343
Chapter 343:
– Carol –
Carol's fists moved in a blur, each punch landing with ruthless force. The street echoed with the sharp cracks of breaking bones and the hoarse cries of pain.
"Shit! Get away from her!" one of them shrieked, trying to drag his friend back.
"No—no—my arm! Oh god, she broke my arm!" another howled, cradling the twisted limb that now jutted at an unnatural angle.
Gang members from the ABB dropped around her, their weapons useless, their bravado shattered. Noses were smashed, arms twisted in directions nature never intended, and knees buckled beneath them as they collapsed.
"Please! We didn’t sign up for this!" someone sobbed, crawling away on hands slick with blood.
They were screaming now, some begging, others just howling as they writhed on the pavement. She tore through them without hesitation, a force of raw precision and fury.
"She’s not even human," one whispered hoarsely, eyes wide with terror.
Guns, knives, lead pipes. It didn’t matter. None of it touched her. It bounced off or shattered on impact. She was Captain Marvel.
She was fucking HER!
That's something Layla would occasionally say, at least, and Carol definitely approved of the line. It was fun.
Then, without warning but not catching her off guard, there was a soft pop behind her. Her head tilted slightly, not out of alarm but irritation, as she glanced over her shoulder.
Oni Li, or rather, one of his cheap clone bodies. His real self had already vanished in a dramatic puff of ash, like some edgy stage magician. The clone looked wild-eyed and desperate, bombs strapped tightly to his chest.
Carol rolled her eyes. "You guys really don’t know when to quit."
"You won’t walk away from this, bitch," the clone snarled.
He charged before she could finish smirking. She didn’t dodge—why would she? He wasn’t a threat. Not to her.
The clone threw his arms around her in a clumsy embrace and hissed in furious Japanese, "Die, you gaijin whore!"
Then came the explosion.
Carol's rainbow aura flared instantly, wrapping around her in a vibrant cocoon. She didn’t need it for protection—not even close—but that didn’t mean she was about to let herself get splattered with ash and gore. Clone or not, the idea of some freak blowing himself up against was gross.
The blast rocked the street, kicking up a swirling wall of smoke and dust. Shards of debris clattered off the shimmering barrier around her, dissolving harmlessly into sparks. As the haze cleared, Carol stood exactly where she had been, untouched. Her expression was flat, almost bored, as if the whole thing had been a mild inconvenience.
A few feet away, the Fallcorp camera crew huddled behind their equipment, now emerging and scrambling to get a better shot. Civilians—those who’d been too dumb or too stunned to leave—began clapping and shouting.
"She’s still standing!"
"Holy shit, she tanked it like it was nothing!"
"CAPTAIN MARVEL!"
Carol exhaled through her nose and crossed her arms, lips twitching just slightly. She didn’t do this for praise. But if they wanted to cheer, she wasn’t going to stop them.
Then came another pop—louder this time, followed by several more in quick succession. Carol’s head snapped toward the sound just as half a dozen more clones of Oni Li appeared across the street, their bodies twitching and strapped with explosives. They began to sprint toward her all at once, screaming wildly.
"All for Oni Li!"
"You will burn with us!"
"Glory in death!"
Carol immediately noticed the problem. It wasn’t the clones—she could swat them away like flies. But if they all exploded at once, the blast radius might catch the camera crew or one of the clueless civilians still standing nearby.
Her jaw tightened. That wasn’t happening.
Time seemed to slow as she dropped into overdrive. Her senses sharpened to pinpoint focus. Every movement around her became crisp and precise. Her expression hardened. Just slightly.
With calculated precision, Carol launched into action. Before any of the clones could close the distance, she intercepted them one by one. Her hands moved faster than the human eye could follow, grabbing each charging clone by the collar or arm. They didn’t even have time to understand what was happening.
She threw them, straight upward with enough force to reach the clouds above. One after another, the sky lit up in distant flashes as each clone detonated safely in the air. Even as the last flash faded, Carol was already gone. She accelerated into a blur, the world around her warping with speed. In less than a second, she appeared behind a pile of broken concrete several blocks away. Right where the real Oni Li had just reappeared to regroup himself.
He was mid-gesture, already trying to create another clone.
His eyes widened.
"Nani—"
Her palm connected with his face in a sharp, stunning slap. It wasn’t just a strike. It was a statement. His mask shattered, flying off in two jagged pieces, and he crumpled to the pavement with a satisfying thud.
She stood over him. "Stay down," she muttered.
