Max Strange’s hands crackled with green fire as he glared at the gang of ten who were jumping in one of their own. “Let him go!”
“Back off mutie!” One of them yelled as they all drew weapons. “None of your damn business!”
Max smiled as he raised his hands and slapped them together. “Sons of Wakanda!”
An energy wave shot out hitting all the gang with a pulse of green. Then before each one of them, forming from nothingness, appeared a ghostly lime panther. In unison the ethereal beasts roared and the gang turned tail to flee. Down the alley and into the night they ran with the panthers in close pursuit. Max walked slowly towards the man lying on his back.
“Are you okay?”
“Didn’t need your help!” The man yelled, who was actually more of a boy. “Now they’re going to think I’m a snitch! Thanks for ruining my life.”
“You’d join a gang that beat you up?” Max asked. “That doesn’t sound friendly, or even sensible.”
“Leave me alone, white boy!”
Max was taken aback. “So you’d rather I let you get kicked in the head?”
“Didn’t ask for your help, don’t need your help!” He yelled as he stormed away in the other direction. Max conjured forth some sparkly lights that danced between his fingers like spaghetti slime and he flung a strand at the departing boy. The blue tendril wrapped secretly around his ankle then faded away.
“I think you might,” Max said as he engaged the Cloak of Levitation and soared up to the clouds as a blue light pulsed on his index finger, tracking the young man’s movements.
Mangog’s eyes slowly flickered open as the waking enchantment danced across his s\brow. “Who dares summon the being of a billion times of hate?”
Floating before the god killer was Darkchylde aka Katerina Rasputina. She was the infernal daughter of Ilyana Rasputina and the demon N’Astirh. She was rightful ruler of Limbo and wielder of the sword Nightsoul. Her raven hair whipped in the wind as she hovered over the bound rage beast.
“I am Darkchylde, and your new master,” she commanded.
“Ha! I serve no one!”
“Well, that is going to change!” Darkchylde’s eyes flared with hellfire as she began to cast a spell.
Max Strange floated invisibly and intangibly into the small apartment of Dravyen Brown, the man he was following. He’d magically gleaned knowledge about him, as well as doing some old fashioned online stalking. Max watched Drayven push his meagre furniture against the door and get a gun out from under his mattress.
Max cast a spell of protection over the entire block and turned himself visible, taking a seat in the kitchen. Drayven turned, screamed at the intruder and opened fire. From the barrel of the gun flew bubble seahorses.
“What the^%&#!” Drayven looked at the floating creatures.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Max said.
“How’d you get in?” Drayven yelled. “Actually I don’t care, just get out! Ok?”
“I’m here to help,” Max told him and gestured for him to sit down, then thought about how much like his father he was sounding and acting. “Drayven, can we talk?”
“How you know my name?”
“Magic,” Max smiled. “Look, I came here to make sure you’re alright and to apologise for interfering in your life.”
“Good, great, thanks, get out!” Drayven pointed at the door.
“Really?” Drayven shouted. “My friends are going to come here and KILL ME thanks to you! You turned my whole world against me!”
Max nodded. “Which is why I’m here to fix that.”
“I could turn back time,” Max suggested. “A simple reversal spell might do it.”
“What the hell are you talking about, fool!”
Max stood up. “My name is Max Strange, I’m this dimensions Sorcerer Supreme. I do magic.”
“Like rabbits and $%#!?”
Max laughed. “Sometimes. Look Drayven, I came to make amends.”
Drayven looked Max up and down. “Those tigers in the alley.”
“The Sons of Wakanda spell, yes.”
“That holograms or something?”
Max shook his head. “No, that’s magic. Do you drink coffee?”
Max waved his hands and enveloped them both in a whirlwind of yellow. “You ever been to Russia, Drayven?”