The Golden Destroyer

The Roar of the Golden Terror

The roar thundered through the night like a furious storm, shattering the peaceful silence of an American town nestled in the heart of Kansas. The inhabitants, most still asleep, were violently jolted awake by vibrations so intense they cracked windows and made the ground tremble.

At the center of this chaos, a titanic silhouette stood, imposing as a pyramid. Three immense, serpentine heads, crowned with golden scales, howled in harmony a terrifying symphony. Each cry seemed to permeate the air with an almost divine energy. The sky itself began to change, storm clouds swirling around the monster, while golden lightning danced in the atmosphere. The beating of the creature's wings displaced a massive amount of air, adding to the chaos.

As if awakening from a nightmare, the dragon abruptly opened three pairs of eyes, abyssal red. With a glance, it swept over the landscape around it, with a look promising carnage. During this inspection, its eyes landed on the town's power plant, and it felt an irresistible hunger at the sight of all that energy.

With a sharp motion, it plunged its gaping maw onto the power plant and absorbed all the energy in one gulp. Plunging the entire area into darkness and triggering an EMP wave scrambling all electronic devices around.

As it exulted in the harvested energy, suddenly its instinct was supplanted by a thought it should never have had.

What am I? Why am I here?

—

Jonathan Parker was a 32-year-old mechanical engineer who had no memory of his death. He only remembered a sudden pain—an accident? A disease? It didn't matter. The essential thing was what he was seeing now through multiple eyes.

He raised one of his immense heads and saw his reflection in a nearby river. Three heads. Three gaping maws bristling with fangs. Immense and majestic wings, made to dominate the sky. An armor of golden scales reflecting the light of the lightning that seemed to spring from his own body.

"I am… Ghidorah?" *Fuck*. I'm a freaking Kaiju!

A wave of horror seized him. Not just because he had become a legendary monster, but because he didn't know how he had gotten there. The appearance of the small town and the scattered clues gave him no clear idea, no clue as to where he was.

And he had just appeared in a monstrous form. In a few minutes, the army or Godzilla would surely come asking questions.

Jonathan felt a growing panic invade him. He had to calm down. He had to return to human form, if he still could (and he didn't want to die). For nearly a minute, he tried again and again. Concentration was difficult: every thought was drowned out by a cacophony of animal instincts and a primal desire for destruction. But finally, he succeeded.

The transformation was brutal. His titanic body seemed to implode on itself, releasing a torrent of lightning, every muscle contracting painfully as he shrank. A few seconds later, he was naked, trembling, and curled up, lying at the center of a smoking crater, in a ruined town.

—

The Next Day

The news quickly spread across news channels and social media. The blurry images of a draconic creature, captured by residents' smartphones, went viral in a few hours. The country and much of the world were worried. A dragon had destroyed a town in just five minutes of presence—there was reason to worry. Especially as conspiracy theorists and experts were fanning the flames, increasing the general panic.

Nick Fury

In a dark office in the Triskelion, Nick Fury watched the videos with a mixture of fascination and alarm.

"What is that, Maria? Another Stark weapon?"

Maria Hill, standing beside him, shook her head, a grave expression on her face.

"No, sir. Stark has nothing to do with this. This thing is…"

She hesitated, searching for her words.

"Alive."

Fury stared at the screen, his thoughts racing. He was already preoccupied with the emergence of superhumans and extraterrestrial threats. But now? A three-headed dragon seemed straight out of a mythological nightmare, to wreak havoc by destroying everything.

"Assemble an observation team," Fury ordered. "I want to know where it is now. And, Maria… make sure Stark doesn't do anything stupid."

Charles Xavier

In his mansion, Charles Xavier watched Cerebra with growing concern. Beside him, Ororo Munroe wore a worried face.

"Professor? Do you think this entity is a threat to the world?"

Reflecting on Storm's words, Charles Xavier put on the helmet and extended his mind, seeking to capture the mental presence of this new entity. What he found terrified him.

A fragmented, half-human, half-monster consciousness, enveloped in a veil of chaos and raw power. It was a strange entity torn between fear, megalomania, guilt, caution, and a primal desire for domination.

"He is singular. He is not a mutant," Xavier murmured, swallowing hard. "He was able to spot me and expelled me from his mind. At the moment, he is too contradictory to establish a profile of his intentions. But nonetheless, he is a calamity, whatever his inclinations."

The Ancient One

At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One observed the events with serenity. She knew this golden dragon was not a simple creature. She could feel the cosmic energy emanating from it, a young and untamed force of nature.

"A being out of time and place. But one who has been catapulted here by forces beyond our understanding," she murmured. "He will bring either destruction or balance. It will all depend on his choice."

She turned to Mordo, who stood nearby.

"Find him. But be careful. This is not an enemy we can face lightly."

Heimdall

In Asgard, Heimdall watched Earth from the Bifrost. His piercing eyes saw everything, and what he saw did not please him.

"Thor must be informed," he said simply. "This creature… it is unknown to me."

—

Meanwhile, Jonathan had managed to find refuge in a dilapidated motel on the outskirts of town. He had stolen clothes and some money from a nearby laundromat and was now trying to gather his thoughts.

He was still trembling, not only from the mental exhaustion of the transformation, but also from what he had felt in that other form. An almost divine power, a desire for destruction he had never known before.

"If I lose control…" he thought, a lump in his throat.

He didn't finish his thought. The implications were too terrifying.

Jonathan turned on the television, hoping to understand the extent of the damage he had caused. The poor-quality images of his monstrous appearance were everywhere. Every channel was talking about it. Experts were already debating what he was. An extraterrestrial? A mutation? A god?

And then there were the conspiracy theories. Some claimed that the American government, in collaboration with Stark Industries, had created this monster. Others saw it as a biblical prophecy.

Jonathan turned off the television, feeling increasingly overwhelmed.

*I can't stay here.*

Suddenly something clicked in his mind; he had been so distraught that he had overlooked it.

The commentator just said Stark Industries. As in Tony Stark, as in Marvel.

At this realization, Jonathan curled up on the bed, a question looping in his mind:

Why me? Why did I become this?

In his mind, a whisper arose, a voice he didn't recognize.

"You are the Golden Terror. You are not meant to walk among them. You are destined to dominate them."

Jonathan sat up abruptly, his heart pounding.

No. No! I am not a monster.

But he wasn't sure how long he could keep that promise.