Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Meteor

In the valley, within the makeshift camp of the Ten Rings…

Two sentinels leaned against a rough rock wall, the tips of their cheap cigarettes glowing like embers in the dark. They murmured to each other in their local tongue, their words swallowed by the vast emptiness of the desert night. A cold wind swept through the canyon, carrying with it the whisper of sand skittering across stone.

One of the men glanced up at the star-dusted sky and suddenly went rigid.

“What is that?” he breathed, his finger trembling as he pointed upward.

Against the deep velvet of the night, a single “star” was moving.

No, not just moving—it was falling.

A point of brilliant gold, it dragged a long, fiery tail behind it, growing larger and brighter with every passing moment.

“A meteor?” the other man asked, his gaze following his partner’s.

It took them only a second to realize something was terribly wrong. This was no random celestial event. The meteor was descending on a perfect, vertical trajectory, and its destination was the very ground they stood on. It was falling with an unnatural, terrifying velocity.

“It’s coming right for us!” the first man screamed, his voice cracking with terror.

His shout shattered the camp’s quiet. Tents were thrown open as men scrambled out, their faces turning towards the sky. The golden speck of light was now the size of a fist, and it was still expanding, swelling into a terrifying orb of fire.

“Take cover!” someone shrieked.

But it was far too late.

Golden flames wrapped around Mavuika like a divine shroud, her long, crimson hair streaming behind her like a comet’s tail. She made no attempt to slow her descent, no effort to alter her course. She was a living meteorite, aimed at the heart of the camp.

With a final, silent rush, she struck the open ground in the center of the terrorist encampment.

And then, the meteor landed.

“BOOM—!!!”

A cataclysmic roar tore through the desert, accompanied by a tremor so violent it felt as if the world were being ripped apart. The ground bucked and heaved, sending plumes of yellow sand erupting into the sky. The surrounding cliffs fractured and shattered, massive boulders tumbling down with a deafening, grinding screech.

From the point of impact, a sphere of golden flame bloomed outwards with impossible speed, instantly engulfing the entire camp.

Tents, vehicles, weapons, human bodies… everything caught within the fiery wave was disintegrated into its most elementary particles. Not even ash remained. The wave of divine fire washed over the canyon walls, melting the solid rock into a molten, glassy slurry that cooled just as quickly, leaving behind smooth, mirror-like curves that shimmered under the moonlight.

The entire process, from impact to annihilation, lasted less than a single second.

When the flames finally dissipated, the camp was simply gone.

Mavuika stood perfectly still in the center of the newly formed crater. The golden light that wreathed her body slowly receded, revealing her casual attire, untouched by the inferno she had unleashed. Everything within a fifty-meter radius had been scoured from existence. The only thing left was the sand, which had been fused into a strange, glazed wasteland that gleamed with an eerie luster.

Her gaze shifted, settling on a dark opening in the rock wall—the entrance to the cave. She could feel him. Tony was inside.

Deep within the dungeon, Tony and Ho Yinsen were huddled in the cramped space beneath a workbench.

The sudden, violent tremor had shaken the entire cave system, sending dust and small rocks raining down from the cracks in the ceiling. Yinsen had instinctively dragged Tony under the table, and the two men curled into tight balls, bracing themselves for whatever disaster was unfolding.

“An earthquake?” Yinsen’s voice trembled.

Tony’s brow was furrowed in concentration. “Doesn’t feel like one…” he muttered, his voice low. “The epicenter is too focused. It’s more like… the vibration from a massive object slamming into the ground.”

Before he could finish his thought, a horrifying, teeth-grating shriek of twisting metal echoed from the dungeon’s entrance. The five-centimeter-thick iron door was being torn from its hinges from the outside, ripped away by some unimaginable force as if it were a sheet of paper.

Molten steel dripped onto the ground with a sharp hiss, and the acrid stench of vaporized metal filled the suffocating air. The heavy door was peeled apart with contemptuous ease, its fragments sent flying to clang and clatter against the stone floor.

Stunned by the sudden violence, Tony and Yinsen froze, their eyes wide as they stared towards the ruined entrance.

Before they could process what had happened, a familiar, gentle voice drifted from the doorway, echoing clearly through the cavern.

“Tony? Are you alright? Sorry, I’m a little late.”

The voice was like a symphony to his ears. A shudder ran through Tony’s body, and the shock on his face was instantly replaced by an expression of wild, unadulterated joy and relief. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the protests of his bruised body, and pulled Yinsen out from under the table with him.

His eyes locked onto the figure standing at the threshold.

In the dim, flickering light, a slender, upright silhouette stood framed by the mangled doorway. Her long, golden-red hair seemed to capture and amplify the weak light, and her entire being radiated a familiar, comforting warmth. It was Mavuika.

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” Tony said, trying to make his voice sound as casual as it did during their usual banter. He failed, but the relief was unmistakable. “But damn, it’s good to see you, Mavuika.”

Mavuika walked forward, her eyes scanning him carefully under the unsteady glow of a nearby kerosene lamp. She had known Tony for nearly a dozen years and had seen him in every conceivable state: preening in a designer suit at a press conference, focused and grease-stained in his workshop overalls, a hungover mess sprawled on the sofa like a discarded puppet.

But she had never seen him like this.

His expensive suit was reduced to tattered rags, smeared with oil, grime, and dried blood. His face was a canvas of bruises, new and old, with a nasty cut at the corner of his mouth that had scabbed over only to crack open again. His hair was a dirty, matted mess, his eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, and his cheekbones jutted out sharply. He had lost a staggering amount of weight.

The most jarring sight, however, was his chest. A strange device was embedded there, glowing with a cold, metallic light in the gloom. Even in the poor visibility, she could see the inflamed, festering skin that ringed the implant.

Mavuika’s brow furrowed, her calm expression tightening with a flicker of concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her tone laced with a gravity that belied her gentle words.

Tony glanced down at his chest and, impossibly, managed a smile. It was that signature Tony Stark smirk, a perfect blend of arrogance and self-deprecation.

“Oh, this thing?” He tapped a finger against the circular device, which pulsed with a faint blue light. “New look. Pretty cool, right?”

He was putting on a brave face, but Mavuika could see the fine beads of cold sweat on his forehead and hear the suppressed rasp of pain in every breath he took.

“Don’t worry,” Tony added, as if he were the one offering comfort. “It’s not fatal.”

Mavuika watched him, this brilliant, stubborn man pretending to be unbreakable, and she let out a soft, internal sigh. Having lived on Earth for so long, she was well aware of the limits of human medicine. The shrapnel lodged deep in his chest, perilously close to his heart, was a death sentence. While this makeshift arc reactor was keeping him alive and holding the metal fragments at bay, there was no procedure in modern medicine that could safely remove them, let alone heal the damage already done.

‘If he wants to be completely cured,’ Mavuika thought, her voice a near-inaudible murmur, “I’m afraid he’ll have to die once.”

Tony caught the words, and seeing her grave expression, he assumed it was some kind of morbid joke. He let out a short, pained laugh.

“Die once? Yeah, let’s put a pin in that. I haven’t lived enough yet. Stark Industries still needs me, you know. Can’t just check out.”

Mavuika simply watched his smiling face, offering no further explanation.

She knew. She knew with absolute certainty that the Resurrection Poem was on the verge of taking its final form. Once it was complete, once its laws were woven into the fabric of this reality, she could truly let him die.

And then, she would bring him back.

She would use the very power of resurrection to purge the shrapnel from his body, to mend his ravaged heart, and to restore him to the peak of his health. It was the only way.