CHAPTER 3: THE CHINA ENCOUNTER 3

Continuation...

MORINJO

After our wedding, Lauren and I settle into our special seats, positioned slightly apart from the game players and the audience. The contestants sit a few steps ahead of us, their excitement palpable as they await the game's start.

Alexander, the ever-charismatic host, steps forward, gripping a microphone in one hand and a paper in the other. His presence alone commands attention. I glance at the lineup of contestants and spot Liam among them. That should make things interesting.

With a broad grin, Alexander raises the microphone to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're about to play a quick game! And here's the twist—you, the audience, get to help these contestants. But remember—at the end of the game, there will be only one winner."

He pauses dramatically, scanning the crowd like a seasoned showman preparing to unveil a grand spectacle.

"Now, here's how it works. I'll send the players into the audience to retrieve specific items. But while they're gone…" His grin widens mischievously. "I'll remove some chairs! When they return, if they can't find a seat—boom!—they're eliminated!"

A ripple of laughter moves through the audience. Some contestants glance at each other, their previous excitement now tinged with nervousness.

Alexander continues, his voice laced with playful amusement. "Your job, dear audience, is to help them. Or, you know… pretend to help and make things more entertaining."

More laughter erupts. The tension eases, replaced by eager anticipation.

Scanning his paper, Alexander announces, "Alright! First task—go into the audience and bring back a five-dollar bill!"

Immediately, the contestants jump to their feet—

"WAIT!" Alexander throws up a hand, stopping them mid-motion. "Wait. You see, the ladies are faster."

Lisa, a young woman already mid-step, freezes. Alexander turns to her with an exaggerated smirk.

"Easy there, Speedy Gonzales. The five-dollar bill isn't running away."

The audience roars with laughter as Lisa rolls her eyes but chuckles along.

"Alright, ladies, get ready! Audience, be generous… or don't. GO!"

The players launch into the crowd, scattering like contestants in a scavenger hunt. Some people hand over bills instantly; others playfully refuse, reveling in the game's chaos.

Meanwhile, Alexander casually removes a chair.

One by one, the players return, clutching five-dollar bills like prized possessions. But one contestant, a girl in a blue dress, arrives a second too late. She stops, eyes the missing chair, and realizes—she's out.

The room erupts with laughter. Even she laughs, playfully tossing her bill at Alexander as she steps away.

"Fantastic!" Alexander announces. "And just like that, we have our first elimination. Alright, next round—show me those five-dollar bills… good, good. Now—go get someone's *left shoe!*"

Before he even finishes, Lisa bolts toward the crowd again.

"WAIT! Calm down, Usain Bolt!" Alexander calls after her. "What school did you go to? Did they train you for this?"

The audience explodes with laughter as Lisa slows her pace, making an exaggerated effort to act dignified. But the moment Alexander shouts "GO!" she sprints again, nearly tackling a guy for his left shoe.

As the contestants return, clutching mismatched left shoes—some clearly taken by force—another chair disappears. This time, a tall, well-dressed man in a sharp black suit finds himself standing awkwardly without a seat. With a dramatic bow, he accepts his defeat and walks off.

"And then there were fewer!" Alexander grins. "Alright, next round—ladies, find a handsome guy and get his number. Gentlemen, find a single beautiful lady* and do the same. Go!"

Instant chaos. Contestants rush into the crowd. Some confidently hand out their phones, while others face immediate and brutal rejection. The game turns into a frantic flurry of numbers exchanged, awkward rejections, and desperate last-minute attempts.

But just as the players start returning—BOOM.

A massive red portal erupts into existence near the chairs.

Laughter dies instantly, replaced by screams.

The contestants freeze mid-step. One guy drops his phone, his "new girlfriend" completely forgotten. Some players instinctively hit the floor; others scramble backward like soldiers witnessing the start of a battle.

Someone in the audience shouts, "WHO INVITED THE APOCALYPSE?!"

Lauren grips my arm, her fingers tightening. Her eyes widen, mirroring the stunned expressions around us.

