Chapter 35: Chapter 35. The Calamity and The King

The dimly lit chamber of the cultists' secret base was filled with smoke and debris, the aftermath of a fierce assault. The portal they had been so desperately created was now destroyed, its energy dissipating into nothingness.

The leader of the cultists stared in disbelief at the carnage, his voice trembling with rage. "Our work... decades of preparation... ruined! Who dares?!"

Amidst the chaos, Peter Parker emerged from the shadows, his suit dark and battle-worn. This wasn't the wisecracking, lighthearted Spider-Man everyone knew—this was a man who had reached his limit.

Peter's movements were swift and calculated as he slammed a webbed fist into the cultists member, sending them sprawling against the wall. "You thought you could summon hell in the middle of New York and get away with it?" His voice was cold, devoid of its usual humor.

Black Cat, perched elegantly on a fallen pillar, watched Peter with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Spidey," she called out, her whip coiled loosely in her hand, "you're usually all quips and banter. What's with this... intensity?"

Peter didn't answer. Instead, he fired a web at a fleeing cultist, yanking them back before they could reach the exit. His strike was precise, brutal, leaving the cultist unconscious on the floor.

"Wow," Black Cat muttered, jumping down beside him. "You're not holding back at all, are you? This isn't like you."

The cult leader coughed, glaring up at him. "You think you've won? Destroy me, and others will rise in my place. The Burning Legion will return!"

Peter didn't reply. He raised his arm, and the soft hum of his suit's laser charging filled the chamber.

Black Cat's eyes widened in shock. "Spidey!" she yelled, rushing toward him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Peter's voice was icy, his gaze locked on the cultist. "This guy is responsible for countless lives lost. If I let him go, he'll just keep spreading his poison. Someone like this doesn't deserve another chance."

The cult leader chuckled weakly, seemingly unafraid of his impending fate. "Yes... do it, Spider-Man. Prove you're no better than me."

Peter's finger hovered over the trigger.

Before he could fire, Black Cat grabbed his arm, forcing it downward. The laser scorched the floor instead, leaving a molten mark.

"Stop!" she shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Peter turned to her, his face shadowed by anger.

"Black Cat, let go."

"No." Her grip on his arm tightened. "This isn't you. You don't kill people—no matter how much they deserve it."

"He doesn't deserve to walk away from this," Peter snapped, his voice breaking. "How many lives do you think he's destroyed? How many families are grieving because of him?"

Baobhan Sith clapped her hands, clearly amused. "My, my, Spider darling, you're much more interesting when you're angry."

Felicia's expression softened, and she stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest.

"I know. I know you're angry. But if you cross this line, you'll never come back from it."

Peter's breathing slowed as Black Cat words sank in. His arm trembled, the laser's glow dimmed as he powered it down.

The cult leader sneered. "Pathetic. No wonder they call you the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

Felicia rolled her eyes and delivered a swift kick to the cultist's face, knocking him. "And you're the reason cultists have such bad PR," she muttered.

Peter stood over the cult leader, his shadow stretching across the rubble-strewn floor. The air buzzed with tension as his spider suit pulsed with barely contained energy. The cult leader, battered but unbroken, leaned against a shattered column, his mouth curling into an unnerving grin.

"Why?" Peter asked, his voice low and strained, his fists clenched tightly. "Why summon something like the Burning Legion? Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused?"

The cult leader chuckled, his eyes glinting with malice.

"Why?" he echoed mockingly. "Because this world is boring."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "What?"

The cult leader straightened slightly, his smile growing. "This world… this dull, stagnant existence… it disgusts me. No real power, no real freedom. Just rules and order strangling everything. I wanted chaos, Spider-Man. Anarchy. Power beyond comprehension. And you know what?"

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that was no less venomous. "I'd do it all again. In fact, next time, I'll make sure to target you. Your friends. Your family. Everyone you care about. You'll watch them burn, and it'll be glorious."

The cult leader's words struck a nerve deep inside Peter. His hands shook, his breathing grew heavier, and the glow of his suit darkened into a crimson hue.

