246 THE FEEDING
[Inside the command ship of Silver city]
"How is the Super Soldier?" General Ryjer demanded.
"He's recuperating inside the regeneration chamber," Captain Zoluse replied. "His body—and his armor—have sustained severe damage. It will take time before he can return to peak condition."
Ryjer clenched his jaw.
"Who the hell is this Black Halo? How can he injure a Rank 6A Super Soldier and walk away without a scratch? Is he Rank S?"
"We don't know exactly what happened on the ground," Zoluse said carefully. "But the footage shows Sorrow was incapacitated at the final moment. He was struck by psychic interference."
Ryjer's eyes widened."Are you telling me Black Halo is a psychic too?"
"That's one possibility," Zoluse replied. "But it's more likely he's being supported by extremely powerful psychics hiding in the city."
The room fell silent.
Psychics were the bane of Super Soldiers.
No matter how powerful a hero or villain became, their bodies could still be seized, frozen, or shattered by a strong enough mind.
WEE WOO. WEE WOO.
The entire warship shuddered violently as a thunderous impact rippled through the hull.
Sirens erupted.
"Red Alert! Red Alert!"
Ryjer spun toward the command deck. "What is the problem now?!"
"We're under attack, sir!" a lieutenant shouted from the comm station.
Ryjer slammed his fist down."Who the hell is it this time?!"
The lieutenant swallowed.
"It's Black Halo."
"H—How did he locate our command ship?!" Ryjer roared.
"What are your orders, General?" another officer asked.
Ryjer didn't hesitate.
"Summon all remaining warships," he snapped. "We kill Black Halo at any cost."
"But sir," Zoluse protested, "the invasion of the city is already underway. We can't recall all ships without jeopardizing—"
"If we don't eliminate Black Halo," Ryjer cut in coldly, "this invasion will fail. He is the core of the city's defense."
BANG.
Another plasma strike slammed into the ship's force field, sending violent shockwaves through the bridge.
"General," Zoluse said tensely, "our shields won't hold much longer if this continues."
Ryjer's eyes burned with fury.
"Open the hatches," he barked.
"Deploy everything."
He turned toward the viewport, staring into the blazing sky beyond.
"I refuse to believe that thousands of us cannot defeat a single villain."
-----
Damen paused as the sky filled—more than a hundred thousand figures blotting out the clouds. Rank A and B+ heroes, elite soldiers, and floating auto-cannon platforms formed an iron wall in the air.
An army like this would have crushed even the alien forces of Anu.
"You scum…" Damen hissed, Black Halo's voice dry and hoarse through the comm.
"Where were you when Fortress Myrone faced its final stand?!"
There was no answer.
Only the thunder of auto-cannons.
Damen's eyes hardened.
"Then you shall all die."
The Core of Minds ignited.
His perception stretched—time slowing, trajectories unraveling into lines and probabilities.
Damen dashed through the formation at impossible speed. Bullets, beams, and meta-abilities tore past him, grazing nothing but afterimages as he slipped between them.
Then—
Plasma.
Fired at the perfect instant. At the perfect angles.
Hundreds of plasma beams erupted outward, lancing through the sky. Humans and machines alike were torn apart. Even armored juggernauts collapsed by the dozens.
It was slaughter.
Hundreds fell.
Then thousands.
Damen felt his blue blood boil as his system fed on the dead.
"Drain."
"Drain."
"Drain."
This wasn't just a massacre.
It was a feast.
-----
[Meanwhile on the main command ship]
"General Ryjer," Captain Zoluse reported grimly, "we've lost a massive number of meta-heroes and soldiers to Black Halo. It's… a massacre."
Ryjer slammed his fist into the console.
"How is that even possible?!" he roared. "Even an S-Rank couldn't slaughter my forces this easily!"
"Sir," Zoluse said carefully, "we should consider a retreat. We're taking catastrophic losses. If this continues, all remaining warships will be destroyed. Silver City cannot afford such a loss—"
"Retreat?" Ryjer snarled. "Never."
Zoluse hesitated. "Then… what can we do against Black Halo?"
Ryjer's eyes flickered."What about Sorrow? What's his condition? Deploy him—now."
Zoluse's expression darkened."Sorrow has refused. He won't re-enter combat until he's fully healed. He says he won't sacrifice himself for us."
Ryjer exploded."Damn those bastards from the League of Heroes!"
As the bridge descended into chaos, a calm voice cut through the noise.
"General Ryjer… are you in a bind?"
Ryjer spun around.
"Who the hell are you?!" he shouted. "How did you get onto my bridge?!"
The woman smiled faintly.
"My name is Morana," she said. "How I entered is irrelevant. What matters is this—Godfather sent me."
Ryjer stiffened.
"A psychic… from Godfather?" he barked. "Then why didn't you intervene earlier when we were fighting that supervillain?!"
"I am Godfather's trump card," Morana replied evenly. "I am not deployed unless the situation demands it."
Ryjer clenched his fists.
"And does it demand it now?"
Morana nodded once."Yes. The situation has been deemed… severe."
Suddenly, a lieutenant cried out from the sensors station.
"General! Black Halo is turning away!"
Ryjer blinked."Turning away? Where is he going?!"
"He's stopped attacking our forces," the lieutenant said slowly.
"He's heading toward… the Meat Heaps."
Ryjer stared at the screen."Why?" he demanded.
No one answered.
The bridge fell silent.
-----
But even as the numbers of fallen surged, Damen knew the truth.
It wasn't enough.
The stats he absorbed—the blood, the armor—were insignificant compared to Sorrow. Once the Super Soldier recovered… the tide would turn again.
"I must grow stronger. Fast," Damen muttered.
Then something massive tumbled through the battlefield.
A Meat Heap.
As it fell, a strange idea sparked in his mind.
Damen locked onto it with Connect Vision.
"Drain."
To his shock—the command worked.
The Meat Heap convulsed, its colossal body shuddering as its essence was ripped away. It crashed to its knees, flesh collapsing inward as streams of energy poured into Damen.
Black Halo spread his arms, suspended in the air, welcoming the harvest.
Moments later, Damen checked his stats.
The raw attributes had barely increased.
But the blood stats—
Three thousand.
And the corresponding armor stats.
"…That's far more than I expected," Damen whispered.
At his current rank, blood stats had become brutally difficult to obtain. Even killing Rank C enemies only granted a point.
And yet—
This thing had given him thousands.
"How is it possible?" he wondered. "It's made from ordinary people…with regular stats. How can a Meat Heap offer so much Blue Blood?"
Then the realization struck.
The Meat Heap wasn't ordinary.
It was composed of thousands of Corrosivers—each carrying mutated blood perfectly suited to feed his system.
A slow smile crept across Black Halo's face.
"Whatever the reason," he said coldly,"I need more Meat Heaps."
His gaze shifted.
Another one was falling.
Damen shot toward it, abandoning the main battlefield without hesitation.
The war could wait. His evolution could not.
-----