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The night was alive with chaos. Zombies soared through the sky like twisted angels, their shattered wings beating the air as they let out ghastly cries. Below, Fort Doom stood as humanity's final bastion, but its defenders faced an unrelenting tide of undead.
"Come on! The sky's clear; no mines up there!" one zombie shrieked. "Let the ground dwellers handle the mines. We'll start the feast up here!"
As they dove toward the castle, missiles erupted from its defensive systems, streaking through the night with fiery tails. One by one, the airborne undead were struck down, their bodies torn apart in explosions of fire and flesh.
Flaming debris rained from the sky, taking down vultures and other flying monstrosities. Their dying screams echoed in the night, drowned by the roar of larger fireballs that consumed them entirely.
Thor, now downstairs with the other defenders, prepared for the next wave. The battlefield crackled with energy, chaos swirling all around.
Inside Fort Doom, Adrian stood near the roaring fireplace, a grim expression on his face. In his hands was the Book of the Dead, its cover rough and gray, bound in what could only be described as human skin.
He ran his fingers over the writing etched in blood, his voice steady and low. "Open your eyes. I know you can hear me."
Suddenly, the book responded. Two jagged cracks on the cover snapped open, revealing blood-red, eyeless sockets. Below, a twisted mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth spread into a sinister grin.
"Ah, what's this? Williams couldn't handle me, so he sent some second-rate magician to negotiate?" the book sneered.
Adrian's eyes didn't waver. "Ash Williams is dead."
The book cackled. "Hah! A good death, though he'll never truly die. So, what do you want, human? Did he whisper to you before the end that I could save your pathetic world?"
"No," Adrian replied coldly, "and I'm not here to beg."
The book's grin widened. "You'll be disappointed, then. This virus, this hunger—it's not my doing. Its origin lies beyond this world. But if you get on your knees and plead, I might consider helping you."
Adrian smirked and held the book closer to the fire. "You misunderstand who's in control here."
Without hesitation, he ripped a page from the Book of the Dead. The parchment, sticky with dried blood, crumbled slightly at the edges. He tossed it into the flames.
The fire roared higher, its light bathing the room in an eerie red glow. The book screamed, a sound so piercing it seemed to shake the walls.
"You madman! Stop this at once!" the book howled. "Do you even know what I am? How many have sought my power and failed to obtain it?"
Adrian ignored its cries, tearing another page and throwing it into the fire. His voice was calm, almost casual. "You think you're above this, don't you? Bound in human skin, written in human blood—how ironic that a tool of death could itself be destroyed."
The book's screams grew louder as more pages burned, its twisted eyes filled with fury and desperation. "Enough! Enough! I'll do what you ask—just stop!"
Adrian paused, holding a page above the flames. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He stepped closer to the fireplace, watching the book's reaction with a faint smile.
The book recoiled, its blood-red eyes fixed on the fire. "Stay back! Too close, too close!"
"You should know," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "those zombies outside don't just want the living. They want you too. To them, you're nothing more than dessert."
The book hissed, its grin fading. "We share a common goal, magician. Escape this cursed world. There's a teleporter in the basement. Take me there, and we'll both be free."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "And I'm supposed to believe the promises of a cursed book?"
The book chuckled darkly. "You mortals are always so fragile, so hypocritical. Yet, here you are, willing to do anything to survive."
Adrian touched the amulet around his neck, its golden light casting a faint glow. He lifted it for the book to see. "By the name of Vishanti, I swear my words are true. Today, I seek only survival."
The book's eyes narrowed, evaluating him. "You dare invoke the Vishanti? Then you must be truthful. Very well—what's your plan?"
---
Outside, chaos erupted anew as the zombie horde closed in on Fort Doom. A dark cloud suddenly descended from the sky, engulfing the undead in a dense, unnatural fog.
"What is this?" Black Bolt asked, his voice laced with confusion as he stared at the swirling darkness.
Storm shook her head, her own powers seemingly useless against the phenomenon. "I don't know. It's… not mine."
The fog churned, its shadows taking form. Twisted, humanoid shapes emerged, their features grotesque and nightmarish. Dozens of decaying hands shot out from the darkness, clawing at Daredevil as he tried to crawl away.
"Steve! Help me!" Daredevil screamed, his voice cut short as the rotting hands pulled him into the shadows. Blood sprayed from the darkness, painting the ground in red streaks.
"Damn it!" Captain America snarled, gripping his shield tighter. "Keep pushing forward! Whatever this is, it's just another obstacle. We'll tear it apart like everything else!"
But even as he spoke, the shadows grew thicker, their unearthly whispers drowning out the sound of the battle. The horde hesitated, unsure whether to charge forward or retreat.
Adrian watched from the safety of the castle, the Book of the Dead clutched in his hand. "The pieces are in play," he muttered, his eyes gleaming.
The book grinned. "Careful, magician. Even the best plans can crumble when darkness takes hold."
Adrian's grip tightened. "Let's find out."
🛡️Ronin 🛡️
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