The jester knelt before Neo, trembling with terror. He had never heard of anyone like him—someone capable of slaughtering so many in an instant.
Cold sweat poured down his face as he realized the oppressive cursed energy in the air was now coming from Neo. It was suffocating. Overwhelming. He felt as if his very soul was being dissected under Neo's piercing gaze.
But before he could even utter a single word—
His head was already on the ground.
George and the rest of the group stared at Neo in stunned silence. A few moments ago, he had been just a normal fifteen-year-old boy. Now, he was a monster—a being who had just effortlessly taken more than ten lives.
Fear began to creep into the eyes of the group as they instinctively took a step back. All except George.
He wasn't afraid. He was in awe.
But that admiration quickly turned into unbearable pain as another violent coughing fit wracked his body. He clutched his throat, blood pouring from his mouth in thick, crimson streaks.
Neo stepped toward him, resting a hand on his shoulder before turning to the others.
Neo:"Don't just stand there! Help the kid and get out of here."
Neo's sharp voice jolted them out of their stunned state. The group scrambled to aid George, some searching the fallen guards for anything useful.
Meanwhile, Neo quietly stepped away. His eyes were locked on the place where the highest concentration of cursed energy lingered. Yet, unlike before, his usual sadistic grin was gone. His face was dark, irritated—unsettled.
He was free. Finally free to unleash his massacre. And yet… there was a bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn't quite place.
Shoving the feeling aside, he set his sights on the largest circus tent in the area—where most of the guards and staff were likely gathered. However, before he could move toward it, he sensed another presence. Another cluster of cursed energy, though smaller.
After a brief moment of thought, Neo changed direction.
The guards he encountered along the way didn't even have the chance to react. The moment they entered his range, they died—slaughtered without a sound, their bodies dropping like lifeless puppets.
Neo's expression remained twisted into an uncharacteristic scowl as he approached a smaller circus tent. He pushed aside the entrance flap without hesitation, unconcerned by the possibility of an ambush.
Inside, dozens of guards were gathering, organizing weapons, and preparing for something.
One of them turned and caught sight of him.
Guard:"We've got a fugitive!"
All eyes snapped to Neo, but instead of panic, the room filled with laughter.
One of the guards, a burly man leaning against a crate, groaned in annoyance. He grabbed his rifle and aimed it lazily at Neo.
Guard 2:"Listen, kid, I'll give you one chance. Surrender now, or I'll put a bullet in your head, got it?"
The others chuckled, mocking him for taking things so seriously.
Then—
A head rolled across the floor.
The guard's body remained standing for several agonizing seconds, as if unaware that it had been decapitated. Then, with a dull thud, it collapsed.
The laughter died instantly.
Horrified eyes turned to Neo.
The longer they looked, the less human he seemed. The boy before them had vanished—what remained was something far, far worse.
The scent of blood filled the air. But it wasn't normal. It wasn't natural.
There was only one corpse in the room, and yet the stench was thick—overpowering. It smelled like an ocean of blood. Like a battlefield soaked in death.
Their legs gave out. Some collapsed entirely, their bodies shaking in terror.
Neo took a step forward, his expression shifting into a slow, eerie grin.
Neo:"Let's play, dear friends."
The only thing left in that tent were the chilling echoes of their screams—screams of absolute, mind-numbing horror.
Neo stood atop a mound of lifeless bodies, his hands drenched in blood, his gaze fixed on the starry sky above. The tent that once surrounded him had long since collapsed, leaving only the grotesque remnants of his carnage.
Something stirred deep within his soul—a change, subtle yet undeniable. He couldn't grasp its nature, nor whether it was for better or worse. He only knew one thing: he was changing.
For now, he ignored it.
His eyes drifted toward the grand circus tent—the heart of this wretched place. That was where the largest gathering of people remained.
Without a second thought, Neo began walking toward it, stepping over the bodies without care or remorse.
___________________________________________
Inside the Grand Tent
The atmosphere was electric with anticipation. The crowd, dressed in luxurious attire, murmured excitedly among themselves as the event's host stepped onto the stage.
He was yet another jester—this one wearing a crocodile-themed mask, his grin eerily wide beneath it.
Host:"Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to begin the auction!"
A wave of applause followed.
Host:"As per tradition, we will start with the simpler items and work our way up to the rarest prize of the night. Any questions?"
Silence.
Satisfied, the host clapped his hands.
Host:"Then let us begin! Our first item of the evening..."
A woman, also dressed in a jester's garb, entered the stage, leading a child by a metal collar and chain. The boy trembled violently, his small frame frozen in fear.
Host:"As you can see, a perfectly ordinary child. A wide range of uses, excellent health, and, of course, the potential to grow into an even more useful asset. Bidding starts at 100,000. Increments of 10,000 per bid."
A rotund man in the audience raised his numbered paddle.
Host:"110,000!"
The bidding continued in rapid succession, the price climbing higher and higher. Eventually, the child was sold for 210,000 to a pale man clad entirely in black, who carried with him a peculiar scent of blood.
The auction proceeded. More items. More transactions. More depravity.
Then—
A sudden shift in the air.
Three individuals in the audience stiffened, their heads snapping toward the entrance with visible concern.
Within seconds, two of them dissolved into shadows and vanished, while the third conjured a portal of golden sparks, stepping through it in haste.
Not even ten seconds passed before the tent's entrance was flung open.
Neo stepped inside.
Neo:"Tsk. Looks like the only interesting ones in this pile of trash ran off before they could say goodbye."
His voice was laced with disappointment as he swept his gaze over the remaining crowd. With a slow, deliberate step, he advanced toward the first person in the audience.
