Marvel: A Journey Begins From the Zombieverse

Angels, falcons, and other flying zombies were steadily approaching Doom Fortress. Their torn wings flapped as they glided through the air, emitting low, guttural screeches.

"Charge! No landmines in the sky. Let those ground crawlers trip the mines; we'll feast first!"

Several missiles streaked across the night sky, their fiery tails painting vivid trails. Locked onto the angels and Falcons, the missiles struck with unerring precision.

A series of deafening explosions followed. Flames burst forth, and thick smoke billowed. The missiles obliterated the flying zombies, scattering their shattered remains across the ground.

More fiery blasts and searing shockwaves engulfed vultures and other airborne zombies, incinerating them instantly. Their wails of agony echoed briefly before fading.

Meanwhile, Thor had already descended the stairs, joining others to prepare for a ground-level defense against the zombies.

Watching the aerial chaos unfold, Noah White remained impassive. He withdrew the Book of Death, his gaze flickering toward the burning hearth nearby. The firelight danced, casting reddish hues against the walls.

Gently stroking the book's rough gray cover, he said, "Open your eyes. I know you can hear me."

The Book of Death emanated a chilling aura. With a soft "pop," two slits appeared on the cover, revealing crimson, pupil-less eyes.

Below the slits, a grotesque mouth lined with sharp teeth grinned widely. "What now? Williams too afraid to face me? Sent you instead, some nameless pawn?"

"Ash Williams is dead," Noah said, his voice calm, his gaze locked on the book's blood-red eyes.

This book was no ordinary artifact. Possessing sentience and a twisted consciousness, it delighted in tormenting others. Its cover was human skin, and its pages were inscribed with sinister spells in human blood—a truly cursed object.

The Book of Death laughed maniacally, the mouth on its cover stretching grotesquely. "Oh? Ha! Good riddance! Shame he won't stay dead. So, what do you want? Hmm? Did Williams tell you I can save this world?"

The red eyes narrowed, and beneath them, a wrinkled little nose emerged.

"Save you?" Noah sneered, moving closer to the hearth, feeling the heat on his face. "It's you who should be begging me."

Without hesitation, Noah tore a page from the book. Each page was inked with blood, its characters exuding malevolent energy. As he fed the page to the fire, the flames surged, crackling louder.

Every time a page burned, the Book of Death shrieked in pain, its anguished cries reverberating throughout the room.

"You lunatic! Stop! Don't you know what I represent? How many have sought me, only to fail?!"

Noah ignored the protests, methodically tearing more pages. "You think being a book makes you untouchable? Your skin is human. Your ink is blood. Your pages…" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know, but they're probably worse."

He tossed another page into the fire.

"When those zombies breach the castle and devour everyone, they'll come for you next. And guess what? You'll look like dessert to them."

The book's screams grew frantic. Unable to bear the pain, it finally howled, "Enough! Enough! I yield! Just stop tearing me apart!"

"Good." Noah smirked, ceasing his assault but stepping closer to the fire, letting the heat lick at the book's cover.

"Too close!" the red eyes glared, the grotesque nose wrinkling in fear.

"Here's the deal: those zombies out there want to eat me and use you as a snack. Our interests align. We both need to escape this world. There's a portal downstairs. I can take you with me."

"You think I trust your hollow promises? Humans are deceitful, fragile creatures, willing to do anything to survive."

Noah pondered the rebuttal, then unclasped the pendant from his neck and held it up. "Forget the past or the future; I swear on Vishanti that today, I will not lie to anyone."

The book's crimson eyes narrowed as it weighed the oath. The pendant bore the seal of the Sanctum, marking Noah as a sorcerer. Among sorcerers, oaths to deities were unbreakable, as the consequences were severe.

"If you're swearing to Vishanti," the Book of Death said slowly, "then I'll assume you're not lying. What's your plan?"

At that moment, outside the fort, the remaining zombie heroes charged toward the stronghold. A massive black cloud suddenly descended from the sky, enveloping them in a dense, eerie fog.

"What the hell is that? Your doing, Storm?" Black Bolt froze, staring warily at the ominous cloud.

Storm, equally bewildered, shook her head. "No idea! It's not me. I can't control it!"

From within the black cloud came guttural growls and moans, as though countless spirits were trapped within, screaming in torment. Shadows twisted inside, forming distorted figures.

Colonel America scoffed, his sharp gaze scanning the dark mist. "It's some trick by Strange or Doom. They're out of options! Keep charging! I dare anyone to stop!"

But as he barked his orders, the shadows in the mist solidified. Humanoid shapes emerged, their faces grotesquely twisted, radiating an oppressive, malevolent aura.

Dozens of decayed, white hands shot out from the fog, grabbing Daredevil as he crawled forward.

"Help! What is this?!" Daredevil screamed. "Steve! Help me!"

The rotting hands twitched and writhed like blackened tendrils, pulling him deeper into the cloud. Lifeless and reeking of decay, they dragged Daredevil into the darkness.

Blood sprayed from the fog, splattering onto the ground as Daredevil's screams abruptly ceased.