"Spidey," Black Cat said cautiously, stepping toward him. "Don't—"

But Peter didn't listen. The rage that had been simmering finally boiled over. He raised his arm, and a searing laser beam erupted from his suit. The cult leader's smile faltered for only a second before he was engulfed in the blinding light, his scream cut short as he was reduced to ash.

The room fell silent.

Black Cat's eyes widened in disbelief. "Spidey… what did you do?" she whispered.

Peter turned to her, his expression hollow yet resolute. "He made his choice," he said flatly.

Black Cat took a step back, her usual playful demeanor gone. "This isn't you, Spidey. This isn't the guy I…" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "You don't kill, no matter how evil they are."

Baobhan Sith stepped forward, her parasol resting casually on her shoulder. She was unbothered, even delighted, by the spectacle. "Oh, finally!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with approval. "Master, You've finally shed that pesky hero complex."

Black Cat shot her a glare. "Are you serious? He just—"

"Destroyed evil," Baobhan Sith interrupted, her tone light but cutting. "Something you wouldn't have the stomach for, kitty."

Peter looked at the ashes, then back at Black Cat and Baobhan Sith. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his body betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I did what had to be done," he said, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.

Black Cat threw up her hands, turning away. "Fine. You made your choice. But don't expect me to stand here and pretend this is okay." She stormed off, pausing only to glance back at him with a mix of anger and disappointment. "I hope you know what you're doing, Spidey."

Baobhan Sith chuckled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "She'll come around. They always do."

Peter didn't respond. He simply turned toward the remnants of the cult's base, the weight of his actions pressing heavily on his shoulders.

•

The Dimensional Gate crumbled into nothingness, its ominous glow extinguished. The battlefield fell silent for a brief moment, the air heavy with the aftermath of chaos. Soldiers cheered, their victory cries echoing across the ruined city. The hero among them stood tall, his aura radiating triumph.

Doctor Strange, battered but still standing, watched Patronus with a mix of awe and disbelief.

But their relief was short-lived.

"PATRONUS!!!"

The furious roar of Dek'sada shattered the brief peace. Dark red energy surged from his form, a torrent of raw malevolence that seemed to twist reality itself. The chains Doctor Strange had conjured around him cracked and then exploded into shards of ethereal light, sending Strange flying through the air. He crashed into a nearby building, the impact creating a crater of rubble.

Patronus turned to face Dek'sada, his expression calm but resolute. He stepped forward, the faint glow of his Hopushin Rikudou Mode illuminating the area like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.

"It's over, Dek'sada," Patronus said, his voice steady and firm. "Whatever dark plans you had, they're done. The gate is destroyed, and your path to this world is sealed."

Dek'sada sneered, his eyes blazing with hatred. "You think this is over?" he spat, his voice a guttural growl. "I will make you suffer for this, boy. I will savor your screams, tear the flesh from your bones, and bathe in your blood!"

The air grew heavier as the two figures locked eyes, each radiating power and determination. The stage was set for their final clash.

•

Far from the battlefield, hidden in the shadows of the cosmos, another presence watched the events unfold. Azgalor, the Underlord, loomed over a swirling vortex of darkness, his massive form exuding an aura of dread. His green eyes burned with a sinister light as he observed the confrontation with growing disdain.

"Someone... destroyed the portal?" Azgalor's deep voice rumbled, the weight of his words shaking the void around him. His clawed hand clenched tightly, the sharp talons scraping against each other in frustration. "This is unexpected. A minor setback, nothing more."

Azgalor leaned closer to the vortex, his dark gaze focusing on the figure of Patronus. "So... this is the one who dares to stand against the Burning Legion."

A low growl rumbled from the Underlord's throat, his anger barely contained. Yet beneath his fury, a glimmer of curiosity lingered.

"Patronus... I will remember that name," Azgalor said, his voice a venomous promise. "Nothing will stop us. Nothing will slow our march. And when we arrive..."

