Chapter 38: The Reckoning Begins (Extended Edition)
The night over Liberty City was torn open by thunder. Lightning flashed across the blackened skyline, illuminating the shattered glass towers and the burning horizon. The city groaned in silence, as if every living thing within it had paused to feel the tension of what was about to unfold.
And in that silence stood H.I.M—no, Hanks Ignatius Marvins.
His dark aura pulsed around him like a living storm, the ground cracking beneath his boots. Across from him, Gina gasped for breath, her legs flailing weakly as she was suspended in midair by invisible tendrils of shadow. Her voice cracked as she managed to whisper through the pain, "Hanks… that's your name, isn't it? Hanks Ignatius Marvins. You were never meant to be this monster."
For a moment—just a single heartbeat—the shadows flickered. His pupils narrowed, his mind flinching at the sound of his full name. The memories that name carried… the man he once was… the soldier, the savior… all buried under years of rage and experiments that turned him into what he had become.
Then, just as quickly, that flicker vanished.
"Don't speak that name," he growled, his voice deep and layered with something unholy. "That man is dead."
The darkness around his hand intensified, choking Gina harder. She coughed, struggling, eyes watering but still unbroken. "No… he's still there. I saw it—the day you saved the orphans at Old Haven. You were Hanks before you were H.I.M. You can still—"
A surge of power silenced her. The air shimmered with black fire.
Then—a beam of golden light tore through the gloom, slicing straight toward H.I.M. The force of it broke his hold on Gina, sending her tumbling to the ground as a figure landed between them with a crack of displaced energy.
John Stellman.
He rose slowly, his trench coat fluttering, his face carved with determination. In his hand gleamed a sword, its surface etched with golden Buddhist runes, faintly humming as though alive.
"Let her go, H.I.M," Stellman said calmly. "Or I'll end this right here."
H.I.M turned, smirking. "Ah, Stellman. The detective who plays monk. Do you really think your little prayers can stop me?"
John didn't answer. He simply stepped forward, his sword raised. "This blade was blessed in the Temples of Satori. It cuts through illusion, evil, and lies. That means you."
H.I.M's grin widened. "Then by all means… show me what the light can do."
He raised his arm—and the shadows behind him erupted like a tidal wave.
The clash was instantaneous.
Steel met darkness. Sparks of gold and violet exploded, tearing through the ruined building. H.I.M moved like a phantom, each strike carrying inhuman strength. John countered, spinning, his sword humming with sacred energy. Each time their weapons collided, a pulse of energy shattered walls and blew dust through the streets.
Then John pivoted—his blade chanting in resonance—and slashed across H.I.M's chest.
A clean strike. A mark of light cut through the darkness.
For the first time in years, H.I.M bled.
He stopped, looking down at the glowing gash in his chest. The black smoke rising from it sizzled against the golden edge of John's sword.
Then, slowly, H.I.M chuckled. "Impressive. You managed to wound me… slightly."
He stepped closer, the smile returning—but now colder. "You think you've achieved something? All you've done is wake me up."
He turned toward Gina, who lay trembling but defiant. "Next time, I won't hesitate."
"Hanks!" Gina shouted, tears streaming. "Don't do this! Please! You can still change—"
He stopped her with a glare that could cut through steel. "That name means nothing to me."
H.I.M turned to John once more. "Sleep with one eye open, detective. You'll need it."
And with that, he vanished—his body dissolving into a swarm of shadow particles that swept away into the night.
John fell to his knees beside Gina, cradling her head gently. "You're safe now. Stay still."
But before he could process what had just happened, the ground beneath them trembled.
A faint vibration grew into heavy footsteps.
A new figure approached through the smoke.
John spun, blade ready. Gina opened her eyes weakly—and gasped.
"Jack…?"
Jack Stellman
stood at the entrance of the alley, drenched in sweat, gun shaking in his hand. His eyes were wild, filled with anger and desperation.
He looked straight at John. "You found him too?"
John nodded grimly. "He's faster now. Stronger."
Jack's grip tightened. "Good. That means it'll be worth it when I finally put him down."
The temperature dropped.
A familiar voice echoed from behind the smoke. "You talk as if you have a choice."
The two men turned—and there he was again. H.I.M, emerging from the dark, smiling with his eyes glowing like molten gold.
The blood from his wound was gone. His aura flared, stretching across the street like a living beast.
Jack raised his gun, breathing hard. "No more running. No more hiding. Tonight—this ends."
H.I.M tilted his head, intrigued. "You really want to dance again, Jack? You've always been my favorite opponent."
He spread his arms, dark tendrils unfurling behind him. "Let's finish this once and for all."
Lightning struck somewhere in the distance as three forces—John the lightbearer, Jack the hunter, and H.I.M the shadowed god—stood at the center of Liberty's storm.
The city itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then—they clashed.
The explosion of power shattered everything in sight.
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