Chapter 58: Ch 57: The Feeling Of God’s Embrace
Done with her meeting with Fury, Gwen Stacy made her way straight to her temporary private quarters in the Triskelion. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, and for the first time in hours, she was alone.
She usually enjoyed bathing, but not today. Today, she spent the better part of an hour carefully washing up, wincing and hissing every time the water hit a bruised rib or a patch of slightly scorched skin.
Gwen finally started to feel somewhat human again. She changed into her own civilian clothes, opting for a white crop top, a comfortable brown leather jacket, high-waisted blue jeans, and a nice pair of knee-high boots.
She packed the charred, battered, explosion-proof Spider-suit back into its silver S.H.I.E.L.D. issue suitcase.
Ten minutes later, she dropped the suitcase onto the desk of a remarkably bored-looking Human Resources agent on another floor. She was the same lady who had handed this suitcase over to her.
"Here you go," Gwen said, offering a tired smile. "It’s, uh... lightly toasted. But still in one piece! Mostly."
The agent just blinked as she accepted the suitcase, not sure what to do with it. Spider-Woman’s resignation was yet to be updated on the central database.
Gwen walked over to the elevator banks, stepping inside an empty car to head down to the ground level where a S.H.I.E.L.D. cab was waiting to take her back to the airport.
A simple 1 hr 30 minutes flight would take her back to New York. This regular flight was already booked for her by S.H.I.E.L.D.
The elevator doors slid closed behind her. Soft, calm elevator music filled the small space... but her thoughts were far from calm.
A jester occupied them completely.
From their first fight at the Daily Bugle to their brutal rematch tonight, one thing was absolutely, terrifyingly clear: Veritas was growing stronger at an impossible pace. In their first encounter, he’d needed several seconds just to brace himself for a single specialized attack.
By their second fight on the bridge, he’d been faster, more creative. And this time... he’d controlled his power so precisely that he could create sky-covering explosions, lightsaber-like plasma blades, teleport all over the place, and move at sonic speeds.
If he kept improving at this rate... she might not be able to save the lives he puts at risk the next time he attacks.
...you no longer interest me anymore...
Gwen shook her head. She didn’t know why his words always echoed in her head.
But still... even without that not-much-effective explosion-proof spider-suit, she had to do something. She can’t let Veritas free.
She made a decision right there in that elevator... she had to save everyone, the people he endangers, and even himself. She was going to go all out from the start, from the next time.
The elevator dinged. Ground floor.
She stepped outside the building and walked to the spot where a S.H.I.E.L.D. cab service car was waiting for her. As she walked toward it, her eyes caught movement near the building’s main entrance.
The hostages they had just rescued from the Lemurian Star were being carefully ushered out of a heavy transport vehicle.
And there, near the back of the group, was Luna Graham.
Gwen stopped walking.
A bitter taste filled Gwen’s mouth. That girl, who looked the same age as her, had been broken by Veritas. Manipulated and turned into a killer.
The eyes of the two girls met for a moment... Luna’s green eyes, of course, didn’t recognize Gwen at all. She simply ignored the blonde girl, just like she was ignoring everything else in the world right now.
The security teams gently guided Luna and the rest of the hostages toward the medical elevators.
After a rigorous, long series of physical checkups, all of the hostages were shuttled over to the psychiatric ward.
Luna waited for her turn in complete silence. Her colleagues glanced at her repeatedly, whispering amongst themselves. They called themselves her friends... to be honest, they really did care for her, but after witnessing what happened on that ship, they were unsure how to act in front of her.
Some looked at her with pity. Others with fear. A few with something that looked uncomfortably like judgment.
She ignored all of them.
"Miss Graham? The doctor will see you now."
Luna stood and walked into the evaluation room without a word. The door clicked shut behind her.
Sitting behind a neat, organized desk was a middle-aged psychiatrist with a gentle smile and a thick notepad.
"Welcome, Miss Graham," the doctor said in a soothing, professional tone. "Please, take a seat."
"Hello, Dr. Abagnale," Luna said, taking her seat with a heavy, exhausted sigh.
Dr. Frank Abagnale was one of the foremost psychologists in the country, a man who lent his considerable expertise to S.H.I.E.L.D. whenever the agency encountered cases that required more than just a standard debriefing.
Lately, Frank had devoted almost all of his time to studying one specific subject: Veritas.
He had personally interviewed nearly every victim of the Jester. So when the call came about the Lemurian Star, Frank had immediately boarded a flight to offer his expertise.
"It was a tough day, wasn’t it?" he said, reaching for his glass of water and taking a slow sip.
"It sure was," Luna replied evenly.
Dr. Abagnale’s pen hovered over his notepad. He instantly disliked the flat, completely unaffected tone of her voice.
Just a few hours ago, this young woman had discovered the horrifying truth about her family’s death and had shot the man responsible for that on a live broadcast.
If she were a hardened S.H.I.E.L.D. field agent, that kind of compartmentalization would be understandable. But he had read her file. Luna Graham was a desk jockey. A low-level techie who calibrated satellite launch telemetry, configured routers and communication devices.
She had basic training, nothing more. She should be in shock.
Pushing his concerns aside, Dr. Frank ran her through a standard battery of cognitive exercises to ensure her brain was functioning correctly.
After a bit of light, comfortable conversation to establish a baseline, he transitioned into the real evaluation.
He asked the routine questions designed to diagnose acute trauma, but Luna answered each one with chilling efficiency.