He leaned back into the shadows, his towering form vanishing into the abyss, leaving only his voice to echo in the void.

"...all will burn."

•

On the battlefield, Patronus and Dek'sada stood only a few paces apart. The ground beneath them trembled as their auras collided, the sheer force of their power making the air crackle with energy.

"I'm not afraid of you," Patronus said, his grip tightening on his blade. His Truth-Seeking Orbs hovered ominously behind him, glowing with divine light.

Dek'sada's lips curled into a wicked grin, his claws crackling with malevolent energy. "Good. Fear is for the weak. I want to see how long that courage of yours lasts once I start tearing you apart."

Without another word, the two charged at each other, their clash shaking the very foundation of the world.

•

The five warriors unleashed all their might against the towering Undead Dragon. Blades clashed, energy blasts erupted, and divine lightning crackled, but the beast refused to fall. Every time they struck it down, its grotesque form regenerated, piecing itself back together as though mocking their efforts.

"This is pointless!" Captain Marvel shouted, frustration dripping from her voice as she blasted the dragon again, only to see its charred body mend itself. "If this keeps up, we're just going to tire ourselves out."

Nearby, Satria darted between blows, his speed outmatching the hulking Doom Guard pursuing him. "Focus!" he yelled, dodging another swing. "We don't have time to think about the dragon—take care of what's in front of you!"

With that, he vibrated his fists, channeling powerful energy through his knuckles, a technique inspired by a certain world government secret agent.

"RAKOUGAN!"

A devastating shockwave burst from his fists, hitting the Doom Guard head-on. The colossal demon was sent hurtling backward, smashing through debris, its body crumpling as shockwaves rippled through it.

Satria stumbled and coughed up blood, his body trembling from the strain. But to his dismay, the Doom Guard's wounds began closing, its regeneration almost as relentless as the dragon's.

[Fatalis: Brother... What are you going to do? You're already at your limit]

"I..." Satria faltered, his breathing ragged. His body screamed in protest, the strain of the battle taking its toll. Before he could finish his thought, his consciousness slipped, plunging him into a void.

The world around him dissolved into darkness, and he found himself standing in an unfamiliar realm. The air was thick, heavy with a sense of dread. Above him loomed a sky devoid of stars, while the ground beneath his feet shimmered like molten obsidian, glowing faintly with crimson cracks.

"What... Where am I?" Satria muttered, spinning around.

As he wandered, he spotted a massive cave. A strange whistling echoed from within, like the howling of a storm.

"Suspicious," he said to himself, grinning. "Well, let's do this." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Permisi, kak! Paket COD-nya udah sampai atas nama kakak Fatalis!"

A deep, menacing growl answered him. "Silence, mortal, and come closer."

Satria entered the cave and found himself face-to-face with a colossal black dragon, chained and radiating malice.

"You look cool, Neet Dragon," Satria said, his tone casual as he winked. "How about we—"

"Silence!" the dragon roared, glaring at him. "I am the true essence of Fatalis, the one you've relied on for power. What you've known so far is but a fragment of me—a shadow of what I am."

"LOL," Satria muttered, his tone half-joking. "So you're saying I've been working with the diet version this whole time?"

Fatalis's lips curled into what might have been a smirk. "You're amusing, human. But this is no time for your humor. You stand at the brink of death, and the enemy you face is far beyond your current strength."

"Yup! How about you help me then?"

The dragon's fiery eyes bore into him. "You seek my power. Will you accept me and destroy everything that opposes us?"

Satria crossed his arms, smirking. "Is that a marriage proposal? Sorry, but you'll need permission from Kiyohime and the White Dragon Princess first."

"You fool," the dragon snapped, her voice tinged with an almost tsundere irritation. "Do you accept it or not?"

"Listen," Satria said, stepping closer. "I don't destroy for no reason. I protect the people who matter to me—including you, Neet Dragon."

The dragon hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "Protect...? You're an idiot."

"Maybe. But I'm your idiot."

