Falling in Marvel

Good luck

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-The Void-

Darius stumbled across the warped, unstable terrain of the Void, every step dragging as exhaustion settled in. His mind reeled from everything that had happened. The TVA. The pruning. The Void.

'Did the Ancient One know this would happen? Did she know they'd come for me?'

The thought gnawed at him. She hadn't seemed surprised when he arrived at the Sanctum maybe she had seen it in her infinite wisdom. Maybe she had used him as bait to lure them.

His fists clenched. "Damn it…" he muttered under his breath, the anger simmering beneath his exhaustion.

Ahead, a cluster of figures emerged, their silhouettes flickering like ghosts against the stormy sky. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure if they were real or just another trick of this warped place.

"Hey!" one of them called, waving an arm. "Over here!"

Cautiously, he approached. The group consisted of survivors like him, their clothes tattered and faces worn from years of struggle in the Void.

"You're new," the leader said a scruffy man with piercing eyes and a staff fashioned from debris. "Name's Jonas. You're lucky we found you before something else did."

"Yeah, lucky," Darius muttered, keeping his distance.

Jonas chuckled dryly. "No need to be paranoid. We've all been through the same thing. TVA got you, didn't they? Sent you here to rot."

"Something like that," Darius said.

"Well, stick with us. We've carved out a little safe zone. Better than wandering out here alone and getting swallowed up by Alioth."

Darius hesitated but followed. He didn't trust them couldn't but what choice did he have?

-The Camp-

The survivors' camp was a ramshackle collection of tents and makeshift barricades, set up in the shadow of a crumbling building. Fires burned in metal barrels, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

Jonas led Darius to the center of the camp, where a few other survivors gathered. He introduced Darius briefly before offering him some stale bread and water.

"You'll be safe here," Jonas said.

But Darius wasn't so sure. The way the others eyed him calculating, wary it put him on edge.

As the hours passed, he noticed the group subtly moving around him, their whispered conversations cutting off whenever he approached.

'They're planning something,' he realized.

Jonas gestured for Darius to sit. "You'll rest here. But if you're staying, you pull your weight. We don't take freeloaders."

"Fine," Darius said, lowering himself onto a crumbling bench.

He looked around, observing the survivors each a hollow shell of desperation. A woman cradled a weapon fashioned from scrap metal, her eyes darting to every shadow. A muscular man leaned against a wall, sharpening a jagged blade. The others whispered among themselves, casting wary glances at him.

Darius's stomach churned. The pitiful fire and makeshift camp offered little solace against the oppressive weight of the Void.

'I can't stay here,' he thought. 'They're just like me waiting to die.'

Later, as the camp settled into uneasy quiet, Jonas approached him.

"You're an outsider," Jonas said, crouching beside him. His sharp eyes gleamed in the firelight. "But you seem… resourceful."

"Not sure what you're getting at," Darius replied, keeping his tone neutral.

Jonas leaned closer. "We found something. A way out of this hellhole. But we need another pair of hands. You in?"

Darius hesitated, suspicion flickering in his mind. But the promise of escape was too tempting to ignore. "What's the catch?"

Jonas smirked. "No catch. Just survival."

-Gate-

Jonas led Darius and the others deeper into the ruins, where the Void seemed darker, heavier. The group stopped in front of what looked like a collapsed gateway a massive, ancient structure crackling faintly with unstable energy.

"This," Jonas said, gesturing to the structure. "This can get us out. We just need to stabilize it."

"How?" Darius asked, stepping closer.

Jonas's smirk widened. "Sacrifice."

Before Darius could react, rough hands grabbed him from behind, slamming him to the ground. His head hit the jagged surface, stars bursting in his vision.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, struggling against the weight of the survivors pinning him.

"Nothing personal," Jonas said, standing over him. "You're just the newest addition. Easier this way."

Darius thrashed, panic and fury mixing in his chest. "You lying bastards!"

The survivors chanted, their voices rising as the gateway flared with chaotic energy. The air crackled, thick with the stench of ozone.

"No!" Darius shouted, his voice hoarse. "This isn't how I die!"

But their grip tightened, forcing him closer to the gateway. His body ached, his strength failing as he felt the pull of the unstable energy.

Pain tore through him, raw and unrelenting. The energy of the gateway burned against his skin, and the betrayal of the survivors cut deep.

"Damn you!" he spat, his voice breaking. His vision blurred, the world spinning around him.

Anger surged through him, hotter than the energy pulling at his body. Anger at the survivors, at the TVA, at the Ancient One who had sent him on this path.

"You think this ends with me?!" he roared, his voice echoing unnaturally in the Void. "I'll see all of you burn! The TVA, this cursed place all of it! I'll tear it all apart!"

The air grew cold, unnaturally still.

Then, a voice deep, resonant, and ancient filled the void.

"Such anger. Such potential."

The survivors froze, their chanting silenced. A dark, towering presence materialized behind the gateway, its form coalescing from shadow and flame.

Darius's breath hitched as he stared up at the figure.

"I have been watching you, Darius Stone," the voice said, its tone dripping with malice and power. "And I have an offer."

The survivors backed away, terror etched into their faces. The figure stepped forward, its dark tendrils reaching out as the gateway crumbled behind it.

"Who… who are you?" Darius managed to whisper, his voice trembling.

"I am Chthon," the being replied, its eyes glowing like molten fire. "And I can give you what you desire."