Red Lantern Hulk Novels & Stories

"They are simply shapeshifters from the south who have infiltrated our pack. That is why they have petrified." He had an 'O' shape registered on his mouth. He could not believe what he was hearing about. The green lanterns had worked, and in a few hours, soldiers and citizens in the capital of Ghysem were watching in amazement. Hundreds of shapeshifters who were petrified and vulnerable because of the lanterns’ light were discovered. Some were soldiers, others were citizens that they had put in the throne room to await the time the underground of the palace would be ready. The South had really meant to infiltrate the capital to easily take over. The soldiers were collected in heaps and burnt

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.

It floated toward the Forgotten Flame. The crystal lantern opened by itself. Not breaking. Blooming. Like a flower. The tiny flame drifted forward. Slowly. Patiently. Until it settled inside. The lantern closed. Its clear crystal now held two lights. The ancient golden path. And the silver-gold flame. The room filled with warmth. Outside, every bridge across the Silent Sea glowed brilliantly. The blue lanterns answered. Far away... I felt the Heart of Lumora pulse. Anara's crystal flower bloomed.

Dominic’s gold-rimmed eyes snapped toward the massive, multi-inch sheets of reinforced acrylic that looked directly out into the dark, underwater depths of the Pacific trench. The white mist and boiling steam from the nuclear strike had finally cleared, but the ocean wasn't dark anymore. Five miles down, in the blackest abyss of the oceanic trench, a massive, rhythmic pulsing light had begun to beat. It wasn't the cold blue energy of the First Lycans, nor was it the golden fire of the Northern line. It was a terrifying, blinding combination of both—a swirling vortex of cosmic purple lightning that shot upward through the water, targeting the bunker.