Alexander, for once, looks at a complete loss for words. He steps back slowly, microphone hanging loosely in his grip.

"Uh…" His voice is uncertain, barely above a whisper. "This wasn't part of the game."

The contestants who had been fighting over chairs? Yeah, now they're *crawling* away in sheer terror.

And just like that—nobody cares about the game anymore.

A young stranger, a Chinese man, steps out of the portal.

"Morinjo Johnson," the stranger declares. "My name is King Shang Lei. I need you to come with me."

He exudes effortless confidence, standing with sharp features illuminated by the red portal behind him. His jet-black hair is neatly styled yet slightly tousled, giving him a refined but daring edge. His piercing eyes scan the room with quiet intensity, revealing a man who is both observant and in control. His strong jawline and smooth complexion add to his striking presence, making him impossible to ignore.

"...Oh, uh, congratulations on your wedding, by the way."

He is dressed in a luxurious red suit with sleek black and gold accents. The tailored jacket fits him perfectly, emphasizing his lean but athletic build. The intricate gold patterns on his black vest and tie give off an air of sophistication, while the bold red hue of his blazer exudes power and charisma. Every detail of his outfit—from the custom lapel pin to the sharp-cut collar—suggests wealth, taste, and an unshakable sense of style.

In his hand, he casually holds a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling as he moves with controlled ease.

"I'm sorry, are you giving out tickets to something?" I ask as I rise up.

"We need your help. It's not overselling it to say that the fate of the universe is at stake."

"And who's 'we'?"

"Hey, Morinjo."

Another man emerges from the portal.

"Trivium?" I exclaim.

He exudes effortless confidence and charm. His medium-length hair is slightly tousled, giving him a rugged yet refined appearance. The natural waves in his hair frame his face, complementing his strong jawline and high cheekbones. His warm smile, genuine and inviting, reveals a hint of mischief, making him instantly approachable and charismatic.

He is dressed in a casual yet stylish ensemble. A fitted black leather jacket adds an edge to his look, subtly emphasizing his broad shoulders. Underneath, he wears a simple gray t-shirt that clings comfortably to his athletic build, striking the perfect balance between relaxed and polished. His well-fitted blue jeans complete the outfit, slightly faded for a lived-in feel, and are secured with a black leather belt. His overall style is effortlessly cool—minimalistic yet undeniably striking.

He approaches me and gives me a hug.

"It's good to see you again," he says.

"Same here," I reply, admiring his dress. "I love your dress, by the way."

"It's actually not mine, but his," Trivium nods towards the strange Chinese man. He then looks back at me. "You need to come with us, Johnson."

"Okay."

KING'S PALACE

Master Hong moves his hands in deliberate, fluid motions, his voice steady as he casts an ancient spell to illustrate his words.

"At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing. Then—boom—the Big Bang sent ten ancient weapons hurtling across the newborn cosmos. These Infinite Weapons hold unimaginable power, capable of subduing even the Sentry Giants."

He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.

"The weapons are the War Gauntlet, the Alabaster Box, the Amulet, the Fortitude Shield, the Time Stone, the Quiver, the Fortune Helmet, the Modern Cube, Diment, and the Trident."

I absorb this information, my mind racing. "Who's behind this?" I ask.

"Emperor Erebus," Trivium answers darkly. His voice is laced with something between rage and grief. "He's a plague. He invades planets, takes what he wants, and leaves nothing but destruction. The worst part? He wiped out my family—my father, my brother. I barely survived. If it weren't for the Gatekeeper, I wouldn't be here. He scattered my sister and I across different planets just in time."

I push myself up from my seat, but my body betrays me. My heart hammers against my ribcage, a thunderous beat that reverberated through my body, matching the rhythm of my escalating panic.

Shang Lei tilts his head, studying me. "You scared?"

I force a smirk. "No."

"Then why's your heart racing?"

I don't answer. Instead, I refocus. "Alright. What's our timeline?"

"No telling," Trivium says grimly. "Erebus already has two weapons—the War Gauntlet and the Alabaster Box. His forces will be coming for the Amulet next. And not just the Amulet—all of them."

