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Manhattan.
BOOM!
A thirty-meter wall of fire erupted outward from Jake's position — not ordinary flame, but Pyronite high-temperature plasma. Dark-red light turned the gloomy sky noon-bright. Moisture in the air ceased to exist. Asphalt softened, bubbled, and boiled.
Zombie Captain America charged first. Shield raised — his proud vibranium disc glowing cherry-red under temperatures it was never designed for.
The fire wave hit him.
Rotting flesh vaporized — butter in a furnace. White bone exposed for a fraction of a second before burning to airborne ash. The shield clattered to the melted ground. Its owner simply... wasn't anymore.
Zombie Iron Man fared worse.
The armor became an oven. Rotting flesh inside expanded under extreme heat — a muffled thud as black residue sprayed from suit gaps. Circuits liquefied. The remains crashed into the fire wall and became a pool of boiling molten iron.
No hard-fought battle. No back-and-forth.
Just pure physical transcendence.
A few zombie grunts that survived the outer perimeter lunged at Jake — mouths open, corpse-stench breath, biting down on his arm.
CRACK!
Teeth shattered against dark-red rock at thousands of degrees.
Heatblast was an aggregate of magma and flame. No carbon-based DNA to infect. No blood to contaminate. Against a virus that spread through biological contact, the perfect counter was being not biological.
"Want to bite me?"
A casual wave. The flames on his arm surged. The clinging zombies became charcoal, then ash, then nothing.
Above, Strange — bleeding from every orifice, barely maintaining his sealing circles — looked down.
One look. His bloodshot eyes locked open.
He'd watched these parallel-universe variants tear through defenses. One scratch turned an Avenger into a monster in seconds. He'd thought Earth was finished.
And this kid had just slapped the ground and incinerated them — along with half the street.
On a nearby ruin, Spider-Man hung upside down from a streetlight, mask-covered jaw hanging open.
"God... who IS that? A secret Stark project? No — this firepower is insane! He's a walking incinerator!"
[Doctor Strange — shocked! Emotion Points +8,000!]
[Spider-Man — shocked! Emotion Points +5,000!]
[Neighborhood survivors — shocked! Emotion Points +12,000!]
The system notifications cascaded. These Marvel natives had been genuinely staggered by what amounted to Jake's simplest alien form.
The fire wall shrank and extinguished. The zombie tide that had filled the street — purified into a vast sterile zone. Only crystallized glass remained on the ground where asphalt used to be.
Jake checked the skyrocketing system balance. Reached for the dial—
"ROAR—!!"
Not a mindless groan. Rage. Deep, resonant, echoing from inside the dissipating smoke.
THUD!
The crystallized ground cracked.
THUD!
Heavy as a tank slamming onto pavement.
Jake looked up. The firelight beneath his rock faceplate flickered.
Two giant green palms tore the smoke curtain apart.
A behemoth stepped through — enduring the residual flames by sheer force.
Hulk. But wrong.
Twice normal size. Green skin faded to deathly grey-white. Muscles so swollen from mutation they'd torn through the surface. And growing from his half-jawless face, his shoulders, his spine — thick, sharp bone spurs of grim white, piercing through the muscle like a porcupine built from nightmares.
Mutated Zombie Hulk.
In the chaos, he hadn't burned. He'd fed — devouring the remains of several high-level zombies. The virus had catalyzed a secondary mutation. Bigger. Harder. Angrier. And completely immune to pain.
Plasma fire still burned on his body. Flesh charred and regenerated simultaneously. He didn't notice. Didn't care.
Those cloudy, bloodshot eyes — each one larger than Jake's head — locked on.
"Meat..."
The garbled roar shook the crystallized ground. Mutated Zombie Hulk charged — a collapsing mountain trailing stench and fire.