Marvel: Death Knight

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The heavy steel doors of the underground base reverberated with loud knocks. A group of armed individuals huddled behind the barricade, their weapons trembling in their hands. Most of them had no idea what kind of nightmare awaited them on the other side.

Suddenly, a frost-covered sword pierced through the thick metal, the screeching sound of tearing steel cutting through the tense silence.

As a jagged opening formed in the door, the first thing to emerge was a sharp, black claw—belonging to a summoned Gargoyle.

With Garus' growing strength, the creatures he summoned had become more formidable. These gargoyles, shrouded in an inky blackness that seemed to absorb light itself, weren't strictly undead. They were alchemical constructs driven by death magic, their obsidian bodies highly resistant to magic.

The gargoyle's immense strength rendered the reinforced steel door meaningless. Within moments, the creature widened the breach enough for Garus to enter.

"Open fire!" MODOK's voice roared through the base.

Bullets sprayed toward the two emerging gargoyles, but the creatures ignored them, lunging at the terrified defenders.

"Kallruth!" He turned to find his ally, General Kallruth of the Skrull forces, but the alien general was nowhere to be seen. A surge of fury swept over him. "Those treacherous bastards! You'll pay for betraying me!"

Yet, deep down, MODOK knew he was only venting his frustration. The Skrulls, even in their weakened state, were beyond his ability to confront.

Leaving his dwindling forces behind, MODOK activated his hover chair, retreating down a side passage.

As he neared the exit, a glowing green rune appeared before him. From within, a ghoul clawed its way out.

"Out of my way!" MODOK unleashed a barrage of firepower from his chair, obliterating the ghoul into fragments.

But as he glanced back, he saw the main hall filled with the corpses of his subordinates.

"Useless fools!" he spat, trembling with both rage and fear.

Garus entered the room, his gaze locking onto the floating figure before him.

"You must be MODOK," Garus said coldly, the Frostmourne in his hand exuding an ominous chill.

MODOK stopped running, realizing escape was futile. Instead, he sneered, "What's your connection to Wilson Fisk?"

Garus didn't answer. Instead, he raised Frostmourne, preparing to strike.

Before he could act, a beam of energy erupted from the gem embedded in MODOK's head, forcing Garus to shield himself.

"Die!" MODOK unleashed a volley of weapons fire from his chair.

Garus remained unfazed, commanding his gargoyles to shield him. Despite their resilience, the creatures began to crack under the relentless assault.

Summoning his protective spells—Bone Shield, Icebound Fortitude, and Blood Fortification—Garus charged forward, enduring the barrage.

When MODOK finally exhausted his ammunition, he turned and fled into the thick smoke filling the chamber.

By the time Garus cleared the smoke, MODOK had vanished.

"Coward," Garus muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

He reached a fork in the corridor and paused to consider. Rescuing Fisk and Wim could wait—MODOK could not be allowed to escape.

Arriving at the elevator shaft, Garus found the lift had been sabotaged. With no time to waste, he pried the doors open, cutting a hole in the ceiling of the elevator car to climb up. The steel cables had been severed, leaving him with no choice but to summon another gargoyle to carry him upward.

When Garus emerged onto the surface, a large transport plane was already preparing for takeoff.

"So quick to flee," Garus murmured, leaping onto the gargoyle's back to give chase.

The creature brought him above the transport just as it left the ground. Frostmourne easily pierced the aircraft's hull, carving a gaping hole.

As Garus prepared to enter, an invisible force repelled him, nearly sending him plummeting.

Acting quickly, he drove Frostmourne back into the plane's hull, anchoring himself.

The gargoyle, meanwhile, continued to tear apart the transport's structure. One of the wings soon snapped off, sending the plane spiraling toward the ground.

As the wreckage settled, Garus drove Frostmourne into the earth, unleashing a wave of death magic. Corpses—both recent and long-buried—rose from the ground, their hollow eyes burning with malevolent energy.

"Find MODOK," Garus commanded. "Rip him apart."

Screams of terror erupted from the wreckage.

"Get off me, you wretched things!" MODOK's voice was a mix of panic and fury, barely audible over the sound of undead tearing through the remnants of his defenses.

Garus turned away, his focus shifting back to rescuing Fisk and Wim.

Following his telepathic link to Fisk, Garus arrived at a foul-smelling chamber filled with restless spirits.

"Boss!" Wim shouted, his relief palpable as he spotted Garus. "It wasn't me! The version of me at the company—it's a fake!"

"Step aside," Garus said curtly. "I don't want to hit you by mistake."

"Master!" Fisk's deep voice carried a note of embarrassment. Bound by thick chains, he looked every bit the prisoner. "I've been careless. Despite the power you granted me, I was still captured."

Garus shook his head. "Your strength is wasted if you don't train. I've amplified your body with death magic, but you've yet to master it."

Fisk lowered his head. "I'll make time to train, I swear."

After freeing them, Garus led the group to the surface. Passing the remains of MODOK's forces, Wim shuddered.

"What are those things, Boss? Zombies?"

"They won't harm us," Garus replied. "They'll revert to corpses soon enough."

As they crossed the frozen lake, Wim hesitated. "Wouldn't it be faster to use the boat?"

Garus paused awkwardly. "This way is faster."

As they departed, Garus glanced at the wreckage of the Skrull ship he had noticed earlier.

"The Skrulls," he muttered. "They were here, but where are they now? A shame—I could've used that ship."

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