[FOR EVERY 100 POWERSTONES = 1 EXTRA CHAPTER]
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For three months, the world held its breath. It was not a war fought with armies and declarations, but a silent, surgical purge. A ghost moved through the shadows of global power, and where he passed, the corrupt and the wicked simply… ceased to be.
John Pendragon, the man who had been erased to make way for the Black Dragon, became a specter of vengeance. He did not travel by conventional means. He was a whisper on the wind, a flaw in the security camera's feed, a name that appeared on a private jet's manifest and then vanished upon landing. He used the vast, terrifying intelligence network of the World Security Council not as a tool, but as an extension of his own will.
In a penthouse in Macau, a crime lord known as "The Silk King," who trafficked in human lives, was found in his panic room, a room designed to withstand a siege. The door was intact, the locks untouched. He was simply dead, a single, precise mark on his neck. A black origami dragon lay on his chest.
In a private villa in the Caribbean, a politician who had sold his nation's resources for personal gain, surrounded by a small army of mercenaries, went to bed and never woke up. His security detail reported no breaches, no sounds of struggle. On his nightstand was a single sheet of paper listing his crimes, signed with a stylized dragon.
In Moscow, a brutal oligarch known for crushing his competitors literally, was found in his armored limousine, the vehicle still moving in traffic. His driver noticed the silence from the back seat only when they arrived at their destination.
The methods were varied, impossibly creative, and always left the same calling card: a list of the target's sins and the black dragon seal. It was a message, a judgment delivered from a court that recognized no borders, no immunity, no power but its own.
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In New Delhi, the phone in Shiva's secure office rang. It was a direct line from the Prime Minister. The call was immediately followed by one from the President. Their voices, usually dripping with condescending authority, were shrill with panic.
"Shiva! What in God's name is happening?" the Prime Minister demanded. "Three of our major donors in the party have vanished! Their security was the best money could buy! And this… this 'Black Dragon' nonsense is all over the intelligence channels! Explain yourself!"
Shiva, who had been staring at a world map slowly being cleansed of red dots, remained silent. The weight of the past three months, the sheer scale of the reckoning, had hollowed him out.
"Are you listening to me, Shiva?" the PM's voice escalated into a sneer. "Or has that fancy World Council title made you forget who signs your paycheck? You are an incompetent fool if you cannot control one man!"
The word "fool" was the trigger. The dam of Shiva's fear and self-loathing broke, flooding out in a torrent of furious truth.
"YOU WILL SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Shiva roared, his voice cracking with a mixture of fury and sheer, undiluted fear.
The sudden outburst stunned the two most powerful men in India into silence.
"Do you have any idea what kind of monster you released?" Shiva hissed, leaning into the camera, his eyes wide and frantic.
He was on his feet now, pacing like a caged animal. "Do you know Aditya Sharma? That little psychopath you protect because his father lines your pockets? That 'fucker' didn't just kill a woman. He killed the wife of the one man the entire global intelligence community fears more than a nuclear warhead! And then, in his infinite, spoiled stupidity, he stood in front of that monster and provoked him! He spat on the grave of the Black Dragon's family!"
The Prime Minister waved a dismissive hand. "This is about that Black dragon nuisance? We have the entire CBI and NSG on it—"
"YOU SHOULD BE!" Shiva screamed, his fist smashing down on his solid ivory desk, the impact jarring the phone. A hairline crack appeared in the ancient ivory. "You two fat, greedy bastards! You sit in your gilded cages and you think you are gods! You killed the previous administration to get here! We knew! The World Council knew! We left you in place because you provided a veneer of stability for the public! But you… you have woken up the one thing we were all praying would stay asleep!"
He was breathing in ragged gasps, his face drenched in a cold sweat of pure terror. "Do you have any idea who he is? The title 'Black Dragon' wasn't a gift! It was earned in blood and fire! He joined the army at 18. He went from a RAWrecruit to a Top level Agent in two years, completing seventeen hell-level operations that would make your special forces wet themselves. That was his warm-up!"
Shiva leaned into the phone, his voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "At twenty, the World Security Council recruited him. He was their youngest, most effective agent. Flawless record. Two years ago, he uncovered a massive intelligence leak—a corruption that reached the highest levels of the Council itself. And do you know what he did? In a single day, Shiva said in Whisper's… ten thousand people. Ten thousand corrupt officials, agents, and informants across the globe, gone. deleted from the World. He is not a man. He is a killing machine we built. The peak of human potential. A master of every martial art, every weapon, every form of disguise and intelligence gathering."
He saved the most terrifying fact for last. "His brain… his IQ is measured at 1500. It's not even quantifiable by normal standards. He is the most intelligent being to ever walk the earth. You are not confronting a man. You are confronting a Reaper wearing human skin. And he is coming for you."
As if on cue, the security alarms in the Prime Minister's residence blared to life. A frantic aide rushed in, whispering in the PM's ear. The Prime Minister, his face turning a sickly grey, fumbled for his personal tablet. What he saw made the blood drain from his face completely.
It was a global broadcast, hijacking every major news network, streaming service, and social media platform. A list, a seemingly endless scroll of names, photographs, and meticulously documented crimes. Crime lords, politicians, presidents, councilors—their darkest secrets laid bare for the world to see. And at the very top, were the names and crimes of the Indian President and Prime Minister. Bribery, embezzlement, conspiracy to murder their predecessors. It was all there.
