Soren hovered above the fractured ground, one foot planted on the alien surfboard, the other lifted as if standing on a gust of fate.
The board vibrated faintly under him, a current of energy tingling up through his spine, responding to his will with the precision of thought.
Beneath his feet, the air cracked from dimensional pressure, like the universe itself recognizing an unfamiliar force taking command.
He glanced once more at the figure below.
The Silver Surfer stood within the remnants of the space cage, shoulders slumped and expression unreadable, though the weight of his past was written in the tremble in his fingers.
"I'd advise you to stay put." Soren said.
"Without that board, you're just another alien. And there are plenty of people on this planet who'd love to dissect you to learn how your heart ticks."
He didn't wait for a reply.
With a shift of weight, the surfboard shuddered and launched.
In a flash of silver light, Soren shot into the sky like a comet breaking orbit, the sudden ascent so violent it ripped a howl from the atmosphere. Clouds bent around the trail he left behind, a silver afterimage etched across the heavens.
The board responded like it was born of his nerves, every subtle twitch in his stance translating into impossible speed.
Soren's maniac laughter was whipped away by the wind as his body adapted instinctively.
A metallic sheen spread across his skin like armor, drawn forth by the surfboard's power, encasing him in a second skin of starlight.
Higher and higher he soared, past the troposphere, brushing through the stratosphere like a skipping stone. Then, with a final burst, he broke the sky.
And was gone.
Below, the space cage flickered, then vanished entirely.
The Silver Surfer stood still. Only the wind moved now, tugging gently at his shoulders.
His eyes remained on that fading speck in the sky, now no more than a silver dot among the dying light of day.
He inhaled slowly, though he didn't need to breathe.
A long, silent moment passed.
"Please… be the one."
In the depths of his chest, the faint hope of a redeemer flickered, someone who could do what he never dared to… stand against Galactus.
And maybe, just maybe… win.
A wall of entropy surged across the void.
Galactus had arrived.
He moved not like a being, but like a phenomenon, a silhouette larger than planets, moving with the inevitability of death itself.
His presence wasn't just seen… it was felt. Gravitational fields rippled and collapsed. Energy signatures from the outer planets, Jupiter, Saturn, flickered and vanished, swallowed like candlelight in a void.
Planets once vibrant with magnetic storms or volcanic activity now floated, cold and inert, drained of all motion.
Behind him trailed ruin, asteroids torn to pebbles, moons cracked open like fruit, radiation fizzled into silence.
Inside observatories across the globe, the data was impossible to watch.
Scientists stared at readings, their mouths dry, the screens painting a clear picture.
An extinction-level event.
"It's over..."
"Is this... the end?"
Broadcasts flickered worldwide. Social media exploded into chaos. Leaders argued in bunkers. Some prayed, some raged, some simply cried.
Even the most seasoned astronomers sat paralyzed, not by fear, but by the magnitude of what they said.
Blip
A silver light, no larger than a breath, appeared in the lower quadrant of the observatory feed.
Faster than any Earth-made object, faster than anything human understanding could grasp, it raced through the upper atmosphere, its tail a blade of silver fire.
People screamed. Cameras zoomed. The internet pulsed with one question.
"What is that?"
At the European Space Agency, someone shouted, "Enhance sector 9-G! Look! It's him!"
Across the world, the feed focused.
A single figure.
A man, shrouded in living silver, surfing through the stars.
GLOBAL REACTIONS
—A child in Tokyo pointed at the screen, wide-eyed. "Is he going to save us?"
—A pastor in Brazil stopped mid-sermon, the congregation frozen with him.
—A woman in Nairobi dropped her shopping bag and whispered, "Please… let him win."
—At NASA, a technician muttered, "He's not running away. He's going toward it."
Soren could see it now, not through optics, but through the board. The surfboard showed him the currents of the cosmos, the gravity tides, the dark matter folds.
And now, it showed him Galactus.
A storm of hunger.
Soren clenched his fists. His silver-wrapped body adjusted again, harmonizing with the energies in the board, his mortal senses fusing with something far beyond human.
He surged forward, a spear of light aimed at the universe.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream