Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 563 Awakening and Arrival

The moment the gunshot rang out, Laura knew she had lost her cover, for she had emptied an entire magazine, killing the bear with lightning speed. The continuous gunfire wasn't absorbed by the snow; instead, it echoed through the desolate canyon, carrying far along the rock walls, rendering Laura's stealthy advance futile. Trinity would be upon her soon; she had no time to leisurely skin the bear and add another animal decoration to Croft Manor.

She immediately turned back and walked into the cave where the brown bear had appeared. A shamanic totem hung beside the cave entrance, its rusted copper bells jingling in the wind and snow. She didn't know where the cave led, nor whether she could shake off Trinity, but she could only grit her teeth and continue forward. Her adrenaline gradually returned to normal, and she moved her numb fingers, shoulders, and back—which had been almost completely deprived of feeling from the cold—Trinity hadn't equipped their mercenaries' guns with flash suppressors to save money. Combined with her improper shooting posture, the recoil of the gun nearly threw her to the ground, breaking her slender waist and cervical spine.

The cave showed signs of human intervention; a stone wall, perhaps over 1000 years old, stood loosely, irresponsibly letting the cold wind blow in from the other side. Laura smelled water. The water flowing beneath glaciers often had a crisp, refreshing quality, completely different from the Siberian winds, sharp and almost freezing to the lungs. Behind the wall was a glacial cave, from which the melodious sound of flowing water could be faintly heard through the cracks in the walls.

Laura felt incredibly lucky, but little did she know that this was just the beginning of another misfortune.

Her gunshot not only startled the slacking Trinity mercenaries, but also awakened Salomon, far away on the edge of the galaxy, as if guided by fate. "My dear child, son of Terra," a gentle voice roused Salomon from his deep slumber. Salomon knew whose voice it was. It was the Great Mother of Gods, whose incarnations appeared in many of Earth's mythologies. She revealed to Salomon the purpose of his visit; she had granted his request and would assist him in his task. Shortly after his awakening, Merlin, the Earth Mother's agent, swaggered into the cabin, informing Salomon that they had arrived at their destination.

He took a deep breath and stretched. Phoenix, who was beside him, also spread its wings and shook its head.

The moment he fully awoke, the pilots sitting in front of him also stopped what they were doing. The golden light on the soul level gradually receded, revealing several withered, dried corpses. These pilots, with their frail souls and bodies, faced Salomon's essential stigmata directly. Their mortal souls, like snowmelt in a raging fire, evaporated without resistance. But at least they died as they were, better off than many others in this fleet. They would never be corrupted by evil; their souls belonged to themselves.

Nightmares breached Salomon's defenses more than once. Although he quickly reclaimed lost territory, the corruption of evil had taken deep root.

To the eyes of mortals, this place is nothing but a lightless void, adorned only by the distant starlight that punctuates this maddeningly silent wasteland, where the colorful dust of gaseous nebulae is barely visible. Yet, from the perspective of the soul, it constantly emanates a nauseating, foul light, like a deep purple ribbon floating in space, where many twisted, grotesque creatures roam near the fleet. They possess amorphous, rotting bodies that only the mad could appreciate, their deformed mouths spewing venomous truths. They whisper incessantly in the crew's ears, calling their names, tempting them to madness and depravity, to join the endless frenzied revelry. They feed on madness; they are the mites that breed in Sithon's dreams, making Salomon's scalp itch.

This is the repulsive patchy skin and festering sores on the surface of the Prime Material Plane, beneath which lies a cancer that has penetrated to the very marrow, a morbid body like poison, viciously breeding stubborn tumors, filled with absurd and distorted physical laws. The Stigmata resist them; he is their mortal enemy. Reality rejects them, preventing them from ever descending upon the Prime Material Plane. Deformed, illusory monsters curse him with their blasphemous mouths, tempt him with sweet words; their masters yearn for his fall, yearn for his madness.

"I've been crazy for a long time," Salomon muttered, pressing hard on the small silver bell on the steel armrest of the captain's throne. First Mate Alex rushed in, his face full of fanaticism.

"My captain!" The first mate's voice suddenly burst into the room through the megaphone in front of his neck.

"Good evening, First Mate. What's going on?" Salomon looked at the First Mate with a strange expression. Although his attention was focused on how to defend himself against Sithon's dream attacks and resist the invasion of nightmare creatures, he could still vaguely sense what was happening on the ship.

"No, my captain! No mutiny, everyone is loyal!" the first mate said with a smile, not even glancing at the pilots who had become mummies. His power armor had been replaced with a new set, crafted by the ship's Kree artisans according to Salomon's aesthetic sensibilities, using the ship's wreckage. There was no bodysuit, only iron-black plate armor engraved with magnificent patterns, two circular bloodstones inlaid on his gauntlets, and his heavy shoulder armor adorned with gold depictions of the fleet's achievements and a soaring golden eagle. The combination of a revolver-style ballistic weapon and a longsword hung at the first mate's waist, while the laser weapon was attached to a magnetic belt on the other side. Salomon didn't question the first mate's odd behavior. He didn't care about the crew's lives; he simply needed them to pilot the ship to this place.

"That's not what I wanted to ask... Never mind, have someone move these bodies away and engrave their names on the back of the chairs to commemorate their great sacrifice. Okay, although I know they weren't there voluntarily, they did die. For safety's sake, I need you to arrange a new pilot. We'll start the low-inertia engine and glide slowly into that void."

"Oh, right," Salomon called after him again before the first mate left the captain's cabin, "I know that cat-man mechanic doesn't like baths, but this time you have to shove it into the tub and wash it thoroughly. Use my water ration. It can't speak, but I'm sure it understands commands, by any means necessary. Damn it, how does it even handle a wrench with its paws?"

"Captain, are you perhaps thinking... I didn't know you had such a hobby. Actually, it's quite normal, on Harry Planet..."

"Don't be silly, that's a cat! I can't imagine the fleet being overrun with fleas!"

"Yes, Captain!" The first mate ran out without looking back, as if he were going on a mission.

"Phoenix," the large, golden-red bird called out gently. Salomon glanced at Merlin, who was examining the pilot's body. "I need you to scout the rift ahead and make sure the fleet arrives safely."

"My dear Salomon, is this all the trust we have between us?"

"Then tell me, how's Dave doing now?"

"Sleeping. I didn't expect this little guy to be so stubborn, not even saying a word about his injury. But I think it's foolish; he's nothing like my heir."

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(End of this chapter)