Every fighter was incapacitated.
Against the dimensional catastrophe that had just struck, the powers of these so-called superheroes had seemed as insignificant as dust.
Only one person remained standing.
Chu Hang, his back to everyone.
His white clothes were soaked in golden-red blood, but his spine remained straight.
His right hand was still curled as though gripping something.
Spatial cracks lingered at his fingertips, left by his bare-handed destruction of the Inner Universe passage.
Wanda huddled in a corner, clutching the trembling Adam.
Her scarlet eyes were fixed on Chu Hang's back. She had even forgotten to breathe.
Everyone waited.
They waited for him to turn around as he always did, flash that trademark reckless grin, and declare:
"Just the basics. No need to cheer."
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
But Chu Hang did not turn around.
He stood there in silence, his right hand slowly dropping to his side.
His shoulders, broad enough to belong to a god or demon, trembled ever so slightly.
"Everyone..."
His voice was faint, yet it rang through the depths of every soul.
"Enter silent mode."
"Begin repairs... on Target Zero."
Before he could finish giving the order, Chu Hang swayed violently.
"Chu Hang—!!!"
Wanda's scream tore through the silence.
She reached out without thinking, as though she could catch him.
"Pfft—!"
A great cloud of golden-red blood burst from Chu Hang's mouth.
But it was not blood.
It was Source Power refined to its purest extreme.
The cloud burst apart in midair, scattering into countless dazzling motes.
Each time a mote went dark, the space around it shuddered.
The fall of a Dao?
Crack.
A sharp sound followed.
It made everyone's scalp prickle.
Beneath Chu Hang's bloodstained white clothes, countless golden cracks spread like a web growing wild.
They began at his