The Military's Retreat
The key to modern warfare is air superiority. Whoever controls the air controls the direction of the battle.
With five Apache helicopters and two F-16s successively destroyed, air power was gone. All that remained were the ground forces and over two hundred elite soldiers of the Fourth Mechanized Infantry Division.
Hector descended from the sky, hovering ten meters above the ground. His dark yellow eyes darted around, greedy and famished, like a giant lizard choosing its next tasty meal.
Wherever his gaze landed, people's bodies trembled uncontrollably.
"I love you all."
"The Fourth Mechanized Infantry Division, an ace army with countless battle honors. I absolutely love you. You're like a delicious strawberry cake, impossible not to devour in one bite."
"Come on, attack me, unleash your fury, and then transform it into boundless fear."
"I adore your fear."
The hoarse voice echoed through the street, clearly heard by every soldier. A sense of humiliation flared in their hearts. The soldiers gritted their teeth, immensely stifled.
As the Army's ace unit, the 4th ID was always the focal point wherever they went. They had never endured such an insult.
Carrick took off his helmet, threw it on the ground, grabbed his assault rifle, and charged. The other soldiers followed close behind. A torrent of men formed a circular encirclement.
Bullets fired, dense as rain, streaming toward the sky.
The air suddenly became viscous, countless times heavier, like sludge shifting in a marsh.
Hector chuckled and lightly pointed a finger.
Time seemed to pause. All the bullets aimed at him stopped strangely, then reflected back at extreme speed.
Suppressed groans sounded all around.
In just that single action, dozens of soldiers were injured or killed.
In the face of the mighty Hector, the 4th ID, hailed as the Army's best, was a joke.
Carrick refused to accept it. He roared and rushed forward. The next second, he was struck hard in the chest. His knees buckled, and he stumbled, falling to his knees.
Hector floated before him, looking down.
"You're their captain."
"Nothing special, are you?"
His lips curled with intense disdain. He used to envy soldiers; they were often tall and imposing, unlike him—short and ugly, unable to even find a girlfriend. Now?
He chuckled twice, then raised a finger, aiming it at Carrick's head.
Telekinetic power swirled around his fingertip, ready to unleash an invisible impact. Suddenly, a strange sensation came from the side. He instinctively turned his head.
The ground surged. A colossal stone pillar shot out, impossibly thick, and sent him flying.
Hector, mid-air, raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Metahumans? Interesting."
Curious, he was about to see which bold individual dared to interrupt, when the daylight suddenly intensified. A bright white pillar of light shot from a building, enveloping Hector's body. The beam seemed to be compressed daylight, carrying extremely high temperatures. It not only momentarily blinded him but also left large black scorch marks on his body.
At the same time, three figures in tight-fitting suits appeared at the street corner.
Had it not been for the FBI logos on their chests, the terrified soldiers might have mistaken them for enemies.
Stan Dalov said with extreme seriousness,
"We only get one chance."
The other two nodded heavily. Maeve closed her eyes. Her skin turned red, and her body temperature rose rapidly.
The third person's body grew taller, his limbs became incredibly thick, and his muscles bulged. In the blink of an eye, the inconspicuous 1.7-meter man transformed into a giant over 2.5 meters tall.
He grabbed Maeve's ankles, spun her around, and hurled her with all his might into the air.
Stan Dalov took a deep breath, hovering in mid-air. Light radiated from his eyes. His telekinetic power formed a massive hand, which he used to desperately tear at Hector's protective vortex.
The energy gap between the two was vast, like an adult versus a child. Stan Dalov poured all his energy into it, to the point where blood spilled from his mouth, but he could only tear open a gap about one meter wide.
That... was just enough.
With the aid of the giant's super-strength, the rapidly flying Maeve shot through the gap like an arrow, reaching Hector. Her skin had turned deep red, like scorching hot iron, radiating frightening heat.
"Die!"
Maeve roared, wrapping her arms around Hector's body. The heat accumulated in her body instantly erupted.
Boom!
An unimaginable roar came from above. A red dot appeared in the sky. The dot compressed inward, then expanded into a massive fireball over ten meters in diameter.
CRASH!
A heat-blast shockwave swept down from above. The soldiers in the street were all sent flying. Grass burned, water instantly vaporized, and streetlights melted, turning into molten iron that splattered across the liquefied asphalt road.
This level of attack was terrifying, comparable to a small nuclear bomb.
The street was ruined beyond recognition. Two buildings collapsed, turning into rubble. A dust-free zone several dozen meters wide appeared at the center of the explosion.
The Unstoppable Monster
After a long time, the flames slowly subsided.
A naked woman fell from the sky, caught by a giant hand made of rock, and was carried into a nearby building.
Carrick crawled out from under a vehicle with the help of his subordinates, his eyes anxiously fixed on the sky. Many others were doing the same—soldiers, citizens, and the five strongest FBI metahumans all looked up. Even a house cat, startled by the fighting, peeked its head out.
At this time, it was almost 6:00 PM.
The sunset painted the sky and earth red. Coupled with the barely visible distant cape, where the sea and sky met, the sight was breathtakingly beautiful.
"Is he dead?"
"He should be!"
"It's impossible to survive an attack like that."
"That damned bastard! Dead and completely gone, not a single trace left."
"Yes, he's dead."
"He's finally dead."
"Hector Hammond is dead! We won! We won!"
Some people started cheering, jumping up and down, extremely excited. The joyous atmosphere spread, and soon the entire street erupted in celebration.
Only Stan Dalov remained tense, staring intently at the collapsed building in the distance. His teammates noticed something, grasping their heads, their faces full of disbelief.
"No way, f*ck! How is that possible!"
"That was Maeve's maximum energy! That didn't kill him?"
Stan Dalov's face grew increasingly ugly. Sensing the rapidly strengthening telekinetic energy in the ruins, he couldn't help but scream hoarsely,
"Run! Run now! He's alive! He's not dead!"
"Retreat immediately!"
Before his voice faded, chunks of rubble eerily lifted into the air, piece after piece. Soon, the entire debris field, hundreds of stone blocks, was suspended.
Yellow particles leaked from the rubble, lifting Hector's severely damaged half-head into view.
At this moment, the world fell silent.
Carrick clenched his fist, his face showing intense frustration, but deep in his eyes, fear was spreading.
He was afraid. Everyone was afraid. This wasn't a psychological issue; it was a biological instinct displayed when facing absolute power.
Power brings despair, despair breeds fear, and once fear takes root in the mind, it can grow into a towering tree in the blink of an eye.
This was exactly the fear Hector wanted. He fed on fear; fear was his source of strength.
🗒️NOTE:
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/MistaQuartz
Explore up to 20 chapters in advance!