New York
"Ooooooo, daddy is dead."
"Be good, don't be afraid, kid. We will survive."
"We are all sinners; this is God's punishment."
The city of New York was filled with flames of war and the cries of despair. Pedestrians ran in all directions, desperate to escape the attacks that could strike at any moment. Amid the chaos, many gravitated toward Bleecker Street, sensing it was somehow safer than other parts of the city. Though they couldn't explain why, their survival instincts urged them to stay.
Almost every shop and building on the street became a refuge for frightened civilians. People huddled in corners and behind counters, hoping to avoid the destruction outside. Yet, one structure stood untouched by the masses. It exuded an ancient, almost otherworldly presence. Strangely, no one approached it. Those fleeing subconsciously avoided its entrance, as though their minds refused to acknowledge it.
This was the New York Temple, cloaked by the power of magic.
Nato, a newly initiated sorcerer, stood at the temple's entrance. He exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke, watching the chaotic scene with a mix of frustration and helplessness. Across the street, he saw refugees packed into buildings, their faces etched with terror.
"Damn evil god," Nato muttered, grinding the cigarette under his heel. "Why does everything bad have to pile up at once?"
His eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the destruction. The enchantments protecting the surrounding area were holding for now, but he knew their limits. Their priority was to defend the temple itself. If it fell, the devastation would spread far beyond New York, threatening the entire planet.
A sudden gunshot shattered Nato's thoughts. His head turned sharply toward the sound.
Across the street, a teenage boy stood trembling, clutching a pistol. A bleeding man lay at his feet, unmoving. The boy's face was pale with shock as he faced a group of tattooed thugs armed with bats and knives. Their leader snarled at him, his expression twisted with rage.
"Dawson's dead! Beach, get him!" the leader barked, motioning to one of his men.
"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" the boy shouted, his voice quivering as he aimed the pistol at them. "I'll shoot!"
Beach stepped forward with a smirk, his knife gleaming in the dim light. "Relax, kid. We're not gonna hurt you. Just give us the car, and we'll leave."
The boy's hands shook violently, but he kept the gun trained on them. Sensing an opportunity, the leader hurled a baseball bat at the boy's arm. The weapon struck with a sickening crack, sending the pistol clattering to the ground. The boy cried out, clutching his injured arm.
Before he could recover, the leader kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him to the pavement. The boy gasped for air, writhing in pain.
The thug picked up the pistol, inspecting it with a sneer. "You dare to play tough with me, and now you'll die," he growled, pointing the weapon at the boy's head.
From the temple's entrance, Nato's jaw tightened. His hand moved instinctively to his sling ring, conjuring fiery strands of magic in the air. A glowing rope shot toward the thug, sparks trailing in its wake.
Before it could land, a blade of yellow energy pierced through Nato's chest. His eyes widened in shock as blood seeped from the wound. He staggered, his strength draining rapidly. Turning his gaze, he saw a dark figure emerging from the shadows.
"Enemy attack," Nato rasped, his voice weak. He collapsed, lifeless, as the figure approached.
It was the God of Twilight. A cruel smile played across his lips as he twirled the Dusk Blade in his hand. With deliberate precision, he inhaled deeply. Nato's soul dissolved into a yellow mist, which the god absorbed with satisfaction.
Across the street, the refugees froze in place. Their eyes began to glow faintly yellow, their movements becoming robotic. Like puppets on strings, they marched toward the temple, their wills enslaved by the God of Twilight's power.
The god raised his hand, releasing a surge of energy that blasted the temple doors apart. Splinters scattered like leaves, and the air grew heavy with malevolence. Without hesitation, the God of Twilight stepped inside, disappearing into the shadows.
Inside the temple's grand hall, Kaecilius stood with a cadre of sorcerers. The shattered doors and approaching horde filled the room with a palpable tension.
"Enemy attack! All sorcerers, be on alert!" Kaecilius barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
The sorcerers exchanged uneasy glances. Their eyes flicked between the crowd and their leader, uncertainty etched on their faces.
Kaecilius raised his sling ring, flames sparking around his hand. "No mercy! Kill the intruders! I'll take full responsibility!"
With a sweeping motion, he launched a volley of fiery blades into the advancing crowd. The enchanted civilians fell, blood pooling on the floor as anguished cries echoed through the hall.
The other sorcerers hesitated, their gazes wavering. These were civilians, not warriors. Could they bring themselves to harm them?
"Kill them!" Kaecilius shouted. "The evil god is among them. Protect the temple at all costs!"
Steeling themselves, some of the sorcerers joined the fight. Spells rained down on the mob, cutting through the throng. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, and the ground became slick with gore. Yet the horde pressed on, their glowing eyes unblinking.
Hidden among the crowd, the God of Twilight observed the battle with disdain. His plan had been simple: use the civilians as a distraction to force the sorcerers into hesitation. Yet Kaecilius's ruthlessness had thrown a wrench into his strategy.
"Damn these sorcerers," the god muttered, narrowing his eyes. Yellow energy crackled around his hand as he prepared to intervene.
In a flash, the God of Twilight appeared before Kaecilius.
The God of Twilight thrust his palm forward, unleashing a surge of dusk energy. With a thunderous bang, the force struck Kaecilius, who had barely managed to raise an arm in defense. The energy slammed into his body, sending him hurtling through the air. Pain radiated from his chest and arms as he felt the energy tear through him.
