Marvel Zodiac knight

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Power💎 stones 💎

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"James, won't you come to save me?"

"Please, James, they're so fierce! Come and save me!"

"James!"

A burst of red flames erupted, engulfing James as the Zodiac Armor rushed to cover his entire body. His black wings unfurled dramatically behind him, stunning Peter, who stood nearby.

"So cool!" Peter exclaimed, a mix of admiration and concern in his voice.

"I know where she is," James said, his tone serious. "You should head back. Tonight, Spider-Man shouldn't get involved." With a powerful flap of his wings, he ascended into the air, leaving Peter on the ground.

"We don't know the full situation! I can help—" Peter started, but before he could finish, a loud sonic boom echoed through the air as James shot off into the night like a black streak.

"Wow, talk about overdoing it…" Peter murmured, shaking his head before shooting a web and following in the direction James had taken.

---

Clarice stirred awake to find herself in a dim room filled with a dozen children her age, all lying on the floor in various states of distress. Outside, a group of rough-looking individuals loomed, their laughter chilling her to the bone.

A couple of older kids were curled up, moaning in pain. One of the men sneered, "Thought you could run away, huh? We'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!"

Clarice shrank back against the wall, heart pounding. She knew she was outmatched; even with the fighting skills her brother had taught her, these guys were dangerous. They outnumbered her and were armed.

"Hiss!" A child behind her winced as Clarice accidentally brushed against a wound on their arm.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, turning to see a frail girl with big, fearful eyes.

The girl shook her head, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It's okay," Clarice said softly, trying to be brave. "My name is Clarice. What's yours?"

"Dane," the girl managed to whisper.

---

Meanwhile, in a dilapidated office within an abandoned mine on the outskirts of town, a heated argument unfolded. The Frankhoff brothers were facing off against lawyer Natasha Rushman.

"Mr. Frankhoff, I must insist," Natasha said, her voice steady but firm. "We agreed that you would cease all human trafficking activities before we assist you with that Sentinel. Your actions now are a blatant violation of our agreement."

Anatole shrugged, a dismissive smile on his face. "Lawyer Rushman, it's just business. You want to play nice with the big clients? You'd better sit tight. Otherwise, I can't guarantee your safety."

"Is that a threat?" Natasha challenged, crossing her arms, her demeanor unwavering.

Anthony chuckled darkly. "Just a reminder. And by the way, we'll be hosting a little gathering tonight. I'd love for you to join us for supper."

"Not interested," Natasha shot back, glancing at Vladimir, who had remained silent. "You're confident he'll show up tonight?"

Vladimir nodded, his expression unreadable. "He's only been here twice, both times for our transactions. With the commotion you're causing, I'm sure he won't miss this."

Just then, Natasha's earpiece crackled to life. After a brief conversation, she turned to Vladimir, a serious look on her face. "He's here. It's time to act."

"Where are your men?" Vladimir asked.

"On it," Natasha replied, striding out of the office.

---

High above the quarry, James soared, his senses finely tuned as he locked onto Clarice's location—a low bungalow nestled against the mountainside. The air was thick with tension, and he could sense danger lurking in the shadows.

At the bungalow, a figure appeared in a wheelchair, a familiar smirk on his face. "Sentinel, do you remember me?"

James peered down, recognition not dawning. The man's expression soured. "You took my legs! Tonight, I'll repay that humiliation tenfold!"

"Let the kids go," James commanded, his voice steady. "I won't hesitate to take you down."

The man grinned, revealing a remote control. "You think you're in charge? I can blow up this entire place and take them all with me!"

James calculated his options. He could rush the man and risk triggering the detonator, or he could wait for the right moment. The stakes were too high.

"Take off your armor," the man taunted. "Let me see who's hiding behind that mask."

Reluctantly, James complied, the armor retracting to reveal his face.

As soon as he did, the doors around the building swung open, revealing armed goons, all pointing their weapons at him—their intentions clear. A sniper's scope glinted from a distant hill, aimed squarely at him.

"Welcome to your end, Sentinel!" the man in the wheelchair shouted. "Fire!"

Bullets and grenades rained down, but as the chaos erupted, a figure darted through the smoke. James moved with lightning speed, disarming attackers and evading bullets with precise movements.

The explosion lit up the night, but in the midst of it all, he seized the wheelchair man, twisting his wrist until he dropped the remote.

Before anyone could react, James vanished into the night, leaving behind only the echoes of destruction.