Power! Dimensions! I Want It All!

Between heaven and earth, all was silent.

The pillar of light slowly drew back, the holy song gradually faded, and the last wisp of golden radiance spun through the air like the afterglow of sunset, falling gently over the devastated city of New York.

Dormammu had vanished.

That enormous face that had blotted out the sky, those flame patterns that drove people to despair, those two eyes blazing like supernovas—they had all disappeared.

All that remained was the slowly dissipating purple-black smoke, and a sky gradually returning to normal.

The survivors stood up from the ruins, crawled out of basements, and poked their heads out from the corners where they had hidden.

They lifted their heads and gazed at the sky as it turned blue again—true blue, not purple-black, not ashen white, but a clear blue rarely seen in decades, like the eyes of an infant.

Someone knelt and kissed the ground.

Someone clung to another person and wailed.

Someone threw their head back and howled, venting fear that had been pent up for far too long.

And at the center of it all—

That young man was still hovering in midair.

His golden eyes were still calm. His cloak still snapped in the wind. His body was still shrouded in a faint, flickering layer of light.

He looked at the fading purple-black smoke, at the cheering crowds, at the superheroes who were looking up with awe written all over their faces—and his expression did not change at all.

Aloof.

Composed.

Everything under control.

But deep in his heart—he was bleeding like crazy.

He had lost out.

Lost so hard he was numb.

An absolute blood loss.

He had spent so long preparing that entrance.

He had made Ghost Rider fight for half the day.

He had made the holy