New Star In Marvel

Chapter 201: God-Level Reality Twister? The Mesopotamian God of Air!

[Miss?]

[Oh my God.]

[Miss?]

[Don't stop, Skinner! I repeat—don't stop! Don't shut down the stabilizer field or we'll lose control of the object!]

[Madam, what's happening? Madam? Madam!]

[Reducing Hume field to 1.7. I'm going in now. Don't cut the field or this thing will destabilize!]

The woman's voice over the communication system changed from confusion to shock, then to terror and grief within seconds. By the end, she was practically screaming.

The audience watching the live broadcast knew something terrible had happened.

She understood what she was seeing.

She recognized the structure—the old Lang-Scranton Stabilizer, one of the earliest models.

But… had she recognized something else?

[Uh, yes ma'am! Mechanical roar This is Dr. Matthew Skinner, reporting—wait—what is this thing?]

There was a sound of splashing footsteps, followed by gasps.

[Oh my God, what is this… what is this?! Robert?! ROBERT?! Is that you?! Oh my God, please no… this isn't you, Robert! Please don't—oh, God! How can this be—?!]

The room filled with the sound of dripping liquid, and a buzzer blared in the background.

[Madam, please step away! You shouldn't touch that—]

A calm, mechanical voice interrupted:

[This is the main interface of the Lang-Scranton Stabilizer. Welcome back, Dr. Lang. Do you wish to continue?]

Everyone watching could imagine the scene now—

A grief-stricken scientist rushing into the containment chamber, her footsteps echoing through the blood-smeared floor as she approached the machine.

She fell to her knees before the LSS device.

[Access audio log, playing January 2, 2000…]

Static.

[Oh my God… what happened to this thing? It looks like someone exploded on it—like—]

[Breathing] "That… that's… oh God, no, please, no… it's gray, his gray eye—oh God, where's the other one?!"

Her voice broke. She already knew whose remains those were.

January 2, 2000—the day her husband, Dr. Robert Scranton, disappeared.

Then, a sudden electronic tone echoed from the device:

[Accessing audio file. Please speak your password to continue, Dr. Lang.]

She trembled, forcing herself to breathe and whispered:

[The password is "Anna Popanna." Oh my God… he's everywhere. What's going on?]

The system responded:

[Processing… Sorry. No audio log found for January 2, 2000. The file was accessed by Dr. Scranton on January 13, 2000.]

The audience in the Marvel world tensed immediately.

Everyone knew what that meant—Robert Scranton had been alive inside that void after the date they thought he'd died.

The playback continued.

[Play it back, damn it! Sobbing Oh God, Robert, honey, what did you do—?]

[Confirming, Dr. Lang. Retrieving audio file…]

[Madam, please don't touch that! You're in danger! Wait for the team!]

[There's so much blood… honey, can you hear me? Where are you? Oh God… splashing, wiping noises What is this? Oh—oh no—]

Then silence.

Twenty long seconds of silence.

[Madam! Dr. Lang! Please leave the area—]

[His hand… his ring… it fell off…]

Inside S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, Natasha Romanoff covered her mouth, tears in her eyes.

Nick Fury stood beside her, grim-faced. "At least," he muttered, "he didn't lose the ring."

[Dr. Lang, please respond! We're sending medical assistance!]

Then, the footage froze.

The world watching fell into stunned silence.

They had just seen how the Void consumed a human soul—how love and grief could twist into horror.

Robert Scranton's suffering was no longer just words in an SCP file—it was a man being erased by nothingness.

He broke, rebuilt himself, broke again, and kept going out of love for his wife.

That love made his suffering even more unbearable.

SCP-3001, known as Red Reality, embodied the three greatest human fears:

Endless loneliness, endless pain, and endless loss.

The story didn't just horrify the audience—it devastated them emotionally.

It began with obscure science—reality distortion, Hume levels—but ended with a gut-punch of tragedy.

Nick Fury finally understood why O5-10 had smirked when mentioning SCP-3001.

She knew it wasn't just a document—it was a psychological torture for anyone who truly understood it.

Fury sighed. "Maybe that was her way of teaching James a lesson about respect."