Then, the screen changed. John Pendragon appeared. He was sitting in a simple chair, dressed in a plain White T-shirt and Black Cargo pant's. He looked calm. Resigned. There was no anger in his eyes, only a profound, infinite sadness.
"Hello. Public citizens of the world. My name is John Pendragon." His voice was quiet, resonant, and utterly compelling. "I am an Indian young man who loved justice and followed it profoundly. But because I followed that justice indifferently, I lost everything I had."
His voice was quiet, but it held the weight of empires.
"Before I depart, I give all of you a chance. I give you every evidence of the corrupted politicians' and crime lords' crimes. I have eliminated eighty percent of the people on this list. The ones at the very top... I leave to you."
He looked directly into the camera, his gaze piercing a billion screens. "They think they own the world because they have money and political power. They believe they can do whatever they want. Show them they are wrong. Show them that when every common man, woman, elder, and child in the world is united, the most powerful people can be brought to justice. This is the last and final thing I give this world. Please... use it wisely."
The screen went black.
The scene shifted. The dream-memory fractured. The cave where Indra Uchiha slept was flooded with the first light of dawn. His eyes, the Blue orbs of a Six Eye's, fluttered open. The ghost of John Pendragon, the weight of a billion lives, the taste of vengeance and sacrifice, receded like a tide, leaving behind the profound echo of a righteous life lived in darkness.
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in the Cosmos one planet named blue star
After John Pendragon video Ended
Back in the modern world, chaos reigned. The leaked information was a digital wildfire that no government could extinguish. John's anti-hacking software was a fortress that repelled every assault.
The people rose. It wasn't an organized revolution; it was a global, spontaneous catharsis. In cities and villages, people who had been victims, or whose families had been victims, saw the names of their tormentors. They saw the proof.
Soldiers and police officers, men and women who had sworn oaths to the state, found their loyalty tested against a higher justice. Many turned. They arrested the powerful, but the mobs often took them first.
The punishments were brutal, born of centuries of pent-up fury. Corrupt officials were dragged from their mansions and beaten in the streets. Crime lords were lynched by the families of those they had murdered.
Aditya Sharma was found hiding in a luxury bunker. He did not get a quick death. For fifteen years, he was kept as a living testament to the price of evil. He lost his limbs, his dignity. He was fed once a week, given filthy water, and displayed as a broken monster. He begged for death daily, but it was a freedom denied. His and many Crime Lord's and Politician's existence became a warning, a scar on the world's conscience.
Death was a mercy these men had never granted their victims, and so it was a mercy they were denied.
The Time fast-forwarded. The world healed. The great purge, though violent, gave birth to an era of unprecedented transparency and accountability. The statue of John Pendragon was not erected by a government, but funded by global public donation. It stood in the center of the World Security Council's new collegiate campus, a place dedicated to training a new generation of guardians.
It was a magnificent statue, capturing not the killer, but the man—the profound sadness and unyielding resolve in his eyes. At its base, the inscription read:
John Pendragon
Born: October 5, 2000
Died: January 1, 2026
A man who always upheld the light within the darkness.
Inside a lecture hall of the W.S.C. College, a professor addressed a class of bright-eyed students. The topic was the Pendragon Event in History.
Professor lectured the student's.
But Unfortunately John Pendragon did not see this.
The next morning, on the serene shores of the Kaveri River in Tamil Nadu, local police found a body. It was John Pendragon. He was dressed in simple clothes. An empty bottle of cheap liquor lay nearby. The official report would state he had drunk himself into a stupor and drowned. A tragic, quiet end for a man whose name had just set the world on fire.
"Yes," the professor look at student's and said, "John Pendragon gave this world its freedom, and in doing so, freed himself. Even after 3,000 years, no one has matched his recorded IQ or his martial prowess. Why do you think that is?"
A studious young woman stood. "Because he was John Pendragon."
The professor smiled gently. "That's true, but it's not the only reason. He possessed something rarer than intelligence: profound righteousness. Many with great intellect look down upon others. John never did. He treated everyone with fairness. He could have used his geniuses to build a business empire or rule a nation. No one could have stopped him. But he risked everything, gave everything, to uphold the justice in his heart."
The professor gestured towards the large window, through which the towering statue of John was visible, silhouetted against a clean, blue sky.
"He became a symbol of humanity".
The professor's gaze grew solemn. "He was no saint. His hands were stained with more blood than any crime lord. But it was the blood of the corrupt, the leeches who fed on innocent lives. He saw humanity not as a resource to be exploited, but as a light to be protected. He killed the darkness so the light could shine."
The students looked out at the magnificent statue, its face resolute, its hand Folded like Soldier Who bring back peace.
The professor's final words echoed in the hall. "He was a man who always upheld the light within the darkness."
As the scene zoomed out, the inscription on the statue's base became clear:
John Pendragon
Born: Oct 5, 2000
Died: Jan 1, 2026
A Man Who Always Upheld the Light Within the Darkness.
The world he left behind, though not perfect, was one he had surgically cleansed, a legacy forged in the fires of his own unimaginable pain, a testament to the price of true justice.
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[I have decided to start a brand new fanfiction. To involve you all in this fresh start, I will present three story options in a follow-up post. Please comment on which one you prefer.]
[Marvel X Harry potter crossover fanfic]
[I can summon heroes and villain's from Anime's and Movies]
[In marvel I create an Powerful Hero Organization With Mod game]
[THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT PLEASE SUPPORT MY FANFIC WITH YOUR POWER STONE'S AND REVIEW'S]