Mysteries On Marvel

In the next second—

The Seraphim spread her wings and soared into the sky, rising to a height of nearly a hundred meters.

From above, she looked down upon the shattered ruins of Harlem, where countless people lay sprawled on the ground—some covered in blood, some bleeding from their orifices, clutching their heads in agony.

The brutal battle between Abomination and Hulk—

The relentless federal military's firepower—

The grotesque Writhing Swarm disaster—

And finally, the evil god's projection, which had momentarily manifested over New York and inflicted untold mental corruption upon thousands.

All of it.

All of it had turned New York City's night into one tainted by blood and madness.

Gazing upon the suffering masses below, the Seraphim's flawless, perfect face seemed to soften with a touch of compassion.

"God loves all."

Her soft, divine voice echoed across the battlefield, carrying with it an ethereal quality.

Then—

She gently flapped her six pristine white wings.

A radiant light erupted from her body, illuminating the entire night sky.

When the light faded, her form had vanished.

But in her wake—

Countless pure white feathers drifted silently down from the skies over Harlem.

Each feather, as if possessing a will of its own, landed precisely upon the injured.

These wounded—

Some had been caught in the crossfire of tonight's battle.

Some had tripped and fallen while fleeing in panic.

Others had been rushed out of hospitals on stretchers, their bodies bearing wounds from long before tonight's events.

Some had old injuries that had tormented them for years.

But the moment the sacred feathers touched their bodies, a warm sensation filled them.

Their cries of agony quieted.

Their pain dulled.

When they finally came back to their senses and checked their injuries—

They realized.

The wounds they had been suffering from, whether old or new, had begun to heal at different levels.

"Is this… a miracle?"

A young woman, her face previously scarred by shattered glass, caught a glimpse of her fully healed reflection in a car's side mirror.

She began trembling violently in shock and joy.

No one else could truly understand—

The despair she had felt when her once-beautiful face had been ruined.

Had her friend not pulled her away from the battlefield earlier, dragging her to safety—

She might have already lost all will to live.

But now—

She was healed.

And for that, she prayed from the bottom of her heart.

"Thank you, God… thank you, Angel!"

Of course, this miraculous event did not only happen to her.

All across Harlem, tens of thousands of people experienced the same healing light.

Though the feathers did not bring people back from the dead or regrow lost limbs, they greatly alleviated pain and suffering.

Severe injuries became manageable wounds.

Serious illnesses weakened.

Minor wounds vanished completely.

It was an undeniable miracle.

And for the people—

The Seraphim had become a figure straight out of myth.

Throughout Harlem, countless voices rose in prayers of gratitude.

Some devout Christians and Catholics even knelt in the direction where the Seraphim had disappeared, their faces full of reverence and faith.

While the people below were enraptured by the divine miracle—

No one realized.

Something else had also vanished alongside the Seraphim.

The mangled corpse of Abomination.

At that moment—

The Seraphim was already carrying it away, flying at high speed toward Eren's base.

Of course—

Eren wouldn't let her openly carry a corpse through the city like that.

From the moment the brilliant light had filled the sky, the Seraphim had activated a stealth barrier, wrapping both herself and Abomination's remains in a light-based illusion.

To ordinary eyes, she had simply vanished.

Even if she flew directly over their heads, not a single soul would notice.

Meanwhile—

Eren stood in place, watching as the last traces of his Jester clone faded into ashes.

Letting out a silent sigh—

He was interrupted by Tony, who spoke up.

"Need me to book a fancy grave for him?" Tony asked, his tone half-serious, half-joking. "You know, Stark Industries has a pretty broad business portfolio—I happen to know a guy in the burial business."

He then glanced at the pile of ashes left behind by Jester Eren, shaking his head.

"Someone like him deserves a proper hero's burial. Not… this."

Truth be told—

Tony didn't actually know anyone in the funeral industry.

But in the few minutes since Eren's clone had died, he had purchased an entire cemetery business just so he could personally ensure Jester Eren got the best burial possible.

Eren's expression turned strange at that.

Was Tony seriously going to hold a funeral for his clone?

His Jester persona wasn't even truly dead—just temporarily inactive.

Eren couldn't help but wonder—

What would Tony's face look like the next time Jester Eren appeared before him?

Still, rather than refuse, Eren simply nodded and said:

"Thanks."

Since his Jester clone had died publicly, it was best to keep it that way for now.

Earlier today, his clone had wiped out a Hydra base and slaughtered a number of their agents.

Right now, Hydra likely considered him their top enemy.

No doubt, they were already scheming various plans to eliminate him.

But with the Jester now dead in the public eye—

It would throw Hydra off balance.

When his clone revived, he could move in the shadows, catching them off guard.

It was a strategic advantage.

Seeing that Eren had accepted, Tony grinned.

"Leave it to me, then. I'll take care of everything."

Just as he spoke—

A burst of sparks erupted from the Mark IV armor, specifically from its right leg.

"Ah, shit!"

Tony flinched from the heat, then quickly started dismantling the damaged portion of his suit.

Now that the battle was over, there was no point in wearing a half-destroyed suit.

"Hey, Eren, give me a hand with this crap, will you?"

Eren shrugged. "Fine."

As he stepped forward to help Tony remove the broken armor pieces, Tony suddenly asked:

"Hey, kid—how the hell did you summon that six-winged angel?"

Pausing for a second, Tony continued:

"You know, I've lived a long time, and this is the first time I've actually started to believe angels might be real. If my mom were still alive, she'd probably lose her damn mind—she was a devout Catholic."

Glancing at the kneeling crowds still praying below, Tony chuckled.

"Actually, I think half of New York feels the same way."

Then, with a mischievous smirk, Tony added:

"If the Pope in Vatican City finds out you can summon an angel, I bet they'll rush to bring you in and treat you like royalty."

Eren chuckled. "Not interested."

"Good."

Tony smirked. "I'd hate to see you stuck in a place full of rules and rituals. Being a superhero in New York sounds way cooler."

Then, his eyes gleamed with amusement. "I even thought of a name for you—what do you think of 'Angel Knight'?"

Eren winced.

'What the hell kind of name is that?'

At least for now—he had zero interest in playing superhero.

Eren shook his head at Tony's suggestion.

"No way. That name is awful. And besides, I have no intention of being a superhero."

Tony looked surprised. "Huh? Why not?"

"No real reason." Eren shrugged. "I just don't feel like it right now. I prefer keeping my life in order instead of having it disrupted."

Hearing this, Tony paused for a moment before nodding. "I guess that makes sense."

But then, his expression turned serious.

"Still… you might not have a choice."

Eren raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Tony sighed. "The six-winged angel you summoned… the impact it had was beyond anything I've ever seen."

"Jarvis just did a quick scan of the internet—there are already tens of millions of discussions about it. Your angel is all over the news. And that's just the beginning. Once the full story spreads, the entire world will be talking about it."

Tony then glanced up. "Right now, we probably have a dozen satellites locked onto us. Every journalist in the city must be scrambling to get footage."

Then he smirked. "And don't even get me started on the Vatican. If they find out you can summon an actual angel, they'll probably try to drag you to Rome and treat you like some divine prophet."

Eren's gaze flickered, but his expression remained calm. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Of course. There's no way you'll stay hidden."

The moment Tony finished speaking—

Jarvis's voice came through the Mark IV armor's speakers.

"Sir, I must correct you. Our satellites—along with every camera within a one-mile radius—failed to capture any clear images of Mr. Eren."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Several images and video clips popped up on his helmet's HUD.

In every single one, Eren appeared as nothing more than a blurry, glowing figure. His features were completely indistinct.

Even footage from Stark Industries' own high-definition satellites showed the same results—Eren was reduced to an unrecognizable silhouette of light.

Tony's mouth twitched.

Eren chuckled softly.

A true magician never performs a trick without preparation.

Did Tony really think he'd step onto a battlefield, summoning a six-winged angel, without taking precautions?

Before he even arrived, Eren had already laid the groundwork.

And once he summoned the Seraphim, she had cast an optical distortion field over him, bending light in a way that made it impossible for any cameras—or even ordinary human eyes—to see his true form.

Unless someone was standing within ten meters, they wouldn't be able to recognize his face.

Even Tony, who had been next to him the whole time, had probably only seen a distorted blur instead of his actual features.

Tony stared at the distorted images and let out a long breath. "…Okay. I'll admit it. You're good."

Then, smirking, he added, "Since you've already thought this through, let me help you out. Jarvis, erase all records of Eren's presence in the center of the battle. Keep only the footage of him at the outskirts."

After all, plenty of people had seen Eren's Aston Martin entering Harlem tonight.

Instead of completely erasing him, Tony chose to alter the records—shifting Eren's presence to the edge of the battlefield rather than the center.

This way, no one would suspect anything.

Jarvis: "Understood, sir."

Eren nodded. "Appreciate it."

Tony gave him a thumbs-up. "No problem."

With that settled, Eren helped Tony remove the last damaged pieces of his Mark IV armor.

Finally, with a satisfied sigh, Tony stretched his arms.

"Man, I need a drink. And a long nap."

Eren chuckled. "Try not to crash any more suits."

Tony grinned. "No promises."

As Eren turned to leave, his gaze swept across the ruins of Harlem—

Then toward the distant shadows of another building, where he could sense Natasha Romanoff watching.

His lips curled slightly.

"Let's see what happens next."

Meanwhile…

Far below the ruined streets of Harlem, in the underground parking lot where the Hulk had fled—

A pale, bony hand suddenly reached out from the darkness.

(End of Chapter)

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