Carol moved again, vanishing from the alley and reappearing in front of Fallcorp headquarters in the blink of an eye. The street in front of the building was scorched and cracked. Flames licked at the pavement, and a wall of heat radiated outward from the figure standing in the center of the destruction.
Lung stood there, his body completely engulfed in fire. His form had changed—scaled skin, claws, and glowing eyes. Around him, the broken bodies of his gang members littered the ground, groaning or unconscious.
Carol’s eyes narrowed. She could feel the temperature shift even through her aura.
“You viciously beat my men,” Lung growled, his voice distorted by the fire curling around his mouth. “You humiliated my attack dog. And now you show your back to the dragon!?”
Carol scoffed openly, unfazed. “Dragon? You’re not a dragon. You’re just a disgusting criminal...”
The flames surged as Lung’s fury flared. “You dare mock the title?”
"I definitely fucking dare," she said, her tone sharp and unflinching. "What exactly are you going to do about it?" She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a defiant smirk.
Lung roared in rage, a guttural scream that shook nearby windows. "I’m going to fucking rip your limbs off! I’ll desecrate your corpse in the name of the dragon!"
His massive form lurched forward. Now standing nearly ten feet tall, his claws dug into the pavement as he charged. Each step cracked the ground beneath him, flames rolling off his body in waves. The air shimmered from the heat. He moved with impressive speed for someone his size, his right arm rearing back for a strike aimed directly at her head.
Carol didn’t budge. She stood perfectly still. Lung’s flaming, scaled fist smashed into her forehead with all the force of his fury. There was a sickening crunch, followed immediately by an agonized scream. But it didn’t come from her.
"HOW!?" Lung recoiled, cradling his broken hand, bones visibly shattered beneath his scaly flesh. He staggered back, howling in pain as Carol looked up at him, completely unharmed.
"Is that it?" she asked, her voice calm. "That was pathetic."
From the sidewalk and nearby rooftops, the watching crowd of civilians erupted into cheers.
"Take him down, Captain Marvel!"
"Kick his scaly ass!"
"Get this monster out of our fucking city! Brockton Bay doesn't want rapist evil capes anymore!"
The Fallcorp camera crew sprang back into action, their director waving his arms wildly. "Get in there, get the close-up! This is gold! Don’t you dare lose that shot!"
Carol turned her head slightly, not taking her eyes off Lung. "Don’t move closer," she called out in a sharp, clear voice. "Not until I’ve handled the lizard man."
Lung snarled at the insult. "I am not a lizard, you arrogant whore! I am a dragon!"
"Sure you are," she muttered dryly, her focus sharpening again as the flames around Lung flared with renewed rage. His body even started growing larger and larger. His clothes burned off completely as he became a 15 foot tall monster. Even bigger than the Hulk, but not even close to as powerful.
Lung’s broken hand healed in seconds as his body continued to swell with power. Muscles thickened, scales spread across his arms and chest, and the fire around him grew hotter. He growled low in his throat, then lunged forward and wrapped both arms tightly around Carol, locking her in a crushing grip.
“I’m going to fucking crush you!” he bellowed, tightening his hold with every ounce of strength.
Carol stayed still, arms pinned to her sides, her expression unimpressed. She felt the pressure building—he was putting everything he had into it. If his face wasn’t covered in armored scales, she imagined it would’ve been red with strain. He gritted his jagged teeth and roared in frustration.
“Why won’t you break!?” he screamed, his voice cracking.
“Because you’re weak,” Carol replied flatly.
With a single motion, she pushed his massive hands away from her body with ease. Lung stumbled back a half-step in disbelief.
“Only one person is allowed to put their hands on me,” Carol added, her voice sharper now, “and you’re not even close to as soft as she is.”
Before Lung could react, she drew her fist back and drove it straight into his chest. The impact was thunderous. His entire upper body folded inward from the blow, and a deafening shockwave tore through the street. Dust, asphalt, and shards of concrete exploded outward.
People watching screamed as the pressure wave blasted past them. Lung’s huge body was lifted off the ground and launched into the air, rocketing above the skyline like a giant lizard sized missile.
Carol's aura flared around her, bright and pulsing with energy, as she took off after him. She caught up in seconds, right as his limp body slammed into the sand of Brockton Bay’s beach with a deep crash.
A few startled beachgoers screamed and scrambled for cover. Towels, umbrellas, and coolers were flung into the air.
Ooops...
Thankfully, he hadn’t landed on anyone. Carol grimaced slightly. That could’ve gone badly. She usually didn’t fuck up like that, but this guy just really pissed her off and she’d wanted to drag out his humiliation a bit.
