Red Lantern Hulk Novels & Stories

"You can't tell me what she's carrying inside of her?" "Not now." Holland stared at the door with a furrowed brow and moved away from the wall opposite the door. Mergec did the same as an explosive sound, followed by a crashing sound, hit the wall they were standing by a moment ago. They noticed Leonardo, covered in a bright golden light, holding the sword of light as he pierced it into the skeleton's heart. His insignia had changed form to that of a wolf with a crown. Seeing this, Holland chuckled and began walking away. "One down, one to go."

The holoscreens went black. In the sudden dark, the only sensation was the one in my mind. The deep groan of the station’s hull… stopping. The shriek of metal, silenced. Replaced by a new sound—a vast, low, booming hiss, the sound of superheated steam meeting abyssal cold. A sensation of lift. Of being cradled. Then, silence. True silence. The shared link went dead. The emergency lights flickered on. Luther’s screen rebooted. A single line of text appeared, in plain, unflickering white.

He only had two neurotoxin darts left. He aimed—then fired them into the main power panel. The lights died instantly. Darkness swallowed the office, the hall, and hopefully the entire lower level. For a moment, there was nothing but breathing. Confused. Panicked. Angry. The Hammer roared, swinging wildly in the dark, missing Ethan by inches as the agent rolled to the side. The massive man turned away, heading instead toward the mercenaries fleeing for Luca. Ethan pushed himself up, ribs screaming. Now the real race had begun.

They contained lanterns that could break very easily. Walking back to the room he was waiting with the lanterns, I had a feeling of anticipation and nervousness at the same time. Altid had patiently waited— not like he had a choice and, he looked at me with curiosity and caution painted on his face. "What are these?" He asked, looking at the lanterns I brought out from the box. “These ones are not ordinary lanterns,” I said to him. ‘Wherever you put them everyone within a mile radius who is a shapeshifter not from Ghysem will turn to stone.’

For someone who was stuck in the same room as the Lycan King and the Wolf Mother, she did not appear to be in distress. Lyra had thought that Valeria’s magical beasts were her ultimate weapon. Now, she realised maybe they weren’t. “I recognise the lamp,” Julian informed her through their mindlink. “It’s the Black Lantern. It’s an artefact that’s used to source dark power from the netherworld and channel it to its user. A witch found it many centuries ago and used it to create chaos all over the world, not just among werewolves. Fortunately, a Wolf Mother appeared at the time and sealed it. Since then, the lantern disappeared.”

“There it is!” From afar, Zen spotted the flowing paper lanterns. Although the craftsmanship was clumsy, the goblins managed to put together a raft that floated with all the shamans’ staff. The paper lantern was closer to shabbily wrapped torches, but it worked. With the warrior’s help, the gamer reeled his haul in.

And somehow, saying them felt easier than denying them ever had. She smiled through fresh tears before leaning forward and resting her forehead against mine once again. Neither of us noticed the door opening. Logan stepped inside with the Pack Healer behind him. Both of them stopped immediately. The Pack Healer smiled softly before clearing her throat. "My Alpha..." I reluctantly looked up. She approached the bed with another scroll tucked beneath her arm. "The Luna was fortunate." My heart tightened again. "Tell me." "Most of the damage came from smoke inhalation. She also has minor burns along her arm and shoulder, but they aren't severe. She'll need plenty of rest for the next few days."

It had expanded, casting a wide, digital net over the entire Pacific Ocean. Suddenly, the main projector flickered. The global map vanished. It was replaced by a localized, life-sized holographic projection standing directly in the center of our ruined hacker's nest. It wasn't a degraded, dying old man like Founder Silas. It was a figure clad entirely in sleek, pressurized, midnight-blue armor that looked organic, like the carapace of a deep-sea crustacean. The helmet was featureless, save for a single, glowing, horizontal slit of piercing, cold white light.

“I guess turning back isn’t an option anymore.” Dante shot him a sideways glance. “Were you planning to?” “I was considering it.” “Liar.” “I was considering considering it.” Despite the tension, a few guardians chuckled. The laughter was brief. It disappeared the moment the hallway lit itself. One by one, ancient lanterns suspended high above them awakened without flame. Instead of fire, each lantern contained a floating sphere of silver light that pulsed gently like a heartbeat. The enormous corridor stretched endlessly into the distance. Its ceiling was so high that it disappeared into darkness.

Lanterns—burning a harsh, chemical sulfur-yellow—cut halos through the rolling sea mist. "Let the tide turn," Natalia whispered. Her Lycan blood thrummed beneath her skin, an unnatural heat that made the damp, freezing air of the bay feel like a warm caress. "The Sultan expects his tribute from the Eastern provinces. He doesn't expect the wolves at his throat." The corvette shuddered as its wooden prow scraped against the rotting moss of the primary supply pier. The impact was soft—a dull, splintering groan—but to Natalia’s heightened senses, it sounded like a thunderclap.