The sky above the city had become a nightmare.
Fighter jets filled the heavens, their engines screaming as missiles rained down toward the streets below. Explosions tore through the air, shaking buildings and turning the city into chaos.
The Leader looked up—and moved.
In moments, he rose into the sky, his power ripping through the clouds. One by one, the fighter jets were destroyed, reduced to burning debris before they could complete their assault. The sky fell silent again.
But the jets had never been the real threat.
Hidden far away was a fortified site where multiple nuclear warheads were prepared—each one capable of erasing an entire 100-kilometer city without mercy. At the center of them sat a man.
His face was covered in deep scars, twisted so badly that he barely looked human anymore—more like a creature shaped by endless violence.
"Why hasn't the President's order arrived yet?" he asked coldly.
A soldier tried to speak.
A gunshot rang out.
The man lowered his weapon.
"I didn't ask you," he said. "Leave… or I'll tear you apart."
The soldier snapped.
"Because of you, my best friend is dead!" he shouted, firing again and again in blind rage.
It didn't matter.
The scarred man grabbed him by the throat.
"I hate that mark," he said quietly. "That halo above the head. Anyone who bears it deserves death."
He ended the soldier without hesitation.
He turned to the rest.
"Does anyone else have a problem?"
"No…" the soldiers answered, trembling.
✦ Akuma and the Monster ✦
The scene shifted.
Akuma stood before the Monster.
"The time has come," the Monster said. "You must learn who you truly are."
Akuma clenched his fists.
"Then what was that dream?"
The Monster transformed into a human form, impossibly beautiful.
"It was a message from your mother," he said. "But cowards interfered… and twisted the truth."
He stepped closer.
"Your memories were erased. Even those from a year ago. That bastard took everything."
He drew a blade across his own throat—and pulled out a strange pill.
"Eat this."
Akuma swallowed it.
Nothing happened.
Confusion crossed his face.
"I'm sorry," the Monster said.
Pain exploded.
Akuma collapsed as agony tore through his body, as if thousands of needles were piercing him from the inside. His scream never fully escaped his throat.
"This pain is not from destruction," the Monster said calmly.
"It is from returning what was stolen."
The Monster dissolved into dark energy and merged into the halo above Akuma's head.
Darkness surged outward.
✦ The Order ✦
Elsewhere, the scarred man received a message.
He laughed—wildly, uncontrollably.
"Launch three nuclear warheads toward Yukanda," he ordered.
"It spans 300 kilometers. No one survives."
His laughter echoed like madness.
✦ The Leader's Realization ✦
The Leader had already foreseen this.
"The time has come," he said. "To cleanse this world."
He remembered his past battle with Akuma—how fierce it had been, how he had barely won.
"But now," he thought,
"the real monster is waking up."
When Akuma learns what happened to his family…
he will hesitate for nothing.
✦ Nova ✦
In another universe, Nova entered through a dimensional gate.
The moment Akuma crossed her mind, her soul shook with fear.
"Nova!" someone called.
A man named Lucas reached her just in time, steadying her as she collapsed unconscious.
Akuma's Memories ✦
Darkness turned into memory.
Akuma—only seven months old—in his mother's arms.
"My precious son," she whispered.
"One day, the world will bow before you."
Then—four years old—playing with his brother.
Gunfire.
His mother fell.
"Run, Akuma," she said with her last breath.
"You must crush this world beneath your feet."
Chaos.
His brother tried to escape with him—then fell.
"Our sister is still alive," he said. "Run!"
Soldiers arrived.
His brother was killed before his eyes.
Akuma collapsed into darkness.
Later… screams. Cruel laughter. Helplessness.
Akuma woke—but his body wouldn't move.
"Someone… please help…" he cried inside his mind.
The memory shattered.
✦ Final Image ✦
The halo above Akuma's head burned brighter than ever.
Dark energy poured out like a warning.
Not of a battle—
but of the end.