227. The Death Omen Bird.
227. The Death Omen Bird.
In an instant, countless bizarre creations filled Alex's mind.
The task of finding a suitable vessel for a giant eyeball was quite the fascinating topic. Alex's mind was brimming with various Lovecraftian abominations.
One-eyed aliens, cyclopes, corrupted one-eyed bee queens, mutated one-eyed fishmen—his imagination ran wild with all sorts of strange entities. His thoughts began to drift off course, and Alex couldn't help but shake his head, forcing these fantastical creations out of his mind.
After all, in a world filled with superheroes, such grotesque entities were a bit too avant-garde in terms of aesthetics. Alex believed that if he were to actually create any of the things he imagined, any one of them could easily trigger an Avengers-level event.
This would go completely against his usual desire to keep a low profile. So, while it could be bizarre, it still needed to look somewhat normal on the surface. Finding a vessel for an all-seeing, all-knowing eye offered many possibilities.
As he pondered, a figure clad in a black robe with red clouds suddenly appeared in Alex's mind. From his past life, he vaguely remembered a scene from some anime that featured something similar. Raising his right hand, a ghostly green flame leaped from Alex's fingertips. In the next moment, the basketball-sized observer's eye was also engulfed by the green flames.
As the flames burned, the observer's eye began to twitch involuntarily. Whether it was a trick of the light or not, Agatha thought she saw pain and fear in the eye's gaze!
"It's starting," Alex said softly, while in his mind, he communicated with Miss Minutes about the specific steps to modify the observer's eye. Human calculation would be difficult, but with Miss Minutes, an advanced AI, it became much easier.
The ghostly green flames continued to burn. As the eyeball struggled, sparks flew, and its surface began to undergo drastic changes. Silver fish scales suddenly appeared, covering the back half of the eye. This eerie sight made Agatha's face stiffen. But Alex frowned slightly at this development. With a wave of his hand, the flames intensified.
"This isn't it."
From within the green flames, octopus-like tentacles emerged, oozing with mucus-covered blood clots that began growing on the surface of the eyeball, causing Agatha's eyes to twitch.
"Not this either," Alex waved his hand again.
As sparks flew, the tentacles began to retract. This time, the changes to the eyeball were even more pronounced. Small eyes slowly opened across the surface of the large eyeball, blinking like stars, curiously observing the surroundings.
Under their gaze, Agatha felt as though her soul was trembling, her entire body breaking out in goosebumps.
"Uh, definitely not this…"
Even Alex found this hard to accept. He quickly intensified the flames, enveloping the entire eyeball.
Perhaps due to Alex pouring all his energy into it this time, the large eyeball began to struggle more intensely. It twitched in mid-air, with various grotesque features appearing and disappearing rapidly—Agatha even caught glimpses of mantis arms and butterfly wings.
Finally, under the increasingly abstract magical energy Alex channeled, the eye's struggles gradually weakened. A few burning feathers floated down, and a 'flapping' sound of wings echoed in the air.
Both Alex and Agatha watched intently as, within the flames, a dark-colored bird flapped its wings, beating them against the air.
"Caw—Caw—Caw!"
Three piercing cries rang out as the bird burst from the flames, soaring into the sky and circling above.
Seeing the magical creature he had just created, a hint of joy flashed in Alex's eyes. Through his magical connection with the bird, he began to communicate with the black creature in the sky.
Sensing Alex's summons, the black bird circled once before diving down and landing steadily on Alex's shoulder. Indeed, since his codename was 'Raven,' it made sense that his summoned creature should also be a raven. Moreover, this was a raven with the observer's eye, making it, in a sense, a true "Death Omen Bird."
Watching how the raven was so affectionate toward Alex, Agatha couldn't help but take two steps back.
She hadn't forgotten what this seemingly harmless raven had been just moments before. Who knew what unspeakable things the dark wizard had stuffed into the bird's body? What terrified Agatha the most was that she couldn't see through this raven at all.
Whatever was hidden inside this raven's body, it had now become completely inscrutable. To others, it would just look like an ordinary raven—nothing more.
Having no desire to stay here any longer, Agatha turned and left without a word. She had completed Alex's request and had no intention of staying in this place any longer. She didn't even bother saying goodbye to Alex. To her, any connection with someone as mysterious and unknown as Alex was best kept to a minimum.
Agatha's departure did not escape Alex's notice, but he didn't make any move to stop her. While Agatha might be one of the last remaining high-level combatants in the wasteland, Alex had more important matters to attend to.
With a slight smile, Alex gently stroked the raven's smooth feathers and spoke softly.
"Death Omen Bird, show me your abilities. Tell me, where has that rat hidden?"
Elsewhere.
In the shadowy crevices of reality, Baron Mordo was in a dire state.
Without the magical red string Agatha had woven for him, his body was now subjected to the ravages of time. Without the help of magic, the time he had once rejected now returned to claim him.
"No! It shouldn't be like this!"
Baron Mordo, in agony, knocked over a bookshelf. On it were some of the last remaining records of magic in the wasteland.
In the past, Baron Mordo had handled these items with great care, treating them as priceless treasures. But now, he could no longer afford such caution. He struggled to his feet, taking one painful step after another toward the Darkhold.
He knew that the only thing that could save him now was the Darkhold. If he couldn't cast a spell to stop the time descending upon him, it wouldn't be long before he turned into a feeble old man.
Strands of white hair began to sprout on Baron Mordo's head. In an instant, he went from a strong man in his forties to a frail, elderly man covered in wrinkles. Even his battle armor had grown loose.
But he didn't care anymore. With the Darkhold almost within his grasp, Baron Mordo's eyes burned with desperation as he slowly reached out to the cursed tome. However, another hand moved faster.
A purple portal suddenly appeared, and a gloved hand shot out, snatching the Darkhold just before Baron Mordo could reach it.
....
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228. The Stagnation of Magic.
229. Bullseye's Log – Part Three.
230. Fisk Lake City.
231. The Meeting.
232. Black Canary and Hawkeye.