“I should’ve hit him a little harder,” she muttered to herself. “At least enough to get him in the water.” She landed gently in the sand. “Sorry for the interruption, folks,” she said casually to the stunned beach crowd, as if she’d merely interrupted a volleyball game.
Lung groaned in the sand, trying to push himself up. "I'm not done yet, bitch!"
Carol didn’t let him get that far. She stepped forward and kicked him across the ribs with such force that he shot out over the water, skimming the ocean’s surface like a skipping stone before vanishing into the waves.
“Enjoy your beach day,” she called out, waving with a grin before flying off after him.
Carol suddenly heard a sharp woosh behind her as she flew low over the water, scanning the surface to figure out where Lung had sunk. She turned mid-air, energy flaring slightly in reflex, only to see a blonde girl in a red bikini flying up toward her.
It took a second, but she recognized the girl. Victoria Dallon. Known publicly as Glory Girl. One of the local heroes from New Wave.
"What the hell was that about?" Victoria shouted, hovering beside her, clearly rattled. Her eyes were darting across the water, and her body moved in fast, erratic zips as she tried to look from different angles. "Was that Lung!? I just saw him fly over half the city! He almost landed on top of me and my sister on her day off! Do you know how hard it is to get her to take a day off! What is going on here!"
Carol sighed heavily and kept her gaze fixed on the bubbling ocean below. "It’s none of your business, and we’ve got it under control," she said flatly.
Victoria hovered in place, clearly annoyed by the dismissive tone. "What!? Who the hell is we!?"
Carol didn’t answer. Her eyes narrowed. The water below them had begun to boil—bubbles surfacing rapidly, steam hissing into the air. Carol exhaled slowly. "Huh. Didn’t think he could swim."
Glory Girl was still hovering beside her, but now she was visibly trembling. Her hands were clenched into shaky fists, and her legs twitched with nervous energy as she tried to hold herself still in the air.
Suddenly, the ocean erupted. A 30 foot mass of red and black burst forth from beneath the surface. Water cascaded off the newly transformed figure as Lung rose up, now a monstrous thirty-foot dragon. Jagged black and red scales covered every inch of his body, bone-white spikes protruded along his spine and limbs, and massive wings spread out from his back, dripping seawater.
Carol whistled, unimpressed but mildly surprised. "Okay... maybe he is a dragon. A small one." She crossed her arms, hovering in place as she looked up at him. Honestly, she’d seen dragons the size of space stations back in her own universe. This guy? He looked like a child throwing a tantrum by comparison.
“Oh fuck!? He’s really pissed off! What the hell are we supposed to do!?” Victoria shouted.
Carol turned her head just enough to give Victoria a sidelong look. “You’re not supposed to do anything,” she said firmly. “This fight’s mine. It’s already dragged on too long, and honestly?” She rolled her shoulders. “It’s getting embarrassing that he's still conscious at this point.”
– Vicky –
Victoria stayed where she was, floating just a few feet above the water. The wind tugged at her hair, and her new bikini stuck uncomfortably to her damp skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her sister Amy was probably still back on the beach losing her mind that Victoria had flown off so suddenly, but Victoria couldn’t look away.
She was watching Lung get the absolute shit kicked out of him.
Captain Marvel—Vicky had seen the commercials and knew who the woman was, of course—moved with such speed and force that Victoria could barely follow what was happening.
Lung, even in his enormous dragon form, was being pummeled from every angle. Scales flew off his body and splashed into the water like hot coals, hissing on contact. His monstrous arms flailed as Carol tore into him with precise, brutal strikes. Her glowing fists moved in a blur, each punch causing shockwaves that rattled the air and churned up the sea.
Victoria had never seen anything like it. She couldn’t think of a single hero—local, national, or international—who could do to Lung what Carol was doing right now.
Lung screamed in agony. Not just in one language, but in a chaotic mess of Chinese, Japanese, and English, switching between them as he begged for mercy. “Please! Stop!” he howled in English, coughing between his words. “I surrender! I yield! No more!” In Japanese, he shouted, “Yamete! Onegai!” And in Mandarin, he cried out for help, for forgiveness, for an end to the pain.
...At least, Vicky thought he was. She didn't really know Chinese.
Carol gave him none of what he begged for of course.
Victoria hovered there, jaw slightly open, as she watched Lung shrink—his power diminishing under the relentless assault. He didn’t just stop growing. He was actively shrinking back down, his monstrous form unraveling until he was once again just a heavily bruised man.
