The Guardian chosen by the Moon

Since my vision on the frozen lake, a week had passed.

A week of searching, wandering, trying to understand what was happening. Pitch Black was here. And if I knew it, it was because I had felt it in every fiber of my being.

But where? Why was he staying hidden? And most importantly… what was he planning to do in a world that had never known his terrors?

I had decided not to sit idly by. There had to be a trace of him somewhere. So, I traveled the world, gliding on the wind, crossing continents in a single night. I flew over cities, watching the shadows, looking for a clue.

But nothing. Not a single anomaly.

I had even tried to sense the nightmares of children, hoping to perceive his presence through their fears. But most of the bad dreams I encountered were just ordinary nightmares—products of an overactive child's imagination or everyday fears. Nothing that resembled Pitch's work.

Then, one night, as I was flying over Tokyo, I heard a whisper. A muffled cry, drowned out by the chaos of the city.

"Help me…"

I stopped instantly. It wasn't a physical voice but rather a sensation, a vibration from afar. I focused, letting the wind carry me to the source of the signal.

Destination: England.

I landed on the outskirts of London, on the roof of an old school. The lights were out, but in a nearby alley, I heard the soft sobbing of a child.

A young boy, curled up against a wall, tears streaming down his face.

Around him, a horde of nightmares was taking shape. Shadowy horses with golden eyes galloped through the darkness, their hooves leaving no trace on the ground. They fed on the boy's fear, circling around him, whispering silent threats.

I clenched my staff. So, it's true…

With a swift motion, I unleashed a blast of freezing wind that crashed into the horde. The nightmare horses recoiled, neighing with ghostly voices. They regrouped, trying to reform, but I had no intention of giving them the time.

I summoned a miniature storm, freezing the ground beneath them and trapping them one by one in a prison of ice. One of them charged at me, but I spun mid-air, dodging its attack before slamming my staff into its side. It shattered like an illusion dissipating.

A few minutes later, there was nothing left. Just me, the child, and a heavy silence.

I knelt before him. "You okay, kid?"

He sniffled, lifting his red, swollen eyes. "Who… who are you?"

I gave him a reassuring smile. "Just a friend watching over you. Those nightmares won't come back."

The boy nodded, still trembling but less afraid. I was relieved… but also frustrated. These creatures were proof that Pitch was here. But there were no clues, no leads. Just shadows that disappeared whenever I approached.

I couldn't stop there. So, I continued my search. From city to city, country to country. Every time I sensed the fear of a child, I intervened—not just against nightmares but also against real-world horrors.

In Paris, I stopped a group of kids from bullying another boy. I didn't even need to show myself. I simply used a gust of wind to snatch the phone of one of them, recording their actions before posting the video online. Then, I sent a sharp blast of cold air at their backs, making them flee in terror.

In Lyon, I heard the sobs of a child in an apartment. Slipping in through the window, I found a boy being beaten by his own father. The man, drunk, raised his hand to strike again. Before he could, I knocked him out with a freezing gust of wind and dragged him to the nearest police station. When officers found him unconscious at their doorstep, I whispered to the child, promising he'd never have to endure that again.

With every encounter, every intervention, my power grew slightly. As if the mere fact that children believed in me made me stronger.

But despite everything… I still couldn't find any trace of Pitch.

My frustration grew. No matter how much I searched, I was running in circles. I needed help.

But from who?

The Ancient One? No way. She might know everything, but her cryptic wisdom irritated me. She'd just give me a riddle instead of an actual answer.

SHIELD? Not a chance. Too bureaucratic, too corrupt. Should I help Captain America fight Hydra when I had the chance? Maybe… but for now, it wasn't my priority.

No, I needed someone who could actually help me find Pitch.

Someone with access to every database in the world at the snap of a finger.

Tony Stark.

Or more specifically… J.A.R.V.I.S.

The plan was clear. But there was just one problem—where was Tony Stark?

I was currently in Lyon, France. Not exactly close.

I slipped into a 24-hour media library, invisible to the adults, and used the computers. Thanks to social media and news outlets, I quickly found my answer.

Latest confirmed sighting of Iron Man: Avengers Tower, New York.

A grin spread across my face. "Alright, Iron Man. Get ready for a surprise visit."

I stepped out of the building and let the wind carry me.

Destination locked.

This time, I hoped I would finally get some answers.