70: Critical Point
"Need another mint?" Daniel asked the still-shaky teenager beside him, after ending the call he'd been focused on for the past few minutes.
The response was a short, slow nod. With a light sigh, Daniel opened one of the pouches on his utility belt and pulled out two small transparent packets, which he then offered kindly.
"You always carry mints with you?" Spider-Man asked with dull curiosity before taking them, unwrapping them, and popping them into his mouth. His tense shoulders relaxed slightly as the freshness once again flooded his palate.
"Hey, you never know when you'll need them," Daniel replied, trying to lift the mood and distract him—though with little success. Even if his eyes were hidden behind the old pilot goggles he wore over his mask, it was clear the young vigilante's attention kept drifting back to the pile of headless corpses just a few meters away.
'He's still in shock,' Daniel thought—not that he expected anything different. Even for him, seeing others die still made him feel uncomfortable in many ways, even more so when those deaths were horrifying and unnecessary.
'Why do it?' he wondered, not for the first time.
Those men weren't super soldiers, and their rank within the Ten Rings hierarchy couldn't have been very high. Even if they'd been interrogated and somehow managed to spill some information, it was doubtful anything they revealed would've been important enough to justify their deaths.
So why kill them? Why sacrifice them like this? And why wait until they arrived, instead of doing it earlier—when the men were first captured, or when they were left tied up and alone?
Was it their own choice? When they realized they couldn't escape, did they choose to die collectively rather than betray their organization? Or was it all orchestrated by someone else—something done deliberately to send a message?
'I'm overthinking this,' he frowned.
At this point, asking so many questions was pointless. Besides, he didn't know why he was so surprised by this when the Ten Rings had long since made it clear they didn't care about human lives—including those of their own men.
"There's no trace of any explosive device—hell! there's no trace of anything that could've caused this!" Tony growled, stepping away from the corpses he'd been examining with the help of his suit's scanners and drawing everyone's attention.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Daniel approached the man, as did Matt, who had been crouched next to another group of bodies, examining them on his own.
Despite pushing his super senses to the limit, the vigilante hadn't been able to find any clue about the cause of death either.
"Maybe the forensics team will find something later," Daniel said, though neither of them looked convinced by that—not that it was surprising. If they hadn't been able to find anything, the odds of someone else doing so were, without a doubt, slim.
"If there are no traces of bombs or anything like that, could it have something to do with that 'Chi' thing?" Surprisingly, it was Peter who spoke.
The teenager, who until then had been keeping his distance, began to approach slowly, hesitating for a second when his foot stepped into some of the bloody remains scattered across the floor, before moving forward and stopping beside them.
"You might be right. The woman mentioned something about that during their fight, didn't she? Given the obviously Asian roots of the Ten Rings, maybe some of those old tales about chi in ancient Asia have some truth to them," Daniel agreed, not dismissing the idea.
Certainly, an ancient mystical energy with unknown capabilities might be able to kill others without leaving any evidence. Or perhaps it did leave evidence—just in a form that only someone who had mastered this 'Chi' could detect.
Nothing they could use right now, but definitely something to keep in mind for their future encounters with the organization. If super soldiers were already a problem, super soldiers capable of using Chi would make this conflict escalate to levels far too dangerous for his liking.
Depending on how many of them were among their ranks and how much the mystical power enhanced their already extraordinary abilities, taking down the Ten Rings was going to be a major pain in the ass. He could already see it—and just thinking about it made a sharp pain threaten to settle in his temples.
Why couldn't his enemies be like the ones in those animated shows for kids?
For his part, Tony clicked his tongue and shook his head at the mention of Chi.
Even if his capacity for disbelief had been tested more than once since he was kidnapped, the billionaire was still a man of science, with a firm worldview about how the world and the universe should work—and within that worldview, 'illogical' things like magic or Chi certainly didn't belong.
Naturally, hearing Daniel treat it as a real possibility triggered his more skeptical side.
He was about to make a sarcastic remark but managed to hold back… with great effort. Even if the mere idea sounded absurd to him, he knew there was no point in arguing when he had no way to disprove it entirely.
Honestly, Tony still couldn't understand how his spandex-clad friend—someone he considered just as well-versed in science as himself—could have such ridiculous ideas.
