he didn’t know the exact specifications, the ring could extrapolate and make them work as he wanted and so far, that had served him well.
But he wanted more. He wanted to make his constructs even more powerful—and he had found a way.
The screen faded as he dismissed the construct with a wave of his hand. Max stepped out of the room within the stone-carved monastery he and Odin had called home for the past three years—Agamotto’s house, the place that would one day be called Kamar-Taj. The view from the house was something else: the Himalayas surrounded it, and the fresh, cool mountain air was invigorating.
He could see Odin in deep meditation alongside Agamotto. The future king of Asgard had immersed himself in the arcane arts with a vigor that surprised even Agamotto, who in turn had begun learning a few Asgardian magicks.
Max had stayed out of that. Magic wasn’t his domain. He had the ring one of the most powerful weapons in existence and his own path to walk.
In the years following what happened in Egypt—Rama-Tut, the Revengers, and all the revelations from the time travelers—Max had grown more wary. That wariness had set him on this path: a quest to gain more power, a need to truly understand what he was now… and what he might yet become.
He had some time to reflect on it all, especially the cryptic revelations from his encounters with Surtur, Mimir, and Bor. The way they had spoken of him, the way they identified him… as an Elder of the Universe.
That still sat uneasily in his mind.
There were only two possibilities that made any sense. Either someone long ago had already harnessed the green light of will in this universe before his arrival becoming this so-called Elder or…
Or it was him.
Somehow. Through time travel.
He hated that possibility more than anything else. It meant time loops, paradoxes everything Kang and the TVA deal with. He didn’t want to complicate things; it gave him a headache every time he thought about it. Was there another him out there? An older version? Was he just repeating a cycle?
Max shook the thoughts away. He wasn’t ready to dwell on that matter yet.
Instead, he focused on the now as he flew down toward the green valley below the mountain where Agamotto’s home rested. The air was crisp, and the light of the morning sun bathed the trees in gold.
He hadn’t spent the full three years on Earth. He had left many times, sometimes with Odin, though only twice. Most journeys he made alone.
He had traveled to the Kree homeworld Hala, sneaking into their hyper-advanced and large databanks and absorbing every scrap of historical and scientific knowledge he could. He’d visited Xandar, which was not yet the vast star empire it would become, but a flourishing civilization on the rise. He wandered the edges of the known cosmos, uncovering dead worlds left behind by fallen empires.
Each place had stories, technology, warnings and he learned from them all, all of which Jade, his ever-efficient AI companion, was now sorting out in the ring's vast and almost infinite storage.
There were still things he wanted to do. Top of the list was returning to Asgard to steal Mimir’s head. It held a lot of knowledge, and Max always felt regret for not securing it.
He would go for it but not yet. It would bring too much heat down on Odin, and Max wouldn’t risk putting his friend in that position.
But one day…
Max landed softly in a wide clearing nestled in the heart of the valley. The grass was still wet with dew. Birds chirped from the treetops, and for a fleeting moment, it all felt peaceful.
But that wouldn’t last.
This clearing this patch of Earth had become Max’s testing zone. And today, it would bear witness to something new.
He raised his hand. The emerald light of his ring pulsed as he summoned the first construct: a towering mech, easily two hundred feet tall, its form modeled loosely after Gipsy Danger from Pacific Rim, with dual reactor cores visible on its chest, thick armor-plated limbs, and a helmeted head.
It came together fast. In seconds, the first mech stood tall and complete, forming like a memory poured into light. This was how Max had always done it: imagination, determination, and raw willpower fast, flashy, functional enough. For the past seven years, this method had served him well.
But it was also flawed.
The second mech was different.
Max took a slow breath, and instead of summoning it all at once, he built it piece by piece.
Where the first mech was fast, this one was slow to form. He started from the skeleton an articulated spine made of interlocking joints and dampeners. Then came the servos, the hydraulic pistons, and energy-conductive channels like arteries and nerves. Each piece wasn’t just willed into existence; it was designed with calculated precision.
Max had spent years traveling, stealing tech specs from Kree databases, analyzing Spartax battlesuits, studying the modular warframes of the Nova Federation. He’d absorbed it all: the way torque distributed under pressure, how kinetic dampeners reduced joint strain, how adaptive armor could shift density in response to impact velocity. He had learned all of it, and now he was using that knowledge to create the construct.
Constructs made this way down to the tiniest bolt weren’t just harder to destroy; they were more efficient. They were also something Max could control more easily.
The old method? It was like drawing a sword with your will.
This? This was forging the blade yourself. Sharpening it. Balancing it. Designing it, piece by piece.
“Alright, Jade, let’s run some tests,” Max said, his arms crossed, eyes glinting with anticipation.
