As the battle between the Newcomers and the Metropolis erupted, the eyes of the world became fixated on their clash.
The war between superhumans far exceeded the imagination of ordinary people.
Both the Newcomers and the Tomorrow's Sons of the Metropolis suffered heavy casualties. Even those once considered invincible found that, in this war, their abilities could do little more than ensure their own survival.
As the war progressed, it became increasingly evident that Heaven was at a disadvantage.
They indeed possessed a staggering number of superhumans.
However, they lacked the technological prowess to compete with the Metropolis.
Sometimes, all it takes is a single feather to tip the scales.
And the Metropolis' advanced technology was that feather.
Against the Tomorrow's Sons, who were equipped with superior weaponry, the Newcomers stood no chance.
They were mercilessly slaughtered.
Screams of agony filled the air.
"Aahhh—!"
"No!"
"Help!!"
As these desperate cries echoed in Zuo Zong's ears, the powerful leader could no longer bear it.
It wasn't just the pain of watching his people being massacred—he was the one who had led them here. The weight of that decision bore down on him.
The night sky was already ablaze with black flames.
Zuo Zong could no longer stand by and watch his people die.
But the battle had already been overwhelmingly dominated by the Tomorrow's Sons. Even if he wanted to issue a retreat order, it was too late.
He could even see the Creator standing in the heart of the Metropolis, smirking at him with a look of mockery.
Zuo Zong could not endure it any longer.
He removed his mask.
Meanwhile, in the United States…
The U.S. government had been watching the battle unfold, and they were thrilled.
Perhaps this was their chance to reclaim their dominance over the world!
Given the state of the two warring factions, now was undoubtedly the perfect time to strike.
The U.S. President did not hesitate for a second. To him, anyone who still hesitated at this moment was the biggest fool on Earth.
With a single order, every nuclear weapon in the United States was activated simultaneously.
Their target: the Metropolis in Europe.
In the U.S. government, every official was eagerly anticipating the good news.
After all, these were nuclear weapons—the most powerful weapons humanity had ever created.
Unless those superhumans had reached the level where they could withstand a direct nuclear explosion, there was no doubt about the outcome.
"We're going to need champagne for this!" the U.S. President declared, ordering his staff to bring in a bottle.
Glasses were poured for everyone present.
The President raised his glass first, and his cabinet members immediately followed suit, standing and lifting their glasses in unison.
At that very moment, U.S. nuclear missiles were speeding toward the Metropolis.
Zuo Zong, having removed his mask, revealed a face devoid of any features—one that was now swelling and expanding.
"For our imminent victory! Cheers!"
In the champagne glasses of the U.S. officials, golden liquid shimmered with tiny bubbles rising and bursting at the surface.
At the same time, the nuclear warheads reached Europe.
In a devastating combination, Zuo Zong sacrificed himself to create a black hole, amplifying the destructive power of the nuclear strike against the Metropolis.
As the U.S. officials took their celebratory sips, the golden liquid seemed to take on a different hue—one eerily red.
Then—
"BOOM!!!"
The explosion was cataclysmic.
The massive mushroom cloud that erupted far surpassed any nuclear test in human history.
The accompanying electromagnetic pulse swept across the region, disabling all surrounding electronic systems.
Even the United States' own homeland was affected by the blast.
Yet, to the officials in the White House, these consequences were insignificant compared to the euphoria of reclaiming their dominance.
In fact, the U.S. President, having finished his champagne, was already preparing to summon his staff and deliver a triumphant speech at the Capitol.
After all, after achieving such a monumental victory, how could he not announce it to the world?
Just as everyone was preparing to follow the President to the Capitol, he suddenly stopped one of his cabinet members.
The Secretary of Energy.
"Go check on the wind power situation in Tennessee. You don't need to come with us this time," the President said, leaving behind only these words before departing the White House.
The other cabinet members nodded at him as if he had been entrusted with some highly important mission.
But the Secretary of Energy was already used to this.
As someone who had merely been placed in his position to fill a seat, how could he ever be considered an equal among these people?
He was just a disposable pawn, someone who could be cast aside at any moment.
Especially in the whirlpool of power, few truly regarded others as friends or confidants.
The only person one could ever truly trust was oneself.
Fortunately, the distance between America and Europe meant that the impact on them remained minimal.
So far, nothing had disrupted America's command system.
The only things affected were civilian electronics.
Following the President's orders, some people had already gathered at the Capitol, waiting for his instructions.
But none of them had ever questioned whether the metropolis had truly been destroyed.
Their nuclear strike, combined with Zuo Zong's black hole, had indeed inflicted significant damage on the Children of Tomorrow.
But that was only from the perspective of the Children of Tomorrow.
In reality, only about 20% of the metropolis had been destroyed.
As a creator who had evolved over a thousand years, he was already immune to the radiation lingering outside.
The same applied to the Children of Tomorrow.
The Creator slowly approached a dying Child of Tomorrow.
Looking at him, the Creator knew that as long as he sent him back to the metropolis, he could undoubtedly be healed.
But that was not the outcome the Creator desired.
Would he simply accept the loss of his men, his energy, and his cultivation devices without retaliation?
Absolutely not.
"My dear child, we have suffered the most malicious attack this world has ever seen. We cannot endure this humiliation in silence—we must avenge your brothers and sisters," the Creator said, kneeling on one knee and grasping the hand of the dying Child of Tomorrow.
His words were sincere, as if every thought was for the well-being of the Children of Tomorrow.
"We need you, my child," the Creator's words seemed to breathe life into the Child of Tomorrow.
But everyone knew this was merely the final burst of energy before death.
"Take this, my child, and show those arrogant American politicians the power of our metropolis!"
At some point, the Creator had taken out a small antimatter bomb.
Yet everyone understood that this tiny device was more than enough to wipe Washington off the map.
The fading Child of Tomorrow nodded and then vanished.
The Creator slowly stood up, walking solemnly back toward the metropolis.
But in Hulk's eyes, that man had never shown any true sorrow—only madness.
In the next second, the Child of Tomorrow reappeared—right in the middle of the Capitol, where the politicians had just gathered.
In his hands, the antimatter bomb was slowly activating.
"The metropolis sends its regards."
A violent explosion engulfed all of Washington, D.C.
—Zzzzt—
In the Batcave, Aunt May was listening to the radio—until all transmissions went silent.
Bruce stopped what he was working on.
"The real chaos… is only beginning."
Behind him, a jet-black beast of a vehicle sat quietly, waiting.
(End of Chapter)
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