"Whatever the case, we've got no more leads to follow. Once again, we're back to sitting around waiting for those idiots to poke their heads out again," Tony complained, visibly annoyed. Passivity wasn't his thing, and having to wait while his enemies schemed in the shadows was deeply frustrating to him.
"That's not true. Remember why they decided to attack me in the first place," Matt interjected, prompting Tony to quickly recall their earlier conversation.
"You mean that other group you fought?"
Matt nodded. "One way or another, the Hand has a connection to the Ten Rings. And even though I managed to drive most of them out of the city, I know there are still a few stragglers trying to cover their tracks. If we find them, we might be able to get more information."
It wasn't exactly a giant glowing arrow pointing straight at the Ten Rings' main base, but given the circumstances, Tony couldn't afford to be picky.
"I like you better already," he said, giving him a smile—though thanks to his armor's helmet, no one noticed.
"We can talk more about it later. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents I called are about to arrive; let's clear the area so they can clean up this mess," Daniel said, already hearing the sound of approaching vehicles.
The mention of S.H.I.E.L.D. visibly perked up both Matt and Peter. Before tonight, neither of them had known much about the international security agency, since the organization's existence was still a matter kept secret from the general public.
Peter, in particular, had been completely unaware that they even existed, while Matt—though he knew a bit more than the other vigilante thanks to the whole Killer Croc incident—still had plenty of gaps in his knowledge about them, since Daniel hadn't been able to tell him much that day, and he hadn't bothered to ask as many questions as he probably should have.
Before making the call, Daniel had tried to give them a quick rundown so they wouldn't be caught off guard and would have an idea of what to expect—almost identical to the one he'd given Flash at the time, though not as detailed as he would've liked.
Matt had listened closely, and while Peter had been somewhat distracted by the shock from the deaths, Daniel trusted he would remember… or at least hoped so. Maybe he should go over it again later, just to be safe.
"All right, let's let the janitors clean up" Tony mocked but didn't argue further, and soon the four of them exited the warehouse—just in time to see the arrival of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, led by a familiar and charming redheaded lady.
Perhaps the greatest advantage of working with the international security agency was their immense capacity to handle and clean up the aftermath when things went horribly wrong. No need to involve the police, no paperwork, no time wasted on bureaucracy.
A single phone call was enough to mobilize an entire team of professionals who would make sure even the tiniest speck of blood vanished from the face of the Earth without a trace.
It was almost perfect—if not for the damned snakes hiding among them.
Another problem that needed solving, though in a much more clinical manner. The only reason Daniel hadn't started a witch hunt or warned Fury about Hydra was because S.H.I.E.L.D. was still necessary to deal with many issues he either couldn't or didn't have time to handle on his own.
But once his team of heroes was ready and trained, things would start to change.
Hydra wouldn't have enough heads once he started cutting them off.
"I'd say I'm glad to see you, but considering why I'm here, that doesn't sound very appropriate," Natasha said once she reached them, snapping Daniel out of his thoughts and prompting a small smile to form on his face.
"Sorry. Seems like we always run into each other when something problematic happens," he replied, a trace of fatigue in his voice. Then he turned to the two vigilantes and gestured politely toward the redhead.
"This is Natasha Romanoff, our liaison and direct contact with S.H.I.E.L.D.," he introduced her, and Matt was the first to step forward.
"Daredevil." If Natasha was at all puzzled by the use of a codename, it didn't show on her face.
'So this is the Hell's Kitchen vigilante,' she thought, casting a quick analytical glance at him that didn't reveal much more than what she already knew. Then her attention shifted to the other vigilante—one she knew even less about.
Peter, still somewhat numb, took a moment to realize it was his turn to introduce himself, but once he did, he quickly stepped forward and shook her hand.
"Spider…-Man?" he said, stumbling slightly over his words. It seemed that, despite everything that had happened, the presence of an attractive spy in a tight dark suit remained striking enough to catch the young Spider's attention, snapping him out of his stupor and bringing back some of his initial awkward expressiveness.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Natasha replied with a polite tone. Her expression showed no sign of disturbance in front of them, but for a fraction of a second, her eyes flickered toward Daniel with a faint glint of reproach that only he noticed.
Daniel frowned, not understanding why she had looked at him that way. However, almost immediately, the reason clicked, and he could only return a quick, apologetic glance while cursing himself inwardly for his oversight.
