Kapitel 14: The Weight of Power
Hello, Dear Readers.
Before we begin the chapter, I'd like to ask for your opinion on how you are liking the story so far. If you have any issues with the story, please do share.
And I'd also appreciate some powerstones, please.
Peace.
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Rebecca leaned against the wall, catching her breath as a nurse wrapped a bandage around her arm. The chaos around her was surreal—emergency crews swarmed the area, tending to the wounded while sirens blared in the distance. The wreckage left by the fight between Shazam and Elias Kain was everywhere, and she couldn't help but think of the repair bills piling up. James barely had enough in his savings for rent; he was no Tony Stark. However, she was more worried about the mental strain he would put himself in after this.
She sighed, trying to process it all. "Just another day in the city," she muttered to herself, sarcasm dripping from her words.
As she glanced at the mess, a group of men in sharp black suits approached her. One of them looked familiar—the cop who had introduced himself as Chris Brody—the cop who had questioned her about Elias in the temple before. She remembered how he had seemed too keen, too interested in her investigation, and now that suspicion flared anew.
"Ms. Martinez," he said, his tone dripping with false cordiality. "We meet again." He gestured for his companions to stay back while he took the lead, his expression shifting from casual to serious.
Rebecca straightened, instinctively on guard. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that," she replied. "What do you want?"
"Just some information." His gaze sharpened. "We need to know what you saw. Did you have any prior knowledge of Kain's intentions? Was he here looking for something specific?"
"I don't know anything about Elias Kain," Rebecca retorted, her defences flaring up. "I've been focused on investigating disappearances, not getting tangled in some bizarre superhero saga."
"Witnesses say otherwise," he pressed, not letting her off the hook. "We have reports of a massive energy surge and an individual getting struck by lightning. We know you were there."
Rebecca's heart raced. She couldn't reveal anything about James—not now. "Look, I don't know anything. I just got caught up in the chaos. People need help, and I—"
"We have footage that might help you remember." Before she could finish, 'Brody' pulled out a device and played a clip that made her stomach drop.
The footage was shaky at first, but it quickly focused on James, struggling in Kain's grasp. Rebecca's heart sank as she saw herself in the video, desperately trying to pull James free. Then Kain's arm lashed out, sending her crashing against the wall, pain radiating through her body just from watching it. The clip ended abruptly as lightning struck James, illuminating the scene in a blinding flash before everything cut to static.
"Does this look familiar?" Coulson asked, his gaze steady as he studied her reaction.
"I told you, I have no idea what you're talking about," Rebecca said, her voice tight as she struggled to stay composed. "T-Those are some pretty impressive visual effects you've got there."
"Right, let's not do this," he said, clearly unconvinced. "You must understand the seriousness of this situation. We need your cooperation. Kain is dangerous, and he's definitely after something."
"Who are you?" she demanded, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. "Why should I tell you anything?"
Coulson adjusted his stance, the casual air giving way to something more professional. "Let's start over, shall we?" he said with a polite but deliberate tone. "My name is Phil Coulson, and I'm an Agent of SHIELD."
Rebecca crossed her arms. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"
"Just that we're the good guys," Coulson replied evenly, his gaze steady but not unkind.
Rebecca didn't flinch, but her mind raced. She could already tell this was going somewhere she wouldn't like.
Coulson continued without missing a beat. "We ran a facial recognition scan on the man shown in this footage. His name is James Carter—a part-time employee at Tech Haven, still working on his degree. Born and raised in New York." He gave her a brief glance, as if weighing her reaction. "And, according to what I can see, he's your friend."
Rebecca's heart pounded, but she forced herself to keep a straight face. "Okay," she said carefully. "And?"
Coulson raised a brow. "And we also know that for some reason, your friend can transform into a being with god-like powers."
Rebecca exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. "That's a pretty wild theory, Agent Coulson."
Coulson gave a small, nonchalant shrug. "It's been that kind of week." He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to sound earnest. "Look, Ms. Martinez, I don't think you're the bad guy here. But someone very dangerous is hunting James—and by extension, you. If we don't figure this out, things could get a lot worse."
Rebecca glanced at the rescue teams working around them, her worry bubbling under the surface. "What exactly do you want from me?"
"I want to help you find him," Coulson said simply. "But I need you to be straight with me. Anything you know—anything at all—could make the difference."
Rebecca chewed the inside of her cheek, torn between protecting James and the growing sense that they were running out of time. "What if I don't know where he is?"
Coulson's expression softened, though his voice remained steady. "Then let us help you find him. Because if we don't, someone else will."
He handed her his card, the simple SHIELD emblem embossed on it. "We don't have to be enemies here, Ms. Martinez. But make no mistake—James is in the middle of something much bigger than you realize."
Rebecca stared at the card in her hand, the weight of Coulson's words sinking in. She didn't trust him—not one bit. But she knew one thing for sure: she had to find James. Wherever he was.
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Chapter: The Weight of Power
The world twisted violently around James, blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors that bled into inky darkness. Shapes reassembled in a way that felt disturbingly familiar, making him feel as if he had been yanked from one reality and hurled into another. His stomach lurched, his knees buckling. When his vision finally cleared, he recognized the towering statues and glowing carvings of the cave—the Sanctuary of the Council of Power. The ancient figures stood like silent judges, watching over him with stony detachment.
A sharp crack of lightning echoed in the cavern. James's Shazam form evaporated like mist, leaving him as just James Carter again—bruised, exhausted, and humiliated. Every ache in his body seemed to carry the weight of his failure, and it was a heavy weight indeed. He sank to his knees, chest heaving, fists trembling at his sides. The fight with Elias Kain replayed in his mind, a brutal sequence of attacks and counterattacks that ended with him lying face down on a cracked street. He had lost—and badly.
