chapter 69

"Who cares about Mother Moon, Father Moon, and Grandfather Moon? Just tell me—where's that bitch Black Thorfinn?" Clint spat angrily, his white beard quivering with rage.

Thorfinn the Black, better known as Moonstone of the Thunderbolts, had brutally killed Falcon right in front of Hawkeye. That day, the hero fell, and the energy from Moonstone's hands burned Falcon to ash.

For years, Clint had tracked only whispers that Moonstone was hiding somewhere in Canada. He never imagined she'd twist her psychology degree into manipulating wastelanders and leading a cult.

The tumor on the head of one of her followers was proof enough of the gemstone embedded in Moonstone's chest. Its radiation corroded both the wearer and anyone nearby.

"You will not insult our goddess!" cried one of the cultists, her red-rimmed eyes blazing as she aimed a gun at Hawkeye.

Before she could pull the trigger, Adrian lashed out, landing a kick that sent her flying over five meters. She crashed violently against a tree trunk, letting out a piercing scream. The impact twisted her body grotesquely, and the tumor on her head burst, leaking a brown, foul-smelling pus.

"Disgusting. Just as disgusting as your 'goddess,'" Adrian said coldly, spitting on the ground. His piercing gaze radiated contempt.

The woman coughed blood but still clung to her devotion. "No...no...I will...protect her..." she stammered, her voice cracking.

Adrian remained impassive. His strength was immense, enough to crush the metal shell of a Doom robot. Though he had restrained himself, no ordinary person could endure such a blow. The woman's ribs were undoubtedly shattered, puncturing her internal organs. Survival was impossible.

"Anything else you want to ask?" Adrian glanced at Clint, who still seemed tense. They had already confiscated the cultist's map—the only item of value she possessed.

"No. You can't reason with someone that far gone," Clint muttered.

He strung an arrow and released it. The cultist dropped lifeless to the ground. Without another word, Clint turned toward their vehicle.

"Wait, don't get in the car," Adrian said, examining the map. He pointed toward the dense forest ahead. "According to this, the rest of the path is inaccessible to vehicles. Their village is buried deep in the wilderness."

"I thought we were after Zemo?" Punisher, carrying a large bag, approached Adrian and asked quietly, his eyes scanning the woods.

Adrian nodded. "We are. But Moonstone likely has coordinates to Weapon Factory X, where Zemo is hiding."

He explained that years ago, Moonstone had tried to assassinate Baron Zemo over a dispute about spoils. Zemo retaliated by sending a sentry robot to eliminate her, but she had destroyed it instead.

The black box from that robot would hold the coordinates of Zemo's base.

Punisher gave a silent nod and followed Adrian into the forest.

The map, though crudely drawn, was detailed enough to navigate. After about an hour of trekking, they reached a clearing. At the end of a dirt path was a settlement, or rather, its remains.

The once-thriving town was now a collection of dilapidated wooden shacks and crumbling walls, surrounded by ruins.

"There's movement," Clint whispered, straining his enhanced hearing. "I can hear it."

The group veered to higher ground to survey the village from a safer vantage point.

At the center of the village stood a wooden tower, the only structure rising above the decay. At its peak stood an elderly woman clad in loose, ill-fitting tights. Her wrinkled face was marred by a grotesque tumor on her forehead.

But what drew their attention was the oval-shaped gemstone glowing faintly on her chest, wrapped tightly in bandages.

"Black Thorfinn," Clint growled, his teeth clenched as he strung an arrow. But he didn't release it. Not yet.

Beneath the tower, a man knelt before Moonstone, trembling—not with fear, but with overwhelming anticipation.

The area around the tower swarmed with others like him, all bearing tumors, kneeling in reverence.

From somewhere in the village, a loudspeaker crackled to life, amplifying the woman's voice.

The man knelt, shaking with excitement. He was about to receive the "reward" promised by Moonstone. This rare privilege was coveted by the cult.

A blinding white light erupted from the old woman's eyes as she grinned, her decayed teeth on full display. Slowly, she spoke: "You are both our prisoner and our guest. Today, you have earned redemption. Accept the light from my sacred lands, and you shall truly become one of us."

The man's face shone with exhilaration. "Thank you! Thank you! I knew killing those tourists for you was worth it—worth your kindness!"

Her grin widened as she placed her hands on the tumor on his head. Light flared from her palms, bathing the village in a scorching radiance that warped the air with its intensity.

The man screamed with delight, his cries blending with the searing sound of flesh burning. When the light faded, all that remained was a blackened, charred husk kneeling where he had been.

Moonstone leaped gracefully down from the tower, her worshippers scrambling to touch the lingering warmth in the air with their swollen, decayed hands.

"Cultists. Always leaving destruction in their wake," Adrian muttered, shaking his head.

He nudged Clint. "Got any explosive arrows? Aim for the gemstone on her chest."

Clint smirked grimly. "Thought you'd never ask."

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