American Comics: Multiverse of Madness

222. The Eerie Town.

Alex's hand froze mid-air as his ears twitched, picking up a commotion rapidly approaching. Turning around, he saw a large group of townspeople suddenly rushing out, their faces filled with anger as they glared at Alex, seemingly displeased with the unwelcome intruder.

"Who are you? Outsider, you're not welcome here!" 

The leader shouted, raising his handgun. Hearing this, Alex remained unresponsive, silently observing the villagers, curious about the chaotic magic clouding their minds.

On the surface, these people's words, thoughts, and reactions appeared normal. But the eyes are windows to the soul. You can taint someone's mind, but you can't corrupt their spirit. Through the lens of the Shaman's Mask, Alex's Eye could clearly see the fear in the leader's eyes. That part of him, identical to his outer self, was currently trapped within the controlled body.

Strictly speaking, these people could no longer be considered truly human. Their consciousness was trapped within their bodies, as Bruce Banner might put it, "The body's steering wheel is taken over by the Hulk, while the person is locked in the trunk."

"No wonder he's a master at corrupting minds. This is the power of the Darkhold," Alex muttered to himself.

Alex didn't consider these puppets a threat to his life, but he knew that figuring out how to save them wouldn't be easy.

"What are you mumbling about? Get out of here!" 

One by one, the villagers charged forward, with one even getting within three meters of Alex. They wielded various weapons, and Alex even noticed a young boy clutching a kitchen knife.

With a light gesture, Alex removed his top hat, bowing elegantly like a gentleman. His inexplicable action didn't elicit any response because, in the moment his hat was removed, the scene suddenly fell silent.

A massive storm of mental energy swept out, a chilling surge enveloping Alex and freezing the villagers in their tracks. They stood there, frozen like statues, their faces locked in the expressions they had before. It was a bizarre sight.

Alex frowned slightly as he watched Agatha continue to mechanically weave the red thread. Indeed, his newly acquired telepathy from the Shadow King was far from enough to break the Darkhold's magic. Moreover, even controlling the villagers' minds was just barely within his grasp; he couldn't forcibly free them from Baron Mordo's control.

Alex slowly approached one of the villagers, casually selecting a girl who caught his eye, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

In the next instant, the girl, whose expression had been frozen in anger, suddenly responded. She took a deep breath, and her young face was quickly consumed by fear. Upon being freed from control, the girl instinctively wanted to flee, but for some reason, she couldn't feel her body. The only part she could control was her head.

This highlighted the difference between mental energy and magic. While Alex could use telepathy to awaken the girl's consciousness, he couldn't break the dark magic holding her body.

"Run, run away! Get out of here, it's not safe!" 

Realizing she had lost control of her body, the girl frantically urged Alex to flee. Though they had just met, she genuinely didn't want this man to become another "puppet" in the town.

"I know, I'm here to fix that," Alex said with a faint smile, though the mask hid his expression from the girl.

"He's a demon, an unbeatable force. Leave while you still can before he notices you," the girl pleaded, her face full of anxiety.

Through her words, Alex sensed her kindness—a rare quality in the Wasteland, and one that most of the world had lost.

"Actually, he noticed me the moment I entered," 

Alex calmly explained before continuing, "Can you tell me where he is? Wandering around a town built by a wizard will waste a lot of my time and energy."

The girl hesitated briefly but quickly realized that this strangely dressed man seemed to possess his own mystical powers. Perhaps he could really free the town's residents. Without hesitation, the girl replied, "The lord is always in his castle, right at the center of the town. But not just anyone can enter. The lord has placed a powerful magic array at the entrance."

Alex wasn't surprised to hear this. After all, this was Baron Mordo's territory; he would have been more surprised if there were no traps.

The so-called magic array was something Alex was already aware of. It was a lock to open a portal to an alternate dimension. To enter Mordo's inner world, one had to complete the challenge set by the baron. Simply put, to pass through the gate, one had to pay a price—the price set by Baron Mordo was for the intruder to forget the most important memory of their life.

In the comics, Doctor Doom was forced to forget memories of his first magic spell, his journey to hell to reclaim his mother's soul from Mephisto, and his affection for a certain woman, among other cherished memories.

Baron Mordo's tactic was undeniably ruthless. As a master of mental and soul magic, his trap was designed to force intruders to cripple themselves. Memories are crucial. They are the foundation of a sentient being's spirit and soul.

If someone loses a particularly important memory, their personality and everything about them could change drastically. At that point, would they still be themselves?

And if an intruder were unlucky enough to lose a memory they shouldn't, the consequences could be even worse—like a wizard forgetting how to cast spells or an agent forgetting how to fight.

Gazing at the towering castle in the distance, Alex slowly withdrew his gaze and looked at the villagers around him, still paralyzed by the mental storm. He sighed softly.

He couldn't keep using telepathy to suppress the magic. Alex knew that once he stopped, the villagers would fall back under control. Unfortunately, Alex's understanding of mental magic wasn't deep enough to break the magical bonds Baron Mordo had placed on these people. But luckily, when mysticism fails, there's always science to fall back on.

With a slight raise of his hand, a pale green mist began to emanate from his black umbrella, spreading rapidly and engulfing everyone present.

"Breathe it in. This scent is called fear."

....

📢30 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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223. Seeing with Your Eyes.
224. Clearing the Memory.
225. Formatting.
226. The Vessel for the Watcher's Eye.
227. The Death Omen Bird.

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