C38 Dying Threats

C38 Dying Threats

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The once-chaotic battlefield seemed to freeze for a moment as Corvus's gaze shifted to Proxima's fallen, bloodied form, his eyes widening as he caught sight of his own spear sticking out of her back. The silence was heavy, loaded with an impending storm of emotions as he rushed to her side, his every move showcasing the turmoil within.

Peter, standing over the body, lightsaber still in hand, watched as the scene unfolded. The fight had drained him, sweat and dirt marking his features.

Corvus knelt beside Proxima, his remaining hand reaching out to gently cup her face, an action so tender and loving, completely opposite to his initial malicious behavior. "Proxima..." His voice was a whisper, a mix of disbelief and anguish, as if speaking louder might confirm the irreversible truth of her death.

At that moment, the depth of their relationship was laid bare, a connection forged not by blood but by choice, their loyalty to each other transcending the titles bestowed upon them by their father, Thanos.

Though they called themselves Thanos's children, they were not, in fact, related in any way, shape, or form. Their bond was one of choice, a deep, intimate connection that transcended their allegiance to their warlord father.

In other words, they were lovers...

Their love story, twisted and tangled as it may have been, was filled with tender moments and carnal passion, yet it had come to a sudden and horrific end today.

As Corvus's hands, so often used to inflict pain and suffering, now cradled Proxima's face with a gentleness that contradicted his fearsome reputation, around them, the battle seemed to hold its breath, even the winds pausing in respect for the moment of grief.

Proxima's eyes, once filled with the ferocity of a warrior, now stared emptily at the sky, her last expression one of shock and betrayal.

Peter, with his resolve firm and adrenaline still surging, experienced a fleeting moment of discomfort. He had not initiated this conflict and bore no regrets for his actions. However, seeing Corvus's alien face twisted in grief was certainly unsettling.

"..." Upon witnessing this scene, Peter came to understand that even heinous, evil individuals, much like Thanos's devoted minions, are not devoid of personal relationships. There exist individuals in their lives, perhaps family or friends, who, despite everything, would feel the impact of their loss and mourn their absence.

'Thankfully, they're both pieces of trash, so I don't have to feel too bad...' Peter concluded.

"Nah, I'm good..." Peter replied and with a deft move, he parried to the left, the clash of metal and energy sparking in the night. "I like my life, so I'll have to pass..."

But Corvus was relentless, spinning swiftly to bring his spear in a wide arc aimed at Peter's head. Peter ducked, feeling the whoosh of air as the weapon missed by mere inches, trimming his hair in the process.

Seizing the moment, Peter countered with a swift upward slash aimed at his opponent's midsection. Corvus, anticipating the move, stepped back, narrowly avoiding the blade. But as he did, Yoda appeared beside him like a wraith, his lightsaber slicing through the air towards Corvus's arm.

Corvus, reacting with surprising speed, managed to twist away from Yoda's attack, but not completely. Yoda's blade grazed his arm, leaving a searing line of pain in its wake. "Aargh!" With a roar of frustration, Corvus swung his spear towards Yoda, intending to take the Jedi Master down with a single, powerful blow.

But Yoda was no easy target. He leaped high into the air, somersaulting over the spear and landing gracefully behind Corvus. And before Corvus could turn to face him, Peter was on him again, lightsaber swinging in a precise, horizontal slash aimed at Corvus's knees.

Corvus leaped backward, evading Peter's strike, but this movement put him directly in Yoda's path once again. With surprising speed for his age, Yoda launched himself at Corvus, his lightsaber aimed at the grieving lover's exposed side. Corvus barely raised his spear in time to block, the impact sending shockwaves through his arm.

The battle raged on, each combatant locked in a deadly ballet of strike and counter-strike. Corvus fought with the desperation of a cornered, wild beast, his spear a deadly extension of his will. But against Peter's cunning and Yoda's mastery of the Force, he found himself increasingly on the defensive.

Peter, sensing an opening, feinted a strike toward Corvus's head, prompting a hasty, upward block. But the move was a ruse, allowing Yoda to close in unnoticed. With a fluid motion, Yoda's lightsaber found its mark, slicing cleanly through Corvus's defenses and severing his arm at the shoulder.

"Aaagghh-" Corvus's scream of agony was cut short as Peter, now in perfect sync with Yoda, delivered a decisive strike, his lightsaber severing his other arm, causing Corvus to drop his weapon, completely unarmed... both literally and figuratively.

As Corvus collapsed to his knees, disarmed and defeated, his gaze turned to Proxima's unmoving figure. He knew he would soon follow after her, feeling an odd sense of peace as Peter and Yoda appeared beside him, lightsabers at the ready.

Together, they plunged their blades into his chest, the extreme heat cooking his body from the inside out. The battlefield, once chaotic with the clash of wills and weapons, fell into a heavy silence, punctuated only by Corvus's labored, final breaths.

As the lightsabers pierced him, Corvus's face twisted not in pain, but in a grotesque smile. With the last of his strength, he laughed in their faces, a sound both chilling and ominous. "The Mad Titan... will avenge us," he gasped, blood frothing at his lips. "Your world... will burn..." he foretold, his only regret was that he wouldn't be there to watch it happen.

With those final words, the light faded from Corvus Glaive's eyes, his body going limp as it slumped to the ground. And simultaneously, the Jedi guards finished off the last of the Chitauri, bringing the chaotic battlefield into a state of peace.

Peter and Yoda deactivated their lightsabers, the weight of Corvus's dying prophecy hanging heavy in the air. They exchanged a glance, a silent, foreboding feeling shared between them.

'Maybe I should leave the Jedi earlier than I initially planned...?' Peter thought, ready to escape within the hour if it meant avoiding Thanos's wrath.

A/N: 1726 words :)