The Quinjet hovered momentarily before descending into a barren clearing, its engines kicking up a swirl of dust and loose debris from past conflicts. The hatch hissed open, and Ethan led his team down the ramp. Their boots hit the cracked earth with an ominous crunch.
Susan Storm's red-rimmed eyes betrayed her struggle to process the loss of Reed. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of grief, her usual grace dimmed. Ben Grimm, the ever-loyal "Thing," stood beside her, his rocky brow furrowed in silent contemplation. Despite his hulking form, Ben was the heart of their team—a warm, steadfast presence in the face of chaos.
Ben scratched the back of his craggy head, unsure how to console her. What could I say? he thought. He glanced at Susan, his chest tightening. Once, he'd loved her from afar, but Reed Richards had won her heart. He never resented them; loyalty to Reed and Susan always came first. But now, with Reed gone, a complicated tangle of guilt and relief churned inside him.
"Sue," Ben finally managed, his gravelly voice low. "I—I know it hurts, but we gotta keep moving. Reed wouldn't want us to fall apart."
Susan didn't respond, her gaze fixed somewhere far away.
Meanwhile, Ethan stepped a few paces ahead, his dark coat billowing faintly in the dry wind. His sharp eyes scanned the desolate landscape. The air felt wrong—oppressive, heavy, and silent in a way that made even his experienced nerves twitch.
"Is this really the place?" Ethan asked, turning to the pilot with a skeptical frown.
The pilot nodded, almost too quickly. "Yes, sir. Doctor Doom himself provided these coordinates. I double-checked them."
Ethan exhaled through his nose. "Doom," he muttered, distaste curling his lip. "Alright. Let's see what he's got us walking into."
He turned back to the team. "Wanda," he called, his voice commanding yet calm, "get everyone to form up. Defensive circle. Something's off here."
Wanda nodded and relayed the order. Within moments, the group assembled, weapons ready.
Ethan reached for the pendant hanging around his neck—a charm designed for astral projection. As he activated the spell, his body stiffened, and his spirit separated, hovering weightlessly above.
The world seemed to shift as Ethan's spiritual form floated upward. The barren land below took on an eerie clarity, every cracked stone and withered tree now pulsing faintly with latent energy. From this vantage, the area seemed less empty and more…alive, its malevolence seeping into the edges of perception.
He drifted farther, pushing his senses outward. The ground blurred into blackness, an infinite void where light dared not venture. Then, a figure emerged.
Standing in the darkness was a man cloaked in green, his metal mask glinting faintly. The air around him crackled with restrained power, and his piercing gaze locked onto Ethan's astral form.
"Ethan," the figure intoned, his voice resonating in the void like the toll of a distant bell. "You meddle in matters beyond your comprehension."
Ethan's instincts screamed at him to retreat, but the magnetic pull of the figure's presence held him in place for a moment too long. His spirit quivered, a chill slicing through him despite his incorporeal form.
With a violent effort, Ethan severed the connection and snapped back into his body. His eyes flew open as he gasped, his chest heaving.
"Ethan!" Wanda called, her voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine," he rasped, though the sweat dripping down his brow told a different story.
Ethan pushed himself upright, his mind racing. That wasn't just any figure—that was Doom, and whatever he was planning, it was worse than Ethan had anticipated.
"Thor," Ethan barked, his voice steady but urgent. "Hammer. One o'clock. Easy power. Now."
Thor raised a golden eyebrow, twirling Mjolnir lazily in his hand. "Easy, you say? I don't do it easy, mate."
"Just toss it like you're sparring with Tony," Ethan shot back, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.
Thor grinned. "If you say so."
With a flick of his wrist, the God of Thunder hurled Mjolnir. The hammer flew forward, wobbling ever so slightly in the air, sparks rippling lazily from its surface.
The hammer struck nothing—at first. Then, a shimmer in the air distorted into a grotesque figure, clawed and shadowy, crouched low as if stalking its prey. The beast screeched as the impact sent it flying backward, black ichor spraying the ground.
The team stiffened, their weapons raised. The shimmering air continued to ripple, revealing more forms—dozens of them. Twisted humanoid shapes emerged, their hollow eyes burning with unnatural red light.
"Doombots!" Wanda shouted, summoning a crimson barrier as one lunged toward her.
Ben cracked his knuckles. "Finally, somethin' to hit," he growled, slamming a fist into the nearest wraith and shattering it into a misty vapor.
Susan raised a trembling hand, summoning an invisible forcefield just in time to block a swipe from another creature. Her resolve sharpened as she stood her ground.
Thor let out a hearty laugh, whirling Mjolnir. "More sport for the mighty Thor!" He launched himself into the fray, scattering Doombots with thunderous blows.
Ethan stayed close to the center, his hands glowing faintly as he muttered incantations, binding Doombots in spectral chains and banishing them back into the void.
"Stay focused!" Ethan called out. "They're trying to push us back—don't give them the chance!"
As the battle raged, Ethan's mind lingered on the figure he'd seen in the void. Doom wasn't just watching; he was testing them, probing their weaknesses. Whatever lay ahead, Ethan knew they were walking straight into a trap.
Visit my patreon for more chapters
Advance 30+ Chapters Available
patreon.com/WhiteDevil7554