NOVEL WEB Chapter 6: Chapter 6: "Cosmic Sparks and Green Fire"
Jake Carter—Masquerade—stood on the creaking stage of the abandoned theater, the air still humming with Mystique's shapeshifting echo. Raven Darkhölme's fluid touch lingered on his skin—her shifting forms, her final tease: "Chaos suits me." The Mask pulsed in his hand, its grin slick with stage dust, its voice a gleeful rasp: "Five queens in your court, kid—Natasha, Wanda, Jean, Ororo, Raven. Each one's got a spark of your madness now. Ready to light up the stars?"
Jake's head spun, a mix of exhilaration and vertigo. Five women—five nights of chaos-driven passion—and the Mask's talk of "sparks" was no longer a vague hint. He was sowing a lineage across the 616, a brood of chaos-born kids that could rewrite this universe's rules. He slapped the Mask on, green light flaring as his zoot suit spun into place, and grinned despite the weight. "Guess I'm the green king of Marvel," he muttered, stepping over splintered wood into the shadows. The theater's silence broke with a distant roar—quinjet engines, SHIELD closing the net—but a brighter streak cut the sky: a golden flare, fast and fierce.
The roof exploded inward, debris raining as a figure landed hard, pavement cracking under her boots. Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, glowed with cosmic energy—blonde hair whipping, blue-and-red suit hugging a body forged by Kree power. Her fists crackled, eyes blazing with gold as she scanned the dark. "You're the anomaly," she said, voice sharp and commanding. "SHIELD's got a file on you—Romanoff's report, psychic disturbances, Loki's tantrums. I'm here to shut it down."
Jake's jaw dropped, the Mask cackling: "Oh, she's a star, kid. Cosmic chaos—perfect match. Reel her in." "Captain Marvel?" he blurted, voice a mix of awe and hunger. "Space queen herself? Name's Masquerade, chaos incarnate. Just jazzing up this 616 mess—saved Black Widow, danced with Wanda, burned with Jean, stormed with Ororo, twisted with Mystique. You here to punch or play?" The Mask's charisma pulsed, and Carol's eyes narrowed, a flicker of intrigue softening her stance.
"I felt your energy from orbit," she said, stepping closer, glow dimming slightly. "It's not tech, not magic—something raw. What are you?" Her cosmic aura brushed his chaos, green tendrils clashing with her gold, and Jake felt the Mask push back, amplifying his presence. "Just a guy with a wild face," he grinned, stretching an arm cartoonishly long to snag a chandelier, swinging up for flair. "Wanna see it shine?" He conjured a cartoon star, tossing it skyward—it burst into green fireworks, lighting the theater.
Carol's lips twitched, caught by his audacity. "You're a threat," she said, fists unclenching, "but you're… interesting." She fired a photon blast—testing him—and Jake dodged, body bending like rubber, retaliating with a giant boxing glove that punched the air near her. The theater shook, their powers clashing—green chaos warping reality, cosmic energy bending it—and sparks flew, electric and primal.
Before they could escalate, the air thrummed—SHIELD quinjets roaring overhead, spotlights slicing through the hole Carol had made. Maria Hill's voice boomed: "Captain Danvers, detain the target. Lethal force authorized." Agents dropped in, rappelling with heavier gear—stun cannons, containment nets—and Jake smirked, the Mask purring: "Party's getting crowded. Let's dazzle 'em." "Lethal force? Again?" he quipped, stretching his legs to leap atop a balcony. "You guys need new lines." He conjured a cartoon cannon, firing pies that splattered agents in sticky chaos, gumming their tech.
Carol blasted upward, intercepting him mid-air, her grip iron as she pinned him to a wall. "You're reckless," she growled, but her eyes locked on his, cosmic gold meeting green madness. "Reckless is my charm, starshine," he said, voice low, the Mask's pull slamming into her. Her breath hitched, energy pulsing in sync with his chaos. "Feel that? We're a supernova together." Maria barked orders below, agents regrouping, but Carol's resolve wavered, her glow softening. "You're trouble," she murmured, a mix of warning and want.
The Mask purred: "She's hooked, kid. Seal it." Jake grinned, tugging her into a shadowed alcove as SHIELD swarmed the stage. "Stick with me, Carol. Let's burn bright."
Minutes later, they were in a derelict penthouse nearby—city lights glinting through cracked windows, dust swirling in the air. Carol shoved Jake against a wall, her cosmic strength rattling the frame, hands tearing his suit open. "You're insane," she growled, but her lips crashed into his, hot and forceful, tasting of stardust and resolve. His shirt hit the floor, and he yanked her suit down, blue-and-red fabric pooling at her waist, revealing tanned skin and curves honed by battle. Her breath hitched as his hands roamed—up her spine, gripping her hips—nails digging in as she pressed against him, glowing faintly.
"Insane's my superpower," he rasped, lifting her. Her legs locked around him, thighs flexing with Kree-enhanced power, and they crashed onto a moth-eaten couch, springs snapping. She tore his pants free, and he peeled her suit off fully, baring her—golden energy flickered along her skin, warm and teasing. His mouth found her neck, her breasts, tracing the heat until she moaned, a sound that echoed with cosmic depth. When he entered her—slow, then deep—her cry was raw, photon blasts sparking, scorching the ceiling. The Mask surged, sharpening every pulse—the heat of her core, the rhythm of her gasps, the slick friction as she moved with him, fierce and relentless.
The penthouse warped—walls bending, windows rattling—as she rode him, hair wild, eyes blazing gold. Her climax hit like a starburst, energy erupting, cracking the floor, and he followed, spilling into her with a rush that made the Mask roar, green sparks melding with her glow. A seed took root, chaos and cosmic power entwined, and they collapsed, sweat-slick and panting, her weight atop him a radiant anchor.
Carol traced a burn on his chest, her smirk faint but real. "You're a supernova, Masquerade. Too bright to handle." "Supernovas need a spark," he grinned, savoring her warmth. She rose, energy cloaking her as she dressed, tossing him a look—half-challenge, half-longing. "SHIELD won't stop. Neither will I." She blasted off through the window, leaving him with the Mask, its voice smug: "Six down, kid. The cosmos is watching."
Jake stood, the penthouse smoldering, SHIELD's pursuit muffled by distance. Carol's radiance, Mystique's fluidity, Storm's storm, Jean's fire, Wanda's magic, Natasha's steel—the 616 was cracking under his chaos. Loki schemed, SHIELD hunted, and something bigger stirred—faint tremors in the air, a cosmic eye turning his way. He slapped the Mask back on, grinning wide. "Let's light up the sky."