His tone grew colder, quieter.
Neo:"Unfortunately, I'll have to waste my energy purging the rest of you."
The first person in his path was an elderly woman, her wrinkled face twisted in initial defiance.
Then, she got a proper look at him.
Her expression shifted.
Her eyes gleamed.
Woman:"Oh, little boy, I'm so glad you came. Come here and help me with something."
Neo could feel the vile intent emanating from the woman, and in the next instant…
Slash.
A nearly soundless cut sliced through the air, and her head was split in two before she even had time to react.
Neo didn't spare her a glance. He simply continued forward, his aura seeping into the room like a slow-moving tide.
The moment his energy spread, no one in the tent—not even the masked presenter—dared to breathe without his permission.
Their eyes remained locked on him as he ascended the stage, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he wasn't about to massacre every last one of them.
Standing at the center of the stage, Neo gazed at the crowd in the stands before speaking.
Neo:"You are the worst kind of filth. None of you deserve a second chance. I hereby decree your extermination."
At that moment, the slaves beside their so-called owners felt their chains and shackles shatter.
Neo:"However, not all of you are here by choice. All slaves have five minutes to escape and free their captured companions. If you fail to do so, you will share the same fate as those inside this tent."
The weight of his aura lifted from the slaves, allowing them to move freely. Without hesitation, they bolted toward freedom. One of them, acting on pure instinct, snatched the jester's keys and rushed to release the others.
Neo didn't watch them go. He simply closed his eyes and waited.
The tent fell into an eerie silence. The remaining crowd—buyers, organizers, monsters in human skin—stood frozen in place, unable to move under the crushing pressure of his presence.
Five minutes passed.
Neo opened his eyes.
Neo:"You have one minute to run. After that, everything within a 200-meter radius will turn to ash. Good luck."
The moment his words sank in, the tension snapped like an overdrawn string.
Panic erupted.
Screams. Chaos. Desperate footsteps pounding against the ground.
But Neo no longer paid attention.
While the world crumbled around him, he turned inward.
Deep within his soul, he was forging something.
A promise.
A chain that would bind him to a higher purpose.
Neo was making his first binding vow.
Deep within his soul, Neo etched a vow—one both simple and burdensome in equal measure.
"I will never close my eyes to the suffering of others."
The moment the vow was sealed, a strange sensation washed over him. He had bound himself to something far greater than his own existence.
Yet, he wasted no time reflecting on the weight of his words.
Instead, he raised his hand.
A small flame flickered to life in his palm.
For thirty long seconds, Neo stood still, his presence alone dictating the fate of those around him.
Then, slowly, he brought his hands together, pressing the fire between them. The small flame stretched and morphed into an arrow, crackling with searing energy as if drawn from a bow unseen.
Neo:"Your minute is up... ABRA: FUUGA."
His final words were barely a whisper.
Then, he loosed the flaming arrow.
It shot forward like a streak of light, striking the back of the slowest fleeing figure.
BOOOOM!!!
The explosion was cataclysmic.
The night was swallowed by fire as an immeasurable pillar of flames surged into the heavens, outshining every other light in the darkness.
For a brief moment, a second sun had risen in the dead of night.
__________________________________________________________
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters — Nick Fury's Office
The entire building shook.
Nick Fury turned to his office window, his expression darkening as he took in the blazing inferno consuming the skyline.
A towering column of fire, so vast it defied reason, lit up the night.
His pulse quickened.
Wasting no time, he grabbed his phone and dialed a secure number.
Natasha:"Director, tell me I'm hallucinating. That's not real, is it?"
Nick:"You're not hallucinating, Agent Romanoff. And I need you to alert everyone in the upper echelon. Above all else, get to the scene immediately. Find out what caused this before it happens again."
Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.
His jaw clenched.
A fire of that magnitude wasn't just destruction. It was a statement.
And that terrified him to his core.
______________________________________________
Stark Tower
Tony Stark was enjoying a quiet, entertaining evening with two well-known models when the entire building shuddered violently.
The tremor alone was enough to send alarm bells ringing in his head.
But when he glanced out the window—
A massive column of fire dominated the horizon.
His heart nearly stopped.
Before the models could even process what was happening, Tony bolted upright, his voice sharp and frantic.
Tony:"J.A.R.V.I.S.! What the hell am I looking at?!"
His AI assistant, J.A.R.V.I.S., immediately began cross-referencing data, scanning all available sources. Within seconds, a response came through.
J.A.R.V.I.S.:"Sir, there is no confirmed explanation for this anomaly. However, based on initial readings, there have been significant casualties. The source of the explosion appears to be a circus ground."
Tony's expression darkened.
A massacre.
No hesitation. He sprinted to his garage, reaching for the Mark IV armor, hastily suiting up as he issued another command.
Tony:"J.A.R.V.I.S., set a course for the source of the fire—now."
The AI hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding.
J.A.R.V.I.S.:"Sir, I strongly advise against this course of action. If the entity responsible is capable of repeating such an attack, the current Mark IV armor may not be able to withstand it."
Tony barely registered the warning.
Tony:"Then let's hope I don't have to find out."
With that, the repulsors flared to life, and Iron Man launched into the sky at full speed—
Racing toward the fire.
Toward Neo.
____________________________________________
Hey everyone! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to send some Power Stones!
So, I'm experimenting with different writing styles, and I'll be switching things up from time to time until I find the perfect fit. Also, I've been writing a bit more frequently—hope that makes you guys happy!
If there's anything you didn't like, have a question, a suggestion, or even some criticism, feel free to drop a comment! I always read them.