Retreat and Renewed Fear
The previous attack had gravely wounded Hector, destroying his body and leaving only his tattered head. Even so, he was not dead.
He was like an unkillable alien organism that could survive any attack thrown at him.
It was terrifying!
An atmosphere of dread spread across the street.
The people who had been cheering earlier felt as if they were being strangled, their faces flushed, unable to utter a single word.
People involuntarily backed away, seemingly trying to escape. Carrick looked at Stan Dalov not far away, his eyes questioning. Stan Dalov shook his head bitterly.
Seeing this, Carrick swallowed his resentment and roared the order to retreat.
Since its inception, the Fourth Mechanized Infantry Division had never retreated from a battlefield. This was the first time—a shameful first time.
When the order spread, everyone let out a sigh of relief. They would rather fight the enemy with bayonets on the battlefield than face this kind of entity.
Unkillable, indestructible, with powerful regeneration and eerie, unpredictable telekinesis...
He was simply a devil!
The situation had reached a point where the annihilation operation had completely failed. The next step was to minimize casualties.
As the soldiers evacuated the wounded, Hector did not pursue them. Instead, he watched with keen interest, his eyes showing anticipation, as if waiting for something.
Soon, he felt it.
The fear emanating from the soldiers, a fear sourced from the depths of their souls. This fear was different from that of ordinary people; it was so sweet and pure, like freshly baked cake or sashimi sliced from a living fish.
"You are all mine."
Hector cried out excitedly. Yellow beams of light shot from his eyes. Wherever the light fell, the soldiers froze instantly, their faces twisted and convulsed with deep despair. Their bodies trembled, and yellow particles began to leak out.
"No!"
Stan Dalov's expression changed drastically. "Marlin, stop him! He must not be allowed to swallow those yellow particles!"
Marlin, hiding between the buildings, raised his hands, white light condensing in his palms. Suddenly, the yellow beam swept toward him. The fear in his heart instantly magnified countless times. He screamed, fighting with all his might. His body shook like he was having a seizure. Slowly, yellow particles seeped from his skin. He stood frozen like a statue.
Hector smiled greedily. Whether citizens, soldiers, or powerful metahumans, as long as they harbored fear and were hit by the yellow light, they would become his prey.
Mighty power, invincible power, the power to control everything.
He absolutely loved this ability.
The yellow light swept across the street. Everyone stopped, their faces terrified and motionless, including the struggling Stan Dalov and the earth-controlling metahuman hiding underground.
Yellow particles seeped from their bodies, twinkling like fireflies, covering the entire street in a bright yellow gauze.
Hector opened his mouth, and the yellow particles flowed towards him in torrents.
The Vice President's Call
"It's over!"
In the White House office, the "big shots" watching the battle via drone all closed their eyes, unable to watch what was about to happen.
President Joel Nash's face was tense and incredibly grim. Although he hated the Justice Department and the military and wished them dead, it didn't mean he wanted to see this result.
He was the President, the highest leader of the White House. If the operation failed, no matter how he explained it, the public would blame him, especially since so many elites had died.
The Metahuman Five were the FBI's top combat force, and the 4th ID was the military's ace. If they were all lost here, the government's ability to respond to emergencies would be drastically curtailed, and that was the most terrifying prospect.
Just then, Vice President Dick Cheney's assistant walked in and whispered a few words in his ear. Dick Cheney immediately rose and left the office.
Once outside, he answered his phone and said with a serious tone,
"Luke Shaw?"
"Hello, Mr. Vice President."
Dick Cheney had no time for pleasantries and got straight to the point. "Amanda told me you can deal with Hector Hammond. I want to know if that's true."
"I have conditions."
Dick Cheney's face darkened, and he cursed inwardly, but he had to hold it in. "As long as you can deal with him, I will agree to any condition."
"Mr. Vice President, your word is not entirely reliable. How about this: I'll end this battle first. We can discuss the rest later."
With that, the call was disconnected.
"That damned Asian!"
Dick Cheney cursed angrily. When he returned to the office, he found everyone staring at the screen, or rather, at the urgent message from the weather bureau.
In the cloud-covered sky, a red light appeared. The light quickly grew, turning into a massive, fiercely burning fireball.
"A meteor!"
The people in the room were astonished. Hector's situation hadn't been resolved, and now a meteor was flying in. Was God punishing America?
"Wait!"
"The direction is wrong!"
Someone noticed something and cried out in surprise. "It looks like it's crashing right here!"
The Impact
The meteor arrived.
After several days, Coast City was once again visited by a large, purple-looking meteor, though this one was significantly smaller than the last, only about ten meters across.
The meteor appeared high above, plunging downward at extreme speed. The fireball was so bright and blinding, streaking through layers of dark clouds and leaving a mottled trail of light.
At this moment, not only Hector but also the nearby soldiers and FBI agents were dumbfounded.
A meteor?
Why was there a meteor? And was it heading right here? What was going on? Had God grown tired of Hector's evil and sent down divine punishment?
"FUCK!"
Hector couldn't help but curse loudly. Ignoring the absorption of the yellow particles, he quickly deployed layer upon layer of telekinetic force fields in front of him.
Half a second later.
The meteor tore through the top floor of a building.
BOOM!
A deafening roar erupted. The air was compressed, then transformed into a devastating blast of fire. Everything within a hundred-meter radius vanished. Cars, grass, buildings—everything was sent flying.
A Category 3 hurricane-force wind swept the ground.
Carrick and the others felt a flash of light, and then their vision plunged into darkness. Their bodies were contorted into strange shapes by the impact and were thrown far away along with cars, rocks, and debris.
This impact was dozens of times stronger than the previous one, with a radius of over a thousand meters. Dust flew up, spiraling into small tornados.
The surrounding temperature was extremely high; the ground even showed signs of melting.
After a long while, the dust slowly cleared. The street was gone, replaced by a massive crater over a hundred meters in diameter. Luke, clad in the Phantom Armor, appeared on the edge of the crater, standing side-by-side with Carol in a revealing outfit.
"Wasn't that too big?" Carol asked anxiously.
"Not too big, not too small. Just right."
Carol snapped, "I was talking about the meteor!"
Luke shifted his gaze from her chest and said expressionlessly, "I was talking about the meteor, too."
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