🚨🚨🚨Read my new story Peter Parker: To Think is To Choose.✅✅✅
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"Power is never louder than when it breaks silence."
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The rain hadn't even stopped when Maya's wrist computer began to shriek.
Lines of script scrolled across her visor — energy readings off every chart she had.
"Maya?" Nika asked, already on edge.
Her helmet locked into place, six eyes glowing pink.
"There's… something," Maya muttered. "An invisible current. It's moving fast — like a stream."
Suren stiffened. His body shook once, then collapsed into Nika's arms.
"Suren!" She yelled, holding him upright.
His eyes glowed with molten gold as he choked out words that weren't his:
"He's feeding on them… all of them."
Damian's jaw tightened. "Where?"
Soren pointed weakly toward the northeast — trembling fingers carving a direction in the air.
"Tunguska." Maya confirmed grimly, reading her display. "Of course it's Russia. It's always Russia."
The Trail of Ghosts
King had left Goliath waiting outside before their meal — massive wings folded, like a patient mountain with fluffy red fur and yellow eyes. The dragon-bat snorted as they approached and Damian climbed aboard, pulling the others after him.
"Let's go." He said simply.
Goliath leapt into the night sky. The air cracked open beneath his wings, storm clouds parting as if afraid to touch them. Below, continents blurred.
Hours became minutes.
Then — Tunguska.
A wound in the earth, endless and smoking. Lightning crawled across the sky like a heartbeat trying to restart.
Soren stirred as they landed, eyes glowing faintly again. He stepped forward, placing his hand over the ground.
Ancient runes flared — red, angry. A circle opened beneath them, revealing a staircase spiraling into darkness.
"My father's temple." Soren whispered. "It's waiting."
The Serpent's Heart
They descended. The air grew thick, heavy with burnt incense and regret.
At the bottom stood Den Darga — tall, draped in molten robes, his body half-shadow and half-flesh.
Before him rose an altar made of stone serpents — each one coiled around a glowing ruby heart.
Ghostly faces screamed silently from within the gem.
"Father," Soren breathed. "What have you done?"
Den Darga turned slowly, smiling — proud and monstrous.
"What I must. You were my greatest creation, my son. And now you will finish what I began."
He raised his hand — the serpents hissed, the ruby pulsing like a living heart. Energy threads began draining from Soren's body into the artifact.
"NO!" Damian shouted, lunging forward with his blade. Maya's sonic blasters flashed, Nika's knives sliced through the air — the three struck as one, breaking Den Darga's focus.
The ruby dimmed. The ghosts within screamed in confusion.
Soren fell to his knees, gasping, then glared up at his father. "You're using me!"
"Power demands sacrifice!" Den Darga bellowed.
Soren's eyes ignited — twin suns. He thrust out both hands, sending a surge of fire through the chamber.
It struck Den Darga full in the chest, scorching his arm. The ancient sorcerer howled — but smiled through the pain.
"Good, my son. You finally fight like me."
Before anyone could move, he slammed his other hand down — a spike of raw, red light erupted from the ruby and pierced straight through Damian's chest.
"DAMIAN!!!" Nika screamed.
The boy's body hit the ground, limp. His sword clattered beside him, echoing in the vast chamber.
Nika, Maya, and Soren dropped beside him, trying to shake him awake — their faces streaked with ash and tears.
"Don't you dare—" Maya's voice cracked. "Don't you dare die now!"
The ruby pulsed again — brighter, stronger. The air vibrated like a thousand wings.
Then… everything stopped.
The Return of King
A sound rumbled through the world — not thunder, not quake — something far more powerful.
The King Engine roared.
The lava in the veins of the earth boiled upward. The serpents froze mid-hiss.
Reality bent, light fractured and out of the molten shadows, he walked.
King. Barefoot. Unburned. The magma parted around him like an obedient tide.
His gaze was calm and utterly merciless.
He looked down at Damian's fallen form and the soul — faint and flickering — hovering above the boy's chest.
"Not yet." King said softly.
He reached forward, grasping Damian's soul as if plucking a candle flame and pressed it gently back into his body.
The boy gasped — breath returned, lungs burned, wounds healed.
Nika sobbed out a laugh. "You crazy cosmic bastard…"
King straightened, turned to Den Darga and without ceremony, picked up a pebble.
He flicked it.
The pebble left his fingers and became a line of light.
When it struck Den Darga and his artifact, there was no explosion — just silence.
Then, the world tore.
The Tunguska crater collapsed in on itself — reborn as a canyon.
The temple disintegrated, the ruby cracked, the serpents turned to dust.
Den Darga was gone.
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When the dust settled, only King, Goliath and the four of them remained standing.
The crater wind howled over the wreckage, carrying nothing but the smell of ozone and scorched earth.
King looked over them — the children, the broken, the redeemed.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Lesson learned." He said. "Let's go home."
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