Crimson Code: Marvel's Vampire

Ethan spent the day lying low, the crystal hidden away in his makeshift lair. His body still hummed with the energy of his battle with Blade, but it was the crystal that truly occupied his thoughts. It sat on the corner of his desk, its crimson glow pulsating with a rhythm almost like a heartbeat.

He tried everything—touching it, meditating with it, even pricking his finger to let a drop of blood land on its surface. Nothing seemed to work. The crystal remained enigmatic, its power just out of reach.

As the day waned, fatigue finally pulled at him. His need for sleep was rare, but when it came, it was an abyss. He lay down, the crystal still within sight, and drifted into a deep slumber.

Ethan found himself standing in a barren wasteland. The sky was a bruise of red and black, with jagged rocks and ash swirling around his feet. He recognized the sensation—this wasn't just a dream. It was something more, a place where reality and nightmare intertwined.

The ground trembled, and from the shadows emerged a towering figure. Cyttorak. His form was a monstrous amalgamation of muscle and arcane energy. His skin was a molten red, veined with molten gold, and his eyes burned with an insatiable hunger. Each step he took left molten cracks in the ground, the air warping with his presence. Cyttorak, a near-omnipotent being within his own realm, wielded the power to reshape reality, command mystical energies, and create avatars of his will—like the Juggernaut—showcasing his terrifying scale of influence.

"Thief," Cyttorak's voice crashed against Ethan's senses, the sound vibrating through his bones. "You dare to claim my artifact?"

Ethan's instincts screamed at him to run, but his body remained rooted. "Hey, if you didn't want it stolen, maybe don't leave it lying around." His voice wavered, but he forced a smile. "You know, standard villain mistake."

Cyttorak's laughter was a rumble that fractured the ground. "Foolish mortal. Your soul is forfeit."

Chains of crimson energy erupted from the ground, wrapping around Ethan's limbs. He felt his strength draining, his vision dimming as Cyttorak drew closer, each step a seismic event. His fingers clawed at the ethereal chains, but they burned his skin, leaving smoldering marks. Shadows seemed to close in, the world narrowing to the warlord's merciless gaze.

But then, the world seemed to shiver.

A new presence unfolded within the dream. Shadows darker than void itself bled into existence, and from them stepped a figure. He wore a cloak that seemed woven from the night sky, studded with faint, dying stars. His skin was a pale alabaster, sharp features etched with a cold, regal disdain. His hair was silver, flowing like quicksilver, and his eyes—a deep crimson—glowed with an unsettling calm. His very presence seemed to draw the light out of the air, creating a pocket of absolute stillness around him.

Cyttorak recoiled. Even in his own realm, where his power was absolute, he hesitated. "You… What are you doing here?"

The newcomer's voice was a whisper that seemed to slip under reality, unraveling it thread by thread. "This one is not yours to claim."

Ethan felt the chains around him shatter. He collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, his vision sharpening as the stranger stood between him and Cyttorak.

Cyttorak's molten eyes narrowed, rage twisting into something more primal—fear. "This is my domain! You hold no power here!"

The stranger raised his hand, and shadows curled around his fingers like living serpents. "Your domain is but a candle in the dark. Do not test me."

The crimson chains reformed, striking out at the stranger like vipers. Reality itself seemed to crack under the strain as Cyttorak unleashed his wrath. Rivers of molten energy surged forward, a tide of destruction. But the stranger merely raised a hand. The shadows expanded, swallowing the crimson light, erasing it as though it had never existed.

With a roar, Cyttorak lunged forward, his form expanding, muscles and magic intertwining. The stranger did not move. Instead, the shadows beneath him rose, forming a wall of impenetrable black. When Cyttorak's fist connected, it was as if he struck the void itself. His arm dissolved into mist, and with a howl of pain, he staggered back.

The stranger took a step forward. "Leave. Now."

Cyttorak hesitated, his form flickering. The entire dreamscape seemed to tremble, the boundaries of his domain fraying. With a final glare at Ethan, he dissipated into smoke, leaving only the whisper of his hatred behind.

Ethan struggled to his feet. "Who… who are you?"

The stranger turned, crimson eyes meeting his. "Awaken."

Reality snapped back into focus. Ethan bolted upright in his bed, his skin slick with cold sweat. The crystal sat where he had left it, but now it pulsed with a different light—a sign that its power was becoming his. More than half of its original size had shrunk away, its once imposing form now a smaller, concentrated shard of power.

He rubbed his eyes, the memory of the dream still vivid. He had just arrived in the Marvel universe and had already come face-to-face with a fate worse than death. Whoever that figure was, he had just saved him—and terrified a god in the process.

Ethan's lips curled into a smile. "Well, things just got a whole lot more interesting."