I exhale sharply. "Why? What does he want with them?"

"He's not keeping them for himself," Master Hong explains. "He's gathering them for his master—Goliath. Goliath has assembled ten warriors, each trained to wield an Infinite Weapon. He's preparing for war—against his own family. His father, his mother, his brothers. He wants to destroy them all."

My gaze flicks to Shang Lei. "Who's the Amulet's wielder?"

Shang Lei meets my eyes without hesitation. "I am."

I step toward him, slow and deliberate. "If Erebus needs all ten weapons… why don't we just get rid of this one? Toss it into a black hole. Shred it. Bury it where no one can find it."

Shang Lei's expression hardens. "That's not an option."

I scoff. "Why not?"

"We swore an oath," he says firmly. "We protect the Amulet with our lives."

I shake my head. "Things change."

Shang Lei squares his shoulders. "Not this. The Amulet maybe the best chance we have against Erebus."

The room is heavy with silence. My gut tells me that before long, we'll all be forced to test exactly how much our oaths—and our lives—are worth.

"So, in a way, that might actually be his best shot against us," I say, keeping my voice even.

Shang Lei folds his arms. "Only if we fail to do our jobs."

I smirk. "And what exactly is your job? Besides making balloon animals?"

His glare is sharp enough to cut steel. "Protecting reality, jackass."

Trivium steps forward, exasperation written all over his face. "Alright, enough. Can we focus? The fact is—we have the Amulet, and we can protect it. But Samuel Vincent is still out there somewhere, and he has the Time Stone. We need to find him. Now."

I cross my arms, trying to ignore the uneasy weight in my chest. "That's the problem. The Ventures broke up. We're scattered. We're toast."

Trivium blinks. "Broke up? Like… a relationship?"

I sigh. "A week after Samuel's wedding, the President called us in for a meeting about the Washington Accords. Some of us supported it, some opposed it. That divide split the team—including the Agents."

Trivium stares at me like I just told him the world is ending. "And no one thought to tell me?"

I raise an eyebrow. "You left for Ultra Planet right after the wedding. Remember?"

A flicker of realization crosses his face. "Right… That's on me." He exhales sharply, then straightens, his expression hardening. "But listen—I don't care if the Ventures are broken. If Erebus shows up, he'll do whatever it takes to get the Amulet and the Time Stone. We don't have time to dwell on the past. We need to move."

I hold his gaze. He has no idea what happened after Samuel's wedding, no idea what that confrontation cost us. My hesitation lingers for a second too long, my eyes flicking between him, Shang Lei, and Fang.

I scoff and pull out my phone to call Samuel. But the moment my fingers wrap around it, something shifts. A deep, crawling unease tightens around my chest, like a warning I can't quite place. I freeze, focusing, listening.

Then I hear it.

A low, distant rumble. Faint at first, but growing.

I turn sharply to Trivium, Shang Lei, and Master Hong. "Did you hear that?"

Master Hong narrows his eyes. "Yes."

Shang Lei steps toward the palace entrance, rolling his shoulders. "Let's move."

I grab his arm, stopping him. "Wait."

His sharp gaze snaps to me. "What?"

"Trivium and I will check it out. You stay here with the Amulet."

Shang Lei huffs, his eyes flashing. "I am a king. I've faced wars, disasters, and worse. I do not cower behind walls."

Without waiting for a response, he strides out of the palace.

I exchange a glance with Trivium and Master Hong. Then, without another word, we follow him into the unknown.

A few meters outside the palace, I see the villagers sprinting toward us in a panic. Their faces are twisted with fear, their movements desperate. A child stumbles, hitting the ground hard. Just as I reach to help, his mother rushes in, dragging him up without stopping.

"Wait! What's going on?" I call out, but they keep running.

Shang Lei lifts an old man who has collapsed in the chaos. "So your so-called Erebus is here?" he asks, his tone sharp.

"We haven't met before, wizard," I reply.