"I blew it," he muttered bitterly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Before the sting of failure could drag him deeper into self-pity, a shadow moved at the edge of his vision. Elaria, the Guardian of the Sanctuary, stepped into the faint, ethereal glow of the carvings, her expression a mixture of disappointment and caution. The flickering light reflected in her dark eyes, giving her an otherworldly presence—equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying.
"That was reckless," she snapped, her voice sharp as steel. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The danger you invited?"
James looked up at her, his frustration flaring. "I tried, okay? He was too strong. What was I supposed to do? Run away?"
Elaria's expression hardened, her gaze cutting through his defenses like a blade. "You should've controlled yourself."
Before James could argue, Elaria raised her hand and placed it gently against his chest.
Suddenly, the world fragmented. The cave vanished, replaced by rapid, vivid flashes—visions that slammed into him like waves. He saw the fight with Elias again, but this time from the outside. His attacks, fueled by anger and desperation, weren't just hitting his enemy—they were wreaking havoc around him. He saw himself shattering streets, toppling cars, sending windows exploding outward with shockwaves of uncontrolled power.
And the worst part? The people.
A mother pulling her child from the path of falling debris. A young couple nearly crushed by a collapsing streetlight. Strangers hurled into chaos—not because of Elias's dark magic, but because of him.
The visions ended abruptly, and James stumbled backward, gasping for air as if he had been held underwater. His heart thundered in his chest, not from exertion, but from guilt. His fists clenched at his sides as the harsh truth settled in. He hadn't just fought Elias—he'd fought his own anger. And people almost paid the price for it.
Elaria lowered her hand, her voice softer but no less stern. "This power isn't a weapon you can wield without thought. It's more than strength—it's responsibility. Strength without control is nothing but destruction."
James pressed his hands against his face, overwhelmed. "I didn't mean to. I just… I wasn't thinking straight."
"That," Elaria said quietly, "is why you failed."
He dropped his hands and looked at her, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I couldn't beat him. It was like he knew everything I was going to do. How do I fight someone like that?"
Elaria sat beside him, folding her hands in her lap, her tone measured. "Because Elias Kain isn't just a fighter—he's a master of the Mystic Arts. And that makes him more dangerous than you realize."
James blinked, confused. "Mystic Arts? You mean, like… magic?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Elaria's lips. "Not exactly. But close." She raised her hand, tracing intricate shapes in the air. Faint trails of glowing light followed her fingers, swirling briefly before fading into nothingness.
"The mystic arts are about harnessing energy—forces that exist across dimensions and realities," she explained. "It's not about conjuring tricks or spells. Think of it like… tapping into the underlying code of the universe. We don't create power from thin air; we borrow energy from other realms—the Dark Dimension, the Astral Plane, the Mirror Dimension. Then we use that energy to shape the world around us."
She gestured to the Sanctuary. "That's how I brought you here."
James frowned, trying to make sense of it all. "So… it's like having access to cheat codes for reality?"
Elaria chuckled softly. "In a way, yes. But it takes years of discipline to master it. Control is everything. Without it, even the smallest mistake can unravel reality—or worse."
James shifted uneasily. "And Elias… he knows all of this?"
Elaria's smile faded, her expression darkening. "He was once a sorcerer like me. Talented, ambitious, but reckless. He excelled faster than most, but his desire for power outgrew his discipline. When the orb in this sanctuary rejected him, it left more than a scar on his body—it twisted his soul."
James's brow furrowed. "And now he's obsessed with taking my powers."
Elaria nodded grimly. "Yes. And his obsession led him to the Heart of Typhon."
James tensed. "What's the Heart of Typhon?"
Elaria's voice dropped to a grim whisper. "It's an ancient relic—an artifact forged from chaotic, primordial forces. It amplifies power, corrupts it, and consumes it. The Heart doesn't just give strength—it takes control. It's so dangerous that it was buried deep beneath the earth, meant to be forgotten forever."
"And Elias found it," James muttered, dread settling in his gut.
"Yes," Elaria said. "With the Heart, his mystic abilities are amplified beyond anything a normal sorcerer could achieve. If he manages to steal your powers and channel them through the Heart…" She trailed off, her expression heavy with meaning. "He'll become something far worse than we can imagine."
James exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "So I have to stop him… before he takes my powers."
Elaria nodded. "And that means mastering control—not just over your powers, but over yourself. This isn't just a battle of strength. It's a battle of will."
James leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. I've got a maniac sorcerer with a god-killing artifact after me. And I just proved I can't handle myself, let alone him." His voice dropped, tinged with self-doubt. "I can't do this. What if I lose again?"
Elaria placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression calm and reassuring. "You didn't lose because you weren't strong enough, James. You lost because you didn't trust yourself. The power of Shazam isn't just muscle and lightning—it's faith. In yourself."
James sighed, frustration flickering across his face. "That's easy for you to say."
Elaria smiled gently. "It's not easy for anyone. But you don't have to do this alone. I'll guide you." She gestured toward the towering statues, each representing a virtue embedded in his power. "You need to understand what these powers truly mean. Not just how to use them—but why you were given them."
James stared at the statues, the flickering light casting long shadows across his face. Despite the doubts swirling inside him, a flicker of hope ignited—small, but real.
"Alright," he said quietly, meeting Elaria's gaze. A determined smile tugged at his lips. "Let's do this."
Elaria's eyes gleamed with approval. "Then let's begin."
For the first time since the battle, James felt a spark—something beyond fear and guilt. Hope. And if Elias Kain wanted a fight, James was determined not to go down the same way twice.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein