Chapter Forty-Five: The Awakening of the Calamity Legion

Who am I…?

I am… Natasha Romanoff.

From this day forward, I am both Natasha and Zarzaila.

Countless fresh souls await to feast upon the banquet of the Scourge; my task is to awaken the dormant fears within them…

In essence, Zarzaila, the Broodmother of the crypt, had already become Natasha. At this moment, she spread her arms wide, feeling the immense energy transmitted from Roald’s end—the aura of death intoxicating her senses.

Roald had obtained the Space Gem, drawing forth its vast power. Coupled with his unique traits, it granted his undead champions an overwhelming boost.

It was a force unique to the Scourge: terrifying, mighty, impossible to conceal, a power of death that struck straight to the core of the soul.

“Do you see it, Lich King? This is my loyalty!”

A violet radiance gradually enveloped Zarzaila; as her eyes blazed with purple light, the energy within her reached its peak. The sigil of the spider appeared upon her, marking her as one of the Scourge.

“Do you see it…” Zarzaila floated above the ground, arms outstretched, as violet energy surged from her palms, spreading outward. Beneath Manhattan, myriad ghostly blue lights flickered to life.

Bathed in this violet, magical torrent, Zarzaila had fully assumed Natasha’s form. Without soul-specific detection, none would realize that the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had been utterly replaced.

After calling Nick Fury and reporting her “discovery” of vital intelligence, she had changed into a new outfit and now stood on a busy New York street, right at the intersection of Broadway.

Zarzaila deliberately checked the time.

5:30 PM, New York time.

It was rush hour, and Broadway was a river of people. Her arrival went entirely unnoticed.

The next moment, at Zarzaila’s mental command, something stirred beneath Broadway.

Crackling and gnawing sounds of earth and stone echoed from underground, causing pedestrians to halt in confusion.

Drivers waiting at the light poked their heads out, trying to locate the source of the noise.

Soon, instinctively, people looked up toward where the sound seemed to come from.

And there, in their field of vision, Zarzaila was slowly rising into the air with her arms spread wide.

But in New York, such events were hardly rare. The passersby barely reacted, many too jaded to care about danger until it was upon them. Some pointed at the floating figure, others pulled out their phones to snap pictures and post them online.

“What a delicious scent of life!” Zarzaila inhaled deeply, intoxicated. “Disaster is the ultimate test of a soul’s worth. Only in chaos do the most beautiful flowers bloom, and only by drawing enough nourishment…”

“The Lich King will make the Scourge great once more!”

With a mere thought…

The intersection of Broadway collapsed with a thunderous roar.

Gaping chasms tore open the street.

The next instant…

The shrill screech of spiders echoed along the avenue.

At Kamar-Taj, Strange’s eyes snapped open. He had just sensed a fleeting trace of mana from another dimension.

Meanwhile, Nick Fury sat in his office, phone in hand, reviewing the intel sent by Zarzaila disguised as Natasha.

On the screen, a swarm of ghostly blue eyes—a vast horde of spiders—sent chills down the spines of everyone present.

“What in the world is that?” Hill asked anxiously, unable to imagine what would happen if such a multitude of monsters emerged onto the surface.

“Cap, what’s your take?” Fury turned to Rogers.

Captain America stared at the footage, lost in thought, wondering at the size of catacombs required to house so many spiders, how Natasha could possibly have escaped, how credible this intel was, and whether she or Barton was the true Hydra agent.

“Director, whatever the case, we need to use the scanners to pinpoint their lair. With that many, the space required can’t be small!”

Hill immediately pulled up a map of New York and began working on her computer.

But in the next moment, a powerful flash shot past them, and at the same time, Vekarn, riding a bone steed, burst in like a bolt of blue lightning, thundering into the office. Dirt and debris rained down as he reined his mount to a rear, his heavy, black-bladed sword pointed at Rogers.

“It’s five o’clock—time to hunt some monsters.”

Hill’s hands trembled over the keyboard.

Fury arched a brow.

“Sir Knight! What is the meaning of this?” Fury asked, his hand inching toward his sidearm.

“Hey, buddy, get your hand off that dark little toy of yours, or I can’t guarantee my sword won’t end up on that bald, shiny head of yours!” Vekarn’s tone was mocking, careless.

Fury’s hand paused, but he restrained himself, showing the remarkable restraint of a seasoned agent.

Endure.

“So, Sir Knight, as black and tough as you are, what brings you bursting in here—hoping for a friendly chat?” Fury demanded loudly, trying to regain the upper hand.

Captain Rogers raised his shield, readying himself as well.

“My apologies for interrupting your little three-person rendezvous. But you need to see this.” Vekarn tossed footage of the spiders on Broadway onto Fury’s desk.

“What is this?”

Rogers’ expression changed at the images on the screen.

“A little gift from the Scourge to New York.”

Fury’s phone rang again.

At Military Base 13.

This was where the “protection” of the Hulk took place—a facility encased in thick reinforced concrete walls, its doors massive slabs of metal, even sturdier than the original design.

Simple, effective, primitive concrete and steel—keeping the threat of the Hulk contained in a tight, little space.

At the deepest part of the room, a massive green giant was bound tight.

The Hulk remained in a constant state of rage—muscles bulging, fury simmering—his long confinement making him increasingly volatile.

The heavy restraints creaked under his immense strength, the sound grating on the nerves.

Soon, the spectral image of Erika phased through the wall.

From afar, Grommash ignored her entirely.

Erika placed her hands on either side of Hulk’s temples. Suddenly, the previously dormant Hulk began to struggle, his body trembling, joints cracking and stretching, vertebrae jutting out as bone spikes erupted along his back.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

A red light blazed within them.

He was now an Abomination of the Scourge.