Space was supposed to be silent.
But the void was breaking.
In a forgotten stretch of the cosmos, where ancient stars had long since died and nothing stirred, reality itself trembled. A rupture tore open—soundless and unseen—like a wound in the fabric of existence.
Through that rift fell a figure.
A man. A predator. Something beyond the laws of physics and life.
He landed on the cracked surface of a dead moon orbiting a small, vibrant planet.
Dust exploded around his bare feet as they struck the barren ground. The air was thin, the temperature near absolute zero, but his body burned with a raw, primal heat.
Silver-white hair whipped around a face sculpted by countless battles. Golden eyes, fierce and unyielding, scanned the lifeless horizon.
He rose slowly, the dust settling at his feet.
His voice was a low growl, carried only in his mind.
"Tch… Another universe."
He looked up at distant stars—the unfamiliar constellations glittering coldly overhead. None shone with the warmth of hope or peace. Only potential. A new battlefield.
He had no interest in their light.
---
Far above, in the vastness of the Astral Plane, a figure stirred.
Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, jolted awake, sweat beading on his brow. The air shimmered around him as a warning echoed through the mystic currents.
"Something has come," Wong said softly from behind, eyes wide.
Strange's gaze hardened.
"This is no summoning. No spell. It's… an invasion of sorts. A being not born here. Forced through the cracks of reality."
"Is it a god?" Wong asked.
"No," Strange replied, voice grim. "Something worse. A calamity made flesh."
---
Back on the moon, the stranger's gaze fell on the blue orb spinning quietly below—the planet Earth.
Billions of lives thrived there. Monsters, heroes, gods, and mortals alike.
He sneered.
"Another world ruled by self-declared gods. Let's see if they're worthy."
With no technology or propulsion, he leapt—an impossible feat of raw power—launching himself from the moon's surface into the black abyss. He vanished among the stars, heading for the nearest inhabited system.
---
Meanwhile, deep within the Kree Empire, alarms screamed across the sky.
The planet Zorath-9 was a prison fortress, home to the galaxy's most dangerous criminals. Warlords, rebels, and genetic experiments imprisoned under heavy guard.
Four battleships hovered above the atmosphere, weapons primed.
Suddenly, the sky fractured like glass.
A burning figure plummeted through the clouds, tearing a fiery path toward the ground.
Before anyone could react, the stranger had crashed into the command deck of the largest ship, his presence shattering glass and steel.
He was calm. Unarmored. Unyielding.
Dozens of Kree guards opened fire with blasters and energy weapons. Beams lanced through the air, striking him again and again.
Yet his skin hardened with every hit, adapting instantly. The energy dissipated harmlessly.
He moved with deadly precision.
A guard lunged for his throat—and disappeared before the others even blinked.
In moments, the ship was silent but for the heavy breathing of the surviving soldiers—alive, but broken.
Garou's voice cut through the chaos.
"You call yourselves soldiers. But you break too easily. I want better."
He vanished into the wreckage, leaving ruin behind like a hunter leaving a calling card.
---
In the orbiting Nova Corps Headquarters, Richard Rider studied a holographic map, red blips blinking ominously.
"An extinction-level event?" he muttered.
"No," the AI beside him responded. "A singular entity, not a natural disaster. Kree reports confirm the arrival of a being calling itself Garou. Origin unknown. Power level escalating rapidly. Behavior: hostile and unpredictable."
Rider's jaw clenched.
"This isn't just another threat. It's something new. Something dangerous."
---
Far from the battlefield, Garou stood atop the ruins of the prison tower, watching distant stars.
Blood coated his hands, but the anticipation in his veins was electric.
"They're weak," he murmured. "Too soft. The universe has grown soft."
He raised his head, eyes narrowing toward the cosmic watchers hiding behind their veils of power.
"If you're watching," he said, voice steady as stone, "send me your strongest."
He spat on the ground.
"Or I'll come to your throne worlds and tear down your false heavens myself."
---
In a distant citadel beyond space and time, the Watcher Uatu observed silently.
Behind him, the Multiversal Council of Reed Richards debated.
"Contain him."
"No. Study him."
"Kill him before he grows."
But none dared approach.
For Garou was no mere god, no herald of destruction with a name in the legends.
He was something else.
A force of nature.
A reckoning.
A calamity.
---
If gods exist to rule men… then I exist to slay gods.