King's Coming in Marvel

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Tornado was startled but quickly realized that his wind powers could not extinguish the flames. Thinking fast, he used his strength to blow the flames away. Breathing a sigh of relief, he prepared to counterattack—only for a massive fist to appear suddenly in front of him.

"Ah...!"

With a scream, Tornado was sent flying!

"Come back here!"

Michael sneered as his massive fist stretched out, transforming into a rope that chased after Tornado.

Tornado felt dazed, his head spinning as his whirlwind dissipated, leaving him plummeting toward the ground.

Suddenly, a dark green rope wrapped tightly around Tornado's body and yanked him back toward Michael.

The tugging and pulling snapped Tornado out of his daze. His lower body transformed into a whirlwind again in an attempt to break free, but the rope—crafted from the energy of the Ether Lamp Ring—was far too strong.

The immense force dragged Tornado closer to Michael.

He could clearly see himself hurtling toward a fiery, clenched fist.

"No... wait, listen to me first—!" Tornado yelled desperately, trying to halt Michael's advance.

Michael's cold smile deepened, and he slammed his flaming fist into Tornado's face.

Boom!

The punch landed with such force that Tornado's face visibly caved in, sending him soaring through the air. A red arc of blood traced his path like a grisly rainbow.

With his left hand, Michael controlled the rope, pulling Tornado back toward him. Another leisurely punch followed.

Boom!

Bang!

Tornado became a pitiful punching bag, battered and tossed repeatedly. He initially struggled and resisted, but after a few devastating blows, he gave up entirely.

If the phrase "a face full of peach blossoms" described a beaten appearance, Tornado now embodied it completely.

Michael pulled him back once more. The rope morphed into a massive hand that held Tornado in place, suspending him before Michael.

Looking at the utterly defeated Tornado, Michael said slowly, "Didn't you have something to say earlier? Go ahead—speak."

'What's the point now?' Tornado thought bitterly. The fight was over—was there any use in talking?

When Tornado didn't respond, Michael continued coldly, "Nothing to say? Then you'll never say anything again."

The energy of the Ether Lamp Ring condensed into a sharp, crimson-tipped spear. The tip hovered ominously, just inches from Tornado's forehead, radiating a deadly intent.

"Wait, wait! I have something to say!" Tornado blurted in panic.

Michael paused, raising an eyebrow.

"Magneto sent me here!" Tornado shouted, his voice trembling with fear.

The spear halted. Tornado felt the energy swirling violently near his forehead, and he swallowed nervously.

"Magneto, huh?" Michael murmured, his expression darkening as his eyes turned pitch-black.

The transformation startled Tornado, and he found himself disoriented, as if falling into a trance.

"Are you with the Brotherhood of Mutants? Why did Magneto send you?"

"Yes, I just joined the Brotherhood." Tornado admitted, "Magneto said you killed John and sent me to kill you. If I succeeded, I'd become a core member of the Brotherhood. If I failed, he wanted me to deliver a message: Magneto wants to see you."

"What a cunning old man." Michael said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

It was clear to Michael that Tornado was merely cannon fodder. Magneto likely had no idea of Michael's true strength, but he'd still sent Tornado to test him. If Tornado succeeded, Magneto would gain both revenge and loyalty from his followers. If Tornado failed, the message could serve as an olive branch to recruit Michael.

But why mention John?

Michael recalled that John's powers had been devoured and he'd been injured—but not killed. Could Magneto have eliminated him afterward? The more Michael thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Magneto wasn't the type to keep powerless subordinates around. Killing John and pinning the blame on Michael would solidify Magneto's authority.

As these thoughts churned in his mind, Michael's eyes narrowed, and he tried to use his precognitive abilities to glimpse the future. Unfortunately, nothing came through.

"What's happening to me? What did you do?" Tornado's panicked voice snapped Michael out of his thoughts.

"Mutants are resilient, I'll give you that." Michael said to himself, then smiled faintly, "Thank you!"

"Thank you?" Tornado echoed, baffled, "Why... why are you thanking me?"

"Because of your powers." Michael said with a smirk, "I was wondering how to develop my abilities further, and you've brought me a gift. I'll gladly take your powers—after all, the dead don't need them, right?"

"What are you talking about? No—don't!" Tornado screamed as Michael's hands gripped him tightly, beginning to drain his powers.

Tornado struggled violently, but his efforts were futile. Slowly, he grew weaker and quieter until he finally went still.

The energy of the Ether Lamp Ring vanished, and Tornado's lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Michael waved his hand, summoning flames to engulf Tornado's corpse. With a loud bang, the flames consumed him entirely, reducing him to ashes.

Michael watched as the last embers faded.

"Wind manipulation... Not bad. With this, I can combine wind and fire to create even greater destruction."

Closing his eyes, Michael began to sense his newly acquired ability. It exceeded his expectations in both precision and power.

He chuckled to himself, imagining Tornado's ridiculous fighting style, "Relying on whirlwind legs to stay airborne? Effective, but the aesthetic was awful."

Michael turned away, flames still flickering faintly in his hand.