"The name is Epic Sorcerer, not wizard. How many times have I warned you?" he corrects, falling in step behind me.

"Once." I glance left and spot a young man on the ground. "Trivium, help that guy!"

"Got it!" Trivium responds, sprinting over.

Then I see it—an enormous craft looming in the sky, blocking out the sun. "What the hell is that, Finder?"

"The ship of Emperor Erebus," Path Finder answers from within me, his voice like a whisper in my head. "His assistants are here."

I turn to Shang Lei. "Whatever happens, do not use the Amulet!"

"I'm sorry, Mister. Might wanna use it."

The air grows violent. Wind howls through the village, kicking up dust, paper, and baskets, sending them tumbling through the streets.

We move closer. The alien spaceship hovers silently above—an enormous, disc-shaped craft. Its metallic surface is sleek and smooth, gleaming under the sun. Around its edges, a ring of bright orange and red lights pulse in a hypnotic rhythm.

The ship is the source of the storm.

A sharp electrical buzzing fills the air.

"We need to evacuate the villagers immediately!" Trivium shouts over the wind.

"Shang, hold and return the wind with your magic!"

"On it," Shang Lei responds.

He plants his feet, hands rising in fluid, precise movements.

"Per potestatem Summi Magi, iubeo te, ventus et pulvis, cessa et evanescas!"

"By the power of Sorcerer supreme, I command you, wind and dust to seize and vanish."

Glowing symbols form in the air as his fingers weave the incantation. Energy pulses around his hands, swirling, condensing—then expanding in a silent explosion of force.

Instantly, the wind dies. Dust settles. The village is still again.

"Good job, Sorcerer." Trivium say.

From the center of the spaceship, a brilliant blue beam shoots down, piercing the sky like a pillar of raw energy. The hum of its power vibrates through the air, casting an eerie glow over the land.

As the light fades, figures emerge—strange, unnatural beings standing where the beam touched the ground.

The first one stands tall and imposing, his skin a cold, ashen grey that gives him an eerie, lifeless appearance. His face is sharp and angular, with deep-set eyes that hold an intense, calculating stare. His brow is ridged, adding to his fearsome presence, while his expression remains emotionless, exuding an air of dominance and mystery.

He wears a dark, intricately layered armor that appears both ancient and battle-worn. The textured chest plate is reinforced with overlapping plates, creating a rigid yet flexible design. The shoulders are broad, covered in thick, ridged padding that extends down his arms, adding to his formidable look. His sleeves are wrapped in dark, segmented bands, giving his limbs a structured, armored appearance.

Around his waist, a tight belt secures a flowing, pleated skirt-like lower armor, made of the same dark material, cascading down to his knees. The fabric appears both flexible and durable, built for movement and protection. His legs are covered in form-fitting armor that extends down to his sturdy, reinforced boots, completing his fearsome, battle-ready look.

The second one stands as a towering force of raw power, his massive, red-skinned body sculpted with thick, bulging muscles. His four powerful arms flex with sheer strength, each vein pulsing beneath his tough, battle-worn skin. His broad chest, free of any armor or fabric, reveals a physique built for war, with deep scars etched into his flesh, marking countless battles fought and won.

His face is both fearsome and commanding, with a strong jawline and a thick, ridged brow that shadows his piercing yellow eyes. Small, glowing orbs rest above his main set of eyes, adding to his intimidating, almost otherworldly presence. His expression is calm yet dominant, as if he knows no equal in combat.

His lower body is just as formidable, with thighs as thick as tree trunks and calves sculpted like stone. He wears battle-worn sandals reminiscent of those worn by ancient warriors like Goliath—thick leather straps tightly secured around his feet and ankles, reinforced with metal studs and plates for durability and protection. Every step he takes carries the weight of an unstoppable force, a living war machine forged for battle.

"My God." Shang Lei said

"What? You don't know aliens exist?"

"No, I don't. Who are they?" Shang Lei asked

"Erebus assistants. The short one is Abaddon, and the tall one is Gordon." Trivium replies

To be continued...