'I forgot to tell her they were here,' he thought, glancing sideways at Matt and Peter. When he called her, he hadn't bothered to provide all the details about the situation, limiting himself to what he believed was most important—namely, the more than a dozen headless corpses that needed to be 'cleaned up.'
Maybe doing that wouldn't have been such a big problem if Natasha were an ordinary person—but she was a spy. Her true identity wasn't something just anyone could—or should—know; anonymity was vital to her work, and he had completely disregarded that, even introducing her by her 'real' name to people who, to her, were complete strangers… all without considering her opinion in the slightest.
'Idiot!…' he scolded himself in frustration. Though he knew his mental sharpness was being compromised by his body's precarious state, he hadn't expected it to be to such an extent.
This was dangerous—he needed to be more careful or risk doing or saying something even more stupid and damaging. Fortunately, his anomalous state was nearing its critical point; he just needed to hold on a little longer.
After a brief conversation among the five of them, during which they explained the situation to Natasha in more detail, the SHIELD agents began to enter the warehouse to begin their work, and just as she was about to follow them, Daniel took the opportunity to walk with her.
"I owe you an apology," he said as sincerely as he could, and upon hearing him, she scoffed, her previous polite smile fading into an unreadable expression.
"I won't say I'm not upset. You put me in a very uncomfortable position," she said before sighing and shaking her head, turning her gaze back to him with a serious look.
"I don't know if you trust them, but I certainly don't. Now I'll have to find out everything about both of them just so I can sleep peacefully again," she added in a wounded tone that almost made Daniel laugh. If it hadn't been for the slight glint of amusement in her eyes, he wouldn't have even realized she was pretending.
Witnessing her acting skills firsthand was always both impressive and unsettling.
"I'm sorry, really. My head's been in the clouds these days," he apologized again, not going into much detail. Even so, the little he said was enough for her to stop and begin scanning him from head to toe with greater seriousness.
"I can see it. Your posture is more tense than usual, your voice sounds duller… even your eyes seem to have lost some of their brightness… What's going on?" she asked directly, with a concern that seemed genuine—or at least, Daniel hoped it was.
Despite his superhuman senses, reading someone as skilled at controlling her body language as she was could sometimes be difficult.
"You could say I'm sick," he said vaguely, and his words made her eyes widen for a second. Then, they narrowed, and her lips pressed together until they formed a thin line.
For a few moments, she said nothing. Not because it was shocking news—in fact, it shouldn't have been. Getting sick from time to time was perfectly natural; even she, who had access to one of the best healthcare plans in the world, wasn't exempt from experiencing it now and then.
So then… why had the idea of Daniel getting sick felt so inconceivable to her until now? Unable to help it, her mind sank into deep thought, trying to find an answer to that question.
Without realizing it, Natasha's mindset had been influenced, to some degree, by the way everyone else viewed Daniel.
Humans were like that: one way or another, their opinions and thoughts were shaped by those around them, and not even people with strong individuality were completely immune to it.
At some point, Natasha had placed Daniel on a kind of personal pedestal. It wasn't one of worship—she didn't believe Daniel was any sort of god or messiah like others proclaimed—but rather one of separation.
No matter how human his behavior or appearance might be, some unconscious part of her had always perceived him as… different.
And realizing that even he could get "sick" had shaken that previously unknown notion, making her finally aware that such thoughts existed within her.
For several seconds, she could do nothing but remain still, her mind trying—and failing—to process all of this. However, her self-control soon took over, helping her regain composure, and she slowly resumed walking.
This wasn't the time or place to reflect on such matters; that could come later, and in private. For now, she decided it was better to focus her attention on something far more important—something that stirred her curiosity with a growing sense of unease.
Finding out what kind of illness could affect the most powerful being on the planet.
Above all, she wanted to know if she'd have to quarantine the whole damn city. Though, given how fast Daniel moved and how many places he visited during his patrols, it might be more than a dozen cities that would need to be locked down…
Of course, that was just her usual pessimistic side talking—she didn't truly believe a situation of that magnitude was actually going to happen.
If there was one thing Daniel wasn't, it was stupid. Someone so knowledgeable in scientific fields and so committed to the well-being of others had surely taken the necessary precautions, in case the illness affecting him turned out to be something contagious and infectious.