Unconscious, beaten, and completely outclassed.
Carol flew over, holding Lung upside down by one ankle. She wore a smirk that radiated quiet satisfaction. "Beating him up was oddly therapeutic, I suppose," she muttered to herself. Then Carol added, more to herself than to Victoria, "I’ve been so fucking pent up lately. Hard to get time with my girlfriend these past two weeks..."
Victoria’s face turned red immediately. She looked away, pretending to focus on the water below. 'Pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to hear that,' she thought.
“Come on, little girl…” Carol called out and Vicky pouted but didn't say anything bad back to the woman that just stomped Lung down. She followed Carol as they started flying back toward the beach.
Vicky landed on the sand, her feet kicking up a small spray as she touched down. Of course a crowd had gathered—dozens of civilians had watched Lung get his ass handed to him from the shoreline. They were still murmuring and pointing, some recording, others cheering.
“Did you see how far she punted him!?” someone exclaimed from near the ice cream stand.
“Holy crap, that was Lung! I thought he was unstoppable!” a man muttered as he tried to zoom in on his phone footage.
A kid in beach shorts shouted, “She folded him like laundry!” which earned a round of laughter from the crowd.
Another woman whispered, “I got the whole thing, oh my god, this is going viral.”
A group of teenagers chanted, “Captain Marvel! Captain Marvel!” as they waved at Carol in the distance.
Her sister Amy was already stomping toward her through the sand, her expression thunderous. Amy wore a modest, dark one-piece swimsuit, the kind that screamed practicality over fashion. Vicky always tried to tell her she was one of the most desirable and eligible bachelorettes in the city, what with her amazing healing powers and total brilliance, but Amy never seemed to believe her.
Amy didn’t say anything at first. She just reached out and jabbed Vicky hard in the shoulder.
“Ow! What the hell?” Vicky flinched, rubbing the spot. Did her sister just use her powers on her to make her more sensitive for a second!?
“That was really dumb,” Amy snapped. “Flying off after Captain Marvel and Lung? What the fuck, Vicky? You could have died!”
Vicky shrugged with a big grin. “It was fine!” she insisted. “You should’ve seen it up close, Amy. It was totes amazing! Lung got his shit wrecked. Like, totally demolished. I wish I had my phone with me! I would’ve gotten so many clicks on PHO!” She laughed. “At least I can give a first-hand account though. The ‘Dragon of Brockton Bay’ was whining like a bitch in three languages. It was beautiful.”
Amy stared at her for a moment, her mouth slightly open. Then she shook her head slowly. “You’re dumb,” she muttered.
“Hey!” Vicky pouted, crossing her arms. “That’s rude.”
Suddenly, gasps rippled through the crowd. Vicky turned toward the source just as a swirling purple portal opened above the sand with a sharp hum. Her eyebrows shot up.
Since when could any cape in Brockton Bay do that?
From the glowing aperture stepped Armsmaster, fully armored and scanning the area immediately. But it was who followed behind him that truly made Vicky's eyes widen.
Layla…
The Layla. CEO of Fallcorp, media darling, and known across every major outlet for both her powerful public presence and jaw-dropping beauty. Vicky had seen her on TV nearly every day and, if she was honest, had seen her even more often on certain thirst-bait threads and image forums on PHO. VIcky didn't click on them on purpose! They were just EVERYWHERE online these days! That's how popular the CEO was...
She wasn’t the only one starstruck though.
Amy, standing next to her, abruptly stiffened. Her face turned a deep crimson as her fingers nervously gripped at the hem of her swimsuit. "Oh my god... it’s really her…" Amy mumbled, almost too softly to hear.
Vicky blinked. Wait. That tone. That expression. Was Amy... crushing?
She did a double take, her eyes darting between her blushing sister and the approaching CEO.
Wait a second.
Did her sister like women?
Because that was absolutely a crush reaction if Vicky had ever seen one. Huh...? That explained a lot. Like why every single date Vicky had ever tried to set Amy up on had failed spectacularly. Her lips curled into a sly grin. They were so going to talk about that later.
"Come on," Vicky said, grabbing Amy's arm. "Let's go say hi!" she added with a giggle. Obviously, Layla was too old for her sister, but that didn't mean they couldn't just talk. Vicky also had so many questions!
"Wait—Vicky—no—" Amy squeaked in protest, trying to dig her heels into the sand, but it was too late. Vicky dragged her sister through the crowd on the beach, straight toward Layla, Carol, and Armsmaster.
Armsmaster who looked like he was actually sulking for some reason…
XXX