Jade’s voice came through the comms, crisp and clear. “Acknowledged, Max. All observation protocols are active.”
The two towering constructs green titans of pure will faced each other like gladiators.
Max raised his hand. “And let’s begin.”
The first mech charged forward, its steps quaking the ground. With an echoing clang, it threw a thunderous punch at the second. The blow landed solidly right on the chest but the second mech barely moved. Its structure absorbed the impact.
Max grinned. “Good.”
The second mech retaliated.
Its counterpunch came faster than expected streamlined components snapped forward with optimal force delivery, driving its fist into the side of the first mech. Armor plates buckled. The first construct reeled back, stumbling, already showing signs of structural weakness.
“Impact analysis complete,” Jade reported. “Second construct demonstrates 90% higher stability and 70% more efficient energy dissipation. This is a vast improvement, Max. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Max replied. “The big ones are coming together well. Still struggling with the smaller constructs, though…”
He remembered the fight in Thebes how a smaller construct had played a big role in its defeat.
“Jade, let’s focus on micro-units next. Dive deeper into the Kree and Xandarian tech archives. I remember seeing swarm drones…very clever stuff.”
“Affirmative,” Jade responded.
Meanwhile, the first mech attempted another lunge, trying to grapple the second. But the second construct shifted its weight, braced its frame, and drove an uppercut through the midsection of the first. Green light fractured like glass. The first mech broke apart completely, pieces dissolving into mist as the victor stood silent and unmoved.
Max clapped slowly. “Bravo, bravo.”
He raised his ring and summoned three more constructs each modeled after the first. They surrounded the second mech and attacked together, trying to overwhelm it.
The second construct dismantled them one by one. In less than a minute, it stood alone once again.
A voice echoed from behind him.
“Well, finally come out of that room, then?” Odin called with a smile as he descended from the sky, hammer in hand. He landed with a gentle thud beside Max.
The Prince of Asgard was dressed in flowing blue-and-gold robes. Max wore his own green-trimmed and sleeveless. It was quite comfortable, and Max had Agamotto make more for him.
“I felt the earth shake and figured only you could be the cause,” Odin said, chuckling.
Max gave a sideways smile. “Just doing some sparring with myself. Turns out I’m a hell of an opponent.”
Odin looked up at the still-standing construct. “From what I just saw, you’re getting better, Grænlaðr.”
Max grinned. “Oh, you’ve seen nothing yet. Here check this out.”
He pointed his ring toward the earth. A new shape began forming on the ground: a deer emerged, its hooves daintily touching the grass, its head lifting as if sensing the morning breeze. It sniffed the air and flicked its ears, moving and reacting with startling realism.
Odin raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a deer.”
Max held up a finger. “Wait for it…”
As he concentrated, the glow around the deer shifted. Color bloomed across its surface browns and grays and small black spots. The once purely green construct now took on the tones of a real deer, though it still shimmered faintly with a translucent emerald aura, betraying its true nature.
Odin leaned in. “Well, that’s new…”
“...Can we eat it?”
Max sighed. “For the thousandth time, Odin no, you can’t eat my constructs.”
Odin shrugged. “Shame. It looks almost real now.”
“That’s the point,” Max replied. “I’ve been studying structural coloration. Combine that with careful bending of light through the construct’s surface, and you get this.”
“Still a bit… glowy,” Odin pointed out.
Max nodded. “Not perfect yet. But it’s getting there.”
Odin nodded, genuinely impressed. “So… how about we spar, then? Perhaps with your new strength, you’ll finally be able to defeat me.”
Max narrowed his eyes. “Hey, last time I was distracted. I was testing something mid-fight.”
Odin chuckled. “Ah, excuses, excuses.”
Max turned fully to him, cracking his knuckles with a grin. “Odin, my friend… I don’t think you’re ready for the new and improved me.”
Odin’s grin widened. “And I, Grænlaðr, have picked up some tricks of my own. Let’s test them.”
“Gladly,” Max said and without warning, he raised his ring and gave a command.
The towering mech construct behind him raised its fist and slammed it down toward Odin.
WHAM!
Odin leapt backward just in time, soaring into the air as a massive crater formed where he had been standing.
The construct didn’t stop. Controlled by Max, it stomped after Odin, launching another thunderous punch skyward.
“Not fair!” Odin bellowed as he dodged. “You didn’t say we’d started!”
Max laughed, flying upward to join him. “Look who’s making excuses now!”
With a hiss of kinetic energy, the towering construct lunged and snatched Odin mid-flight. Massive mechanical fingers clenched around the prince’s body before flinging him through the air like a missile.