At least, Natasha hoped that was the case. Otherwise, they were all super fucked… and not in the fun way.
Sensing the curiosity and concern in her, and before she could ask, Daniel stepped in to clarify.
"It's not a sickness in the traditional sense of the word, but rather an 'anomalous' condition resulting from the incident at the Baxter Foundation science fair," he said, briefly explaining the key points of what had happened that day.
On the one hand, knowing there was no hyper-lethal supervirus to worry about made Natasha let out a long sigh of relief. Even if she had a certain degree of trust in him, her years as one of the world's top assassins had taught her to remain cautious, no matter who she was dealing with.
On the other hand, even for someone who had seen as much as she had, trying to picture him closing a rift in space-time with nothing but his hands and raw strength was hard to imagine… almost unreal.
Still, she didn't question the truth of what he told her. After all, she—and the entire world—had already seen him go head-to-head with a walking black hole, one that devastated several cities and nearly wiped out the East Coast, while also disturbing the planet's magnetic field and causing countless natural disasters as collateral damage.
Considering all that, maybe those deep thoughts that had once been unknown to her weren't so wrong after all. No matter how human the man walking beside her seemed… he really wasn't.
'No, actually, there are parts of him that are,' she thought suddenly, recalling some of their past interactions.
At least in the mental department, Daniel wasn't all that different from other people… which didn't seem like much of a comfort, because Natasha knew well how flawed the human mind could be—and how easily it could break.
What was worse? An inhuman god… or a human with the power of a god?
And what would happen when the latter inevitably became the former?
"Something wrong?" Daniel asked, pulling her back to reality.
Shaking her head, Natasha realized that, without meaning to, she'd gotten more distracted than she should have.
"It's nothing," she replied, refocusing on what she was supposed to be doing and deciding, for now, to set aside any unnecessary reflection.
Daniel stopped, watching her walk toward the group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with mild curiosity.
He felt like there was more going on than just "nothing," but chose not to pry. Whatever was bothering her, if it was truly important, he'd help her deal with it later—once his body was in better shape and his brain didn't feel like mush.
'Almost time,' he thought, glancing at his hand and watching small blue electric arcs crackle between his fingertips.
The amount of extradimensional energy inside his body had grown so much that his atoms could no longer fully contain it. Now he had to make a conscious effort to keep it from wreaking havoc around him.
Casting one last glance at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Daniel turned around and left the warehouse.
"...Alright, then we'll meet up in three days and share everything we've found," he heard Matt saying to Tony. Apparently, while he was talking with Natasha, they'd already discussed their plan regarding The Hand.
Matt gave him a nod as he saw him approaching. Then said his goodbyes and left in a bit of a hurry, as if afraid that, if he delayed, they might miss the small window of opportunity they had to learn more about the Ten Rings.
"I should get going too. While I investigate, I want to hurry up and finish the Mark 3.5," Tony told them, ready to leave. But just as he was about to do so, he hesitated, pausing for a moment before stepping forward and giving Peter a surprisingly gentle pat on the shoulder.
"Don't dwell too much on what happened today, kid. Dealing with terrorists is like that—those bastards treat other people's lives like they're worth less than trash. Remember that... and harden your heart."
For what were supposed to be words of comfort, Daniel wouldn't say it was the best—but coming from Tony, it was already quite a lot..
"I get it..." Peter replied, his voice slightly hoarse. Tony didn't know what else to say, so he simply turned to Daniel and gave a quick gesture in Peter's direction, as if to say: 'You handle this.'
Then, with the sound of repulsors powering up, his figure rose into the air and flew off in the direction of Stark Tower.
'Son of a bitch…' Daniel thought as he watched him vanish in the distance.
Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have minded dealing with this alone. But right now... never mind giving good advice—just trying to offer something halfway decent was already asking too much.
Not knowing what to do, Daniel rubbed his chin before sighing and glancing at Peter out of the corner of his eye.
'So alike, and yet so different.'
Of course he had recognized him almost instantly. Despite the worn-out suit he wore and the absence of his characteristic spider emblem on the chest, it hadn't taken Daniel long to start recovering several of the memories of who had once been one of his favorite childhood heroes.
