Chapter 12 – The Countdown
Morning bled slowly into Stark Manor. Ethan had been awake for hours already, his shirt clinging to him after another brutal round of training. Push-ups, squats, sit-ups, running drills—every bit of work shaved away the lazy persona he wore like armor. When the maid tapped at his door to "wake him," he was already seated at his desk, hair artfully messy, pretending to yawn like he hadn't just crushed another Daily Quest at dawn.
[Daily Quest Complete]
Reward: +3 Stat Points, Low-Grade Random Box.
He flicked the window away. The reminder of what truly mattered sat beneath it:
[Emergency Quest – Demonic Presence in Queens]
Time Remaining: 36 hours, 22 minutes.
The letters burned like a brand. He had felt its pressure all through the night. Every second was a reminder that something was stirring, something tied to Hell itself.
But if anyone looked at him as he strolled into Midtown Prep, they'd never know it.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and jealous admirers," Ethan declared, striding into class with a grin. "Your favorite Stark has arrived. Please, contain your applause."
Hope Van Dyne rolled her eyes, but there was a smirk tugging at her lips. Danny Rand gave him a calm nod. Jessica Jones didn't even bother removing her headphones.
"You're late," Hope said, not looking up from her notes.
"Correction," Ethan countered, sliding into his chair. "I'm timely, you're early, and Jessica… is spiritually detached from time itself."
Jessica's middle finger shot up without her lifting her head.
Ethan clutched his chest. "Ah, her affection speaks volumes."
The class around them chuckled. To them, Ethan was just the loudmouth playboy younger Stark—Tony's shadow, always ready with a joke. Only Ethan knew that every laugh gave him cover. If they were busy watching his antics, they weren't seeing the boy who stayed up all night training, who felt the weight of Queens pressing against his chest like a ticking bomb.
By lunchtime, the act hadn't slipped. The group gathered at their usual bleachers. Hope offered him a sandwich again; he waved it away.
"I'm fasting," Ethan said.
"You're weird," Hope replied.
"Incorrect. I'm an enlightened ascetic. Stark fasting method. Only the most advanced practitioners can survive."
Danny raised a brow. "You mean you forgot breakfast again?"
"Semantics," Ethan shot back.
Even Jessica snorted under her breath. For a heartbeat, everything felt normal. Then the shadow at his feet twitched unnaturally. Only he noticed.
The System was reminding him: time was running out.
That evening, after ditching the chauffeur and slipping away to the warehouse in Queens, Ethan summoned his army.
The air grew cold as shadows spilled outward. Igris emerged first, kneeling like a knight before his lord. The Skeletal Brute shambled forward, bones clicking. Two goblins hissed, blades gleaming faintly. The Shadow Wolf padded closer, its eyes glowing like embers. The newest soldier—a faceless husk—stood quietly at the rear.
Ethan inspected them. His army was still small. But it was growing.
"Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Training starts now."
The night rang with the clash of steel, the guttural growls of monsters, and Ethan's commands cutting through the chaos. Igris moved with deadly precision, while the goblins grew sharper and faster under pressure. The wolf lunged again and again, growing smoother with each strike. Sweat drenched Ethan as he corrected their movements, pushing them harder.
[Your summon: Shadow Wolf has leveled up.]
[Your summon: Lesser Goblin Soldier has leveled up.]
Progress. Not fast enough, but progress.
Hours later, he dismissed them. The shadows receded—but not completely. They lingered longer than they should have, twisting, curling, whispering. Voices brushed at the edge of his hearing, speaking words he didn't understand. The same chill crawled down his spine every time.
Hell was close. Too close.
Dinner at Stark Manor was as it always was—Howard's talk of industry, Tony rambling about reactors, Maria smiling between them. Ethan cracked jokes and played his part. But underneath, he counted down.
Nine days until December 16th.Thirty-six hours until the demonic presence broke loose in Queens.
This time, he would be ready for both.
Later that night, Ethan sat at his desk, staring at the city lights flickering against the horizon. His Status Window hovered before him.
Name: Ethan Stark
Level: 9
Job: Pending
HP: 910/910
MP: 320/320
Fatigue: 10
Strength: 49
Agility: 47
Vitality: 45
Intelligence: 50
Sense: 46
Luck: 16
Skills:
Passive:
Tenacity Lv.3
Unarmed Combat Basics Lv.4
Active:
Shadow Storage Lv.2
Shadow Extraction Lv.1
Shadow Exchange (Locked)
Stealth Lv.1
Shadow Storage (6/10):
Igris [Lv.8 | Rank: Knight]
Skeletal Brute [Lv.6 | Rank: Normal]
Lesser Goblin Soldier ×2 [Lv.5 | Rank: Normal]
Shadow Wolf [Lv.4 | Rank: Beast]
Newly-Risen [Lv.3 | Rank: Normal]
Quest Active:
[Emergency Quest – Demonic Presence in Queens]
Time Left: 36h 02m
Ethan leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. Somewhere out there in Queens, something was waiting. The whispers in the dark promised it wasn't human.
And he was running out of time.