Chapter Text
New York City’s skyline glittered in the golden haze of the late afternoon sun. Some parts of the streets still bore scars from the recent events, the recent battles. The skyline pocked with glass shards, scorched asphalt, and the faint hum of lingering cosmic energy. Johnny hovered above the city, his flames trailing like a comet’s tail, taking a rare moment to breathe.
After everything that had happened with Galactus—the world had been… you could say recovering. At least everyone was saved. Everyone.
Flying was freedom— and Johnny hadn’t felt this free in weeks. The wind tugged, the city hummed below, and for a moment, he felt like the fire itself. The air smelled faintly of ozone and burnt metal, remnants of cosmic storms long passed. Far below, the people of New York were already rebuilding, horns blaring, life roaring defiantly through the city that refused to sleep. Even from the sky, Johnny could see the streaks of new steel being welded onto old bones, the stubborn pulse of survival that never faded.
Yeah, he thought, that’s New York for you. Indestructible.
However, the peace was interrupted when his earpiece crackled. Reed’s calm, precise voice cut through the wind.
“Johnny, keep the heat output under two thousand degrees! We’re still stabilizing the Quantum Rift Detector. One misstep and—“
“Relax,” Johnny replied, laid back, twisting himself upside down midair. “Just a little sun flare. No dimensional implosions today, I promise.”
Reed sighed through the comm. Johnny smirked and shot a streak of golden fire, traveling through the skies.
Though he was blissfully unaware that another fire—far older, far stranger—was stirring far, far away.
Across space and reality was the molten heart of the Ember Realm. Fire Spirit Cookie pressed his staff into the scorched ground. Around him, the Infernal Ember pulsed like a living heart. This ritual wasn’t for glory.
It was for survival.
The Ember Realm was a storm of molten rivers and burning skies. Mountains of black glass rose like teeth from a sea of lava, and every gust of wind carried sparks instead of dust. Above, constellations blazed in ember patterns, shifting like living runes. Even the shadows shimmered red, alive with heat and the pulse of something ancient — the world itself breathing in fire.
Shadow Milk Cookie, the creeping embodiment of deceit, had grown stronger. If the eternal flame himself could channel the Ember through a dimensional ritual, he might weaken the deceitful beast enough to give them a fighting chance.
Wind Archer Cookie swooped in, arrows of wind sparking as he landed beside him.
“Fire Spirit, stop! This ritual is too unstable! You might destroy more than a portal— you might annihilate entire worlds!”
“I have no choice.” Fire Spirit’s flames flickered with urgency. “This Shadow Milk guy, along with his beastly buddies, are getting stronger. If I don’t act now, Earthbread will fall.”
“There’s always a choice!” Wind Archer shot back, notching a glowing arrow. “We can fight him, together!”
At the mention of that name, a ripple of darkness slithered across the sky. The ground cracked open, leaking oily shadows that hissed when they touched the firelight. Shadow Milk Cookie emerged from the fissure — his eyes, his smug expression glowing like twin voids.
“Still clinging to the light, Fire Spirit?” he sneered, his voice echoing like a whisper through smoke. “Your fire cannot burn what does not live.”
Wind Archer drew his bow, unleashing a gale that sliced through the creeping blackness. The winds coiled around Fire Spirit’s circle, trying to keep the darkness at bay.
“Then I’ll burn what remains!” Fire Spirit roared, thrusting his staff into the heart of the rune circle.
The ground convulsed. A beam of crimson fire shot into the sky, punching through the clouds and into the fabric of reality itself. The heavens split.
Wind Archer stumbled back, shielding his face as sparks of molten energy rained around him.
“You’re tearing it apart! Fire Spirit, stop!”
But it was too late.
The ritual surged past control. The fire expanded, swirling with impossible brilliance. Lightning streaked through the flames—white, red, gold—and within the storm’s heart, a portal formed.
The wind screamed, pulling everything toward it.
“FIRE SPIRIT!” Wind Archer lunged forward, grabbing his friend’s arm. The pull was too strong. Dust and embers whipped around them in a cyclone of light.
Fire Spirit Cookie looked up at him, eyes blazing yet calm.
