Yongye hovered above the clouds, the gray Wind of Nothingness swirling around him.
It clung to his body, suppressing his presence almost completely. Even the billowing smoke and flames spreading below seemed to part around him, unwilling to touch him.
His gaze pierced the layers of smoke and dust to survey the Metropolis East End streets Doomsday had trampled to pieces. A faint, unhurried smile touched his lips.
Minato Namikaze had turned into a yellow flash and vanished without a trace.
Bone Spikes had pierced Superman, and a kick had sent him into the Ruins. Whether he lived or died was unknown.
Doomsday was advancing through the East End. Each step crushed a building and left a crater in the ground.
Everything was going according to script.
In the global livestream chat, curses erupted like a string of firecrackers.
"Fusang people! Get off Earth!"
"Minato Namikaze is a fraud! He's disgraced the whole great nuclear nation!"
"Strategic retreat? Translation: run away because you can't win!"
"He got Superman killed! There were dozens of people in that building!"
"Where's the Golden Armor God of War? Where's Yongye? Is he dead or not?"
"I refuse to believe the Golden Armor God of War is dead! He must be hiding somewhere, charging up a big move!"
"What big move? Metropolis is almost gone!"
"Come out already! Can anyone stop Doomsday?"
Fusang, Tokyo.
The comments in Fusang's corner of Twitter had become a war zone.
Accounts that had been celebrating the "great nuclear rise" twenty minutes earlier were now being savaged by users worldwide in the harshest language they could muster.
Someone had cut together the highlight of Minato Namikaze launching his Spiral Shuriken and his line about a "strategic retreat," set it to the mournful melody of a traditional Fusang ballad, and titled