New Star In Marvel Chapter 173 173: Swallowing the Earth? K-Level Doomsday Scen

The chat in the live stream went quiet for a heartbeat as the huge creature shifted. Many viewers thought Jas had pushed it too far with his test. Everyone braced for a violent reaction.

Instead, the monster spoke in a low, strange voice: "No need."

Jas didn't move. He just held the pen in his hand.

The creature—the Foundation's SCP-500 "Glutton"—did nothing more than open and close its mouth once, almost lazily.

And then it happened.

The pen cap vanished.

No lunge. No snap of teeth. No rushing wind. One second it was on the pen; the next it was gone. Jas stared at the bare pen barrel. The restraining device around the Glutton, which had tensed for a mont, eased back to normal.

It all took less than a blink.

The live chat exploded.

"Did it just eat from a distance?"

"It didn't even touch it!"

"What kind of power is that?!"

At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One leaned in, eyes wide. "It simply… disappeared." She had not missed anything. There was no trick. No spell she recognized. The cap had been removed from the world.

Back at S.H.I.E.L.D., agents talked over one another while the Director watched in silence. Nick Fury didn't care about a pen cap. He cared about how it had been taken. He ran the possibilities in his head with a soldier's focus:

If the Glutton can devour from a distance…

How far?

How large?

Only physical things—or things you can't touch?

A word from the earlier file tugged at his mory. "Normal." It had sounded harmless then. Now it felt like a trap. Fury's eye darkened, and a quiet fear crept into his gut.

In the cavern, Jas kept his voice calm. "So this is your strength."

The Glutton's bound body sank slightly, almost pleased. "This is where my power lies."

Jas's eyes narrowed. "If you can eat what you don't touch, can you eat soone thousands of miles away?"

The answer ca without hesitation. "I can."

Shock rippled across the world. Viewers forgot to breathe. Scientists in their labs froze. Soldiers in black sites leaned closer to their monitors. Heroes and villains alike turned up the volu.

"That's not a weapon—it's a strategic event," soone typed.

Jas didn't smile, but there was a spark behind his eyes. "This ability is dangerous… and valuable."

The chat broke into two camps at once—half horrified, half understanding exactly what he ant. A power that could reach across continents and remove a target from reality was the perfect sniper shot. No angle. No line of sight. No trail.

Fury felt the sa thought ignite in his mind. This could change wars. It could prevent them—or end them before they began. It could also unmake governnts with a whisper. His gaze, hot now, pinned the screen.

On cara, the Glutton went on, voice echoing through the stone. "The one who locked here restrained my power and hid this chamber's location. He wanted to punish . He also wanted to use —to make eat his worst enemies. When he died and his dynasty fell, others found this place."

It paused, then added with a tired tone, "For thousands of years they ca, just like you. They were not like him. None of them were saints. All of them asked to eat things."

A long, ragged sigh shook its vast fra. "…I agreed. To all of it."

The viewers finally understood. This was why the Foundation had surrounded the site with a small army and layered the approach in seals and locks. The danger wasn't only the beast. The danger was everyone who might try to use it.

Fury's heat cooled into steel. He heard the warning hidden in the Glutton's history. This power cut both ways. Used well, it could remove terror leaders, neutralize world-ending threats, and save cities. Used poorly, it would serve greed. It would beco the hand of any tyrant who reached it first.

Greed. The word returned to him again, flashing like a sign.

Jas continued, voice steady. "Why did you agree to their requests?"

"If I refused, they beat with this chain." The Glutton lifted one massive limb; the red links binding it rattled. "It hurts. After my jailer died, I grew old. I could not endure the pain."

Jas studied the restraints. They looked like living sinew—red and bright, with a slow pulse. They were wrong in a way that made the skin crawl.

"If you can eat anything," Jas asked softly, "why not eat the chain?"

The answer dropped like stone. "It was made from my mother's bones and blood."

Silence fell across the world. Even the scrolling chat slowed. Many had wondered who had imprisoned such a being. They had not expected this: a jail tied to the origin of its life.

Jas took that in, then asked, "You could have taken revenge on those who used the chain against you. Why didn't you?"

"To hold and use better, my jailer wrote spells into this place," the Glutton said. "When anyone enters, a mark is carved onto their heart. I can do nothing that harms the one who bears that mark."

Jas frowned. "Nothing harmful… including eating the person standing before you."

He fell quiet, a thought clicking into place. "So that's how."

His gaze rose. "One more question. You have been trapped here for ages, and yet you speak so clearly. How can you talk to like this?"

Perhaps fearing the ward would punish it for secrets, the Glutton spoke quickly, almost eager to explain. "Before I was taken, I had a wife. We could not understand each other. She grew unhappy with , and we fought. So I ate the thing that blocked us—the concept that kept from speaking well with others. That is why I can communicate now."

Jas blinked. The live chat detonated.

"It can eat concepts."

"Not just matter."

"If it ate the idea of 'communication failure' from itself… what else can it eat?"

"What happens if it eats 'language'? Or 'trust'? Or 'law'?"

At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One's face went still. She had known the Glutton shared the sa bloodline as other terrible children of a higher god. But this was worse than she had guessed. To devour concepts was not just a power. It was a rewrite.

Far beyond Earth, in the realm of watchers, Uatu's eyes narrowed. He had seen cosmic tyrants, living abstractions, and the oldest predators among the stars. Many wore the universe like a cloak. But this—this was a single, simple function made limitless: eat. Eat anything.

On screen, even Jas let the revelation sit for a breath. "So your power doesn't stop at matter," he said quietly. "You can erase ideas—and when you do, the world changes."

