Fredozy
patreon
Chapter 129: Fascination
🕑 Added 2025-10-11 18:38:05 +0000 UTCIn the bunker beneath, the World Security Council was tense. The kind of silence that only existed before the realization of disaster. Dozens of men and women stood before a wall of screens, their eyes reflecting the blue fire. On every monitor, Gojo Satoru stood at the epicenter of the chaos, his white hair billowing like silver silk, surrounded by an inferno of azure flames that scorched the the very air around him along with all that came into contact with it.
For a fleeting second, they had thought Thor had returned when the lightning storm appeared out of nowhere in the city a few minutes ago. The lightning, the energy waves, the sheer magnitude of power, it was nothing short of divine. But then the flames shifted, taking on that unnatural, burning blue hue.
“Oh my god…” one of the analysts whispered.
The Council members leaned forward. Their last visual of this boy no, this anomaly had been months ago, during the battle against the Master of Magnetism. He’d vanished without a trace afterward. Fury had been asked. So had Stark. Neither had answered.
“What classification do we put him in now?” one of the officials asked, his voice sharp, trying to disguise the unease trembling beneath it.
“Based on this…” another said, zooming in on the feed where Gojo stood calmly in a sea of fire, “…I’d estimate him at Omega-level. Maybe higher.”
“Higher?” another scoffed. “We’re watching him rewrite thermodynamics in real-time! He’s a danger to everything and possibly more volatile than the Hulk.”
Someone muttered, “Get in touch with the Doctor. I want his evaluation on this immediately.”
The soldier monitoring the primary satellite feed stiffened suddenly. “Uh… sir? I think— I think he’s looking right at us.”
The others turned sharply to the screen.
Gojo had turned. His six eyes glimmered with an ethereal brilliance, piercing straight into the lens of the orbital satellite. And then, casually, he winked.
The soldier muttered under his breath, “What the f—”.
————————
Mirror Realm
Beyond the visible world, Yao, flanked by Mordo and Kaecilius, floated within the shifting glass landscape of the Mirror Dimension. Around them, shards of reality rippled and folded as they stabilized the fractures caused by the portal’s energy.
The sky within that reflection bled with light. Every pulse from the real world sent shockwaves through the mirrored horizon. The portal unstable and screaming with energy that strained against their combined spells.
“He’s getting stronger,” Kaecilius murmured, eyes fixed on Gojo’s image through the reflection. “Those flames of his… they’re not the same as before. His control’s improved since the confrontation with the Crimson God.”
Yao’s gaze shifted to the image. “Indeed. His potential is unlike any I have seen. The boy carries a light within him, a brilliance that may yet ignite change in this world… a light meant for good.”
Mordo frowned, his voice heavy with unease. “And if he ever strays from that light, Ancient One? What then?”
“Then,” Yao said calmly, eyes glimmering with certainty, “we shall be there to guide him… or to stop him.”
A violent quake shattered the calm as the portal pulsed, its inner rim warping and fracturing. Yao felt something massive clawing at the boundaries of space, a presence from beyond, pressing through the tear.
From the other side, a roar reverberated. It was a voice older than galaxies, colder than death.
Yao gritted her teeth, hands outstretched, golden sigils flaring brighter.
“You will not grace this world, Annihilator,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
—————————
Ground Zero – Midtown Manhattan
“Annoying.”
Gojo muttered as the blue fire rippled off him in waves, incinerating the remaining insectoids that dared crawl toward him. He could see it, the portal was shrinking. His six eyes locked onto the swirling tear in the sky, narrowing as he detected a foreign interference.
A different signature…
A shadow moved within the light. A colossal silhouette, humanoid and wreathed in energy.
Gojo tilted his head. “What the hell…?”
Before he could finish, another burst of energy rippled from the opposite end of the tear stabilizing the surge. His eyes widened as the portal contracted, the stream of insectoids thinning drastically.
“What just happened?” he murmured, lowering his beer as the blue flames dissolved into the wind.
“Impressive,” a deep voice echoed.
Gojo barely turned before a blast of plasma smashed into him. The impact shattered the air.
BOOOOOOM
Ravenous plasma axe was glowing with a brutal radiance. “I don’t know who or what you are, human,” he growled as he looked away and down at the avengers, “but you will die first.”
“You talk too much.”
A blur — then BOOOOOM.
Ravenous was sent hurtling like a cannonball through two skyscrapers. The blast shockwave shattered every window for five blocks.
From the wreckage, the alien warlord emerged, his armor cracked but glowing with renewed fury.
“You blocked my kick at the last microsecond,” Gojo said casually, brushing off dust from his sleeve. “Not bad.”
“How did you survive my plasma blast?” Ravenous demanded, his axe recharging.
“Oh, that?” Gojo’s smile deepened, mischievous. “That wasn’t me you hit. That was infinity.”
Ravenous frowned. “Infinity?”
“Normally,” Gojo said, raising his hand, “I wouldn’t bother explaining… but I’ll humor you.”
His voice shifted into something calm, almost clinical.
“It’s the space between you and me. An infinite sequence that can never be crossed. The closer you think you are… the slower you move. So technically, you never touch me. You just… stop.”
Ravenous blinked. “That’s impossible.”
Gojo smirked. “That’s physics. Well, my version of it.”
And then he was gone.
Ravenous’ eyes darted around, sensors screaming. A heartbeat later, his vision turned red.
“And of that infinity,” Gojo’s voice whispered beside him as a red orb hovered above his index finger, “there’s the red the divergence of space.”
BOOOOOM!
The explosion of red energy consumed Ravenous, blasting him through the air once more.
—————-
Battlefront – Midtown Ruins
Iron Man soared through the smoke, mini-missiles firing in bursts. The number of insectoids had dwindled but they still clawed at buildings and caused mayham.
Then came the explosion of a blinding red that tore through the skyline.
“Okay,” Tony muttered, sensors adjusting, “what the hell was that?”
Gojo’s voice filtered through the comms unintentionally carried through Stark’s open channel. “…and of that infinity, there’s the red…”
Captain America frowned. “What the hell does that even mean?”
Stark sighed. “It means the kid just broke space-time, Cap. Again.”
Natasha, dodging a swipe from a winged insectoid, snorted, “Cheating. That’s straight-up cheating.”
“Can’t disagree,” Clint added, loosing an arrow that exploded mid-air.
Another flash of red and the alien slammed through another building.
“Well,” Rogers said, slamming his shield into another insectoid, “at least the big one’s preoccupied.”
The next second, flames engulfed the creature in front of him.
Rogers turned, lowering his shield. “About damn time you guys showed up.”
From the smoke, Ben Grimm stomped forward, his rocky hide glistening with ash. “Yeah, well, we were held up. But now…” he cracked his knuckles, “…it’s clobberin’ time!”
Behind him, Reed carried the unconscious Sue Storm in his arms. Johnny Storm hovered nearby, blazing bright as a second sun.
Tony landed beside Reed, scanning Sue with his helmet. “You know, you should’ve just built a containment field first or you could’ve at least asked for help.”
“Maybe I should’ve asked ,” Reed replied, dead serious, eyes fixed on the still-glowing portal.
They both looked up as another explosion of red light illuminated the sky.
“What was that?” Reed asked as he observed the phenomenon before his eyes.
“Oh, that?” Tony said casually. “Well there’s this kid, who can apparently weaponize infinity.”
Reed’s eyes widened as he kept observing how the boy used that fascinating energy of his. “Fascinating. Does the red represent an energy repulsion?”
“Hey, hey,” Tony interrupted. “You can ask the kid later, Stretch. For now—” his faceplate slid shut, “—we need to close that damn portal.”