“Tell the others…” he said, voice steady even as the air bent around him. “Tell them I did it.”
“No—!” Wind Archer’s voice broke. His grip tightened, wings trembling against the pull. “You can’t leave us like this— not again!”
Fire Spirit met his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the raging fire reflected something softer — regret. “If the flame dies, it’s meant to light another world.”
The portal’s pull grew stronger, their hands slipping apart as molten wind roared between them. Fire Spirit slammed his staff into the ground one last time, unleashing the final surge of power.
The flames exploded outward in a wave of blinding light. Shadow Milk staggered back, his form cracking and hissing under the radiant fire. He screamed as his dark aura shattered, retreating into the shadows. The corruption receded — weakened, but not destroyed.
And then, the fire imploded.
With a roar that shook the valley, Fire Spirit Cookie was yanked upward into the vortex, his figure swallowed by flame and light.
Wind Archer fell to his knees as the portal collapsed into a shower of dying embers. The valley was silent except for the whisper of wind through the ashes.
“Foolish, flame…” he whispered, staring at the faint scorch mark where his friend had stood. “What have you done?”
Through the cracks of reality, the fire tumbled — not burning, but dreaming. It streaked past stars, through frozen voids, through the thin veil of one universe into another. The flame sought a world still young, still alive — still willing to burn.
Meanwhile, in New York City…
The skies began as a shimmer— a strange heat haze that made the skyscrapers waver like reflections in boiling water. Then, all at once, the clouds ripped apart in a flash of molten gold. A column of fire speared down from the heavens, brighter than lightning, heavier than thunder.
Johnny, still soaring through the city, flinched at the sudden burst. His flames rippled with interference, sparks dancing erratically around him.
“Uh… Reed?” He tapped his comm. “You seeing this?”
Static. Then Reed’s voice came through, tense and clipped. “What did you do?! The sensors just spiked! You’re way over two thousand degrees again!”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “For the record,” his voice dripping with exasperation, “I’m well under two thousand. Maybe your fancy gizmo’s having a meltdown.”
“The readings are consistent,” Reed shot back. “Massive thermal surge— originating near your coordinates. Johnny, are you sure it’s not—“
Looks like something… no, someone shot out of the flaming cloud above Times Square, trailing a spiral of scarlet fire. The being moved fast, cutting across the skyline like a streak of living sunlight.
Johnny froze, staring.
“Uh… okay,” he muttered, “That is definitely not me.”
Below him, windows shattered as the mysterious figure passed— tiny but radiant, leaving molten glass and curling heatwaves in its wake. The air shimmered wherever it flew, and every traffic light flickered out.
Johnny caught a glimpse: a small figure wreathed in fire, its shape humanoid but… not human at all. A cookie-shaped silhouette, eyes burning like twin suns, a staff trailing embers through the air.
“It’s— he’s— tiny?!”
The small figure stopped midair, hovering effortlessly above the city, flames spiraling around him in graceful, deliberate arcs. Fire Spirit Cookie turned, his gaze sharp and ancient, scanning the horizon like a general surveying a battlefield.
“This realm…” he murmured, voice low but resonant, carried by the heat itself. “Why is it so big?” His eyes wandered around.
Johnny’s comm crackled again.
“Johnny, report!” Reed demanded, panicked.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny said, igniting brighter. “We’ve got… some kind of sentient cookie fireball flying through Midtown.”
“A what?”
“You heard me, Stretch!” Johnny grinned, flames flaring in excitement.
Johnny dropped altitude fast, trailing golden embers as he descended into the haze above Times Square. The heat was unreal—steam rose from the asphalt, lights flickered, and car alarms wailed through the chaos.
Tourists screamed and scattered, phones raised as the sky itself seemed to catch fire. A taxi swerved into a lamppost, its driver shouting something in disbelief. News drones hovered shakily, their lenses blurring from the heat. For one terrifying second, everyone thought the world was ending—again.
In the middle of the wreckage stood the being responsible.
Small, radiant, and very much alive.
It wasn’t a meteor.
It wasn’t even human.
