My 8d6 of bioelectricity went on top, and now, we’d be seeing if the Sunstone could contribute, too. We already knew magic could directly, as Dealer and I frequently dumped Valences of various aligned energies into the place, where they all swirled and separated into their own little clusters, waiting to be called upon.

Ace reached down and changed the direction of the currents coming out of the Sunstone. The tool was already modular, fully capable of changing what it was focusing most of its power into, but directing it into a spiritual link to the Underweb was likely something never tried before.

That said, I also knew that it stored psychic copies of its previous wielders who had died wearing it, so it definitely had some affinity to such things.

On top of that, Sunstone was me, 17 Ranks of Spellcraft, 40 Int when it was cold, Concentration score to the moon, and the Underweb was made to be woven and played around with.

Pulling on it could be catastrophic if you were dumb, but just dumping tiny little streams of energy along it to someplace where nothing was happening?

The body-wide enhancements all pulled back as all of the energy of the Sunstone fell into the shadow of the Web pattern that made us all Web Casters instead of true Sorcerers, and zipped away.

I cracked open a look inside the Space, and saw a star bloom there. The light coming in didn’t fade or scatter, instead growing thicker and more viscous as more of it arrived, and it began to accumulate.

-We have a go on feed three!- I /reported happily.

I could probably tap the power there, but it was meant for Ace, not me. When she tied off her Lightning Reserve, it would naturally dump into the mixed electrical pool that was by far the largest of the energy reserves here, dominated by my own contributions. Technically both Dealer and Ace could both probably draw on it, but it would feel unwieldy at best to them.

Seeing the amount of Sunstone energy coming in, I had a feeling my Lightning reserve pool was going to get overshadowed pretty quickly.

The mana pool was meant as a power reserve for big Ritual spells if needed, not a combat store. The Sunstone pool, however, was meant for instant access and return.

Sure, the plain blast of the Sunstone was strong, but not domineering, something like a quick zap of Summers’ red beam before he did any amping up.

But what happened when you could unleash a full minute of the Sunstone’s power, all at once?

An hour? A day? A month, or more? Just how much energy was it?

The answer was... a whole lot. But it also meant conserving that energy whenever possible by using alternate energy sources for other stuff. Like using Lightning Reserve to power a meshweave suit to distract attention from where the real threat and danger was, for instance.

Hey, I was on the team who’d made stuff to monitor Galactus. I had all sorts of supergenius contacts of my own now, not just through Richards. I was also completely capable of interpreting tons of very weird shit and bringing it all together in ways and means that made sense, even if we couldn’t replicate the energies themselves without a lot of work.

------

The High Guard had washed the entire area in Antarctica down with vivic fire before departing, ensuring that all the crazy residual energies left behind were now quite gone, and everything was back to normal there. The research data had been fully shared between all parties involved, and everyone had gone home, including Hawkeye, who had stared unblinking at the whole tableau from start to finish, and promptly dropped unconscious when Galactus had left.

Hercules had carried him home after a friendly exchange of fisticuffs with Mr. Hill, as they were frequent sparring partners, the Olympian complimenting The Mountain on the improved power and efficacy of his Piston Punches. Of course, the other three gods had all wanted a shot at him after Hercules calmly dealt with his punches, and to their amazement, without their weapons, Mr. Hill had manhandled them badly.

Mr. Hill’s Level had risen sharply after associating with me, mostly because I kept telling him to improve himself. He’d been keeping himself busy, too, with both merc work and his businesses, and the occasional popping off to wherever the Land wanted to send him to deal with something.

He had the full Heavy Hand Mastery down now, which required you to be a Ten. He’d seen the effect his improved unarmed combat skills could have on a fight, and how using his strength in different ways was often more useful than just bashing on an enemy. While he wasn’t sitting at the Twenty a full Demigod was in terms of combat experience, Mr. Hill was a solid Twelve, his use of Earthpower was improving nicely, and he was definitely one of the best pugilists on the planet, totally capable of dominating Thor, Perrun, and Tchernoborg, who were all weapon wielders and not specialists in fisticuffs, although they were all decent wrestlers.

Of course, getting into a wrestling match with a god of Strength was like the definition of foolishness, and done only for instructional purposes.

I was totally amazed how different this Hercules was than the one commonly depicted in the comics, and could only guess that Sama and Briggs had beaten the heck out of him more than once, showing him the limitations of his godly power. But he was not a god and restricted to what he was, he was a DEMI-god, half-human, and that portion of himself was fully capable of growing and becoming something more.

