Val’Karas — The Crimson Room
A deep red glow bathed the grand chamber. The walls pulsed with veins of molten light, and the air felt alive—hot, heavy, and suffocating. At the center stood Sin, arms wide, welcoming his guests with that ever-present crooked smile.
"Welcome, brothers," he said, voice echoing like a hiss through a furnace.
Y’tharion stepped forward, his cloak flowing like smoke. His sharp eyes scanned the room, unimpressed but curious. "Not bad," he muttered. "The decor screams try harder, though."
Death said nothing. He stood still, eyes glowing like the sun eclipsed. He turned slowly toward the group of followers gathered in awe, trembling with both worship and fear.
Sin followed his gaze, a bit too late. "Ah... Death, you haven’t had your meal yet, have you?" Google seaʀᴄh 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁
"I’ll knock myself out," Death said calmly, stepping forward.
Sin raised a hand in protest. "Just retain yourself. We’ll need some of them for the new—"
With a slow wave of his hand, Death raised the followers into the air. Their screams were swallowed as their chests glowed a fiery red—then, one by one, fire souls ripped out, spiraling into his open palm. The room dimmed as every soul was devoured. Bodies dropped, hollow and lifeless.
Sin let out a tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I’ll leave it at that then..."
He snapped his fingers.
From the shadows, a figure crawled out—half-human, half-beast, its skin scorched and split with flickers of flame. Fire poured from its mouth as it groaned, stumbling forward on shaky legs.
Death raised a brow. "So these... are the Infernals?"
Sin grinned. "We call them Cinderborn. The Gates of Hell spat them out when the seals began to weaken. Thanks to the Mark, they’re evolving... but they’re still not strong enough."
Y’tharion stepped closer, his gaze sharp. "They’re not fit to be vessels."
Sin turned to them, holding up a glowing test tube. "Not yet. But with this..."
Death’s eyes narrowed. "Whose blood is that?"
"The Nine-Tailed Guardian," Sin said, almost reverently. "Aria. Her blood carries divine heat—purity and chaos bound together. If it reacts with the Mark, these things will become something else entirely."
He poured the blood onto the Cinderborn’s tongue.
The creature shrieked.
Flames erupted from its body—wild, blazing white and pink. The floor cracked under the pressure as waves of heat surged outward, distorting the air. Its screams turned into a roar as its body began to change—skin rebuilding, posture straightening. Muscles formed, fire veins pulsed under glowing skin.
When the flames died down, the creature stood tall. Humanoid. Eyes burning with intelligence—and rage.
Y’tharion smirked. "So this is the peak of their evolution."
Death stepped closer. "It’s... alive."
Sin nodded, his eyes gleaming. "We just need more."
Another red magic circle flared open on the floor, glowing with strange symbols. Sin pricked his finger and let Aria’s blood drip into it.
From it, more Infernals began to claw their way out—screaming, evolving, becoming.
Sin looked at the rising army and chuckled. "Let’s give the King of Hell a little present, shall we?"
Y’tharion laughed, dark and amused. "He’ll love it."
Death said nothing, but his smile showed sharp teeth.
The flames around them blazed higher.
The countdown to war had begun.
Royal Palace — Azreal’s Room
Selmora sat beside the unconscious Azreal and Aria, her hands glowing with green flames. With a soft chant, the flames transformed into two ethereal serpents, slithering gently into their chests. Their bodies glowed faintly, reacting to the healing energy. Steam and heat radiated from them as the process continued.
In the corner, Hulk stood silent, arms crossed, his brows furrowed.
"Lord Azreal... we need you," he murmured. "You’re our strength. We can’t afford to lose you."
Suddenly, loud knocking broke the silence. A guard burst in, panting. "An intruder—he attacked the outer gates! A human—but his energy... it’s like the infernals!"
Selmora didn’t look back. "I can’t leave them now."
