Carl’s squad was frozen with disbelief.
"Fire!" he barked, pointing at Nolan.
But none of them responded.
They looked around, confused, shouting over comms.
"He was right there where the hell did he vanish to?!"
Creel’s pulse spiked. "What the hell did you just do?!"
He lunged like a freight train, his vibranium-enhanced fists aimed at Nolan’s chest.
But Nolan barely moved.
"You clearly haven’t read my file," he said calmly.
The impact echoed like a thunderclap. Carl was sent flying like a wrecking ball through a dozen steel containers, crashing and skidding across the port until he came to a crumpled stop, leaving a trench in his wake.
Nolan dusted his hands.
"Impressive. You didn’t shatter."
Creel groaned and rolled over, dazed but conscious. Vibranium skin was no joke but Nolan could already see the limits of his power. Material mimicry came with weaknesses: temporary transformation, limited composition, and no stacking.
What if he touched an Infinity Stone? Nolan briefly mused. Would he ascend... or implode like Darwin after Shaw’s overload?
Carl forced himself to stand. "You can’t beat vibranium. You’re wasting your time."
Nolan’s expression didn’t change. "Funny. You still lost to a team of regular humans. Pride seems misplaced."
Creel’s face twisted in rage. That defeat was a sore spot—classified, buried, humiliating. How the hell did this guy know?
Before he could strike again, Nolan moved.
Creel didn’t even see it happen.
One moment he was standing. The next, Nolan’s hand was wrapped around his throat—like a vice of steel.
"You’re not as strong as you think," Nolan said.
Then he opened his mouth and exhaled.
A wave of sub-zero air burst forth like a polar storm. The wind alone howled with unnatural ferocity. Ice rapidly overtook Carl’s body, encasing his limbs and spreading across his torso, face, and everything.
In seconds, Carl was sealed in an ice sculpture, eyes wide in frozen terror.
Nolan set the statue down gently.
The Mirror Dimension collapsed around them, time and space folding back to normal.
The port reset the shattered containers whole once more. His sudden reappearance stunned the surrounding troops.
Then they saw the frozen Carl Creel standing next to him.
"Target reacquired! He’s here he’s back!"
Guns rose. Dozens of rifles locked onto Nolan.
Bullets erupted only to freeze in midair.
Suspended by sheer force of will.
"I don’t like being shot at," Nolan said coldly.
His eyes lit up twin beams of radiant heat that surged forth like molten blades.
The laser vision cut through the front line of soldiers like butter.
Screams. Smoke. Blood.
The scent of scorched flesh filled the air. Bodies dropped, bisected. Seagulls fled from the chaos as the beams turned upward—
—and cleaved through helicopters above.
One by one, the choppers ignited, tumbled, and exploded in midair, raining debris across the dockyard.
Fire. Screams. Panic.
Nolan stood in the middle of it all unshaken.
"I’ll take this one back," he said to Max, nodding toward the frozen Creel.
Max saluted. "Yes, sir."
Watching his boss obliterate the battlefield without effort sent a chill through Max. Nolan’s power felt limitless. Divine.
Then Nolan looked to the sky.
"Oh? Tactical missiles?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Let’s return that gift."
Gideon stood in a control room aboard a stealth submarine, watching a tactical nuke launch in real-time
His face lit with cruel satisfaction.
"Got you now, Superman."
This wasn’t a high-yield warhead just a surgical micro-nuke, precise and lethal. Enough to vaporize a superhuman target without leveling a city.
He watched the tracking feed... and froze.
Nolan wasn’t running.
He was flying toward the missile.
The weapon hadn’t even crossed the harbor before Nolan intercepted it.
A golden portal opened before the warhead a circle of light that swallowed the projectile whole.
Behind that portal... was a building every American would recognize.
Gasps exploded from every intelligence channel monitoring the feed.
"He’s not serious... is he?"
"He just redirected the missile to the Pentagon!"
"Abort launch! ABORT! Shut it down NOW!"
Panic erupted in Washington.
If the missile detonated inside the Pentagon, the fallout would be catastrophic, not just physically but symbolically. Every U.S. intelligence agency would be decapitated in one stroke.
Charles’s voice reached Nolan telepathically.
"Nolan. This path... ends in war."
"You think you can stop me?" Nolan replied, eyes still fixed on the portal.
"No. But if you drop that warhead, there will be no turning back. The world will burn, and our kind will burn with it."
He just stared through the portal, watching the most powerful government on Earth spiral into desperation.
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