The dragon huffed, clearly flustered. "Fine. Take my power. But if you misuse it, I'll devour you myself." She pricked her claw and let a single drop of blood fall onto his forehead.

Suddenly, the realm shifted around Satria, and he found himself in a memory—a battlefield strewn with the bodies of his loved ones. The cries of despair and the stench of death filled the air.

"What is this?" Satria asked.

"This is your fear," Fatalis's voice echoed. "Your weakness. You must confront it, or these chains will never break."

One by one, familiar faces appeared before him—Kiyohime, Valiana, his family, and countless others. They all stared at him with lifeless eyes, their expressions frozen in pain and betrayal.

"You couldn't save us," a voice whispered. "You failed."

But Satria... he smirked.

"Do you think I'm going to start trembling and crying because of this?" His voice cut through the chaos like a blade. His eyes locked onto Fatalis, unwavering, brimming with defiance.

Fatalis tilted her massive head, her crimson gaze narrowing. "You face the weight of your failures, the shadow of what you could become. Most mortals would break under such pressure. What makes you so different?"

Satria stepped forward, his boots cracking the molten ground beneath him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his cocky smirk never faltering. "Different? Who do you think I am? I'm not the kind of guy who falls apart because of a little doom-and-gloom show."

The shadowy memories writhed around him, the specters of the people he loved reaching out with accusatory fingers. "You failed us," their ghostly voices whispered.

"Blah, blah, blah," Satria interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "You think this is going to shake me? You have no idea what I'm made of, Fatalis." He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "I've been through worse. I've faced death, and impossible odds before breakfast. I'm still standing because I'm too damn stubborn to quit."

The vision of his twisted, dark self reappeared, smirking cruelly at him from atop a mountain of corpses.

Satria scoffed, pointing a finger at it. "And you—seriously? That's supposed to scare me? Bro, you look like an edgy teenager who shops exclusively at 'Villains R Us.' Get out of here with that cheap cosplay."

Fatalis blinked, taken aback by his audacity. "You're mocking the manifestation of your darkest potential?"

"Mocking it? No, no," Satria said, grinning wider. "I'm roasting it. Look, if that's supposed to be my dark side, I'm honestly disappointed. You'd think with all the drama you've got going on here, I'd at least get a cool cloak or something."

The oppressive atmosphere of the mindscape began to waver, cracks forming in the illusions as Satria's unshakable confidence tore through them.

Fatalis stared at him in stunned silence for a moment before her lips curled into a draconic smile. "You are either the bravest fool I've ever encountered... or the most foolishly brave."

"Pick one," Satria replied, flashing her a thumbs-up.

The massive dragon let out a deep, rumbling laugh that reverberated through the realm. "You truly are an anomaly, human. Fine. If you can face your fears without flinching, then perhaps you are worthy."

The chains binding Fatalis's True Form began to crack, fragments falling away with an echo like thunder.

"But heed this, mortal," Fatalis warned as the last of the chains shattered. "My power is not a gift—it is a burden. To wield it, you must accept all that I am, including the darkness."

Satria crossed his arms, his smirk softening into a confident grin. "Fatalis, you've been with me this whole time. The good, the bad, the terrifying—you're a part of me. I'm not here to reject you or control you. I'm here to fight with you."

As the energy from Fatalis surged through Satria, he stood at the precipice of power, his mindscape swirling with darkness. Fatalis's True Form, now unchained, loomed above him like an ancient, unstoppable force. Her fiery red eyes locked onto his with an intensity that could burn through the very fabric of reality.

"Repeat after me," she commanded, her voice echoing in the depths of his mind.

Satria stood tall, brimming with newfound strength. "Yeah, what's next?"

"'Nothingness is my Domain.'" Fatalis's voice was cold, commanding, yet there was a flicker of something almost... amused within her tone.

Satria smirked, his voice unwavering as he spoke the words. "Nothingness is my Domain."

"'Annihilation is my Purpose.'" Her words resonated like a death knell, and the air around them seemed to tremble.

Satria's eyes glinted with determination. "Annihilation is my Purpose."