O5-10's plan worked.

Not only James, but the entire Marvel world felt crushed by the emotional weight of that file.

---

James closed the file and rubbed his temples. Fatigue clouded his usually calm face.

He walked out of his quarters at Site-17 and sought out his two closest friends.

"You look like hell," Lois said bluntly. "What happened to you?"

Zyn glanced up, equally worried. "You okay, man?"

"Let's grab a drink," James muttered. "Outside."

Lois blinked in surprise. "Whoa. Outside? I was gonna say I just got paid, but—yeah, sure."

The screen faded to black.

When it lit up again, James, Lois, and Zyn were sitting in a noisy downtown bar.

Music thumped through the walls, the lights shimmered, and laughter filled the air.

For once, it felt normal.

Even S.H.I.E.L.D agents watching from the monitoring room breathed easier.

Natasha exhaled softly. "God, it's been so long since I felt something like this."

Nick Fury gave a tired smile. "Maybe that's exactly what he needs."

But despite the noise, James sat silently, his face distant.

He stared into the bottle in his hand as if it held the universe.

Lois nudged him playfully. "What's up, man? You look like you're haunted."

James didn't answer right away. He turned the bottle, the amber light reflecting in his eyes.

He wanted to say something profound—but before he could—

A loud male voice echoed across the bar.

"What? You think I'm bluffing?! I am Ashur! The great Mesopotamian God of Air!"

The entire bar went silent.

"Get lost, you drunk!" someone yelled. "If you're a god, then I'm Poseidon!"

Another shouted, "Yeah, watch me drown you in my beer, you idiot!"

Laughter erupted—then shouting—then punches.

Within seconds, the bar turned into chaos.

Lois jumped onto the table, cheering. "Haha! Finally, a real brawl! Kick his butt!"

Zyn sighed and turned to James. "I swear, we attract trouble."

James nodded wearily. "Let's get out of here before—"

But before he could finish, a shrill alarm went off.

Beep—beep—beep!

Zyn looked down at the device on her wrist—the Kant Counter, used by Foundation agents to measure Hume levels, the stability of reality itself.

Her eyes widened in horror. "No way…"

The readings spiked—999 Humes.

Everyone froze. Even the live-stream viewers watching from home lost their minds.

"999?! That's impossible!"

"This thing's off the scale!"

"Did it malfunction?"

"No way—there's no mistake!"

Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha's voice shook. "Nick… what's the Hume level of SCP-239?"

Fury swallowed hard. "Five hundred."

The room went dead silent.

A Reality Bender capable of shaping the world like clay—a godlike being—had a Hume level of 500.

So what did it mean when someone measured 999?

Everyone had the same horrifying thought—something beyond godlike had appeared.

And then—

BOOM!!!

The screen exploded with motion.

A roaring storm tore through the bar, ripping walls apart and blowing glass across the street.

Tables and chairs flew into the air like leaves. The building's roof disintegrated.

Winds screamed like a hurricane, flinging everyone into chaos.

People screamed, ducked, ran—some were thrown straight out the shattered windows.

Within seconds, the cozy bar was gone—replaced by a swirling cyclone of power.

James, Lois, and Zyn could only stare.

Zyn fumbled for her radio. "Report! We've got a Reality Bender—possible Level Five!"

Her voice trembled as she read the data. "Level Five confirmed! Repeat—Level Five!"

The audience watching lost their minds.

A Level Five Reality Bender—a being who could alter existence itself—had just appeared before their eyes.

In the S.H.I.E.L.D command room, Nick Fury stood up so fast his chair fell backward.

His expression was pale with realization.

He whispered: "Ashur… the Mesopotamian God of Air…"

And at that moment, everyone watching finally understood.

This wasn't a drunk man.

It wasn't an anomaly or a random power surge.

It was a god—a true god-level Reality Twister—manifesting in the modern world.

The storm continued to rage, tearing through the night, while alarms blared from every Foundation site across the globe.

And as the screen flickered with static, one final sentence appeared across the bottom:

"Level Five Reality Bender Confirmed: Codename—Ashur, the God of Air."

---

End of Chapter 201

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