Odin twisted awkwardly, barely managing to slow his momentum. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned Mjolnir swinging wide and anchoring his flight. He leveled out and braced himself midair.
Golden mandalas sparked to life along his arms, runes glowing with mystic energy Odin had been learning from Agamotto, after all. He thrust both palms forward, sending a cascade of golden sigils and spells crashing into the Jaeger.
BOOM!
The energy struck with precision… but to Odin’s surprise, the mech barely flinched. Its armor rippled with green light, absorbing the hit with hardly a shudder.
Max let out a wild laugh half joy, half madness. “Did you see that? It barely moved!”
All the work he had done over the last three years and seeing it pay off was a new kind of pleasure.
Odin’s eyes widened slightly. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d grown in power.”
“Oh, my friend,” Max grinned, flying toward him, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”
The Jaeger surged upward again, its left arm reshaping into a gleaming energy blade. In its right hand, Max summoned a new construct: a shoulder-mounted weapon array bristling with rotating barrels and a high-energy emitter.
It fired.
Bolts of focused green energy blasted toward Odin more potent than any of Max’s prior constructs. One blast clipped Odin’s shoulder, sending him tumbling, momentarily stunned.
Recovering quickly, Odin raised Mjolnir high, summoning the heavens.
“Let’s see how you handle this,” he bellowed.
Lightning danced across the sky as he wove a complex series of runes with his free hand. When he slammed Mjolnir into the glyph, golden thunder crashed from above, arcing directly toward Max.
Max was ready.
He extended his hand, forming a glowing prism orb multisided and refractive a construct inspired by technology he had seen on a Xandarian outpost orbiting a gas giant. That device redirected lightning storms to generate power.
The golden bolt hit.
KRASH!
The prism flashed, refracted… and then redirected the lightning cleanly back toward Odin.
The prince barrel-rolled away, narrowly dodging the reflected bolt. “Well played,” he bellowed, now genuinely impressed.
But he wasn’t finished.
“Now watch this,” Odin roared.
Dozens of arms burst from behind him. They wove sigils in the air and clapped together.
A moment later, two dozen perfect duplicates of Odin shimmered into view, flanking Max. Each one raised a glowing hand—and a Mjolnir.
“Now let’s see how you get out of this, Grænlaðr.”
With a roar, the Odins fired in unison. Magic. Lightning. The Jaeger took the full assault. It stumbled under the combined barrage, plating cracking, internal systems faltering.
Max narrowed his eyes. He tried to stabilize it, but it was no use. Even his improved systems couldn’t withstand that kind of attack.
The Jaeger fractured, close to destruction. Max raised his hand and dismissed it before it exploded.
Dozens of Odins turned their glowing gaze toward Max, hovering midair.
Max met their eyes. “Alright,” he said. “Now you’ve got my attention.”
The Odins floated their hammers beside them and raised both hands in a swift, fluid motion. Runes lit the air and from the weave of mystic energy came spiraling bands.
The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak Max recognized them.
Long, glowing tendrils of unbreakable red light lashed out, twisting through the air like serpents. Max felt a flicker of déjà vu as he remembered Strange using the same attack on Thanos.
A shield construct formed in an instant an emerald orb snapping into place just before the bands could constrict him. They wrapped around it instead, slithering over its glowing surface, tightening.
Max smirked.
“Let’s see… what to do, what to do,” he muttered, pointing his ring downward. The green orb shimmered as he concentrated, instructing it to mimic the properties of vibranium. Remembering his time with Azzuri, Max channeled a focused blast of pure willpower into the now vibranium-mimicking construct.
The construct drank it in. The surface rippled, glowed brighter, until—
BOOM!
A massive shockwave exploded outward.
The Crimson Bands shattered, disintegrating into flecks of scarlet mist. The force swept across the field, obliterating every single Odin duplicate in a flash of light.
Odin shielded his eyes. “What in the Nine Realms was that?” he blurted, blinking in disbelief.
In a blink, Max pointed his ring again, this time encasing Odin himself inside a construct orb.
“Wait, what—?” Odin began.
Before he could finish, Max raised his hand, and a towering construct materialized behind him: an absurdly massive version of himself, cartoonishly grinning, surrounded by flashing neon lights and standing before a giant pinball machine.
“Grænlaðr… what are you doing?”
Max’s grin widened. “Just going to play a game of pinball.”
With that, he slammed his construct-sized hand down on the plunger, launching the orb that contained Odin into the glowing, oversized pinball machine.
“Wha—NOOO—!”
Ding-ding!
The orb ricocheted off glowing bumpers, rang bells, and smashed into ramps. Energy barriers sparked and lit up with each impact. The machine flashed a score: 500 POINTS.
