"Roar!!!"
The sound tore through the sky like something dragged straight out of a forgotten age, ancient and violent in a way that made the air itself tremble. The enormous beast that had manifested from the depths of Locke's power lifted its head and bellowed, its voice rolling outward in waves of thunder and hurricane force winds that shook everything within sight.
It didn't just dominate the sky.
It erased it.
The sheer scale of the creature blotted out the heavens, its massive form eclipsing the fading sunlight and casting the world below into a dim, oppressive shadow. There was nothing subtle about its presence. It was raw, overwhelming, and arrogant, like a force of nature that had never once needed to consider resistance.
Even seasoned superheroes would hesitate in the face of something like this.
Because at the end of the day, they were still human.
And what hovered above them now was anything but.
The terrifying Xuanwu manifestation wasn't bound by human limits, and the moment Locke's Xuanwu True Skill fused with his awakened bloodline, the result became something far beyond simple addition. The synergy between the two forces amplified each other to a degree that defied common sense, creating an exponential leap in power that could only be described in extremes.
It wasn't just stronger.
It was a complete shift in scale.
If ordinary strength was like conventional weaponry, then what Locke had just achieved was the equivalent of replacing that with nuclear deterrence. The increase wasn't incremental—it was thousands, even tens of thousands of times greater. And the only reason this transformation could exist at all was because Locke's body possessed a level of potential that could actually sustain it.
That was the real foundation of his power.
Without it, even attempting to wield the Xuanwu True Skill like this would have destroyed the user instantly.
But Locke wasn't "anyone."
And that made all the difference.
At that exact moment, a sharp mechanical hum cut through the atmosphere.
A small reconnaissance aircraft was approaching from the horizon, moving fast and low as it cut through the thinning remnants of the storm. The sleek body of the drone gleamed under the dim light, and mounted on its exterior was a 360-degree camera system capturing everything in real time.
Back at the command point, Nick Fury stood rigid, staring at the live feed projected from his high-tech bracelet.
The moment the image stabilized, his expression changed.
A chill ran straight down his spine.
"What the hell is that…" he muttered.
On the screen, the colossal silhouette of the Xuanwu loomed, its massive shell like a moving mountain and its serpentine tail coiling above it like a living storm. The combination of turtle and serpent twisted into a single existence was so alien, so terrifying, that even someone like Fury—someone who had seen more secrets than most people knew existed—couldn't make sense of it.
He knew classified files.
He knew alien threats.
He knew the darkest corners of the world.
But this?
This didn't match anything.
"What kind of monster is that…" he said quietly, his voice tight.
If something like that decided to move freely through the city, the consequences wouldn't just be severe. They would be catastrophic.
For a brief moment, Fury's face hardened with a kind of forced resolve. He straightened slightly, as if convincing himself of something, and the familiar mask of authority returned to his expression. In that instant, he looked like a man carrying the weight of an entire country on his shoulders, like someone who believed it was his responsibility to stand between chaos and order.
S.H.I.E.L.D. existed for moments like this.
And "justice," at least in his mind, was something that had to be upheld no matter the cost.
…
"Wow… that's insane. That's actually insane…"
Under the shifting shadows cast by the fading tree, two figures ran forward, their footsteps crunching against the uneven ground as they closed in on the center of everything. April and her cameraman had pushed far beyond where anyone reasonable would have stopped, and as they broke through the last stretch of terrain, the full scope of what was happening revealed itself before them.
The golden tree had vanished.
In its place, the massive Xuanwu form dominated the sky, its presence so overwhelming that it felt like the world itself had been replaced by something else entirely. The air shimmered with energy, and streaks of lightning and flame intertwined overhead, forming patterns that looked almost like living auroras.
Except these were brighter.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
They pulsed with an intensity that made the natural aurora borealis look faint by comparison.
"It's… beautiful…" April whispered.
There was no fear in her voice, only awe.
As a reporter, she thrived in moments like this. Danger didn't push her away—it pulled her in. The unknown wasn't something to avoid. It was something to chase, to uncover, to understand. Every step she had taken to get here had been a risk, but it was also the reason she was now witnessing something no one else had seen this closely.
