Three days later, the sky split open.
Mark was sitting in class, enduring the hypnotic torture of trigonometry. On the podium, the teacher scratched formulas across the blackboard with squeaking chalk, but Mark's thoughts had long since drifted away, replaying the calm, unwavering words of that black-haired man over and over in his head.
Smart Atoms. Infinite potential. A gift from his mother.
Those words had rooted themselves in his heart like mysterious incantations. He desperately wanted to grab his father and demand answers, but every time the words reached his lips, the memory of that night closed around his throat.
The cold scrutiny that had flashed through his father's eyes—it hadn't looked like a father looking at his son. It had looked like someone evaluating a weapon.
That gaze still sent chills down his spine.
Suddenly, the light outside dimmed, as though a solar eclipse had arrived early.
Mark abruptly looked up.
A jagged purple rift had appeared out of nowhere across the blue sky, crackling with ominous lightning around its edges. The tear looked like the gaping maw of some monstrous beast, being violently ripped wider and wider from within by an unseen force.
"What is that?!"
"The sky's breaking apart!"
Screams instantly shattered the classroom's calm. Panic spread like a plague.
Without the slightest hesitation, Mark shot up from his seat. He was no longer the high school student struggling through math class. Instinct overrode everything else.
With a loud crash, he burst through the third-floor window and streaked into the sky like a blur.
His yellow-and-black suit covered his body as he accelerated upward at incredible speed, rocketing straight toward the wound in the heavens.
The next second, countless ships poured out of the rift like a swarm of locusts—more than ten times the number from before. Every vessel was wrapped in a shimmering blue energy shield, radiating an aura far more advanced and dangerous than during the last invasion.
The Flaxans.
They had returned—and this time, they had come prepared.
That man's warning exploded through Mark's mind:
Next time, they'll bring weapons designed specifically to counter you.
Mark took a deep breath and pushed his speed to the limit, charging toward the nearest ship. His fist, carrying overwhelming force, slammed into the blue shield.
BZZZZT—!
The barrier rippled violently with rings of energy, but instead of shattering instantly as expected, it held.
A massive recoil force traveled up his arm, making his bones go numb.
Mark's heart sank.
Last time, one punch had been enough to punch straight through. Now it had actually blocked him.
With a furious roar, he unleashed a barrage of punches. Only on the third strike did the shield finally crack apart with a sharp snap.
The hatch slid open, and over a dozen heavily armed Flaxan soldiers rushed out. Their armor was bulkier than before, and their weapons had been upgraded from energy rifles to massive-caliber energy cannons.
Most striking of all, every one of them wore an ancient-looking golden ring around their wrist.
There was no time to think.
Mark dove straight into the enemy formation. His fists howled through the air as he smashed one soldier's breastplate inward, sending the alien flying like a broken kite.
But at the same moment, three blazing energy beams struck Mark squarely in the back.
Pain exploded through him.
Not the mosquito-bite annoyance from last time—this felt like being lashed with red-hot iron rods, agony drilling straight into his bones.
Grinding his teeth, Mark forced himself onward, but he quickly noticed something even worse.
Last time, thanks to the time-flow difference between worlds, he had moved like a phantom to the Flaxans—an untouchable blur they couldn't even perceive.
But now, although the soldiers were still slower than him, they no longer looked frozen in place.
They could react.
Their eyes could track him.
Mark's heart slowly sank.
He pushed himself to maximum speed, turning into a streak of light weaving through the battlefield.
Yet those soldiers still managed to keep up—barely.
Their movements were stiff and sluggish, but still fast enough to raise their cannons, intercept his path, and predict his trajectory.
The massive difference in time flow…
…was gone.
Mark's eyes locked onto the golden rings on their wrists.
Without question, those things were responsible.
BOOM!
An energy blast exploded near his shoulder, the shockwave hurling him backward. Three soldiers instantly flanked him from different angles, their cannon muzzles locked onto his head.
Mark twisted violently in midair to dodge the fatal shot, but another blast tore through his thigh.
Blood sprayed out, instantly staining part of his suit crimson.
Since becoming a superhero, this was the first time he had bled this much.
More and more warships continued pouring from the rift, the enormous fleet nearly blotting out the sky itself.
Mark glanced upward—and his heart turned cold.
At least a hundred ships.
There was no way he could fight them all alone.
Where was his father?
Where was he?!
Mark frantically scanned the battlefield and finally spotted the familiar yet strangely distant figure above the clouds.
Nolan.
His father.
Omni-Man.
Arms crossed, he floated silently in the sky, gazing down upon the battlefield with near-total indifference.
He wasn't helping.
Why?
Mark couldn't understand.
The enemy had already reached Earth's doorstep. Civilians were screaming throughout the city. Why was his father doing nothing?
His thoughts were interrupted by incoming fire as another wave of soldiers charged fearlessly toward him.
Mark had no choice but to keep fighting.
But as his injuries accumulated and blood loss worsened, his movements grew slower and slower.
At that moment, the largest flagship opened, and a Flaxan officer emerged.
