Thunder echoed across the sky as oppressive, dark clouds gathered like an army of shadows. They roiled and churned violently, as though the heavens themselves had sensed an intruder step foot into the mist-shrouded land.
The screams of the undead pierced the air. Thousands of ghostly wails echoed through the clouds, each one laced with agony and madness. Ominous purple lightning forked through the sky, exploding between the clouds in wild surges of energy.
It was like watching the end of the world unfold—hell had cracked open above them.
Below, hideous creatures began to emerge from the fog. Some crawled, others slithered, some floated, while others stood towering like beasts of nightmares. Their grotesque bodies seemed pieced together from hatred and pain, twisted into forms that should not exist.
And when their soulless eyes spotted humans—flesh and blood among the rot—they let out inhuman howls.
"Humans!"
"Fresh flesh… fresh soul!"
"I want her body! I want her soul!"
"Jie jie jie jie!"
The horde surged forward in a frenzy, all descending upon the lone motorcycle speeding across the cracked road through the heart of the black mist.
From above, Tony Stark watched it all from his MK Nova armor. The sheer number of undead and demons covering the land was staggering—rooftops, rivers, trees, and even the air seemed filled with writhing evil.
"Holy hell…" he muttered. "This is worse than anything I imagined."
Even he, in all his arrogance, began to wonder if he'd been too reckless.
But then he looked down.
At the streak of golden light slicing through the darkness.
Bella.
Unshaken. Unrelenting. Her motorcycle blazed forward like a comet streaking through a void of despair. Alone in the chaos, she didn't slow, didn't falter. The fog swallowed everything, but not her.
And Tony clenched his jaw. "I'm not backing out now."
He had spoken to the world once, exposed his identity as Iron Man, and in doing so, accepted the path that came with it.
Even if he had to follow her into hell itself.
BOOM!
Golden light erupted from the motorcycle, swirling around its black armor. It became a radiant arrow of power, slicing through rows of demons like divine retribution. Each creature that dared stand in its path was torn apart by the holy glow.
The darkness screamed in pain.
From above, Tony deployed a barrage of miniature Holy Light missiles. His shoulder panels hissed open, revealing twenty pods shaped like speartips. With a whine of energy, they launched in sequence—each one trailing white-hot vapor as it screamed toward the earth.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The missiles detonated in the middle of a ruined neighborhood, obliterating the remnants of houses and turning hundreds of demons into ash. Fire and light surged like a tidal wave.
Below, Bella took a deep breath. She was now surrounded.
The intersection of this small, long-abandoned town was crawling with death. Under the dim, desaturated sky, the buildings were pitch-black silhouettes, each window filled with countless red eyes. The rooftops, the alleyways, even the street gutters—all teemed with undead.
Ten kilometers of pure evil.
But to Bella, this wasn't hell.
This was opportunity.
Without a word, she clicked her heel down and deployed the parking tripod on her motorcycle. She swung one long leg over the bike and stood tall amidst the fog.
Her white V-shaped mask turned slightly as she scanned her surroundings.
Demons snarled from every direction. In the swirling whispers of the fog, she could hear them—laughing, growling, hissing her name.
She rolled her neck slowly.
Ding—
With a light touch on the motorcycle's side, a hidden compartment clicked open on the front frame. Inside were two embedded handles—one blood-red, the other pure white.
She reached for them without hesitation.
In one smooth motion, she drew the weapons: twin handguns—extended, elegant, and deadly. Fourteen inches in length, they dwarfed standard firearms. Longer than a Desert Eagle, broader in frame, they radiated presence.
Their design was sleek and angular, three slanted notches etched into each side like claw marks. 12.7mm caliber barrels glinted with metal light.
They weren't just guns—they were statements.
These were Holy Light weapons, engineered by Tony's AI J.A.R.V.I.S., calibrated to Bella's combat signature. Instead of bullets, they transformed her magic power through a custom-built internal algorithm.
No standard material could survive the strain—these were reinforced with titanium alloy, laced with shards of Holy Light Stone, capable of holding her energy.
Most spells would cost her a full charge.
These weapons did it with a third of the power.
Of course, that efficiency came at a cost. If the magic input exceeded the core's tolerance, the guns would shatter. They were excellent against dark creatures—vampires, demons, the undead—but not suited for boss-tier threats.
Still, they were beautiful.
Tony had even named them.
The red one: Bloody Rose.
The white one: Goddess of War.
Bella had rolled her eyes at first—but she had to admit, the names stuck.
She raised both guns.
"It's time to hunt," she whispered.
The demons heard her.
They howled as if in outrage, their shrieks piercing the soul. Pale hands clawed from the mist, spectral fingers reaching to drag her into the abyss. Whispered curses echoed in her ears, promising torment, madness, and death.
But Bella didn't flinch.
She fired.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Bloody Rose flared with red energy, burning like wildfire. The Goddess of War shimmered with pure white radiance, each bullet cutting through the air like the sword of an angel.
Twin streaks of magic shot out in all directions—beams of light and flame crisscrossing through the mist.
Each shot was a storm.
Each pull of the trigger carved down half a dozen demons.
The fog ignited in bursts of gold, crimson, and white. Bodies fell. Screams echoed. And through it all, Bella stood like a goddess descended to bring reckoning.
The hunt had begun.
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