The alloy gate loomed before them like a hill, its frame forged from metal dense enough to shrug off explosives.
And yet, it was being torn apart—slowly, inexorably—by bare hands.
The sight froze the Hand's senior leadership in place.
"What… what kind of monster is this?!" one of them stammered.
"Opening the alloy door with his hands?!" another exclaimed, voice rising into panic.
A third spoke with dawning horror: "I'm starting to think the leader wasn't captured by just anyone… It might have been this man!"
"Run!" someone shouted.
But before they could take more than two steps, a deep voice rolled from beyond the half-open gate:
"Want to run? Do you really think you can?"
The words hit harder than any weapon. In an instant, an invisible force clamped down on them, locking every muscle in place. It felt as if the air itself had turned to stone around their bodies.
Several of the high-ranking elders strained, their faces turning red, veins bulging in their necks. These were warriors who had survived centuries—each one possessing power that could crush a normal human army. But against this unseen restraint, their efforts were useless.
The alloy doors groaned open further, revealing a widening gap. A chill raced up their spines as the man stepped through. Each footfall felt heavier than the last, as if pressing down directly on their hearts.
One by one, they were forced to turn, their bodies pivoting against their will until they were facing the mysterious intruder.
An old woman found her voice first. Her tone was unsteady. "Y–You… did you capture our leader… and Lord Cthulhu?"
Nathan gave a faint nod.
Every drop of blood seemed to drain from their faces. They'd suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed shattered the last fragments of their composure.
Who was this man? How could he have such overwhelming power… and yet be completely unknown to them?
The Hand had rules—principles, even. They never provoked anyone stronger than themselves. They made it a point to identify every major powerhouse on Earth and beyond, ensuring they only preyed on those they could overwhelm. That policy had kept them thriving for centuries.
And yet, in their attempt to capture someone with a "slightly stronger" body for their god to possess… they had pulled the tail of a dragon.
They hadn't just found a dangerous opponent—they had found the one who could imprison both their leader and their god.
The gang leader's most trusted lieutenant spoke through gritted teeth. "I have to know… did you really defeat our leader in her complete form?"
Nathan shook his head. "I didn't give her the chance to fully integrate. I ripped the demon power out of her body."
The words hit them like a physical blow. The old woman's eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible! That power belongs only to Lord Cthulhu! No one else can control it—not even Dormammu!"
They knew why—Cthulhu's power was refined, marked, and locked to his essence. It could no more be wielded by another than a man could steal another's soul. Unless the god himself gave permission, it was untouchable.
Nathan only shrugged. "Nothing is impossible. But enough about me—it's my turn to ask questions."
The old woman's voice trembled. "W–What do you want?"
"I want answers about the beast," Nathan said flatly.
The response was instant and defiant.
"You want us to betray Lord Cthulhu? Never!"
"Our lives belong to him—we will never betray!"
Nathan didn't argue. He simply snapped his fingers.
Sapphire moved. The blue symbiote launched forward, engulfing the old woman completely. In seconds, her form warped, transforming into a towering, monstrous figure—skin sheathed in alien muscle, jaws lined with gleaming fangs.
The other elders flinched. Their resolve cracked, just a little.
The old woman looked down at herself, startled. "My… my strength—it's skyrocketed!" She could feel raw power flooding her veins, more than enough to crush the others in the room with a single strike.
Yet when she tested the invisible bindings, she found she still couldn't move an inch. Even this newfound strength was nothing before Nathan's grip.
She looked at him with a mix of awe and fear. "You gave me this power just to prove that even stronger, I'm still nothing to you, didn't you?"
Nathan didn't answer.
The possession lasted longer than usual—Sapphire was digging deep. This woman's memories spanned centuries, and extracting the relevant threads took time.
Finally, Sapphire oozed free, flowing back to Nathan like molten cobalt.
"Boss," she said in his mind, "this one's memory is massive. Hundreds of years. To find your answer, I'd have to sift through it all—it'll take a lot of work."
Nathan's brow furrowed. "Figures."
He turned back to the elders. "I pulled the demonic power from Hei Kong's body. That's why she couldn't complete her transformation."
A black aura uncoiled from Nathan's wrist, slithering into the air. The room dropped several degrees as a suffocating wave of evil intent rolled out. The aura was unmistakable—it was Cthulhu's own.
The Hand members stared, their eyes wide, their minds blank with shock.
"Which is why," Nathan continued, "Hei Kong isn't going anywhere. But the beast's silence lately worries me. I want to know what it's plotting."
He stepped forward, his arm shifting into a massive, razor-edged scythe. The cold steel pressed lightly against their throats, yet the air itself seemed to burn with the taste of death.
The old woman's voice cracked. "Y–You… you really took the devil's power from her…"
Shin, the only elder still in his physical prime, forced a cold glare. "You'll get nothing from us. We will never betray our god!"
Nathan sighed. The scythe blurred, reforming into a spear, and in the same motion—
Pssst!
The weapon punched through Shin's chest, pinning him to the ground. He gasped once, tried to speak, then slumped lifeless.
Nathan withdrew the spear. "Fanatics. I should've known better."
He raised the weapon again—
"Wait! No, no!" several of the others cried. "We're not like him! We'll talk!"
Centuries of survival had taught them the first rule of their lives: dogged loyalty to the living. The Hand's unspoken principle was simple—if you can't win, you submit.
And this man… this man had captured their god. If even Cthulhu seemed ready to flee, what sense was there in defying him?
The old woman spoke quickly. "The god's silence… it might be because of you. I think it's gathering its strength, preparing secret techniques—planning to escape you and cause you trouble elsewhere."
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Trouble…? Explain."
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