Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1530 The Lunar War (Forty-Two)

Why did the Inhumans suffer such a disaster?

This problem had been troubling Black Bolt, consuming all his attention.

He had few clues. He didn't know where the inhuman Golden King came from, why that person was issuing a judgment against the Inhumans, whether His judgment on the Inhumans was correct, or even whether that person was qualified to do so. He admitted that Attilan had prepared for the arrival of the Dark Order, but mutated matter warheads were one of the last resorts. He had even prepared to deal with the legendary Dark Tyrant and decided to stand up to protect Attilan and even Earth—but he couldn't convince himself, couldn't deny that the human king's plan was wrong—if even he failed, then the Genetic Council would definitely launch mutated matter warheads at Earth. This was an undeniable tactic; after all, such proposals were made every time and had become a routine procedure.

"This isn't necessarily a bad thing," Black Bolt thought. He didn't even understand how a human king would know about such a confidential proposal. "If the human race is the target, then turning more Earthlings into Inhumans would strengthen the human race, wouldn't it? We'll eventually face the same enemy, so why kill each other?"

While he didn't share the Inhumans' view of humans as inferior, he similarly forgot that the reason commoner clans established special security forces targeting teenagers was precisely because of how dangerous Inhumans could be when they couldn't control their abilities. Even if he remembered, he could convince himself that humans had a way to solve this problem; after all, the Earth was so vast, and Attilan didn't offer Inhumans any space to grow freely.

"The human race is gradually eradicating the Kree mutant genes," said the golden human king. He seemed to see through Black Bolt's thoughts. "In a hundred years or so, the Inhumans will be completely extinct, and the former Kree war slaves will vanish into cosmic dust. Millions of years later, when humanity creates a more glorious civilization, the existence of the Inhumans will become a page in history books, recording evidence of the Kree Empire's genetic atrocities against humanity, eternally reminding the human race of the darkness and cruelty of this universe, leading the human race to the distant stars with a sense of vigilance."

"What right do you have to do this!" Blackcard Burt shouted in a dry throat. "What right do you have to be the Inhuman judge! The Inhumans bought their freedom with sacrifice; they are no longer slaves of the Kree. Our ancestors earned their freedom with their own hands, yet you still see us as slaves of aliens! Tell me, human king, is it the Inhumans or humanity that is prejudiced?"

The human king looked down into Blackcard Burtgan's eyes, and the latter sensed his emotions. It was an unbearable sorrow, an inexplicable guilt. Black Bolt didn't understand this emotion. He had never studied the empiricist philosophy penned by the many dynasties and philosophers of Earth. He never understood that waging war against Attilan was a political act, a case study establishing the future attitude of the human race towards intelligent extraterrestrial beings. The Inhumans themselves were an atrocity committed by alien beings against the human race. To resolve this historical legacy, one side—humanity or the Inhumans—must pay the price.

There are many kinds of costs, and the emperor chose the one with the least bloodshed: waging war.

"Because I failed to stop the Kree, because the Kree Empire created a biological weapon capable of controlling all Inhumans, because the ancestors of the Inhumans never truly gained freedom." The human king paused, as if about to utter some hurtful words: the Kree Empire created the Hive, the Kree Empire abandoned the Inhuman project because the war was nearing its end, the investment in the Inhuman experiments had resulted in huge losses but they had not cracked the Celestials' genetic engineering, and the ancestors of the Inhumans were abandoned as a liability.

He acknowledged the resistance of the Inhuman ancestors and therefore did not intend to inform Black Bolt of the cruel truth, even though He claimed that all Inhumans would remain slaves and the war would not end there. Although he couldn't understand the meaning of those words, Blackcard Burt suddenly felt a similar sentiment. He didn't know this was due to the Emperor's psychic power.

"Now you should leave, Blackcard Burtgan. Your courage and that of the Inhumans are commendable. Inform the Genetic Council of my decision. Civilians whose genetic mutations are within permissible limits may survive, but the atrocities committed by the Kree must be completely eradicated. Do not attempt to pollute the Earth's ecosystem, or the Inhumans will experience my wrath."

"My lord?"

"Sorry, Derrick. I've let your prey go."

The human king looked at the guards, who were covered in wounds but stood ramrod straight.

All the organic byproducts of extradimensional energy that grew in the shadows within the room vanished into smoke under the golden light. The annoying whispers disappeared, and even Derrick's wounds healed at an unprecedented rate. The human king's eyes were not focused on reality; he saw the terrifying being behind the veil moving pieces, abandoning the probing pawn—in the rules of chess, a pawn can be promoted to any piece on the opponent's back rank after being moved. Initially, only a pawn entered Attilan, but this piece had already promoted, attempting to devour the emperor's royal guard. His permission for Tetanus to take Black Bolt away, along with the Inhuman warriors who had miraculously survived Derrick's attack, was not only because he needed more messengers, as Emperor Basil II of Macedon had done to the Bulgarian soldiers, but also because he needed to keep the Inhumans, a highly sensitive psychic race, away from corruption, especially Black Bolt. He needs the Genetic Council to make the right choice, not to be corrupted and make choices according to the beings behind the veil.

Black Bolt had no intention of resisting and obediently left with his soldiers.

The Emperor nipped the rebellious thought in the bud, for the Aether Sea was a reflection of emotions, and the magic that manipulated emotions and thoughts was essentially modifying newly conceived, unformed ideas within it—not difficult for someone capable of manipulating extradimensional energy. The Inhuman warriors couldn't even look him in the eye, let alone entertain any thoughts of rebellion. He didn't do this often, but this time was different; He had to ensure Black Bolt returned to the Genetic Council unharmed so that He could continue his game with the gods.

