Chapter 11: chapter 11
From the moment the helicopter was shot down, it felt as if someone had hit the start button on chaos. Explosions erupted rapidly across New York.
The skies above the city turned into a maelstrom of thick black smoke, with flames dancing along building exteriors and sending up columns of fire. The sounds of sirens, mingled with panicked screams, combined to form a symphony of disaster.
The explosions echoed continuously through the city streets, like thunder in people's ears. Flames and thick smoke filled the air, darkening the day and painting the sky a menacing red.
"Oh my God, I've never seen New York like this… not even during the Skrull invasion."
Pietro, lying injured and carried on someone's shoulder, looked up at a nearby office building collapsing about a hundred meters away. He could hear faint screams from inside. Usually, he would've dashed in to help, but his injured leg made it impossible. Besides, something felt wrong in the air.
Fighting villains used to be so different. Heroes would win, villains would escape or get locked away, and everyone would start fresh. But today, the world was crumbling, and everything felt twisted. Now Mystique—someone Pietro didn't know well, yet felt pity for—was infected, transformed into a monster.
"Can we actually make it through this?" Quicksilver asked the man carrying him, realizing this stranger had an uncanny sense of foresight.
"It's hard to say," Adrian replied, his tone grave. Though he'd managed to keep Quicksilver from turning, there was no guarantee it would last.
Adrian's goal wasn't to eradicate the zombie virus but to slow its spread enough for him to find a way out. He needed the world to hold itself together for a little while longer.
But just then, Adrian felt an overwhelming force pressing down on his mind, a pressure so intense it felt as if his skull was being crushed.
"Ahh!" he groaned in pain, his voice trembling. His vision went red as blood vessels burst in his eyes, pain shooting through his head like needles. He raised a shaking hand to his forehead, trying in vain to ease the pressure.
It was no use. His breath became tinted with red, like a faint mist of blood with every exhale. The strange, almost supernatural phenomenon left him stunned. Was this some form of reaction, a sign of his powers backfiring? Or was something else happening to his body? Adrian's mind raced for answers, but only one possibility stood out.
"Wanda!" he yelled, fighting through the pain. "I know it's you! If you don't want Pietro to die, stop crushing my head!"
At his shout, the suffocating pressure lifted as suddenly as it had come, as if an invisible barrier had shattered. Adrian gasped, drenched in sweat, his body aching from the strain.
As he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, he saw Scarlet Witch emerge from around the corner. She was visibly relieved, but guilt flickered in her eyes as she realized her mistake.
"I'm so sorry! I thought you were a zombie trying to take Pietro away!" she said, her voice heavy with regret.
Adrian forced a tired smile, realizing his decision to carry Pietro had nearly cost him his life.
"Wanda! I'm so glad you're okay—I thought you'd been infected too!" Pietro shouted happily from Adrian's shoulder.
"Let me look at that leg," Wanda replied, her concern evident as she used her powers to start untying the makeshift bandage around Pietro's injury.
"No, wait, Wanda, listen to me," Pietro urged. He explained everything—his injury, Mystique's transformation, and what he'd seen so far. Then he asked, "Wanda, what happened to the Avengers? We need to contact them!"
Hearing the name "Avengers," Wanda's eyes welled with tears. She bit her lip, fighting to keep her composure, but her voice broke.
"The Colonel sent an SOS to the Avengers hotline, calling everyone to headquarters. But he… he was one of the first infected." Her voice trembled as she continued, "Before we realized it, most of the team… She-Hulk, Hercules, Iron Fist… they were all infected."
Her words were choked with emotion. Pietro didn't know how to comfort her; he had been spared the worst, shielded by Adrian since the start of the outbreak.
Suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw buzzed from behind Wanda. A man with brown hair, wearing overalls and holding a chainsaw, emerged.
"Hey! Why the long faces? I'm Ash Williams, and I say we can still fix this!" He grinned, seemingly unbothered by the chaos around him.
Adrian squinted, instantly recognizing him—the protagonist of Evil Dead, known for jumping between worlds and causing trouble wherever he went.
Ash was here, in the Zombie Universe. And, as always, trouble was bound to follow.
🛡️Ronin 🛡️
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