"Oh my God… what is that thing?"
April's voice trembled despite herself, the shock overwhelming even her usual fearless composure. Her eyes were locked on the scene unfolding before her, unable to look away even for a second.
Under her gaze, a streak of fire suddenly ignited.
It wasn't ordinary flame.
It flowed like liquid, spreading outward in waves before erupting into a vast, terrifying sea of molten fire. The heat that radiated from it felt suffocating even from a distance, as though it could melt steel, stone, and flesh alike without resistance.
And within that raging inferno…
That man stood.
He looked like something out of myth, like a banished immortal who had fallen from the heavens yet still carried divine authority in every movement. His figure was calm, composed, untouched by the chaos around him, but the power erupting from his body told a completely different story.
A blood-red phantom began to take shape behind him.
It roared.
The sound was violent, primal, filled with destruction and madness. The form sharpened quickly, revealing the unmistakable outline of a Qilin, its body wrapped in fire, its eyes burning with boundless killing intent.
This wasn't a divine guardian.
This was a monster born to slaughter.
The aura that poured from it was suffocating, layered with chaos and bloodlust so thick it felt like a physical force pressing down on everything nearby. It was the kind of presence that didn't just threaten—it promised annihilation.
This was the Mad Qilin.
Back when Locke first stepped into the world as a rising force, this power had been his foundation. The Mad Qilin Blood had defined him, shaped him, driven him forward through countless battles. And now, after his ascension, that same power had been reignited under the stimulation of the Xuanwu True Skill, transforming into something even more terrifying.
The original Qilin had been a sacred beast, a symbol of protection and balance, guarding the very veins of the world.
But this one?
It was the complete opposite.
Its blood carried endless killing intent, a hunger for destruction that twisted its very nature into something monstrous. As its phantom circled Locke, it painted him in a far darker light, making him look less like a god and more like a demon that had clawed its way out of hell itself.
Someone who held a blade.
Someone who intended to use it.
The Qilin roared again, its head lifting toward the sky as if declaring its dominance over everything in existence.
And then—
"Splash!"
Locke moved.
He didn't need to shout or exert himself. He simply lifted his hand and formed it into a blade, and the moment he did, an unstoppable demonic intent surged outward. It cut through the air, through the flames, through the very presence of the Qilin itself.
The effect was immediate.
The Mad Qilin, which had just been roaring with savage arrogance, suddenly quieted.
It lowered its head.
Then, incredibly, it leaned in and rubbed gently against Locke's hand, its massive form shrinking in presence as if it had become nothing more than a loyal pet seeking approval. The transformation was so drastic it almost felt absurd, like watching a feral beast turn into an obedient dog in the span of a heartbeat.
But that illusion shattered the moment its gaze shifted.
Its eyes swept across the surroundings, and the killing intent inside them flared again, sharp and aggressive, like a wild creature ready to tear apart anything that dared approach.
It wasn't docile.
It was restrained.
And that made it even more dangerous.
April felt a chill run straight down her spine.
For the first time since she arrived, genuine fear took hold of her. Her face paled, and her body stiffened as an instinctive warning screamed in her mind. One wrong move, one wrong step, and she had no doubt she would die instantly.
"How… how is this possible…?" she whispered.
Far away, through the final fragments of the feed before the screen went dark, Nick Fury saw it too.
He saw the man standing beneath that terrifying manifestation.
And recognition hit him like a hammer.
"Impossible…" he muttered.
The Bloodhand Butcher.
Locke.
The realization struck him harder than anything else that had happened so far. This wasn't some unknown threat, some alien force or hidden god.
This was someone he knew.
Someone he had dismissed.
Someone he had pushed away.
The weight of that mistake settled heavily on his shoulders, and for a moment, Fury's expression twisted with something dangerously close to regret. If he had known Locke possessed this level of power, would he have ever made the same choices?
Would he have still chosen Iron Man over him?
The answer was obvious.
He had traded a mountain for a pebble.
And now he was paying for it.
The Avengers had already fallen apart.
Iron Man was crippled.
Black Widow and Hawkeye had lost their dignity.
Even Captain Steve, the symbol of unwavering justice, had seen his reputation crumble under the weight of reality. Years of trust, years of admiration—it had all been eroded in a matter of days.
If not for Fury's desperate attempts to control the narrative, to coordinate with the media and maintain some illusion of order, the Avengers would have already collapsed completely.
And meanwhile…
Locke had risen.
Since leaving S.H.I.E.L.D., he hadn't declined.
He had flourished.
His influence had grown, his actions had gained public approval, and now his true strength had been revealed for everyone to see. The Xuanwu manifestation. The divine tree. The Mad Qilin.
None of it was ordinary.
None of it could be ignored.
Fury gripped his bracelet tightly, his knuckles whitening as a bitter emotion rose in his chest.
Jealousy.
…
Footsteps echoed across the ground.
A large group approached, scattered but moving with purpose. The sound of sneakers and high heels striking the pavement blended together into a chaotic rhythm as reporters and photographers rushed forward from every direction.
They had abandoned the press conference.
They had followed the story.
And now they were here.
The moment they reached the riverbank, they broke into a run, their fear of the unknown clashing against their hunger for discovery. They knew the risks. They understood the danger.
But the promise of something extraordinary—something that could define their careers—pushed them forward.
Money.
Fame.
Truth.
Whatever name it went by, it drove them all the same.
Above them, the Xuanwu roared again.
Its breath came out in heavy clouds, each exhale carrying the weight of a storm, as if the heavens themselves were reacting to its presence. Beneath that immense shadow, the flames surged once more, and within those flames, the full form of the Mad Qilin finally revealed itself.
It stood there, massive and imposing.
But it was no longer wild.
It had been subdued.
Inside Locke, another presence stirred.
The Nine-Tailed Fox watched everything with wide eyes, its usual arrogance completely gone. It had never expected its new master to possess strength on this level.
"Even the Sage of Six Paths…" it muttered softly.
Then it retreated.
Silently.
As long as it didn't cause trouble, it would be fine. It would behave. It would stay quiet.
It was, after all, a very obedient fox now.
…
After pushing through every obstacle, April finally reached the center of it all.
She stood there, staring directly at Locke.
Her expression shifted constantly—shock, excitement, disbelief—all blending together as her emotions struggled to keep up with what she was witnessing. Her voice caught in her throat, and when she finally spoke, it came out uneven and breathless.
"I… I love you, Butcher," she said. "You're a god among men!"
Locke raised an eyebrow slightly, then shrugged.
"I'd rather you call me the Bloody Butcher," he said casually. "That version of me is a bit more fun."
His tone was relaxed, almost playful.
But behind him, the Mad Qilin roared again, its fiery presence reinforcing every word without needing explanation. It stood like a loyal guardian, a beast bound by blood and will, its madness kept in check only by the man in front of it.
April's face flushed.
Her excitement didn't fade. If anything, it intensified.
She looked at him like someone staring at a living legend, someone who had stepped beyond the limits of humanity and into something far greater. The fear was still there, buried beneath everything else, but it no longer mattered.
Even if he killed her with a single gesture…
Would she really regret seeing this?
Would anyone?
It felt like standing in front of Superman himself, witnessing something so extraordinary that it made everything else seem insignificant.
The thrill alone was enough.
…
Several days later.
The news of the Bloody Butcher spread across New York City like wildfire, igniting a wave of public reaction that only grew louder with time. Conversations erupted everywhere, from crowded streets to quiet homes, and what began as shock quickly turned into something much bigger.
An unprecedented storm of attention had begun.
.....
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