Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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*****

"Johnny!"

"Johnny! Johnny!"

The roar of the crowd inside the stadium rose in unison, threatening to blow the roof off.

The atmosphere was electric, the energy infectious—it was as if a raging fire had ignited the entire audience.

Everyone screamed with excitement, eagerly awaiting their superstar: "Hotshot Johnny."

To the locals, Johnny Blaze wasn't just a daredevil—he was a legend.

Again and again, he pushed the limits. Again and again, he brushed with death. That fearless drive to leap headfirst into danger was what truly won them over.

Mike glanced at Gwen, who was standing on her seat, waving her little flag with shining eyes. He could only shake his head in helpless resignation.

Raven, noticing his expression, chuckled with amusement—until she caught the guarded look in his eyes. She blinked, puzzled.

Guarded?

Was something going to happen?

She leaned closer to Mike and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mike replied, scanning the crowd. Only after confirming that he didn't spot that eerie grinning face did he finally relax. He nodded toward Raven. "We're fine."

Raven gave him a skeptical look and murmured, "You're acting weird."

Then her expression turned sharp. "Wait, don't tell me... you saw one of your old flings?"

"What old fling?" Mike squinted at her. "You should know exactly what kind of person I used to be."

Raven paused for a second and summarized, "A total scumbag who'd pull his pants up and walk away without looking back."

Mike coughed awkwardly. "That was years ago. Don't bring that up again."

Ever since becoming a dad—especially after adopting Gwen—he'd practically turned over a new leaf.

Raven gave a soft "hmph," hooked a finger under Mike's chin, and smirked. "I moved in, remember? If you so much as—mmm…"

Her words were cut off as Mike pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Pfft!"

Gwen peeked at the two of them and giggled, grinning from ear to ear.

Just then, the announcer burst onto the field, launching into an enthusiastic introduction. After presenting Johnny Blaze and announcing that 40% of the night's earnings would go to charity, he shouted, "Let's give it up for… Hotshot Johnny!"

"Oh man, this crazy guy's really going for it—he's going to leap across the whole stadium!"

"That's right, you heard me! The entire stadium!"

"And that's not all—this insane stuntman plans to jump over fifty cars and… get this… six Black Hawk helicopters!"

The moment those words were spoken, the stadium fell momentarily silent—then erupted into thunderous cheers.

"Oh Johnny!"

"Dear God!"

"This guy's nuts!"

But regardless of what they shouted, once the helicopters began descending through the stadium's retractable roof and landed neatly on the field, the crowd lost their minds cheering for him.

"Johnny! Johnny!"

At that moment, the crowd was fully lit up—set ablaze by this madman. He was the undisputed star of the night.

A figure on a motorcycle appeared on a raised ramp at the far end of the field.

Clad in a white racing suit adorned with flame decals and wearing a helmet that looked like it was burning, Johnny simply stood still—and even that was enough to reignite the crowd's frenzy.

Mike stared at the figure, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. Frowning, he activated his super vision. As his gaze pierced through the helmet to the face underneath, he froze slightly.

It's him?

A bizarre image flashed through Mike's mind—someone doing a creepy dance with an eerily sinister smile.

Mike's expression darkened. He gave his head a shake, forcing the image out of his mind.

Wrong guy.

If memory served, the real Johnny Blaze was no ordinary man—he was the fire-headed skeleton known as Ghost Rider.

At that moment, with a deafening engine roar, Johnny Blaze suddenly rocketed forward down the ramp with no warning.

Mike's eyes locked onto the track.

In that split second, every spectator instinctively held their breath, as if the sound of their exhale might somehow affect the stunt. Only the thunderous pounding of their hearts remained, threatening to burst through their chests and flush their cheeks.

VROOOM!

The motorcycle soared off the ramp, launching high into the air as Johnny Blaze aimed straight for the opposite platform.

His silhouette cut through the sky.

The whirling helicopter blades spun beneath him like death's spinning scythes—one slip and he'd be minced in midair.

The stadium was dead silent.

Every pair of eyes followed his flight, unable to look away.

In that instant, Johnny Blaze became the sole focus of thousands—and in that very moment, he closed his eyes and let himself be carried by the wind, lost in memory.

He recalled scenes that had been burned into his soul:

To save his cancer-stricken father, he had signed a deal with a mysterious old man—trading away his soul in the process.

But in the end, his father still died. And Johnny… was cursed.

Lately, Johnny had been experiencing something strange—visions of a burning figure flashing through his mind without warning, leaving him with a haunting sense that something was slowly devouring him from the inside.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. As the high platform loomed closer and closer, the corners of his lips curled into a faint smile.

The motorcycle tires grazed just past the spinning helicopter rotors. Landing precisely on the opposite platform, the bike skidded in a clean tailspin, and Johnny removed his helmet, revealing a face flushed with equal excitement.

In an instant, the stadium erupted. The momentary silence was shattered by a tidal wave of cheers that roared like an avalanche.

Gwen shouted with uncontainable joy, her flushed cheeks beaming with excitement. Mike applauded calmly, though his expression remained composed.

"Let's go," Mike said, rising to his feet. He took Gwen's hand and reached out with his other toward Raven.

Johnny Blaze… If he really had made a deal with that despicable entity, then there was a good chance that foul old bastard was lurking nearby—watching.

Gwen nodded, animatedly describing every thrilling moment of the stunt as they walked.

Raven, observing the father and daughter's enthusiasm, chuckled quietly to herself.

Once outside the stadium, Mike exhaled a breath of relief.

Nothing happened—good.

If Coulson, that jinx of a man, had been around, there probably would have been some kind of incident.

Ha!

In a good mood now, Mike smiled at Gwen. "Come on, let's grab something to eat before heading to the next attraction."

"I want steak! I heard the steak here is amazing!" Gwen exclaimed.

Mike turned to Raven. "How about you?"

Raven glanced at Gwen with a soft smile. "Let's go get steak."

Just as the three of them walked off in search of a cozy steakhouse, a car pulled up outside the stadium.

Coulson, hearing the distant cheers still echoing from within, murmured to himself, "Looks like our Hotshot Johnny's pretty popular."

Sliding on his sunglasses, Coulson stepped out of the vehicle and made his way toward the athlete's lounge. He intended to have a word with the man.

But before he could get far, the roar of a motorcycle engine split the air.

VROOOM!

A rider flew past him on a motorcycle, and the fierce wind instantly tousled the hair he had so carefully "styled."

Frowning, Coulson reached up and smoothed his hair. "That was Johnny Blaze?"

It seemed he'd arrived late—the performance was already over.

In such a rush… Was something wrong?

Coulson silently wondered but soon broke into a faint smile.

So be it. Fate had made the decision for him—he wouldn't force it.

Rubbing his stomach, Coulson turned and walked away.

(End of Chapter)