NOVEL WEB Chapter 18: Chapter 18: "Cosmic Hunger and Galactic Grace" (Revised)
The freezer's icy ruin sank into a brittle hush, Bobby's frosty bite a fading shiver as he spun the Mask in his hand, its grin glinting off jagged ice. The Iceman's quip—"I'll cool you down again"—lingered like a cold snap as he slid it on, green light erupting, the zoot suit snapping into place with a reckless flare. "Time to face the devourer," he murmured, kicking aside splintered crates into the open night.
A vast hum swallowed the sky—cosmic, relentless, rattling the city's bones. Darkness bled across the stars, and Galactus emerged, a colossus against the void, his helmet a cold gleam under the fractured heavens. The Silver Surfer streaked ahead, a silver arrow slicing the air, his board humming with purpose. "Your chaos beckons me," Galactus intoned, voice a tremor that buckled the street, violet energy surging from his hands—buildings warped, glass raining in a jagged cascade.
The Mask's rasp cut through his mind, wild and eager: "Big eater's here, kid. Outshine him." "Galactus, huh?" he fired back, stretching an arm to weave through a cosmic beam, asphalt liquefying where it struck. "Masquerade—chaos doesn't bow!" The charisma surged, a rogue flare, but Galactus' gaze stayed unyielding, a void of hunger. The Surfer darted, board slashing—he bent fluidly, unleashing a vortex of green chaos that snared him, hurling him into a rooftop with a metallic crunch. Galactus struck—a wave of force shattering the street—and he countered with a pulse of shimmering tendrils, clashing against the titan's armor in a burst of futile sparks.
The air quaked, the Surfer rising, when a soft glow pierced the fray—Mantis floated down, green skin shimmering, antennae quivering with quiet intent. Her empathy brushed his green haze, a gentle tide syncing with his chaos. "Your chaos… sings," she said, voice a whisper that carried like a breeze, cutting through the cosmic din. The Mask purred, low and ravenous: "She's a feeler, kid. Draw her in."
"Mantis?" he laughed, dodging the Surfer's next arc, silver grazing the air. "Cosmic soul with the touch? I'm Masquerade—chaos is my melody!" Her empathy flared, weaving with his tendrils, caught in the pull—a flicker of wonder lit her dark eyes. "You're… vibrant," she murmured, her calm bending under his wild resonance. Galactus bellowed, "Cease this disruption!" but he seized her hand, stretching them through a wall into a rooftop garden as the Surfer's beam scorched the edge they'd left.
The garden was a fragile oasis—vines curling around a trellis, flowers swaying under a cracked skylight, the city's pulse a faint whisper beyond. Mantis pressed him against the trellis, her delicate strength a quiet storm, tearing his suit with hands that trembled with feeling. "You're a tempest," she whispered, but her lips found his, a soft crash of stardust and serenity, her empathy surging through the kiss. His shirt shredded under her touch, and he tugged her tunic down—fabric peeled away, baring green skin kissed by a faint, celestial glow, her breath a quiver as his hands traced her—over lithe curves, sinking into her radiant warmth, fingers clawing at her cosmic core.
"Tempests harmonize," he growled, lifting her with a surge. Her legs locked around him, thighs pulsing with subtle power, and they crashed onto a weathered bench—wood groaned, vines curling tighter around them. Her tunic fell fully, light shimmering off her form, and he stripped her bare—her skin glowed, a starlit grace pulsing beneath. His mouth roamed—neck, chest, the seam where empathy met flesh—drawing a moan, soft and deep, resonating with a distant hum of the stars. When he entered—slow, then fierce—her cry was a ripple of light, flowers blooming wildly around them, petals scattering in the air.
The Mask blazed, amplifying every jolt—the radiant sear of her core, the tremor of her gasps, the grinding rhythm as she met him, serene yet unyielding. The garden twisted—vines writhing, air shimmering with stardust—as she rode him, antennae quivering, eyes glowing with empathetic want. Her climax pulsed like a nova's birth, light surging, shaking the rooftop with a gentle quake, and he spilled into her, a flood that made the Mask howl, green sparks threading through her celestial glow. A seed took root, chaos and empathy fused, and they slumped, slick with sweat, her weight atop him a tender, humming anchor.
Mantis' eyes softened, her smirk a faint gleam of warmth. "You're a song, Masquerade—too wild to mute." "Songs need a soul," he grinned, her light still dancing in his veins. She rose, tunic reforming in a shimmer of starlight, her glance a blend of peace and yearning. "I'll sing with you again." She floated off, a silhouette against the night, leaving him with the Mask, its voice a smug hum: "Eighteen down, kid. The cosmos trembles."
He stood, the garden a riot of overgrowth, Galactus' hunger a fading rumble beyond the skyline. Mantis' grace, Bobby's frost, Jean's fire, Venom's bite, Pepper's spark, Nebula's steel, Psylocke's edge, Kitty's phase, Emma's mind, Sue's shield, Gamora's blade, Rogue's touch, Carol's radiance, Mystique's fluidity, Storm's storm, Wanda's magic, Natasha's steel—the world buckled under his chaos. Thanos loomed, SHIELD hunted, and the X-Men circled. He slid the Mask back on, grin sharp as a comet's tail. "Time to orchestrate the void."