In the Marvel Multiverse, the Astral Plane varies from universe to universe. At least, some of the universes shown have a different role for the Astral Plane, so if you know something, you can read it at your discretion.
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[Day one: Reward – Minor Healing Factor.]
[Day seven: Reward – Shunpo.]
[Day twenty-one: Reward – A cursed sword forged by Surtur himself.]
[Day fifty: Reward – Capsule Corp Capsules.]
[Day one hundred: Reward – Super Soldier Serum.]
[Day two hundred: Reward – Hito Hito no Mi.]
This list? Yeah, this could easily be mistaken for a gamer's fantasy wishlist or the scribbled dreams of a delusional power-trip junkie. But for me, it's just... well, Tuesday. Or at least, what passes for Tuesday in a place where time doesn't exactly follow conventional rules.
Call it a resume.
Call it a reward log.
Call it the journal of an overpowered, half-insane exile stuck in limbo with powers I didn't ask for and memories I probably shouldn't have.
Whatever you call it, this is what I've got.
And despite the absurdity, not all of them are useless.
Take Shunpo, for example. That little gem was a blessing. A high-speed movement technique used by Shinigami in the Bleach universe.
When I first saw it pop up as a reward on Day Seven, I laughed. I thought, "Sure, why not toss in some anime flash step nonsense into this whole mess?"
But boredom has a way of turning mockery into curiosity, and curiosity, combined with five millennia of accumulated knowledge makes for a terrifying learning curve.
You could say I mastered it at a glance. And maybe that's not entirely arrogance. With my unique constitution and affinity for soul manipulation, it didn't even feel like learning, just naturally did it crossing 50 meters easily.
Now? I can cross three to five kilometers in a single step. No flash, no roar, no explosive boom. Just silence, like the grim reaper walking across the battlefield.
Tch. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I dropped into the Bleach verse just for the hell of it. Imagine the look on their faces—Yoruichi, Byakuya, even that smug bastard Urahara—as I blurred past them with a Shunpo that defied even their physics.
Heh.
I can already hear the collective "NANI?!"
But I digress. Imagination's running wild again. It happens more frequently these days. Solitude does that to you. Especially when your only companion is a mute kid with big eyes and the emotional range of a rock.
Today's reward, though? Astral Projection.
It made me pause.
Yeah, that Astral Projection. The same one the Ancient One used on Strange and Banner in the MCU. The same technique that let sorcerers separate their consciousness from their physical form and walk among the layers of the unseen world.
At first, I thought it was cool. Then I thought it was useless. Then, I dug into Hela's memories—and that's when things got interesting.
You see, Hela, the original one—not me—was never the meditative type. She was a weapon forged for war, not peace. A blade sharpened to slay Odin's enemies. She didn't have the luxury to sit under cherry blossom trees and contemplate the meaning of existence.
But somewhere deep in her memories, probably tucked behind the endless bloodshed and carnage, was a faint recollection of the Astral Plane. Not remembering if she heard it from a long-dead sorcerer or someone she killed.
It's a realm where physical matter doesn't exist in the traditional sense. A plane of consciousness. A mirror world where the mind is unshackled from flesh.
That's when the gears in my head started turning.
"If the Astral Plane exists as an independent dimension not bound by the rules of the physical world..." I murmured to myself, "...then could it act as a gateway? A bridge between realms?"
I glanced at Rocky.
He's a kid.
A weird, silent kid who showed up one day and just... stayed. Doesn't talk. Doesn't eat. Doesn't blink. I named him Rocky because I have a wicked sense of irony and a deep appreciation for absurd humor and not because he is a rock.
"Well? What do you think, Rocky?"
"(•_•)"
Of course. Same expression. Same silence. (PS: Just her imagination, maybe?)
"Tsk. You think you're being cool with that brooding vibe, huh? Trust me, kid, it doesn't work. Not on me. And for the record—I don't like men. Let alone children. You're not my type."
Nothing.
I sighed and let it go. Rocky wasn't going to laugh at my jokes. Wasn't going to throw back a sarcastic jab. Honestly, he wasn't even breathing, but I've learned not to question things here.
Instead, I sat down on the edge of the jagged cliff that overlooked a void of swirling, cosmic nothingness. A fitting metaphor for my existence.
And then, I began to seriously consider the implications.
The Astral Plane doesn't function like our world. It's not defined by time or space as we know it. Distance is malleable. Time is subjective. In some stories, entire journeys through the Astral Plane pass in what amounts to a blink in the physical world.
I remember that scene, was it in the comics or in the movies? Strange's consciousness yanked out of his body, flung through dimensions, all while his tea was still hot when he returned.
"Oh yeah, finally a f*cking good rewards, if I can go to Earth even if it's with my Astral Body whom I can't directly interfere with the physical world, I can at least watch many interesting."
"I could even be like the ring grandpa in Chinese cultivation novel guiding juniors like Wanda who should be able to see Astral Body and make them use the Space Gem to freed me, gigidi gigidi."
I was really happy gaining something that could help me escape, still, I hope it's not like the cursed sword from Day Twenty-One.
Oh, Surtur. You flaming moron. For a guy who's supposed to forge world-ending weapons, you really dropped the ball with this one. The sword looks cool at a glance—blackened metal, runes, a faint hellfire glow. Very edgy. Very "I'm definitely compensating for something." But functionally? It's about as sharp as a butter knife after a long bath.
Seriously. I tried to slice through a training dummy (created from one of the Capsule Corp pods, thank you very much), and the blade bounced off.
I'm 90% sure Surtur was drunk when he made it.
Or maybe hungover. Or both.
But hey—it makes for a good back scratcher.
After cursing Surtur, I clicked on the rewards and instantly, a flood of memories emerged in my mind about how one can leave the Astral Body state, how to enter the Astral Plane, how to leave the Astral Plane, how to return to the body, how to use one's own power in the Astral Body, and many more, information about the Astral Plane, etc.
Well, after these revelations, I even understand why the original Hela didn't know how to do it. The Astral Plane was simply a place where one goes if they need to find peace—how could the goddess of death need peace?
Still, I couldn't help but have a wild imagination. Hela with her bald head, robes flowing, sipping tea with the Ancient One.
"Peace and love, brother," she'd say.
I'd pay to see that crossover that would make Odin doubt his whole existence.
Anyway, she can't but I can, I was dumped into this realm and expected to rot here like a prisoner with powers but no purpose, at least until Odin's death. So if this Astral Projection lets me peek at the real world—even just for a second—I'm going to make the most of it.
So, I immediately started trying like with the information in my head and God, it was... strange. And beautiful, huh, forget I'm a Goddess myself, should change my way of speaking.
I was focused, sitting cross-legged, levitating in the air.
I closed my eyes, centered my breathing, and followed the instructions that came with the reward—vague, mystical nonsense about "letting go of the weight of the world."
Didn't have much weight left anyway.
And then—
I was out.
My body slumped gently, still and calm.
And I floated upward.
Weightless.
Untethered.
Free.
.....
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