After saying that, Russell voluntarily withdrew the continuous light damage he had inflicted on the Shadow King.
The Shadow King's mind worked quickly, and he soon devised two paths that suited him best.
The first strategy is to fight to the bitter end again, take advantage of the opponent's momentary lapse in attack, then quickly make your body ethereal, slip back into the Starlight Realm, and shrink into its depths.
After all, he had lived like this for a long time, and his skill in hiding was as refined as breathing.
The second option is to bow down to the other party.
Follow this person who uses the light of the entire universe as a flashlight and see what he really wants.
The first option seems more respectable.
It's actually a dead end.
He knew all too well that the light summoned by the words from the other side wasn't simply shining on him.
The entire Starlight Realm might already be under lockdown; if he makes the wrong choice, he will fall directly into the Abyss.
Moreover, the light just now passed through his own consciousness, like fine needles, as if someone were picking at his nerve fibers, and then twisting them afterward.
He had just tried to retract the small amount of black mist that he had painstakingly gathered on his body when it immediately followed and burrowed in, following the force of the contraction, penetrating the thinnest and most defenseless layer of his spirit.
So, while it may seem like there are two paths in front of you, there's really no real choice to be made.
Having lived for so long and absorbed the fears of countless lives, he understood one principle very well.
Compared to the Infinity possibilities of one's future, survival is the most realistic goal.
Face, pride, and obsession are not even worth considering when it comes to whether something "still exists" or "never exists."
"OK."
The Shadow King forced out the word, "I'll go with you."
The moment the words left his mouth, he did something that completely abandoned any defense.
The thin black mist that had gathered around Charles began to retreat on its own, no longer resisting the light that was distributed around him.
The Legion, however, was very unhappy.
"You're occupying my father's body, and you think you can just walk away?"
He suddenly straightened up, straining to regain his balance, "There's no way it's that easy!"
The Shadow King did not reply.
He didn't even give the Legion a complete explanation.
Arguing with a madman who has a thousand voices in his head is such a waste of time.
The body he most wanted to devour in this universe was originally that of the Legion.
A true Omega-level being is many levels stronger than the bald shell in his hand.
But before he could even take a bite, the person in front of him grabbed him first.
Charles's body is passable, I suppose.
If I had to give it a rating, it would only be considered passable; it's barely habitable, but far from satisfactory.
Since it's just something to make do with, I won't be too upset if I lose it.
But he didn't intend to leave just because of a few shouts from the Legion. What kind of dignity is it to be driven away by someone he couldn't beat with a single sentence?
His gaze passed over the angry face and landed steadily on Russell.
From beginning to end, there was only one person who could determine his fate.
The Legion understands this as well.
Suppressing his pent-up anger, he earnestly pleaded with Russell:
"Please help me."
Russell had no connection with the Legion in this universe. Today was the first time he had met this Mutants with a thousand personalities, and also the first time he had learned that Charles Xavier of this universe had been possessed by an ancient ghost.
But he glanced at the bald man.
The light shone down from the starry sky, reflecting off the head and making his eyes feel a little uncomfortable.
The reason is simple: this head is just too much of an eyesore.
The Ancient One looks better with a bald head.
"Get out of his body," Russell began, his tone flat. "I'll build you a new one."
The Shadow King ' "eyes" lit up.
"New?" He repeated cautiously, "How is it? Is it stronger than the body I currently occupy?"
"It's stronger than your current one, even stronger than the one you wanted. I guarantee you won't suffer any losses."
Can it be stronger than Legion?
The Shadow King remained silent for a full two seconds.
In those two seconds, he went through thousands of possibilities in his mind.
This could be a trap, a contract, Soul Stone lock, a bloodline brand, or perhaps he's being used as someone's tool, a component within a larger vessel.
He went through each and every one of them, and then rejected them all.
If the other party really wanted to kill him, they wouldn't need to go through all this trouble.
"Make a deal."
The black mist deep within the cells suddenly detached from the body.
When that thing was pulled out of Charles's body, it made a muffled sound, like a drawer that hadn't been opened in a long time being ripped open.
