(Marvel, DC, images, manhuas, and every anime that will be mentioned and used in this story are not mine. They all belong to their respective owners. The main character "Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez" and the story are mine)
The sky screamed.
Rifts yawned wide above the Rodnick Estate, fracturing the clouds like shattered glass. Through them poured the enemy—not an army, but an infestation. Shadow-born creatures twisted into parodies of flesh and armor, remnants of corrupted realms and dead gods.
Adriel didn't wait for a strategy.
He hit the earth like judgment itself, the ground shattering beneath his boots. The symbiote armor pulsed with rage, gleaming black, gold, and red, alive with writhing embers of bio-energy. The mask split slightly across the jaw, vents opening to release a sound that was half-exhale, half-growl.
And then he moved.
Fast. Too fast.
A blur of crimson across the battlefield.
His reflexes, pushed beyond mortal comprehension, bent time itself. His body weaved between claws and teeth and steel. Every creature that swung at him missed. Every monster that roared died mid-breath.
Adriel spun low, claws slicing out. Retractable stingers gleamed in the light before tearing through two armored torsos like wet paper. A third creature leapt overhead—he twisted mid-air, kicked off its spine, and sent it crashing into its kin like a flaming comet.
The air was thick with ash.
And he wasn't done.
One swipe of his hand ignited a Venom Thread, electrocharged and razor-taut. He whipped it like a chain, wrapping it around a darkling's neck, pulling it toward him—and punched. Venom Punch detonated into its skull with enough force to crater the dirt.
He didn't stop moving.
Didn't stop killing.
But inside—
He felt it. The parasite. Slowing him.
The Void corruption sapped his strength—not enough to cripple him, but enough to make each movement fractionally less perfect. And for Adriel, who lived on the edge of precognition and precision, those fractions mattered.
His body screamed at him with every impact. Not pain.
Memory of a strength he no longer had.
Still, he fought. Not like a god. Like something older.
Like a principle.
He ripped a blade from a fallen soldier's grasp and hurled it like a missile. It spun through three enemies before slamming into the far wall, impaling the fourth.
More came.
Good.
The magnetic field around him flared. He raised his arm—and the iron-laced blood from the dead snapped upward like a whip. He pulled every dropped weapon into orbit, floating behind him like a spinning halo of death.
Then—
He pushed.
The field exploded outward. Blades. Axes. Spears. All rocketed into the approaching swarm.
Metal through bone. Screams. Silence.
He surged forward again, grabbing a massive beast by the neck. Its flesh writhed, whispering names it shouldn't know.
YOU ARE READING
The Guardian Of The Multiverse: A Hero's Burden
AdventureBook 2 In the second season of "The Guardian Of The Multiverse," the aftermath of the Infinity War has left everything in ruins. The once-defeated Guardian is on the path to recovery, and time has flowed differently within the enigmatic Nexus Of Kno...