Beside her, the cameraman felt the exact opposite.
His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the lens, his breath uneven as he tried to process what he was seeing. He wasn't built for this. He wasn't someone who chased danger. He was just an ordinary person who happened to be holding a camera in a situation that had gone far beyond anything he had ever imagined.
If it weren't for his professional instinct keeping him rooted in place, he would have turned and run already.
Then, in the middle of that tension, something caught his eye.
His gaze snapped toward a nearby corner, and the moment he focused, his entire body stiffened.
"How is that even possible…?" he blurted out.
April barely reacted at first. She had already decided that her partner lacked the composure needed for this kind of work, and his constant reactions were starting to feel more annoying than helpful.
"What now?" she said dismissively.
But the cameraman didn't back down.
"No, you need to see this," he insisted, his voice on the edge of panic.
His finger pointed toward the shadows, and after a moment of hesitation, April followed his line of sight.
Then she saw them.
Standing there, partially concealed but unmistakable, were the figures of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Their massive frames and distinct silhouettes made them impossible to miss, and at the center of them stood a tall, composed figure.
Master Splinter.
April's expression lit up instantly.
She remembered them.
They had saved her once before, and that alone was enough to make her feel a strange sense of familiarity, even gratitude.
"Let's go talk to them," she said quickly, already moving before she finished the sentence.
The cameraman froze for half a second, his instincts screaming at him to stay put, but the thought of being left alone in a place like this was even worse. Gritting his teeth, he hurried after her.
As they drew closer, the scene that unfolded before them made both of them stop in their tracks.
Splinter… knelt.
Slowly, deliberately, the rat master lowered himself to the ground in front of the fading presence of the divine tree. His posture was calm, reverent, almost ritualistic. One by one, the turtles followed his lead, dropping to their knees with the same quiet seriousness.
It didn't look like submission.
It looked like pilgrimage.
Their faces were filled with sincerity, with belief, with something that felt deeply personal and unshakable. It wasn't forced. It wasn't hesitant. It was devotion.
April stared at them, stunned.
These weren't ordinary people. These were powerful individuals, fighters who had proven themselves in battle time and time again. And yet here they were, kneeling without hesitation.
Why?
"What… is this?" she murmured.
For a moment, a ridiculous thought crossed her mind. Could they have been tricked? Manipulated by someone pretending to be greater than they were? But the idea collapsed almost immediately under its own weight.
No.
That didn't make sense.
These weren't fools.
If they were kneeling, then there was only one explanation.
They believed.
They were worshiping something—or someone—who truly deserved it.
April's eyes brightened as the realization settled in.
She felt like she was on the edge of uncovering something massive, something that could redefine everything people thought they knew. The excitement surged through her, making her clench her fist as a grin spread across her face.
"If that's true… this is going to be huge," she said, barely containing herself.
And just as her anticipation peaked, a sharp mechanical sound cut through the air.
A reconnaissance aircraft streaked overhead, moving at incredible speed as it crossed directly above the scene. Its sleek design and the unmistakable S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia made its origin obvious, and for a brief moment, it seemed like it would pass through without issue.
Then it entered the range of the Xuanwu.
And everything changed.
The aircraft didn't explode.
It didn't crash.
It simply… came apart.
Piece by piece, the structure disintegrated mid-air, as if it had been erased by an invisible force. There was no visible impact, no collision, no warning. It just ceased to exist as a functioning object, its fragments scattering into nothingness before they could even hit the ground.
April blinked, stunned.
"What was that…?" she said slowly.
Her mind raced for an explanation, but none of them felt sufficient.
"…Did that… god do it?" she whispered.
At the same time, from beneath the towering Xuanwu, a new sound emerged.
A deep, feral roar.
It wasn't the same as before.
This one carried heat, fury, something primal and ancient that felt like it belonged to a completely different legend.
It sounded like the cry of a fire qilin.
.....
Join my p@treon and read ahead by more than 60+ chapters.
Link : [email protected]/Sonic_Spectre
Free members can read the next two chapters for free on my p@treon