Sama had basically demanded it of him, and it showed. He didn’t just have the strength, he was a grandmaster at using it. His Shield of Hands was literally impossible for Mr. Hill to bypass, and easily handled every punch thrown at him in whatever combination, sliding into every gap left in one’s defense with a brutal precision that was exactly as overwhelming as he wanted it to be.

I could see the shadows of the Seven Dragons in Hercules’ style, but obviously profound styles weren’t his strength, and he mostly fell back on his base +20 Attack Bonus, lots of specialization in unarmed combat, and tons and tons of experience fighting superhuman opponents of all kinds. From a build standpoint, he was a Melee Main with the Feats to support his brawling nature up the kazoo, sure enough.

People tended to forget that he was also a classic Greek Warrior Prince and King, and so trained in all the classic Greek Weapons, including the bow, and was considered one of the greatest archers of ancient Greece. He was happy to let them forget about it until he pulled out his Golden Bow and launched shots at them from over a mile away...

From a combat standpoint, Hercules’ biggest weakness was that he wasn’t as tough as he was strong. While he could match the damage output of anyone, there were plenty of beings out there who could match and beat him for durability. Hell, Mr. Hill was probably harder to hurt than Hercules was, all things considered.

It was also why, in the normal Marvel universe, the Hulk could take on Hercules without much trouble. Herc could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it, and would get pounded down in a contest of brawn there, and so went his position as a true first-rate God and Champion of Mortals, beaten down by a big green rage monster.

If they were to fight here on Terra, things would be very different.

One, this Hercules knew how to fight, and he held himself and acted like a kingly warrior, instructor, and battle captain. He knew how to analyze opponents, devise tactics, and work with others, all the while making a big and boisterous distraction of himself delivering the Gift of Combat.

His Shield of Hands and Dirty Boxing were also exemplary. Fighting strong opponents, he simply blocked them repeatedly with his hands and elbows, swinging into their blows, cancelling strength with strength, and then using superior skill to get in his own attacks.

Thor seemed the most impressed with this new Hercules. Naturally they had met in the past, compared their prowess, and Thor’s command of the storm would have given him an edge, in the end.

Against this new Hercules, who walked among mortals, worked with mortals, and improved himself with mortals? Not so much.

Which got me thinking about other things.

I had been very tempted to reveal myself to Sama and Briggs and hopefully be brought in on whatever their nefarious schemes were. But I had ultimately recognized that I was superfluous to whatever they had planned, and it was probably better for me to position myself as a worthwhile ally with all that yummy Eternal Upside Potential than another pawn, minion, or henchman on their quest to save the world and more.

They had a century and some of a head start on me here, complete with knowledge of what had been coming. Of course they were far, far ahead... and of course they had changed the world, because why would they not?

I mean, if all things went well, I could enjoy a pretty decent life here, help humanity along to the next stage of development, go into space eventually, explore other dimensions, and generally do the fun stuff high-Level people can enjoy, while foisting off the job of being at the top onto them.

The only way I could change things my way would be to step up my profile and actually walk onto the big stage.

Which I could totally do. A Web Sorcerer with the Sunstone on top of all the other stuff? And my Levels weren’t going down, only up. I was the spiritual heir of Morgan le Fey. I could Cast IX’s now.

I could make more than one of me.

I could totally play in the big leagues. But, you know, I didn’t want to. Just being known for my brains was enough for me to have contacts at the higher Levels, I didn’t actually need to be a play caller or mover.

Which was totally cool with me. Last thing I needed was to start conveying political messages.

If the Widow of the Web wanted me for something, She could either inform me or blatantly draft me into doing something about it. In light of whatever scheme She had in mind, having long-term complex plans of my own were not of much importance.

So, bouncing back between street and height was fine by me...

=================

Time passes...

I sorta sighed.

Dr. Strange looked at me, also here as an observer. “See something amiss?” he asked archly.

“No. Just musing to myself that he could only understand half my dimensional thesis, and it was still enough for Dr. Richards to complete this thing.”

“He is an extraordinarily intelligent man, if somewhat focused. He would have made a fine mystic, but he has no harmony for the craft, outside those minor masteries of his own abilities,” Strange agreed with me.

“How’s it looking, Ben?” Reed piped up, going over last-minute modulations, not hearing us.

The completely-human-looking Ben Grimm called back, “Everything’s solid, Stretch. We’re good ta go!”