Or at least, a version of him from another universe. Because in this universe, that unbreakable hero from his memories—the one 'he' would have turned to for guidance and direction—was just a boy barely starting down his path.
Anything he said now, if he said it the wrong way, could end up twisting that entire path. and that wasn't a burden Daniel wanted to take on.
'But someone has to do something, right?' a voice in his head said.
'Would you really let him deal with this alone?' another echoed.
'Either I'm going crazy, or my brain's starting to fail.' Frowning, Daniel swallowed with difficulty. The symptoms were getting worse; even the synaptic signals between his neurons seemed to be affected.
"Is it always like this?" The sudden words nearly startled him. Turning to Peter, he noticed the boy watching him with slight nervousness.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Seeing others die... is it always like this?" Peter paused, trying—and failing—to put what he meant into words.
"Well... I'd like to tell you it gets easier, but it doesn't. Or rather, it shouldn't."
Daniel weighed his words before continuing.
"Some people grow numb to death, like soldiers on the battlefield, who shut their minds off just enough to endure the impact. I won't say that's wrong—but we're not soldiers. Human lives aren't something we should cast aside or see as expendable-"
"But you've killed!..." Peter nearly shouted, tensing up before shrinking back under Daniel's gaze, as if his strength had suddenly slipped away.
"I-in Afghanistan, you and Iron Man killed a lot of people."
"Terrorists," Daniel corrected, with more sharpness than he intended.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed again. He knew he wasn't exactly the best person to talk about this. His way of doing things—his outlook—was, in many ways, radical, and not something most people would agree with. And that was fine! But in moments like this, it probably just made him seem like a giant hypocrite.
"Look... I'm not going to tell you that the way I do things is the right one. Everyone has their own sense of morality and their own limits. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it—when it comes to weighing the lives of innocents against the lives of criminals, my choice is clear..." he said gravely.
"...That doesn't mean I sleep easy at night, or that I don't care about the lives I take. But if taking down a criminal at the right moment means an innocent person gets to go home to their family... then I'll do it, even if it leaves me with scars," he added more softly.
He knew those weren't the right words, that it wasn't what he should be saying, but he didn't know what else to do.
Peter remained in heavy silence, clenching and unclenching his fists from time to time before finally relaxing and nodding slowly.
"An unfair world, huh?" the teenager finally murmured, almost in an inaudible whisper, his words sounding a little too familiar for Daniel's liking.
"I've… I've got a lot to think about," he said, turning around, ready to leave.
"Wait!" Daniel hurried to stop him, and with a quick motion, pulled out one of the communicators he carried and tossed it to him.
"With this you can contact me.. If you need anything—anything at all… just turn it on."
Peter looked at the communicator in his palm for a few seconds before carefully slipping it into his pocket. Then he gave a small wave of farewell and, raising his arm, aimed toward the distance.
With the sound of compressed air being released, a thin white line shot from his wrist toward one of the nearby buildings and, with a soft tug, his body launched into the air, his figure vanishing among the tall buildings.
'Did I mess it up?' Daniel wondered in frustration. He didn't know if his words had had a negative effect on the teenager—maybe he shouldn't have said anything in the first place.
Why did talking to people have to be so complicated?
'You're doing the best you can, you're doing the best you can,' he repeated to himself several times like a mantra.
After staying like that for a few minutes, his mind managed to clear up a bit.
Whatever would be, would be. Whether he had done the right thing or the wrong one, there was no way to change it now. All he could do was be ready to face the consequences when they came, and try to fix things if necessary—just as he had always done.
"Ugh!" Daniel growled sharply.
A sudden spasm shot through his entire body, and small cramps began attacking each of his muscles, causing his figure to contort in strange, unnatural ways. The pain was so intense that cold sweat began to run down his forehead, and his eyes started to turn red.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed, and without hesitation, shot into the sky with such speed that he left behind a sonic boom that burst several nearby windows and set off some car's alarms.
In a fraction of a second, he flew beyond the cloud layer and pierced through Earth's cold atmosphere, coming face to face with the infinite void of outer space.
This time, he didn't have a moment to admire the view. Without thinking twice, he tried to get as far away from Earth as possible, having no idea where he was headed—he only knew he couldn't stay near anything material that could be affected by what was about to happen.
'It's happening faster than I expected,' he thought, gritting his teeth as he watched the stars around him begin to blur, his speed increasing with every passing second.
