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  Chapter 12 – A Distance Between Him and the Shadows

  Time flowed before his eyes like a veil of darkness. Echoes rang out from the depths of his consciousness, like a scream buried in the soul… Memories howled like winds brushing the edge of endless cliffs… And among those memories, there was one that still burned: the moment when light clashed with darkness, when the sky was torn apart, and his soul was split in two.

  V slowly opened his eyes.

  The first thing he saw was a flickering shadow—the silhouette of a tree branch cast upon the earth by the morning light. Then came the scent of the earth—dried blood, burnt leaves, and stones scorched by lightning. The world had seemingly fallen silent in the aftermath of battle.

  There was a weight upon his chest. Not just physical… but a burden that had sunk deep into his soul. The aftershocks of his Chak energy still echoed through his veins. When he placed his hands upon the ground, the surrounding shadows slowly tried to approach—but recoiled almost instantly. Even they seemed frightened.

  He took a step. Then another.

  And then, he heard footsteps behind him.

  It was Ajak. She stood just beyond a circular perimeter, accompanied by Sersi and Druig. There was no expression on their faces—neither anger nor pity. Only silence. Behind them, Phastos was glancing at V from the corner of his eye, while Makkari anxiously stepped on the symbols she had drawn in the dirt. Kingo and Thena remained distant. Sprite had nearly vanished behind a tree.

  But Ikaris…

  He was still there. Recently descended from the sky, burn marks on his shoulder still fresh. His eyes shone like they had fallen from the stars—yet something within them was missing: trust.

  “You’re awake,” Ajak said. Her voice cracked like a brittle branch.

  V slowly turned his head. He didn’t speak. He simply let his gaze pass over each of them. Every glance was a test. Who is afraid? Who is angry? Who could ever understand?

  But none gave an answer.

  “Something is wrong,” Druig said, narrowing his eyes. “You… you’re no longer the same person.”

  “I… have always been,” V whispered. Yet there was an echo in his voice, hinting at something else. “You just never noticed.”

  “What lies within you,” said Thena, stepping forward, “it’s not just darkness. It’s a curse.”

  V smiled. That smile was like the chill wind slipping through the trees—cold and defiant.

  “If it’s a curse… who do you think placed it inside me?”

  Silence fell between them like a blade. Ajak’s lips parted, but words tangled in her throat. Sersi averted her gaze. V tilted his head slightly—just like he had done when he faced Ikaris before the great battle.

  “I’m not your pawn,” V said, his voice now stronger. Shadows began to dance around him—slowly, menacingly, deliberately.

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  “You are not our enemy either!” Sersi burst out. “But you… you terrify us.”

  That sentence cleaved through the air. The others turned their eyes to her. V’s face hardened. The glimmer in his eyes faded, replaced by a cold void.

  “When I was born, Asgard cast me out. Midgard never welcomed me. And now you…”

  He took a step forward. The shadows shifted with him.

  “…see me as a threat. But you are the threat. With those lofty gazes that try to keep everything under control. But I can no longer be controlled.”

  Finally, Ikaris spoke.

  “This isn’t about control. It’s about limits. Your power—it’s beyond nature now. You are no longer just a warrior, V. You… are an apocalypse.”

  V locked eyes with him. “Then why didn’t you stop me?”

  “Because I didn’t want to kill you.”

  In that moment, the clash of two souls became visible. Ikaris’ light and V’s darkness battled beyond words.

  Then Ajak stepped forward.

  “Enough.”

  Everyone turned their eyes to her. Ajak gazed at V with the weight of lived experience and exhaustion.

  “What’s inside you… it’s growing. And we don’t know where it’s headed. But we can no longer… watch over you.”

  It was a decision. Though not declared outright, it was an exile.

  V bowed his head. Then he knelt down, placed his hand on the earth, and whispered to the shadows. A faint tremor shook the stones around him.

  “I understand,” he said.