Max’s huge construct self worked the paddles with glee.
“Give up any time, my friend!” Max called, laughing as the orb smashed into another glowing spinner and shot up a ramp.
“NEVER!” Odin shouted from inside, his voice muffled by the spinning chaos.
Then came the jackpot shot. SLAM—the paddles launched him into a final bumper cluster that made the entire machine vibrate.
“Alright, alright—I surrender! I yield, damn you!”
Max chuckled, clapped once, and the construct vanished. The orb cracked open midair, releasing a very dizzy and nauseated Odin, who dropped out and landed hard on the ground.
He groaned, rolled to the side… and threw up.
Max landed beside Odin with a smug grin.
Odin, still catching his breath and wiping his mouth, glared at him weakly. “You… you…”
Max chuckled, enjoying himself immensely. “I’m just that good.”
Before Odin could retort, a new voice dry and unimpressed joined them.
“You know,” Agamotto said as he descended from above, “this valley used to be quite peaceful. Animals would frolic; birds would call it home…”
Max turned to him with a playful shrug. “They still do.”
Agamotto raised an eyebrow. “Not if you two continue battling like this.”
Odin, still recovering but smiling again, said proudly, “It was a grand battle.” He glanced at Max, his tone turning more serious. “You are now as strong as me, Grænlaðr.”
Max smiled. “I think i have surpassed you my friend.”
“Eh.. i dont think so… it was a spar i let you win..”
Max laughed “excuses excuses”
Odin’s expression sharpened, his competitiveness returning. “You want to go again….”
Agamotto stepped closer, clapping his hands once. “If your egos are quite finished clashing, I have something that requires our attention. I’ve located another artifact I need for the project.”
Both Max and Odin turned toward him.
The project Agamotto spoke of was something the sorcerer had been working on for years: his plan to safeguard Earth from interdimensional threats beings like Dormammu, Mephisto, and Shuma-Gorath and it required three specific artifacts. They had found the first one a year ago. Now, it seemed, Agamotto had a lead on the second.
“If it’s anything like the last one, I don’t think all of us need to go.”
Agamotto folded his arms. “The Daevas were very accommodating, yes…”
Max snorted. “Ha! Accommodating? You said we might have to fight our way into their dimension to get the artifact.”
“I was wrong,” Agamotto admitted. “A rare occurrence, but it does happen.”
Agamotto was more than wrong.
They had arrived in Dwaraka the resplendent, thriving city ruled by Krishna, an avatar of Vishnu. Agamotto had expected resistance, perhaps even a trial of worth to reach their goal: the hidden dimensional gate to the Daevas’ divine realm—the Hindu pantheon, as they would come to be called in the future.
Instead?
It turned into a vacation for them.
Max had floated the idea of simply asking for access, and to everyone’s surprise, it worked. Krishna welcomed them with open arms. The dimensional portal was opened, and they were led directly into the realm of the Daevas.
The realm was paradise, and part of Max didn’t want to leave. They met Vishnu without any trouble, asked for the artifact, and the god simply gave it to them—no demands, no fight. He asked for nothing in return.
They stayed in the dimension for days, maybe weeks; time moved differently there. They attended large feasts; Agamotto and Odin learned some magic, and Max—well, he spent time with the apsaras.
Good times. Good times
It was great, and he was very sad to leave.
“So where is it?” Odin asked, breaking Max out of his thoughts.
“I’ve felt its presence on the southernmost continent. There lies a hidden realm… a land lost to time.”
Max blinked. Southernmost continent… land lost to time… Oh! Realization dawned. The Savage Land. I totally forgot that place even existed. He remembered reading about it on a Marvel wiki years ago a hidden prehistoric world preserved beneath Antarctica, where dinosaurs still existed.
A childlike grin spread across Max’s face. “Let’s not wait, then. I want to ride a T. rex.”
Odin squinted. “What’s a T. rex?”
Max chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see.”
Without further delay, Max raised his ring. Emerald light shimmered and gathered, condensing into the sleek form of a glowing green sports car.
He opened the gull-wing doors with a flourish and gestured casually. “Get in, gentlemen.”
Odin and Agamotto exchanged a glance, then shrugged in unison and climbed into the construct without protest. Max slid into the driver’s seat, grinning as the doors hissed shut and sealed with a soft click.
A burst of green energy flared beneath the car as it lifted off the ground and then, with a roar like a sonic boom, the vehicle surged skyward.
Emerald streaks blurred the clouds around them as they shot toward the southernmost point of the Earth.
Toward the Savage Land.
Comments
Tyler Karp
Thank you for the chapter
June Soriano
Thank you for the chapter.