He hoped his flight would carry him beyond the solar system, preferably to a completely empty region. But contrary to his wishes, his trajectory was suddenly interrupted by a burst of pain that sent him spinning out of control.
"Argh!"
Bolts of blue energy flashed from his body in a chaotic explosion that made him spit out an impossible amount of blood.
For a moment, he lost all control of his flight, and with his vision spinning nonstop, whatever orientation he had left vanished completely.
With his body twisting in impossible ways, his limbs suddenly stopped obeying him, and his bones began to crack, slowly breaking into countless splinters. Then, fissures started forming across his skin, and from them, arcs of chaotic energy burst forth, tearing through his flesh.
If Daniel had ever thought he understood what pain was, in that moment he realized that everything he had endured before had been nothing more than a mere child's game.
For an instant that felt eternal, the desire to die was born in his mind—calling to him, tempting him, promising that if he gave in, all the suffering would come to an end.
It would be so easy...
"NO!"
He screamed, tearing his throat and crushing that thought with every ounce of his will.
"Not yet!" Fighting against the pain, he forced himself to hold on. And once again, before him—watching with an indecipherable smile—appeared a woman with ashen skin and dark eyes.
Her short black hair waved in a wind that didn't exist, and her slender arms stretched out warmly toward him, inviting him to fall into them, to accept her embrace.
But he wouldn't. Looking at her with courage, he smiled at her fiercely. It was a horrible smile, as his teeth were shattered and blood was pouring from his mouth in torrents.
The gruesome sight didn't seem to intimidate the woman in the slightest; instead, she simply raised an eyebrow at him before laughing, a glint of amusement in her eyes. Without saying a single word, her figure began to slowly fade into nothingness.
Letting out a cold snort, Daniel refocused on himself, using all his mental strength to contain the energy explosions threatening to tear his body apart from the inside.
He couldn't let his smart atoms and his core do all the work. If he truly wanted to overcome this situation, he needed to gain full control over the energy brewing inside him.
Before, that would have been impossible, since in the beginning, the energy had been a foreign, invasive presence with no connection to him. But now, his smart atoms had almost fully assimilated it, forming that previously nonexistent connection. Thanks to that, he had begun to sense it with far greater clarity—enough that manipulating it had become possible.
Of course, just because it was possible didn't mean it was easy.
"Goddamn it!" he cursed. The faint control he had barely managed to obtain slipped from his grasp almost instantly, triggering another burst of chaotic energy that exploded outward, tearing a massive hole in his side from which his guts spilled out.
Guts that turned to less than dust a fraction of a second after leaving his body, as the healing energy from his core ceased to affect them.
The explosion violently disrupted his trajectory once again, hurling him abruptly in an unknown direction. At this point, Daniel had no idea how he was going to make it back to Earth.
'Should've studied those space charts more,' he scolded himself—though in his defense, the plan had been to let his body drift gently somewhere in the vacuum of space.
Honestly, he hadn't considered that his flight ability would spiral out of control, or that the energy explosions would be strong enough to launch him from nothingness.
Resigned to his uncertain fate, Daniel shut his eyes tightly and decided to stop worrying about where he'd end up once all of this was over.
Or at least, he would have—if his face hadn't suddenly smashed into something solid.
"What the—?!" he shouted, alarmed, as everything around him shook and a massive crater formed from the impact.
'Please don't be Earth! Please don't be Earth!' he begged inwardly. Barely managing to stand, eyes bloodshot, he looked around quickly, taking in the strange, desolate landscape surrounding him.
'Not Earth,' he thought with relief, just before his gaze was drawn to something 'above' him.
"Whoa…" he breathed, stunned, as he took in the sight of the titanic mass floating in space. If it weren't for his superhuman vision, he wouldn't have been able to even make out its full circumference.
'Is that Jupiter?' He hadn't expected his chaotic flight to end with him crashing into one of its moons, though he wasn't complaining—he could work with this. He just needed to stay close and use it as a reference point to get back to Earth later.
Forcing his body to move, Daniel managed to sit cross-legged on the cold, barren, rocky surface of the moon he'd struck. He didn't know which moon it was—Jupiter had too many—but he was glad he'd run into it.