“My pride is not wounded, my lord.” Derrick straightened his posture first, into the standard military posture of the Royal Guard. Although he had doubts about the Emperor's mission, he swore to obey the Emperor's orders and decisions without question. “Do you have any other tasks to perform?”

"Black Bolt Blackcard Burt still has a use; you will still have a chance to kill the enemy chieftain for me."

He planted the spear in his hand into the ground, and the bizarre spire that had been swaying between reality and illusion instantly stabilized. He could hear a strange, inhuman scream coming from somewhere in the darkness. Derrick had never seen this spear before; although its design was similar to the Royal Guard's garrison spear, it was far more magnificent, with a much wider blade. "Now we have another task. We have another monster to hunt. It can no longer escape." He first looked at the other three Royal Guards, and then at Derrick. "If you don't mind, this task will be yours. The Type 19 genetically modified warrior needs your help."

Derrick first pounded his chest with his fist, vowing that he would complete the hunt.

"I will offer you the head and blood of that beast."

Tetanus jumped again.

It carried the dazed Black Bolt back to the Gene Council hall of the commoner clan, along with the clan warriors. No one could comment on what they had just witnessed; they were too shocked to react emotionally to the tragic death of their companion. They didn't even notice the unusual fact that the Chaintooth Dog Tetanus had taken several times longer than usual to bring them back to the Gene Council without harming them. Tetanus was only whimpering, completely unaware that the terrifying creatures that might have harmed it during the teleportation were all keeping their distance, utterly afraid to approach.

"Where are the people?" The villainous clan warrior looked around.

This is the main hall of the Gene Council, leading to the lounges and meeting rooms of various clans. Even during wartime, it should be packed with clan officials and royal members. But at this moment, the circular hall with its smooth marble floor is empty of soldiers on duty. The main light on the ceiling is off, with only a few emergency lights in the corridors still on.

Black Bolt blinked hard, looking at the overturned vases and display shelves that remained in the hall, and smelled a very familiar scent. He wasn't sure if it was the odor molecules lingering in his nostrils or if something had happened, so he quickly gestured for the soldiers around him to turn up the hall's lighting and turn on all the lights—and then they saw a heart-wrenching sight, and everyone gasped—damage from live ammunition and energy weapons spread from the floor to the ceiling, and several uniformed corpses lay in the hall, corridors, and the open clan lounge.

The villainous clan warriors trembled with rage at the sight before them, their fur standing on end. The other clan warriors wore similar expressions, seemingly a resurgence of emotions previously suppressed, or perhaps the psychological trauma of witnessing their comrades' sacrifices. The clan warriors surrounding Black Bolt were now displaying highly unstable emotions. The rage deep within them had been completely ignited.

"Your Majesty, this was absolutely the work of the invaders! They sent assassins to attack the Gene Council! Forget about the Gene Council's opinion. The invaders want to destroy us completely, and we must crush them too!" shouted the villainous clan warriors. "Give every Inhuman weapon, and call upon all clans to unite and defend Attilan, for this is their only home in the universe. We will not allow anyone to destroy Attilan, Your Majesty..."

Black Bolt acted as if he hadn't heard him and ran forward as fast as he could.

An ominous premonition instantly consumed his reason, like leaden industrial fumes obscuring the starlight. He stepped over the corpses of familiar faces, without even glancing down. He manipulated his energy to accelerate, moving so fast he nearly smashed through the corridor doors, bursting into the Attilan royal lounge. There he saw more corpses and signs of battle. In the center of the lounge's circular hall was a huge, black scorch mark, surrounded by numerous charred and ashes corpses. Others bore the marks of live ammunition, their gaping wounds reminding him of the civilians and wizards he had seen in the Chimilian clan's settlement—wounds identical to those he now witnessed.

He had never witnessed the front lines of the battlefield, but at this moment he already understood the feelings of the other Inhumans.

He had countless questions, but no one could answer them.

A large group of armed soldiers burst through another door, tense and raising their guns before even recognizing the people in the break room. A blonde girl followed behind the soldiers, her face contorted with grief and anger, her palm glowing with energy. When they saw who the newcomers were, they all abandoned their plans to attack, and the blonde girl immediately forgot her anger.

"His Majesty!"

Black Bolt, the Black Bolt, had just nodded at the blonde girl.

He gestured, demanding an explanation. The blonde girl blinked, then opened her mouth, seemingly unsure where to begin. "Assassins... the invaders sent assassins. All the clan's Genetic Council representatives were attacked." Crystal frowned, glancing around. "Many died... Ah, you mean to ask about my sister?" Black Bolt nodded, barely controlling his emotions to avoid speaking to the crowd. "She's badly injured, Your Majesty. We put her in a hibernation pod, but the bomb burned her limbs and hair, making cloning temporarily impossible. We've kept her in drug-induced sleep to avoid further suffering."

Blackcard Burt had just closed his eyes.

He felt his joints stiffen, his head spin, and his thoughts become jumbled. Then he felt a pair of hands supporting him from behind. When he opened his eyes, he saw a face full of concern, and he stared at the ceiling of the lounge, as if the whole world had slid ninety degrees beneath his feet. But he didn't recognize the person; to be precise, his brain couldn't identify this once-familiar figure. It was as if he were looking at the world through a thick pane of glass, all visual, auditory, olfactory, and other sensory information condensing into tiny droplets on this side, like cold raindrops sliding down the other side of the glass.

"What...?"

Blood and screams shattered the glass, and the warm, foul-smelling liquid covering his body instantly brought him to his senses. The falling bricks from the ceiling of the lounge hall made him taste pain on his tongue. At that moment, Black Bolt Blackcard Burt realized he had lost control; the training in the century-old isolation chamber had spiraled out of control.

He killed someone, someone he knew.

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)