Underground Queens, B-7 Wastewater Treatment Hub.
Inside the SHIELD command vehicle, the atmosphere was suffocating, like a metal box slowly being drained of air.
“My God…
this is impossible!” a young technical agent cried, staring wide-eyed at his screen, his face pale and his voice trembling.
“The energy monitor…
the entire spectrum is running completely red!
The spikes are soaring out of control!
Sir, the location where that young man is standing—it isn’t just a signal tower anymore.
It’s practically an energy black hole!”
His outburst acted as a fuse for the growing panic.
“Audio Analysis Group reporting!
We’ve picked up infrasound!
The frequency is extremely low, but the intensity is steadily climbing.
It’s completely inaudible to human ears, but it’s enough to cause…
extreme cerebral discomfort!
This is likely what the residents of Queens are hearing as whispers!”
“Thermal imaging is showing absolutely nothing!
But the hydrological monitoring team reports that the water flow in the target zone has…
stalled!
The physical models have completely broken down.
It’s like the water has turned into pitch!”
Phil Coulson said nothing, his eyes locked onto the two main monitors side by side.
The left monitor displayed the now-meaningless energy chart, fully saturated in blood-red.
The right monitor showed a live feed captured by a drone looking down from a high-altitude ventilation shaft.
Yet, it was this seemingly quiet footage that sent a chill straight to his bones.
At the center of the frame, Leon Hall stood quietly.
But the wastewater surrounding him, which should have been flowing naturally…
was completely wrong.
The water possessed a non-physical viscosity and darkness that seemed to swallow all light.
Its surface was no longer calm, bubbling like a boiling cauldron of pitch.
Vague, humanoid silhouettes constantly bulged outward before collapsing back in, as if countless invisible, resentful souls were crowding, struggling, and thrashing wildly beneath the surface, charging toward the center!
“What…
is he attracting?” Coulson murmured to himself, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip.
He couldn’t see the enemy, but he could see the terrifying ripples left in the physical world as they charged.
At the exact same time, inside the workshop of Stark Tower.
The holographic screen before Tony Stark displayed the feed from his primary surveillance drone.
But adhering to Leon Hall’s prior instructions, a coin-sized circular silver piece was taped tightly over the drone’s lens.
This silver piece was etched with occult craftsmanship, featuring a hollowed-out eye symbol representing ‘Peeping’—a temporary [Spirit Vision Charm], supposedly blessed by a deity.
Through it, he saw tens of thousands of translucent, writhing grey shadows.
They seeped from every pipe opening, every crack in the walls, and every single drop of wastewater, merging into waves of grey-black spirituality that surged frantically toward Leon Hall!
“Sir,” Jarvis’s voice carried a hint of fluctuation beyond mere data computation for the first time, “according to model analysis, an individual subjected to a negative spiritual assault of this intensity has a 100% probability of mental collapse.”
“That’s because your model doesn’t account for the variable of a ‘deity,'” Tony grunted, though his gaze was incredibly solemn.
“He’d better hold on.”
Currently at the center of the storm, Leon Hall was enduring a terrifying pressure far beyond what Tony could imagine.
He was not just the bait; he was the battlefield.
Billions of thoughts filled with hunger, malice, and madness pierced his mind like poisoned steel needles.
[You are hungry…
join us…]
[Give up…
become one with us…]
[Flesh…
fresh flesh…]
The icy whispers coalesced into a chaotic ocean in his mind, threatening to tear his will apart.
His body trembled uncontrollably, cold sweat beads breaking out across his skin—a physiological reaction to his spirituality being excessively drained and contaminated.
The ritual array beneath his feet was already overloaded, cracks spreading through the silver-painted lines.
The time had come!
*Boom!*
Right then, the heavy industrial cargo elevator door on one side of the treatment hub groaned open with a loud thud, slowly rising.
A rugged, completely ungraceful iron beast crawled into view.
Its heavy metal treads rolled over the damp ground, carrying an overbearing sense of weight with every inch it advanced.
“What is that?!” Inside the SHIELD command vehicle, there was finally a development they could comprehend.
A technical agent gasped, “An engineering robot from Stark Industries…
What is he trying to do?”
Coulson’s pupils contracted sharply.
The clues in his mind snapped together instantly!
The anomalous water surface, the off-the-charts energy readings, Leon Hall’s positioning as “bait,” and Stark’s heavily modified “mobile platform” built entirely around an energy core…
He understood!
This wasn’t a battle.
This was a premeditated, meticulously planned…
exorcism!
In the underground hub, Leon Hall opened his bloodshot eyes, his will burning as hot as molten steel.
He took a deep breath, pulling his last protective charm from his pocket—a card-sized square silver plate etched with layered patterns representing “barriers.”
He pressed the searing silver plate hard against his chest.
The silver plate melted instantly, morphing into an invisible golden curtain of light that merged into his body, reinforcing his crumbling Wall of Spirituality!
The clamor of whispers in his mind was walled off, muffled into the distant sound of wind and rain outside a window.
Having done this, he gathered all his strength and roared two words into his communicator:
“Ignition!”
