Andrew floated in the air, his entire body gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen.
His eyes—once human, now filled with the weight of countless killings—shone with a chilling indifference that made one's heart tremble.
At this point, in Andrew's mind, humanity was no longer the same species as him.
He had transcended mankind—risen above it.
"Where should I begin my next slaughter?"
Silence.
Then, a voice echoed in his mind—the low, calm tone of the Dark God's Son.
"For now, you don't need to continue the killing. There's something else you must do."
"Find the last inheritor. Claim his power. Once you possess that final inheritance, you will step fully into the realm of the Transcendent First-Class—and then, Andrew, you will become the sole ruler of this world."
A fierce red gleam flashed in Andrew's eyes.
"So… you're finally not stopping me."
He had long wanted to eliminate the last inheritor—his so-called good brother, Matt.
But the voice in his head had held him back. Out of reverence for the Dark Son, Andrew had suppressed his desire for that final fragment of power.
"I wasn't stopping you before," the Dark Son replied evenly. "At that time, devouring the last inheritance wouldn't have been enough to trigger your full transformation. But now… you are just one step away from transcendence. The timing is perfect."
Andrew grinned coldly. "Good."
A deafening boom erupted beneath his feet as shockwaves blasted outward, and he vanished into the clouds like a silver bullet.
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
Ivanka moved quickly, relaying the newest intelligence to her nation's leadership.
Inside the White House, the highest-ranking officials once again gathered for an emergency meeting.
"Gentlemen," the President said solemnly, "you've all read Ivanka's proposal. Any objections?"
"No objections."
"Agreed."
"I support it."
Not a single voice of dissent.
In fact, the decision passed faster than anyone expected—almost unanimously.
After all, they were afraid.
Afraid of what a true Transcendent could do.
Sure, they still had nuclear weapons. But nukes weren't toys they could casually launch—especially not when Andrew spent most of his time flying over densely populated cities.
Dropping a nuclear warhead downtown would erase hundreds of thousands—maybe millions—of civilians in an instant.
Could they do it? Perhaps.
But whoever gave that order would never walk away clean. Even a national leader would be forced to resign—or worse.
These men were the kind who ruled millions of lives. They had long grown used to the comfort of power. None of them wanted to lose it.
Now there was a new plan—one that didn't require sacrifice, didn't risk their authority.
And if this plan could bring a true god to Earth… who knew? They might even receive divine blessings themselves—perhaps even transcendence.
The thought alone made several of them breathe faster, their eyes glinting with greedy hope.
But one official, a balding man, finally spoke up.
"That monster isn't stupid. He won't just sit by and let us build faith to summon a god."
The President smiled for the first time in days—a calm, almost confident smile.
"Of course not. But we have our own trump card."
"Trump card?"
Even Ivanka's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
What else could possibly stand against a transcendent being like Andrew?
Nukes were risky enough. What other ace could he mean?
Clap clap.
The President clapped twice.
The door opened.
A young man stepped inside—white, barely more than a teenager.
Seeing him, Ivanka froze. Her eyes widened.
"You… it's you!"
She turned to the President, half speechless.
So that's where he'd gone. She'd been searching for him for weeks, with no trace—he'd vanished off the map.
And all along, the President had been hiding him.
The newcomer was none other than Matt, Andrew's cousin—the last of the three inheritors.
The same boy who, according to the Apostle's divine prophecy, was destined to stand against Andrew in the final confrontation.
The President gestured to him.
Matt nodded and stepped forward, introducing himself with quiet confidence.
"Gentlemen, I'm Matt—the cousin of the Destroyer, Andrew. I'm also one of the three who received transcendent inheritance."
All eyes turned to him—some filled with awe, some with envy, others with naked greed.
"Can this young man really fight the Destroyer?" one of the officials asked skeptically.
Matt's expression hardened.
"I can't promise victory. But right now… I'm the only one left who can try."
Truth be told, he wasn't confident at all.
His inheritance was stronger than Steve's had been—but compared to Andrew's, it was nothing.
Against Andrew, he didn't stand a chance.
But still—he couldn't back down. Not now.
He was the last transcendent left in the world. If not him, then who?
Somewhere inside him, the stubborn righteousness of a young man still burned bright enough to drown out fear.
The President noticed the flicker of unease in Matt's eyes and smiled.
"Don't worry, Mr. Matt. That monster is terrifying, yes—but you won't be going in unarmed."
He clapped again.
A section of the floor opened with a hiss.
A platform rose from below, carrying a sleek, silver suit of armor—modern, elegant, gleaming with cold light.
"This," the President declared proudly, "is the T8 Exosuit—our most advanced piece of technology. Once you wear it, your defense will rival nuclear resilience. With it, you'll have a fighting chance against that monster."
Matt's tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
He trusted his country. And he hadn't expected their technology to reach such heights.
He ran a hand reverently along the armor's chestplate, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"If that's the case, then we're not hopeless after all."
No man could resist the allure of something like this—a suit that looked straight out of Iron Man.
But Ivanka frowned.
Something didn't feel right.
As someone who directly served the Apostle of Light, her authority within the nation was almost equal to the President's.
If such cutting-edge tech truly existed, she would've known about it long ago.
And if they could build one—why not make dozens? With a fleet of such suits, they could fight Andrew head-on!
Her instincts screamed: This armor isn't what it seems.
She glanced at the President.
He was already watching her—with a faint, unreadable expression.
When their eyes met, he gave a subtle shake of his head… then a tiny nod.
The gesture said everything.
He understood her suspicion—and confirmed it, wordlessly.
Ivanka's pupils dilated in shock. Then, slowly, she turned her gaze back to Matt.
Her beautiful eyes softened—filled with something faint but unmistakable.
Pity.
The prophecy had foretold it long ago. Matt was destined to die at Andrew's hands.
And now, looking at him—brimming with naive courage, standing proudly before them all—Ivanka could no longer bear to meet his eyes.
She lowered her head, hiding the sorrow that clouded her gaze.