A streak of light tore through the skies.
At such impossible speed, Andrew's figure looked less like a man and more like a blazing meteor, ripping across the clouds.
Then—suddenly—he stopped.
Suspended midair, Andrew's crimson eyes locked on a massive holographic screen far below.
On it stood a world-famous public figure—animated, passionate—addressing a massive crowd.
And what he was talking about… was mythology.
He spoke of ancient legends, of gods and divine light—his words twisting from education into indoctrination, guiding the crowd toward belief.
Andrew instantly understood.
He knew exactly what this was.
But the real question was why.
"They're summoning a god,"
the Dark God's Son whispered inside his mind.
"Summoning… a god?" Andrew frowned deeply.
He, more than anyone, understood the nature of power. The more he learned of his own transcendence, the more he feared what true divinity might mean.
He could level armies, erase cities. But a god—a real one—could destroy a world with a mere thought.
"Can mortals really call down such beings?" he asked coldly.
The Dark Son's tone was casual, almost amused.
"Who knows? True gods never look down upon mortals' faith… but if the faith of an entire world burns bright enough, perhaps—even a god might glance this way. It's nothing more than a gamble. The odds of success are lower than winning the lottery."
"Don't overthink it."
Andrew was uneasy—but he trusted the voice.
Their goals were aligned, weren't they?
Surely the Dark Son wouldn't send him to his own death… right?
He was about to reply when his expression suddenly shifted—his senses flaring.
A surge of psychic energy rippled across the horizon.
Andrew's lips curved into a smile.
"Found you."
That unique frequency—he knew it anywhere.
It was his cousin, Matt.
Without hesitation, Andrew blasted forward, a thunderous sonic boom echoing through the clouds as he pursued the psychic signature.
Matt must have realized it too—because his presence suddenly spiked, then darted away at incredible speed.
Andrew only smirked, slowing slightly, toying with his prey.
"Run all you want, cousin. Let's see how long you last."
To him, this was no longer a chase—it was a hunt.
A cat playing with a trapped mouse.
Meanwhile, the world below was changing.
It wasn't just the U.S.—every nation on Earth had joined the same movement, preaching the name of the New God:
Balder, the God of Light.
Andrew's massacres had not been confined to one country.
And faced with a being nearly invincible on their planet, what world leader wouldn't tremble?
Now they had a plan—a way to resist, one that didn't demand they give up power.
Faith was harmless to the powerful. So they embraced it.
With breathtaking speed, the name Balder spread across the world.
At first, only a few believed. But with state-backed campaigns, incentives, and propaganda, faith swelled like a rising tide.
By the time the sun rose again, the entire planet was whispering prayers to the God of Light.
At Lake Manor, Balder suddenly looked up.
Golden radiance shimmered around him, filling the room with sacred brilliance.
From his divine vantage, he could see it: endless waves of faith, rushing toward him like a cosmic ocean.
A smile curved across his face.
"It's time."
"Let the grand finale begin—
the performance that will end this world."
With a thought, Balder's vast consciousness expanded—his mind linking with the boundless flood of human faith pouring through the heavens.
At the same time—
In the skies above a barren canyon, Andrew stopped mid-flight, his gaze narrowing.
"Stopped running, huh?"
He smirked.
"So, you've set a trap for me, cousin?"
But there was no fear in him.
He had transcended humanity—beyond fear, beyond limits.
Even his cousin Matt, gifted though he was, was still just a slightly stronger insect.
Andrew descended slowly, landing in the canyon's heart.
Below him stood Matt—encased in the gleaming T8 Exosuit, waiting silently.
Andrew hovered above him, arms folded, his tone mocking.
"Cousin, are you trying to make me laugh?"
Matt's voice was steady, filled with forced courage.
"Andrew, I won't let you keep killing. This ends today."
In that moment, he looked like a hero—
the last torchbearer of justice.
Andrew burst into laughter—deep, wild, and unrestrained.
He covered his face, laughing until it turned into near-madness.
"You actually made me laugh, Matt. That's a first."
"Now—die!"
He blurred into motion, a streak of metallic light.
Though his powers were rooted in psychic force, Andrew now moved like a warrior god, his body crashing through the air with thunderous force.
Matt roared, slamming a foot into the ground, charging upward to meet him.
BOOM!
The sky itself froze for a heartbeat—then exploded.
Matt's body was sent flying, smashing into the canyon wall.
Andrew sneered.
"That's your confidence? This pathetic strength?"
"Who gave you the courage to challenge me, Matt?"
Laughing, he descended again—and began a brutal, one-sided assault.
Neither of them knew that hundreds of satellites above were broadcasting their battle in real time—every punch, every blast, watched by the world's leaders.
Matt crashed into the ground again, his suit cracking.
He could barely move.
Why… why is he this strong?!
And where was the so-called nuclear-level defense the President had promised?
The armor wasn't enhancing him at all—it was just… heavy. Durable, yes, but already breaking apart under Andrew's relentless strikes.
"This… this can't be nuclear-tier protection…"
Then, a memory surfaced.
The President's voice—calm, solemn—before the mission.
"Matt, you are the world's last hope. Humanity's faith rests on you."
"But… if you can't stop him—activate the suit's true power."
Matt's gaze dropped to the single red button inside the suit.
His heart pounded.
He grit his teeth—then slammed his hand down.
Click.
The exosuit vibrated violently.
Metal cords burst from the armor's joints—thousands of glowing cables shot outward, wrapping around Andrew in an instant.
It happened too fast for even him to react.
Before Andrew could blink, he and Matt were bound together, cocooned in the glowing tangle.
Andrew blinked. Then laughed.
"What is this? A game of house?"
"You tied yourself to me? Are you trying to gift-wrap yourself?"
He smirked.
"In that case, don't blame me for accepting."
He reached out his hand—
And then froze.
Every nerve in his body screamed danger.
A chilling dread tore through his mind.
He looked up.
There, high above the clouds—a black dot streaking downward at impossible speed.
His eyes widened.
"No… NO!!!"
He unleashed his psychic power in a desperate surge, trying to snap the cables holding him down.
At the same moment, Matt followed his gaze—and his face went pale.
It was a nuclear bomb.
The truth struck him like lightning.
This was the exosuit's real purpose—not to protect him, but to hold Andrew in place.
Matt's lips trembled… then he smiled bitterly.
There was no more running.
"Andrew…" he whispered, voice steady again.
"Let's go to hell together."
BOOM.
The world turned white.
A sun was born upon the earth.
Moments later, a colossal mushroom cloud rose into the heavens—
consuming everything in its path, reducing the canyon, the sky, and two transcendent beings to blinding fire.