He t the creature's hidden eyes. "SCP-500, if you're as greedy as the legends say, and your abilities go beyond those legends… tell . Have you ever wanted to eat the whole world?"

The live stream went silent again. The idea itself felt like ice water poured down the spine of humanity.

To devour a person was horror.

To devour a city was unthinkable.

To devour the world was the end of endings.

Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stared with dry mouths. Fury didn't move. He didn't blink. He waited for the answer as if the Earth depended on it—because it might.

The Glutton took a long ti to respond. When it spoke, there was a bitter laugh in its voice. "It is strange. At first, I did not know I could eat without end. I learned slowly. I ate what was around —animals, food, houses. Many grew angry."

Its body settled, chains drawing tight, and it spoke in a softer tone. "Then I learned I could eat what is invisible. I saw my mother working herself to the bone. I wished I could take away her burden. So I ate her hard work. It worked. She no longer needed to labor like the others. I didn't think about what that ant."

The chat faltered again as the implications sank in. If you remove "hard work," what is left of effort, of growth, of purpose? Who pays the price?

"After I was captured," the Glutton said, "my jailer did not know I could eat the invisible. He only brought enemies and ordered to eat them. When he died, others ca. They asked to eat things that were not only invisible but intangible—wishes, fears, bonds, promises. I tried, again and again. Each ti I found a new way I had not imagined. With every request I grew stronger in the doing."

It sighed, and the sound shook dust from the stalactites. "But I never wanted to eat the whole world. I was asked to eat sothing like a world once, and it made almost sick."

A slow wave of relief passed through so of the watchers—followed by a colder dread.

Sothing like a world. Not a town. Not a continent. A whole reality-sized thing.

Jas stood very still. "What did it do to you?"

"It was too much. Too wide. It pulled at from all sides at once. It had many nas, many rules, many anings. It tried to pull apart while I pulled it in. I did not finish. I could not finish."

Jas glanced toward the red chains again. The links pulsed, answering so ancient law. He looked back at the Glutton. "And your jailer? The saint you spoke of. Did he know you could eat concepts?"

"No," the Glutton said. "If he had known, he would have built the chains from sothing I could never na. But he did not. He used what he had—my mother—and a mark on the hearts of all who entered. It was enough."

Jas nodded once, the pieces clicking together. A contained god-child that can eat matter, energy, ideas, and perhaps… more. A chamber bound with blood and oath. A line of would-be masters, each with their own greed.

He spoke carefully. "If soone asked you to eat 'fear' from a city, could you?"

"I could try," the Glutton said. "But fear holds people together. It keeps them safe, too. Remove it, and they walk into fire."

"What about 'language'?"

"I could eat the idea of a tongue from a place, and those within would not understand each other. They would still make sounds. They would still try. But it would be noise."

The stream chat typed the sa word at once: Doomsday.

Jas breathed out. "If you were forced to eat 'gravity' from a region of the planet—"

The Glutton's throat rumbled with sothing like a warning. "Then your sky would fill with debris, your seas would lift, and your bodies would forget their weight. Planes would not fly; they would fail to fall. Your world would not end all at once. It would co apart in the air."

K-level scenarios flashed through Jas's mind like cards:

K-End (world consud),

K-Shift (world rewritten),

K-Mute (language erased),

K-Hollow (aning eaten).

He had co to test a theory. Now he stood face to face with a living key to a thousand doors—most of them marked Do Not Open.

He turned slightly, speaking for every watcher beyond the cave. "Listen carefully. The Glutton is not just a beast. It is a function. It eats. The target can be a thing, a person, or an idea. Range may be global. Side effects are unpredictable. Misuse equals catastrophe."

He faced the bound giant again. "One last test, then we stop." He held up the bare pen. "Can you return what you've eaten?"

The Glutton's answer was simple. "No. What is eaten is gone."

The chat froze. No rollbacks. No undo button. Every use was final.

Jas lowered the pen. For a long mont, he simply listened to the slow pulse of the red links and the distant drip of the cave. Then he said, quietly but clearly, "We are done for today."

The Glutton did not fight that. It only shifted to a more comfortable shape and closed the eye-marks beneath one arm. The chains humd, as if satisfied.

Jas turned toward the mbrane gate. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "If soone threatens you again, we will know. Do not accept requests from anyone except those who bear our seal. We will build a new protocol. It will protect you—and everyone else."

The Glutton gave a small sound that might have been agreent. Or maybe it was hunger.

Jas stepped through the pale film and back into the corridor. The feed held on the Glutton for two heartbeats more, then cut to static and the Foundation sigil.

Across the world, people began to talk all at once.

At S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury finally exhaled. "Get a draft. Joint oversight, multiple locks, three-key decisions. Include K-level decision trees. We treat this as if a god left a loaded device on our doorstep."

At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One closed her eyes and touched the edge of the table. "Greed made this. Greed fed this. Greed will co for it again. We will need more than wards."

High above the Earth, Uatu watched the blue planet turn. "One function," he murmured. "Endless outcos."

Back in the snowbound site, Director Victor Hale t Jas at the blast door, face tight. "How bad?"

Jas answered with plain words. "Bad if we're careless. Life-saving if we're wise."

They walked together toward the command room, boots echoing in the steel hall.

Behind them, deep in the mountain, the Embodint of Greed waited. It did not dream. It did not plan. It only did what it was made to do.

It ate.

And sowhere, far away, three separate alarms pinged red on Foundation consoles—three different cities reporting three different anomalies, each one with the sa chilling signature: sudden, localized absence.

K-level flags rose across the board—simultaneous alerts.

Sothing, sowhere, had just been eaten.

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