"'Destruction is my Dream.'" Fatalis's voice was like a whisper of the void itself, carrying with it the weight of eternal destruction.

Satria's smirk grew, his voice booming with certainty and power as he spoke the final part. "Destruction is my Dream."

With those final words, an overwhelming surge of dark power consumed him, and the reality of the mindscape began to fracture around him.

Back in the real world, Satria's body convulsed, black energy swirling around him. When the transformation was complete, he stood taller, his presence radiating power. His once-boyish charm had been replaced with princely elegance, his new form almost too perfect.

Captain Marvel stared, her cheeks turning red. "Well, hello, tall, young, and handsome..."

Thor, still engaged in combat, glanced at Satria. "What happened to you, boy?"

Satria smirked. "Let's end this."

He pulled out a new card and inserted it into his Dragvisor.

{Final Vent}

A massive black dragon materialized behind him, its roar shaking the battlefield.

"Yo, Fatalis," Satria said. "Ready to show them what we can do?"

"Absolutely," she replied, her tone gleeful.

Satria launched himself into the air, vibrating at high speed as Fatalis unleashed a devastating blast of fire. His Rider Kick combined with her firepower, creating an overwhelming wave of destruction. The Doom Guard disintegrated into ash, the sheer force of their attack leaving a molten crater in the ground.

As the flames subsided, Satria stood amidst the smoldering battlefield.

"That was fun," Fatalis said cheerfully before returning to Satria's body.

"Yeah," Satria replied, grinning. "But let's not make this a habit."

Artoria POV

"Amazing," Captain Marvel muttered, her voice laced with awe as she watched Satria battle. His abilities, his technique, the sheer mastery over his form—everything about him was honed and precise.

"Yep, that kid's definitely got what it takes to be a hero around here," Hercules added, his voice filled with admiration as he observed Satria's relentless attacks.

Artoria, standing at the edge of the chaos, surveyed the battlefield with a calm but focused demeanor. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, her hand clutching the hilt of Excalibur. "Now, it's time to end this."

The air seemed to still for a moment as Artoria sword began to shine with a blinding brilliance, illuminating the darkened battlefield. The light that emanated from the blade wasn't just light—it was something more. The very essence of the legend itself, the embodiment of an undefeated king's will.

Thor eyes widened in disbelief. "It can't be... that weapon? Who are you?"

Artoria turned to face him, her gaze calm yet firm. "I am Saber, the servant summoned in Chaldea to protect humanity from extinction. And this is the Sword of Promised Victory."

Satria, standing nearby, smirked as he watched the buildup. "Finally, she lets out her trump card."

"Excalibur, the True Excalibur," Fatalis said, a note of anticipation in her voice. "It's even more impressive in person."

Captain Marvel, for the first time since arriving on this battlefield, found herself speechless. "That's... that's so beautiful," she whispered. She had never seen anything like it—a weapon of such sheer power, a king's promise of victory made manifest.

From Excalibur's blade, golden particles began to swirl into the air, the very essence of all the warriors who had fought before them—those lost in past battles, those still fighting in the present, and those yet to come. Their will, their memories, all infused into the light.

Artoria held the sword high, carrying the weight of countless lives and aspirations. She could feel their presence—mournful, proud, and steadfast. This was the will of all who had fought for what was right, and now it was her responsibility to bring it to fruition.

She spoke the name aloud, her voice ringing with conviction.

"Excalibur!!!"

The moment the blade made contact with the Undead Dragon, the world seemed to halt. There was a flash of light, blinding and all-consuming, and then—nothing. The Undead Dragon, once a terrifying force of death, was gone in an instant, reduced to nothingness by the overwhelming power of Excalibur.

The battlefield fell silent.

Satria stood still, watching the aftermath with a satisfied grin. "We've done it. For now..." He turned to Artoria, the power she wielded still palpable in the air. "But there's something bigger on the horizon, isn't there?"

Artoria's eyes remained fixed on the certain spot, her expression unreadable. "Yes. The true threat is still out there."

To be continued.