Finally, Dr. Frank exhaled, turning to a fresh page in his thick notebook.
"I deeply sympathize with what you endured today, Miss Graham," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "And I know this is incredibly uncomfortable to talk about. But could you tell me... what exactly went through your mind the moment you pressed the trigger?"
Luna looked up at the ceiling for a moment, her green eyes distant.
"At that moment... thousands of thoughts were racing through my mind," Luna replied softly. "I felt a blinding anger. I felt a crushing sadness. There was a lot of uncertainty, too. But... that uncertainty very quickly became absolute certainty."
Frank wrote a quick note. It was obvious how that uncertainty had cleared up. A whispering devil in a jester mask had been standing right behind her, guiding her hand, and her mind...
"I see," Dr. Frank nodded slowly. "And how did you feel after you shot him? Did taking your revenge make you feel happy?"
"I did, in fact, feel very good," Luna said, a faint, genuine smile touching her lips. "Killing that monster with my own hands... it felt like a massive, suffocating boulder had finally been lifted off my chest."
Seeing her smile in such a quiet, peaceful way while discussing a homicide gave Frank a sudden, uneasy feeling. He decided it was time to push a little harder. Sometimes, a psychologist had to aggressively poke at a patient’s defense mechanisms to get to the raw truth.
"Miss Graham, let’s be entirely honest with ourselves here," Dr. Abagnale said, his voice taking on a sharper, more challenging edge. "Do you honestly believe it was your hands that killed Lucas West? Everything you did in that room was dictated by Veritas. You were a puppet, and he was pulling your strings."
Luna’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened just a fraction, sending a tiny flicker of alarm through the doctor.
"You stopped crying the second he scolded you," Frank pressed, leaning over his desk to lock eyes with her. "You pulled the trigger because he nudged you. You wept because he told you to. You were just an instrument for a terrorist’s twisted show."
"You might be right, Dr. Frank," Luna said, her voice dropping to a soft, melodic whisper. "My actions in that room... they truly might not have been my own. Perhaps he did guide me like a lost lamb..."
She closed her eyes, gently crossing her palms over her chest, holding herself as if she could still feel a phantom warmth of Veritas wrapped around her shoulders.
"But my tears? I cried those entirely out of my own free will," Luna whispered, "After all... didn’t you hear his voice, too, Doctor? Didn’t you hear the sheer, beautiful agony he felt for my pain? The way he comforted me, held me, and carried my burden?"
Hearing her words, Frank felt completely paralyzed for some reason...
"Tell me, Dr. Frank..." Luna whispered, her voice carrying a spine-chilling intensity. "Wouldn’t anyone cry if God finally reached down from the heavens to embrace them? Would it not touch your heart if God pulled you under his wings and told you it was okay to burn the demons who walked in human skin?"
Hours later, Dr. Abagnale finalized the report...
His report was deeply troubling.
Luna Graham’s mind was entirely intact. She wasn’t insane, she wasn’t suffering from a psychotic break, and her cognitive functions were exceptionally sharp.
But her entire moral code, her worldview, and her understanding of right and wrong had been completely shattered and reconstructed by Veritas.
Dr. Abagnale concluded the report with a single, sobering note:
I am not certain how this evaluation will assist in determining her legal culpability for the death of Lucas West. What I am certain of is that Luna Graham is no longer the person who boarded the Lemurian Star. Whether she can ever be that person again is a question I cannot answer.
He closed the file and stared at his computer screen for a long moment. Then he added one final line:
And I am increasingly convinced that this is exactly what Veritas intended.
Somewhere out there, behind that white mask, the Jester was probably smiling. At least that’s what Frank thought.
.
.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, Luna’s god was currently lying on an old mattress in an unfinished mall building near a highway.
Luke Dunphy - better known to the world as Veritas - was scrolling lazily through the patron comments on his phone.
Today’s stream donations were massive!
He had skimmed through the rewards earlier, and now was the time to accept them.
[Quest: Live Terror Stream]
Objective: Conduct a live-streamed event within any public, commercial, private, or restricted facility.
Conditions:
— 30+ minutes duration
— 20+ hostages
Reward: Terror Shop Discount Voucher (50% off) + 140 Terror Points
Bonus Condition:
— Engage in battle with a superpowered individual.
Bonus Reward: +100 Terror Points (Extra points awarded depending on enemy strength.)
[Status: Accomplished successfully.]
[-------------------------------------------------------------------------]
— Exceeded duration by 11+ minute: +22 TP
— Exceeded hostage count by 16: +26 TP
Available Rewards:
— Terror Shop Discount Voucher (50% off)
— +140 Base TP
— +110 Battle Bonus TP
— +48 Overachievement TP
[Accept Rewards] [Reject Rewards]
[-------------------------------------------------------------------------]
Luke tapped [Accept Rewards].
He clicked over to check his updated statistics.
[---------------------------------]
Username: Luke Dunphy
Terrorist Rank: 4,899,457 →4,659,858
Power Level: D+
Achievements: New Recruit
Total Terror Points: 859
[---------------------------------]
[Next Quest Wait Time: 20 Hours 11 minutes]
[---------------------------------]
Latest Stream Stats - Patron Section:
Max Viewers: 43
Total Duration: 41 min
Total Hostages: 46
Comments: 108 | Likes: 88 | TP Donations: 522
[---------------------------------]
Luke broke into a massive smile.
He closed the stats window and pulled up the Terror Shop.
It was time to buy the skill he’d been saving for. The one that would take his abilities to the next level.
====================================
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