Puff!
Blood sprayed from Kaecilius' mouth as he crashed to the ground, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His breathing was shallow, his body battered. The God of Twilight sneered, watching the sorcerer's broken form.
Without hesitation, the god's figure blurred as he rushed deeper into the temple. "If I don't act fast, the Ancient One will arrive," he muttered, urgency flashing in his eyes.
Several sorcerers nearby noticed Kaecilius' collapse and glanced at the God of Twilight disappearing into the shadows. Their faces turned grim. "The enemy is heading toward the core of the magic temple!" one of them shouted. "Stay alert!"
While some sorcerers chased after the intruder, two or three ran to Kaecilius' side. They quickly cast healing spells over his battered body, their hands glowing with restorative energy. Others handed him potions, which he drank with trembling hands. Though his breath steadied, his condition remained dire.
Deep within the New York Temple, the core chamber pulsed with immense energy. A massive sixteen-sided pillar of multicolored light stood at the center, its glow rhythmic and mesmerizing. Runes etched into the ground seemed to breathe, their light pulsing as they funneled power into the pillar. Suspended within the luminous column floated a dark yellow sphere—the core of the God of Twilight's origin.
The god stepped into the chamber, his gaze fixed on the orb. A look of longing crossed his face as he stared at the core. "Finally," he murmured. This was what he had come for—his essence, his power.
However, his attention shifted to a figure standing a short distance away. Blond hair gleamed under the pillar's radiant light as Gilderoy Lockhart emerged from the shadows, his wand held steady. The aura of strength surrounding him gave the god pause.
"Who are you?" the God of Twilight demanded, his voice sharp. "Return my core, and I will leave this temple. I have no quarrel with Kamar-Taj."
Lockhart regarded him silently, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. "If you want it, you'll have to fight me."
With a tap of his toes, Lockhart activated his domain. A pale golden light rippled outward, enveloping the chamber. Reality itself seemed to shift under the influence of his magic. The God of Twilight frowned, unease flickering across his features.
"This will be harder than I thought," the god muttered. Regret briefly crossed his mind—perhaps he should have targeted the London Temple instead. But it was too late for second thoughts. He steadied himself, his eyes narrowing with determination. No one would keep him from reclaiming his core.
The God of Twilight's figure blurred as he closed the distance between them in an instant. A yellow glow surrounded his fist as he prepared to strike. However, just as his punch was about to land, Lockhart vanished in a flash of dark shadow.
"Weak," Lockhart said calmly, reappearing behind the god. His wand barely brushed the deity's back, but a surge of cursed energy flowed into the God of Twilight. The god staggered as a mysterious affliction took hold of him.
"Curse you!" he growled, summoning the power of dusk to retaliate. He swung his elbow backward, aiming for Lockhart. But the wizard deftly sidestepped the attack.
"Obscuro," Lockhart intoned. Another curse landed, clouding the God of Twilight's vision. The deity roared in frustration, his attacks becoming more erratic as each curse stacked upon the last. His movements slowed, his strikes lost their precision, and his power waned under the accumulating effects.
Lockhart maintained his calm demeanor, weaving through the god's attacks with ease. Each dodge was followed by another curse: "Silencio!"With every incantation, the God of Twilight's senses were dulled further.
To the sorcerers arriving at the scene, the battle was a blur of flashing lights. Golden and yellow energy clashed violently, creating a spectacle of raw power. Lockhart's curses continuously chipped away at the god's strength, leaving him increasingly frustrated.
For the God of Twilight, the fight was nothing short of humiliating. Every time he regained his footing, another debilitating curse sent him reeling. His vision darkened, his body weakened, and his hearing faded. The cumulative effects of Lockhart's relentless assault left him in a state of near-constant disadvantage.
Finally, with a roar of desperation, the god's form shifted. His humanoid shape expanded, his skin glowing with a radiant yellow light. A massive giant now loomed over the chamber, his presence overwhelming.
"Kill!" the God of Twilight bellowed, his voice shaking the very walls of the chamber. He charged forward, his colossal form crashing toward Lockhart.
Boom!
The ground trembled as his massive foot landed, but Lockhart once again evaded the attack with a flash of Apparition. Reappearing behind the god, Lockhart pointed his wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
A green jet of light struck the giant's chest, but the Death Curse had little effect. The God of Twilight felt only a mild sting in his spirit, barely acknowledging the attack. Lockhart's face betrayed no surprise. He adjusted his stance, raising his wand again.
The ground beneath the God of Twilight began to shift, transforming into a viscous swamp. The giant's feet sank into the sticky surface, slowing his movements.
"Tricks like this won't save you!" the God of Twilight roared, his voice dripping with disdain. His legs shimmered, dissolving into yellow particles. Freeing himself from the swamp, he focused all his attention on the core of origin.
With a thunderous punch, he struck the protective barrier surrounding the light pillar. The red flame-colored shield trembled, cracks forming along its surface. The god grinned triumphantly, sensing victory within reach.
Lockhart's expression hardened. He gripped the sling ring around his neck and made a series of deliberate hand movements. A familiar necklace appeared, its golden chain gleaming in the chamber's light.
The Eye of Agamotto.
A green glow enveloped Lockhart as the Time Stone activated.
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