The figure straightened, his body glowing like carved amber, his eyes molten gold. Fire streamed from his back like living wings. Sparks flared around his hands, coiling into an ornate staff that pulsed with impossible energy.
Johnny hovered a few feet above the ground, staring in disbelief.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
The little being turned, taking in the chaos of flashing billboards, honking taxis, and towering glass walls. His gaze was pure wonder.
“This dimension…” he said slowly, voice filled with awe. Then, suddenly, he threw back his head and shouted,
“THIS DIMENSION IS—AWEEEEEESOMEEEEE!!!”
Johnny blinked. “It can talk?!”
Fire Spirit Cookie spun around midair, grinning wildly.
“Hey, you!” he called, pointing his staff. “What is this place called?”
“Uh… Times Square?” Johnny replied, still hovering in shock.
“SICK!!! WAHOOOO!!!” Fire Spirit whooped, erupting into a burst of flame as he shot upward, weaving through the towers like a kid on a sugar rush.
People screamed and ducked as his fiery trail spiraled past billboards, melting the edges of giant screens into dripping plastic. The reflection of his light turned every window into a flickering sea of gold.
Johnny groaned. “Reed, you seeing this?!”
Static buzzed in his ear before Reed’s voice thundered through.
“Yes, and you’re not doing anything! Contain it, Johnny, now!”
Johnny huffed, flexing his hands as fire flared around him. “On it, Stretch.”
He shot into the air after the cookie-shaped comet, leaving a blazing streak through the smoke.
“HEY! Stop right there, gingerbread torch!”
Fire Spirit turned midflight, laughing with pure delight.
“You can fly too?! Oh, this is getting fun!”
He accelerated, twisting through the air with effortless grace, leaving loops of flame that shimmered like fireworks. Johnny followed close behind, weaving between skyscrapers, the two of them streaking across Manhattan like twin comets locked in a race.
Below, people stopped to stare— jaws dropped—as waves of heat rolled through the streets. Sirens blared, sprinklers erupted, and a helicopter veered off-course from the turbulence.
Johnny called out, “You’re causing a major heat hazard, cookie! You can’t just light up the whole city!”
“Why not?!” Fire Spirit laughed, flipping upside down as a ring of flame spun around him. “The people here seem to love fire! Look at all those bright lights!”
Johnny groaned again, diving lower. “They’re LEDs!”
Fire Spirit twirled his staff, sending a wave of shimmering heat rippling through the air. “Then I’ll make them burn brighter!”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me—”
Johnny lunged forward, tackling Fire Spirit midair. The two of them spun in a spiral of golden and crimson light, crashing through the reflection of a skyscraper window and out the other side in a storm of sparks and glass.
Reed’s voice crackled desperately in Johnny’s ear.
“Johnny! Contain it! You’re melting—half—of—Midtown—!”
Johnny gritted his teeth, wrestling the smaller figure in midair. “Working on it!”
Fire Spirit flared with power, his flames momentarily engulfing them both in a blinding blaze. The shockwave rippled across the skyline, setting off car alarms for miles.
When the light dimmed, both were floating, facing each other—breathing hard, the night glowing around them in shimmering waves of heat. For a moment, they hovered there—two living flames, reflections dancing off glass towers, smoke curling beneath them.
Then, far away, the clouds pulsed black, a flicker of oily shadow seeping into the sky.
Fire Spirit flared with power, streaking upward in a spiral of golden flame, staff trailing like a comet’s tail. His cape whipped behind him, catching the light in brilliant, fiery arcs.
But then—snap!
The edge of the cape snagged on a neon billboard frame. Fire Spirit yelped, spinning out of control, flames flaring wildly. The backlash of his own energy nearly threw him into a nearby skyscraper.
Johnny reacted instantly. Diving, he caught the little figure mid-fall, flames enveloping them both in a protective cocoon. Sparks bounced off the pavement below, reflecting in the jagged glass of Times Square.
“Got you!” Johnny shouted into his comm, trying to keep both himself and Fire Spirit steady.
“Reed! I’ve got him!!”
Fire Spirit hung in Johnny’s grip, chest glowing unevenly from the backlash, molten light flickering along his staff and cape.