  “This path now belongs to me.”

  And he stood. Turned his back. Began to walk away. No one tried to stop him. Only Makkari took a step forward—but then stopped.

  Ikaris followed him with his eyes. Parted his lips, but no words came.

  V walked silently into the depths of the forest.

  The shadows disappeared with him.

  And that day, one more star broke away from the Eternals.

  But this star… glowed with darkness.

  ?

  As V walked deeper into the forest, he felt not only the echo of his footsteps among the trees, but something watching him. The shadows stirred with an unnatural unrest, the wind murmured as if it were about to whisper secrets into his ears. Yet V neither looked back nor quickened his pace.

  He no longer bowed to fear.

  Hours turned to days, and days into a week. V complained neither of hunger nor of fatigue. The shadows embraced him, at times touching his soul and beckoning him forward. With every step, he grew more attuned to the darkness—quieter, deadlier, more focused. And then, one night… a night when the Moon was hidden and even the stars held their breath… a gate appeared before him, built of ancient stone.

  It looked as though it had risen from beneath the earth. Beyond it lay a city long forgotten by time.

  V walked silently among stone-carved columns, moss-covered statues, and dried fountains. This city possessed a soul—steeped in history, yet not abandoned. And truly, he was not alone.

  A shadow shifted. Then another. Footsteps echoed—laced not with fear, but awe. Dim torches flickered to life. A group of people slowly emerged. Their clothes were earthen, their skin sunburnt. And their eyes… upon meeting his, they sparkled as if staring at a god.

  Their leader was an old woman. Her face bore the patience of a thousand-year-old mountain.

  “The shadow who walked from the endless forest…” she spoke like a whisper. “You are the Herald of the Prophecy.”

  V inclined his head slightly. He neither posed as a god nor denied who he was. He simply watched in silence. The woman stepped forward, striking her staff upon the ground.

  “For a thousand years, it was foretold—on the night of an eclipse, one would emerge from the shadows and, after destruction, begin rebirth. Your eyes… they make even the night tremble.”

  V said nothing. But the shadows gathered at his feet, bowing in his presence.

  “We,” the woman said, “are the forgotten people. Those abandoned by the world, forsaken by the gods. But you… you will be remembered. For the age that begins with you will be our awakening.”

  From that night on, V settled in the deepest chamber of that ancient city. Surrounded by temples, within towering stone columns, he lived among the shadows. The walls bore carvings of legends—one caught his eye: a black figure descending from the skies, destroying creatures birthed of darkness.

  Fate had already written his name.

  Days passed. V spoke not to the people, but protected them. At night, he patrolled within the shadows. Eyes that once watched him with fear now bowed with reverence. Children whispered his name:

  “Vargr.”

  The Light Within the Dark.

  Lord of Shadows.

  Herald of Destruction and Rebirth.

  And so, V became the guardian of a forgotten people. The Eternals thought he was gone. Midgard deemed him cursed. But in this lost city… he was becoming a legend.

  One night, he climbed to the highest point of his temple. The Moon was once again eclipsed. The sky was cloaked in black. And there, in the heart of darkness, he heard a new whisper:

  “Darkness is not just an end. It is a beginning.”

  He smiled.

  The shadows embraced him.

  And the world began to awaken to a new legend.

  ?

  Thus ends the prologue that forms a part of the core theme and narrative of this story. As you can see, unlike many other Marvel fan fictions, this tale offers a darker perspective on the universe.

  My style remains ornate, with mythological undertones and a deliberate use of elevated language.

  In the chapters to come, V must fully comprehend his powers, attune to them, and uncover why they were bestowed upon him.

  After that, we’ll delve into stories never before told in any Marvel fan narrative.

  To those who have read this far, I ask just one thing: leave a review. Whether positive or negative doesn’t matter. Tell me—what do you enjoy about this story? What doesn’t work for you?

  Based on the number of reviews I receive, I’ll release bonus chapters.