EPILOGUE – THE WATCHERS IN THE DARK
A PLACE NO ONE WAS MEANT TO FIND
The underground facility was built to last. Thick steel walls. Redundant security systems. No official records.
It had no name. No history. Only a purpose.
Rows of monitors bathed the dark room in an eerie blue glow. Dozens of satellite feeds. Encrypted transmissions. Surveillance logs from across the world.
At the center of it all stood a lone figure—a man in a dark suit, watching, waiting.
A gloved hand rested against the console as he observed the feed in front of him.
On the screen: Naga Man.
Ajit Singh stood on the edge of a skyscraper, wind whipping at his coat, golden energy flickering faintly in the night. A protector of Imphal. A hero, whether he wanted to be or not.
The suited man exhaled slowly. “He has no idea.”
A static-filled voice responded through the speakers. “None of them do.”
CLASSIFIED FILES – RESTRICTED ACCESS
With a keystroke, a series of encrypted files appeared across the monitors, each flashing with a security warning.
PROJECT NAGAKANTA – OBSERVATION LOGS
DATE: REDACTED
WARNING: ENTITY DETECTED
COSMIC WAKE INTERFERENCE CONFIRMED
HALT ALL EXPERIMENTS – UNSTABLE RESPONSE
DO NOT ATTEMPT CONTACT
The man scrolled further. The next file was older. Decades old.
PROJECT NAGAKANTA – RECOVERED TRANSMISSION
“You were fools to dig here.”
“You were never meant to understand it.”
“It sees you now.”
A silence settled over the room.
Then—a new signal flashed across the screen.
LIVE FEED ACQUIRED.
SOURCE: UNKNOWN.
LOCATION: IMPHAL, INDIA.
The suited man straightened. His fingers danced over the keyboard, enhancing the footage.
A GLIMPSE INTO THE VOID
The security feed was grainy, flickering with static.
At first, there was nothing. Just an empty alleyway, the glow of streetlights barely visible through the mist.
Then—a shape.
It moved wrong. Like it wasn’t walking, but gliding.
The figure emerged from the darkness, barely visible, its outline blurred—as if the world itself was rejecting its presence.
A single streetlight flickered overhead.
And for a fraction of a second, the camera feed cleared.
The suited man froze.
The figure in the alley turned its head—as if it could see the camera.
No eyes.
Only darkness, shifting, watching.
The screen glitched.
And then, a whisper—not from the speakers, but from the room itself.
“…you are not ready.”
The lights in the facility flickered. The monitors shut down.
And for the first time in years, the man in the dark suit felt something he had long since buried.
Fear.
IMPHAL – HOURS LATER
Ajit slept fitfully, his body still aching from the battle with Iron Fist. His dreams were uneasy—flashes of something he couldn’t quite grasp.
The glow of the Nagamani pulsed faintly beneath his skin.
Then—he woke up.
Not because of a sound. Not because of movement.
Because for the first time since he had become Naga Man, he felt like something was watching him.
Ajit sat up, his golden tendrils unfurling slightly in the darkness of his room. His senses stretched outward, scanning the quiet city beyond.
Nothing.
And yet…
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
Then, from his bedside table, his phone buzzed.
A message from Rajesh.
Rajesh: “Ajit. You need to come over. Now.”
Rajesh: “I decrypted the last file.”
Rajesh: “Something is coming.”
Ajit stared at the screen, his chest tightening.
He looked out the window, over the city.
For the first time, he had the uneasy feeling that Imphal wasn’t alone in the dark.
Something had seen him.
And it was only a matter of time before it made itself known.
Author’s Comments & Inspiration
“This volume was heavily inspired by the darker transformations of heroes in comic history—particularly Venom from Spider-Man. I wanted to explore what happens when power no longer just enhances a hero, but begins to consume them. The Halāhala corruption is not just a physical change—it’s an internal war between identity and instinct, between protector and predator. Naga Man’s struggle mirrors that of Eddie Brock and Peter Parker when dealing with the symbiote—except in Ajit’s case, the line between hero and monster is even thinner. This volume is about fear—of losing control, of losing oneself, and of what happens when power is no longer yours to wield, but something alive, something waiting. Naga Man is no longer just fighting enemies—he is fighting himself.”
🚀🔥 This is where heroes break. This is where legends are reforged. 🔥🚀