His armor was far more ornate than that of ordinary soldiers, and embedded in his chest was a fist-sized purple gem pulsing with sinister light.
The officer looked down arrogantly at the blood-covered, exhausted Mark and let out a harsh laugh.
"Protector of Earth?" he mocked in clumsy English. "A half-breed Viltrumite mongrel."
"Your planet is weak. Resistance will only bring destruction. Surrender now, and we may grant you a quicker death."
Mark spat out a mouthful of blood, his gaze stubborn.
"That's what you said last time too."
"Last time, we were unprepared."
The officer smugly raised his wrist, displaying the golden ring.
"Time Synchronizer. A gift designed specifically for species like yours that rely on speed advantages. Within this field, your greatest weapon no longer exists."
Mark's heart completely dropped.
Speed had always been his greatest trump card.
Without it, all he had left was strength and durability beyond normal beings.
But against endless enemies and weapons designed specifically to counter him, brute force suddenly felt pitifully inadequate.
With a disdainful wave of his hand, the officer gave the order.
A dozen soldiers simultaneously raised their cannons.
Energy beams formed a deadly net from all directions.
Mark dodged desperately, but his injured body felt unbearably heavy. Several beams still pierced through him.
The impact sent him tumbling through the air like a rag doll before he crashed violently onto the roof of a skyscraper.
BOOOOM!
The concrete rooftop caved inward, forming a massive crater.
Mark lay at the bottom, every inch of muscle and bone screaming in agony.
He struggled to stand, but his legs trembled weakly beneath him.
The officer slowly descended, hovering above the crater and looking at him as though he were a dying insect.
"So this is all you're capable of? The glory of the Viltrum Empire?"
"How pathetic."
Mark clenched his teeth hard enough to crack them. Using one arm against the shattered rooftop, he forced himself up inch by inch.
"I… haven't lost yet."
"You already have."
The officer raised his hand, gathering a sphere of purple energy radiating destructive power.
"Goodbye, mongrel."
The energy sphere screamed toward him.
Mark tried to move.
But his heavily wounded body no longer obeyed him.
He could only watch helplessly as the ball of death rapidly expanded in his vision.
At the critical moment, a red-and-blue blur descended from the sky like divine judgment, instantly shattering the purple energy blast.
Nolan.
He had finally moved.
But he merely hovered between Mark and the officer without attacking further.
Then he turned around and looked directly at his battered son with deep, unreadable eyes.
"Get up."
Nolan's voice was utterly cold, devoid of emotion.
"Use your own strength."
Mark froze.
What… did his father mean?
Ignoring the Flaxan officer entirely, Nolan's gaze pierced into Mark like a blade.
"That man said you possess infinite potential."
"Now prove it to me."
That man?
Mark's thoughts spiraled into chaos.
His father was talking about the black-haired man?
He knew about him?
The officer finally lost patience. He condensed another energy sphere—larger and more terrifying than before.
"If you insist on being a spectator," he sneered, "then enjoy the show!"
The energy sphere shot toward Mark once more.
This time, no one would save him.
As he stared at the approaching orb of death, a surge of fury and unwillingness erupted from the deepest part of Mark's soul.
He didn't want to die.
There was still so much left undone. So many things left unsaid to his mother.
He still didn't truly understand what was happening to him.
He absolutely could not die here!
As if responding to his will, something inside his body ignited.
Countless tiny sparks burst into flames within his bloodstream. Every cell in his body screamed, tore itself apart, and hungered for one thing—
Evolution.
Smart Atoms.
That man had said they were the source of Viltrumite power.
Under the extreme pressure of near death, they would divide wildly and force rapid evolution.
Mark didn't know if it was true.
But right now, it was his only hope.
He closed his eyes.
Instead of resisting the unbearable turmoil raging inside him, he opened his arms and embraced it.
Instantly, pain hundreds of times worse than anything he had ever experienced swept through his body.
His bones shattered inch by inch.
His muscles ripped apart strand by strand.
It felt as though his organs were being crushed and reconstructed by an invisible hand.
Yet amidst the overwhelming agony, an unprecedented, boundless power surged from every newborn cell within him.
The energy sphere struck him directly.
The deafening explosion swallowed everything. Thick smoke engulfed the rooftop.
"It's over," the officer declared smugly.
The next second, his smile froze.
The smoke slowly cleared.
A figure still stood at the center of the explosion.
Mark's suit was torn to shreds, but the horrific wounds covering his body were healing at visible speed.
His eyes blazed with brilliant golden light.
An overwhelming pressure far greater than before radiated from him.
"Impossible…" the officer subconsciously stepped back.
Mark said nothing.
He simply raised his fist.
Then he vanished.
The officer's pupils contracted violently. Before he could react, a fist burning with golden light slammed squarely into his chestplate.
CRACK—!
The ornate armor shattered instantly. The purple gem exploded into countless fragments.
The officer's body shot backward like a cannon shell, flying ten times faster than he had arrived. He tore through three massive warships before exploding into a burst of fire in space.
Every surrounding Flaxan soldier stared in stunned disbelief.
Slowly, Mark turned his head.
His golden eyes swept across them all.
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