Chapter 49: Missile Storms
The night sky shimmered with an unusual stillness.
Stars hung like frozen sparks, watching the world below with quiet curiosity.
And in that silence, high above the clouds, H.I.M floated — motionless.
The wind whispered past his cloak, brushing against his face as he gazed down at Earth.
Cities glowed like constellations beneath him. Oceans rippled under the moon's silver glow.
He marveled at it all — the fragile beauty of the world he both loved and despised.
For a moment, a rare calm overtook him.
He felt the hum of life below — laughter, prayers, cries, and dreams.
And then… something shifted.
A vibration.
A storm of metal and fire in the distance.
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The Sky Ignites
Far across the ocean, warning sirens blared in Jarapaq.
From satellites orbiting Earth, the flashes were unmistakable.
Hundreds of missiles streaked through the sky like blazing comets — five hundred warheads, launched from U.S. bases, locked on target.
The world trembled.
Governments called it "The Cleansing Operation". They feared that H.I.M's existence had tipped the balance of power, and now they sought to erase every trace of his influence.
Jarapaq, the small nation still recovering from scandal and silence, was the target.
Its people screamed, running through the streets, praying for deliverance.
But before the missiles could descend, a beam of white light tore across the atmosphere — silent, instant, unstoppable.
H.I.M had moved.
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The Hand That Stopped the Storm
He appeared in the skies above Jarapaq, hovering between the missiles and the earth like a living wall of energy.
With a single motion of his hand, time seemed to hesitate.
Missiles froze in midair — suspended between fire and fate.
From the ground, witnesses later said it looked like the stars themselves had paused to breathe.
H.I.M opened his hand, and the deadly swarm began to dissolve into dust.
The metal, the circuits, the warheads — all melted into harmless light that scattered like ashes in the wind.
A storm meant to erase millions was undone in seconds.
But there was no celebration.
No applause.
Because H.I.M's eyes — once symbols of justice — now glowed with something colder, quieter, and far less human.
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The Infiltration
The next moment, he was gone from Jarapaq — and standing in the heart of Washington, D.C.
The night was deep, the city asleep, and the Capitol stood in solemn silence.
He moved unseen through corridors of power.
Computers blinked, alarms wailed, but no one could trace his presence.
When he spoke, it was not loud — but the walls seemed to shiver.
> "You've turned safety into control. Power into fear."
He dismantled weapons not by destruction, but by nullification.
Engines fell silent. Drones collapsed.
Weapons once designed to destroy were now as powerless as scrap metal.
The officials who planned the missile strike were found days later — dazed, unconscious, their memories wiped clean.
No one could explain what happened that night.
But the message was clear: the age of nuclear fear had ended.
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A Night in the Alley
Later that same night, in a quiet corner of Liberty City, H.I.M walked among the shadows.
His eyes, though calm, burned faintly — reflecting every light and sin of the city.
He saw a young woman cornered by a man in a dark alley.
Her cry echoed faintly, desperate.
In a blink, the man froze — his aggression fading into confusion as H.I.M's presence overwhelmed him.
He dropped to his knees, trembling, unable to understand why his body refused to move.
H.I.M stepped forward, his tone low but steady.
> "You still have a choice. Change before it's too late."
The man's mind flashed with memories — of his mother, his youth, his failures. Tears streamed down his face as he fled, the woman collapsing in relief.
H.I.M turned away, his expression unreadable.
Justice or wrath — even he no longer knew what he was becoming.
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The World Divided
By dawn, the entire planet was in chaos.
One hundred nations convened emergency summits.
Some declared H.I.M a savior — a divine protector sent to end the age of violence.
Others labeled him a global threat, too powerful to exist.
News outlets clashed. Prophets spoke.
Some said, "He is Heaven's Hand."
Others whispered, "He is humanity's mirror."
But the truth was simpler and more terrifying:
the line between justice and destruction had begun to blur.
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The Age of Fear and Hope
Those who sought peace clung to faith, believing this being was guiding humanity to a purer world.
But others trembled at what came next.
Strange phenomena began appearing worldwide — electrical storms over oceans, lights hovering above temples, whispers in static frequencies.
And each time, someone claimed they saw H.I.M standing within the lightning, eyes glowing softly, watching but not acting.
It was as if the Earth itself was responding to his presence — as if creation was being rewritten under his silent will.
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The Man Beneath the Storm
In the days that followed, witnesses claimed they saw him standing again upon the cathedral's cross, arms spread, the wind raging around him.
His cloak fluttered like wings against the stormy night.
> "Humanity is fragile," he murmured, "yet they love their destruction."
He closed his eyes, the lightning flashing once more behind him, painting the sky with streaks of silver.
The rain poured harder — as though heaven itself was unsure whether to weep or to wash the world clean.
The storm, people would later say, lasted three days.
And when it ended, the skies were clear.
But the world beneath had changed forever.
H.I.M had become more than legend — he was now the storm itself.
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