In the next second, he closed his eyes and couldn’t help but curse under his breath, “You maniac, Stark…
I hope you didn’t crank the power to maximum…”
“Sorry, I always prefer the maximum.”
Tony chuckled in his workshop, then slammed his hand down on the red button.
*Hummm—!*
The output mode of the Arc Reactor on the iron beast’s chest was instantly overridden.
The stable blue glow turned to a blinding pure white in a flash, the energy core’s rotation speed pushing its theoretical limits!
The entire subterranean space trembled violently under the high-frequency hum of energy.
Countless lenses on the projection platform synchronized, rotating and focusing, concentrating all the energy released by the reactor onto a single point.
Then, the world lost all sound.
A beam of light.
A light beyond description—a slice of the Big Bang itself, a pure, ultimate radiance—burst from the core of the projection platform!
“Ah!”
Inside the SHIELD command vehicle, every agent staring at the screens screamed and shielded their eyes.
Tears streamed uncontrollably down their faces.
Every monitor turned into a blinding, featureless white in an instant.
Amidst the crackle of static, the forward-facing optical lenses and highly sensitive sensors began smoking, instantly fried into scrap metal.
“Warning!
Energy readings off the charts!
Primary sensors overloaded!
Drones 1 through 3 offline!”
“Thermal imaging down!
Optical lenses down!
Switching to backup systems.
Ninety seconds required!”
Inside the vehicle, blaring alarms, the stench of burnt wiring, and the cursing of agents dissolved into utter chaos.
Within that ocean of light, the silent war reached its brutal climax.
The moment the first rays of intense light struck the spiritual bodies of the Whispering Leeches, they let out shrill, agonizing shrieks that were inaudible to human ears but powerful enough to shatter a soul.
Like snow beneath a scorching sun, or ghosts caught in broad daylight.
That pure, overbearing light and heat was the ultimate nemesis of these dark aggregations.
They twisted and writhed, trying to flee back to the dark corners.
But under the 360-degree, dead-zone-free sweep of this “mobile sun,” all effort was futile.
Waves of spiritual bodies were instantly evaporated and vaporized, leaving not even a wisp of smoke behind.
The entire spiritual plane of the space felt as though a red-hot branding iron had been ruthlessly seared across it!
Leon Hall, standing in the very center, felt it most acutely.
Even with the protection of the Wall of Spirituality, the brute heat and light radiation—capable of melting steel—made him feel like he had been tossed into a blast furnace.
He gritted his teeth, tensing every muscle to withstand this indiscriminate baptism from his “ally.”
“Asshole…
what a complete lunatic…” he gasped through clenched teeth.
Ninety seconds later, the blinding light finally began to recede.
“Sir!
The low-light lens on Backup Drone 4 is coming back online!”
Coulson immediately looked at the backup screen.
The feed heavily distorted and flickered from the residual heat, but it was clear enough to see the scene.
The iron monstrosity was cooling down, its glowing dark-red projection platform looking like a slumbering beast.
The young man was bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.
His hair was slightly singed and curled, his clothes soaked through.
He looked incredibly disheveled, but…
he was alive.
And around him, the viscous darkness, the eerie silhouettes, the terrifying atmosphere…
had all vanished.
The water had reverted to ordinary sewage.
Some had even evaporated due to the high temperatures, exposing more of the concrete floor.
Leon Hall straightened up and carefully gathered some of the black ash scattered on the dry ground into a specialized glass vial.
Speaking weakly into his communicator, he said, “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr.
Stark.
The contamination source has been cleared.”
“Also, this ‘ash’ is a highly useful extraordinary material.
Consider it…
a bit of compensation for nearly roasting me alive.”
With that, he cut the feed, turned around without looking back, and calmly walked away.
Dead silence filled the command vehicle.
A brave agent suited up in protective gear and descended to the scene.
A few minutes later, his voice came through the comms, filled with unrestrained shock:
“Sir…
the air here…
is incredibly clean.
Radiation levels are normal.
But we’ve found some unidentified ash; we’re taking samples now…
My God, this machine is still radiating incredible heat, like a miniature reactor…”
Coulson watched the retreating figure on the screen.
After a long silence, he finally picked up a heavily encrypted satellite phone.
The call connected.
“Director Fury,” Coulson said, his voice heavier than ever before.
“The Queens incident has been resolved.
The official report will attribute it to a large-scale methane explosion within the city’s sewage system, with an engineering robot from Stark Industries happening to be on-site to verify it.”
“But, sir, the unofficial version is…”
He paused, as if searching for the right words.
“I don’t even know what I just saw.
We spent the entire afternoon monitoring a ‘ghost story,’ and then Tony Stark drove in with a ‘sunlamp’ and vaporized them all.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.
Coulson continued, “That Asian youth is the key.
His name is Leon Hall.
He orchestrated everything.
He was the one who drew…
those things out.
He is working with Stark.
Sir, he is a completely new variable that lies entirely outside our current evaluation system.”
“I recommend we place him under our highest priority surveillance immediately.
We might be dealing with a new problem…
one a hundred times more troublesome than the incident itself.
A living, massive ‘unknown factor’ closely intertwined with Stark Industries.”