Hulk stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. "Then I’ll handle it. Tell the others to stand back. I’m going out."
Royal Gates – Battlefront
The heat outside was overwhelming. Hulk stepped through the cracked gate, flames dancing along the broken walls. Charred bodies of guards lay scattered. Ahead, standing calmly amidst the chaos, was a man.
Tall. Lean. Shirtless. His skin glowed faintly red, like molten metal, and glowing orange veins pulsed across his arms. His eyes were wild and burning.
"So, you’re the right hand of Azreal," the infernal said with a grin. His voice echoed like a furnace. "Let’s see if you live up to the title."
"Who the hell are you?" Hulk growled.
"Name’s Raigon," he replied, stretching a hand to the side. Flames danced around his palm, spiraling upward before forming into a long, flaming spear. The weapon hissed, heat rippling off its surface.
Hulk’s eyes widened. "He... forged a weapon from flames... like it’s nothing."
Raigon charged. The ground cracked under his feet. Hulk braced himself just in time as the flaming spear clashed against his forearm, the heat searing through skin.
With a roar, Hulk grabbed Raigon by the waist and hurled him across the battlefield. The infernal flipped midair, landing cleanly with a smirk.
"Not bad," Raigon said. Flames wrapped around his arms, forming dual flaming blades now. He vanished in a burst of heat, reappearing behind Hulk.
The blades met Hulk’s gauntlets as he barely blocked the strike. The force pushed him back, feet digging trenches in the ground.
"Damn... this guy’s fast."
Raigon spun, kicking Hulk in the chest and sending him flying into a wall.
"You done already? What a disappointment."
Dust erupted. Hulk stepped out of the rubble, blood dripping down his cheek.
He raised his arms. The veins across his skin glowed red as he activated his ability—Thermic Absorption.
The heat from the battlefield surged toward him, absorbed into his body. His muscles swelled, his frame growing more monstrous. His eyes glowed red-hot.
He charged. This time, faster. He ducked under Raigon’s spear, landed a heavy uppercut that sent the infernal flying.
Raigon coughed, flames sputtering from his mouth. "Hah... impressive. You’re adapting. But can you handle this?"
The ground around Raigon ignited in a wide circle. He raised his hand and formed a massive flaming sword, taller than himself.
"This is the Flamebringer!" he declared.
A giant wave of fire surged forward. Hulk crossed his arms as the flames crashed into him, pushing him back. His body heated up rapidly, his breath became heavy.
"Too much heat... I’m burning... from inside."
He fell to one knee. His body shook.
"I can’t... I can’t give in. Not now. Not when Lord Azreal needs me."
The memory of Azreal’s unconscious face flashed in his mind.
"I’m Lord Azreal’s right hand... I can’t fall here!"
He roared, veins lighting up completely. His body expanded, muscles ballooning with power. His skin shimmered red, smoke escaping from his pores.
Raigon narrowed his eyes. "You’re going to explode at this rate."
Hulk stood up, taller now. Stronger. His eyes burned like a furnace.
"Let’s see if you can stop me before I do."
He charged, fists flying.
The battlefield shook.
Flames met fists. Explosions erupted with every punch. Hulk slammed his fist into Raigon’s stomach, shattering the flaming armor around him. Raigon coughed blood.
The infernal slashed Hulk’s shoulder, but Hulk didn’t flinch. He grabbed Raigon by the neck.
He raised Raigon and slammed him into the ground hard enough to cause a crater. With a final, massive punch, he knocked the infernal unconscious.
His breath hitched. His body steamed. Then—he collapsed.
Royal Palace — Infirmary
Hulk’s body was laid beside Azreal and Aria. Burns, cracks, and glowing red marks covered his form.
Selmora focused her energy, green serpents weaving between all three bodies now.
Sarah entered, eyes wide at the sight.
"He fought alone... against that monster?"
"He bought us time," Selmora whispered. "But we don’t know more might be coming. We’re running out of time."