Charles's body immediately went limp, his Cloak unfurled in the starry sky, his body was kept in a state of near-suspended motion by the Legion force in the universe, his face was deathly pale, and his eyes were tightly closed.
The Legion charged forward faster than he could muster.
"Father!"
Charles's eyelids twitched slightly.
When he opened his eyes again, they were blue, without any black impurities.
"David..."
Legion of people helped Charles up, as if a thousand voices were stuck in their throats, but in the end, nothing came out.
"Are you... are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Charles reached out and took his son's hand.
The hand was raised slowly and with little force, but the grip was firm. "You did very well."
Legion turbulent mental world gradually calmed down, somewhat abruptly, as if a hand had pressed down on a boiling pot.
"I... have been fighting the Shadow King."
"I know," Charles smiled. "Now we can stop."
"... good."
On the other side, Russell raised his hand.
Light flowed from his palms, swirling around his fingertips, spreading and stretching across the void of the universe to generate blood vessels and organs, weaving a human form.
This body looked excessively clean, without any scars or traces of Genes, like a blank sheet of paper, without even a speck of ink.
"This body is one I created using your power," Russell said. "It has no Charles Genes, no Mutants Genes, no human Genes... It has nothing, so it can be anything, perfectly fitting your possession."
"It's yours now."
Without hesitation, the black mist poured in completely.
The body lit up the instant it was filled, so bright it was blinding. Then the light sank down layer by layer, sinking beneath the skin, where very faint dark lines appeared.
The Shadow King stood in the Cosmic Space, raising his hand to adjust to his new body.
"This body--"
"He feels stronger than Charles, even stronger than the Legion, stronger than any Mutants I've ever seen."
Russell explained the special feature of this new body, "It can absorb fear Infinity and grow stronger with you, so you can do whatever you did before."
"I can vaguely sense that this body is very suitable for me."
Charles, gradually recovering from his weakness, spoke to Russell:
"SIR."
Russell turned around.
"The Shadow King is the fusion of the dark psyches of countless Mutants." Charles spoke softly, enunciating each word clearly.
"He can be seen as evil itself; such a person will never submit to anyone forever."
The Shadow King turned his head, extremely dissatisfied with Professor X's evaluation of him.
"Good and evil are always relative; there is no pure justice, nor is there pure evil. Charles, you've lived so many years, taught so many years, and mentored so many students, and you still don't understand?"
Charles looked at him, his expression unchanged.
"I see."
But I still believe that human nature is inherently good.
The Shadow King laughed out loud, a laugh that was hard to tell whether it was mockery or weariness.
"Human nature is inherently good, why don't you say human nature is inherently evil? Charles, you always say the same thing."
Russell wasn't listening to the debate at all.
"I never expect anyone to truly submit," he interjected, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather, "I believe in absolute strength."
Charles wanted to say something more.
It could be a piece of advice, a warning, or even the kind of admonition that older people say even though they know it's useless.
Russell didn't give him that time.
He reached out and grabbed the back of the Shadow King's new body by the collar, lifting it up like a piece of clothing.
A thin slit tore open in the space behind him, so thin it was almost invisible.
See you again sometime.
Earth, New York.
The white light receded, Russell landed back on the street.
Mutants were still walking in groups on the streets, the lines stretching as far as the eye could see. Some held up portraits, some bowed their heads in prayer, and some carved their names on the walls, stroke by stroke, with more devotion than when signing their names.
The Shadow King stood beside him, his new body appearing serene in the morning light. The thin layer of black mist clung to his skin, flowing smoothly, more like a garment that could be removed than ever before.
"This is the Planet you live on; it's still Earth."
"Right."
"It's simpler than I expected, but very interesting."
The Shadow King stared at the Mutants who couldn't see them, yet kept praising Ohm Messiah.
"They're worshipping you... you're Mutants too?"
I am indeed a Mutants.
"You made them worship this?"
"I didn't allow it; they wanted to worship themselves."
The Shadow King sensed the return of the gods to Earth.
It seems some gods are quite unhappy with your monopolization of Faith.
Russell narrowed his eyes.
Next to that building in Manhattan surrounded by portraits and flowers, a golden Temple is rising out of nowhere.