'I'll call you Little D. Might even build a secret base in you someday,' he thought, trying to distract himself from the immeasurable pain surging through him—though with little success.
'Enough distractions! It's time to take control of this stupid energy!' Clenching his freshly regenerated teeth, Daniel focused his entire being inward.
Slowly, his consciousness extended into each of his atoms, toward the current of energy that now enveloped them and was beginning to become part of them.
Little by little, he tried to guide it, but his attempt to take control was quickly thwarted by a serious problem—containing the energy felt like trying to hold back a tsunami with his bare hands. No matter how desperately he tried to block its path, it kept slipping through his fingers.
'It's too much—and it keeps growing!' At this rate, forget gaining control—just keeping his body in one piece would become nearly impossible!
He had underestimated the amount of energy his atoms would generate during the adaptation process. Even if, over time, they would adjust to safely store the new energy they were now producing, that process still needed much more time to be completed.
Time he didn't have.
'I have to get rid of it,' he decided, changing tactics entirely. This time, he no longer tried to contain it; instead, he focused on guiding it in the opposite direction—to force it out from within.
"ARRRGHHH!!!" Throwing his head back, he let a guttural, agonized scream tear from his lungs, just as streams of light burst from his body in all directions. Cracks split open in his skin once more, and from his eyes and mouth, jets of energy shot skyward, forming a pillar of light that stained Jupiter's surface a brilliant blue.
BOOM!
With a soundless explosion that made the surrounding space-time twist and ripple, the moon recently named 'Little D' vanished completely from the face of the universe—without leaving behind so much as a speck of dust.
.
.
.
'Am I dead?' Daniel wondered, his vision flickering between endless darkness and blurry, shapeless flashes of light.
His whole being felt limp, weak, as if every last ounce of strength had been wrung out of him, leaving him dry.
He was exhausted—terribly exhausted. It had been a long time since he'd felt such a crushing weight pressing down on him. He was sleepy, unbearably so. He needed to rest. He wanted to pass out.
'Just a little nap, five minutes. I just want to sleep for five minutes.'
And yet, even as he longed to give in to the fatigue, a tiny part of his mind kept pulsing stubbornly.
'Home… I need to go home,' whispered a quiet, insistent voice inside him. And thanks to that, his clouded eyes managed to regain a bit of focus.
'Yes… at the very least, I have to make it back to Earth,' he thought, forcing himself to stay awake.
His gaze wandered across the dark void, dotted with distant lights, until it finally caught the vague shape of the massive gas giant that had once been near him.
'It looks small,' he thought with a frown. It seemed that somehow he had drifted away from it—but at least not far enough to lose sight of it completely.
Using it as a point of reference, he put what little he knew about space navigation into practice and managed to identify what he believed to be the correct path.
'It has to be—no other star is that close,' he decided as he looked at what he assumed was his sun.
Gathering every last drop of strength he still had, he propelled his body forward at great speed, unaware that a thin trail of blue light was now being left behind him.
In a matter of seconds, he crossed hundreds of thousands of kilometers, and though his eyelids begged to close,, Daniel kept them open, focusing on finding that familiar blue and brown sphere floating in space.
"Bingo," he smiled weakly, as he slowed his pace. As he adjusted his trajectory, the image of his beautiful home slowly began to reflect in his dim eyes.
And thus, that persistent part of his mind that had resisted falling asleep finally stopped fighting.
'Just five minutes,' he thought, letting his eyelids fall shut as his body was drawn in by the planet's gravitational pull.
The last thing he managed to see, before sinking into the darkness of his mind, was the beautiful and endless blue mantle of the sea reflecting the sun's warm rays.
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Note:
F in the chat for the "little D."
How have you all been? I'm really sorry for the delay. Originally, this chapter was supposed to come out several days ago, but—as often happens—things don't always go as planned.
Between a terribly annoying case of conjunctivitis, quitting my job, and spending days looking for a new one, these past few days have been incredibly stressful hahaha.
But well, things are finally starting to stabilize now.
That all said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I hope to be able to share a new sketch of Carol soon—something I've been working on in my spare time.
Thank you for your patience and support!
P.S. If you notice any errors, I will be extremely grateful if you point them out so I can correct them.
Remember that you can already find the next chapter of this story on Patreon ( patreon.com/EmmaCruzader ) All the support received is appreciated ;D