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Chapter 419: You Should Step Forward
Within the vast ocean, many scattered and fleeing Atlanteans still remained.
Thirty nuclear bombs, of course, couldn't have killed all the Atlanteans. These natural-born aquatic lifeforms scattered and fled into the boundless sea.
Numerous Transformers had been awakened by Megatron and were then all thrown into the sea, treated as nothing more than a training exercise. As for how many warriors would be lost, Megatron indicated that he couldn't care less.
Even if a hundred Decepticon soldiers died, if a single warrior with potential emerged, it would be a net gain.
Cruel and cold-blooded, yet fair—this method of elimination was the Decepticon way. Those with skill could not only survive but also kill enemies and earn merit in exchange for more super-energy crystals and the resources and opportunities to upgrade their chassis.
As for the incompetent—whether they were slow-witted or their awakened genes were unsuitable for combat, leading to their deaths—Megatron and the other high-ranking officers wouldn't spare them a second thought.
Only warriors who continuously survived bloody battles and showed constant improvement were the warriors they needed.
They had no need for weaklings.
If it were the Autobot Legion led by Optimus Prime, they would never use such a high-casualty selection method, but the Decepticons led by Megatron did exactly that.
The world's oceans had become the hunting grounds for the Decepticon Legion. Although there were daily instances of Transformers being killed in retaliation by hate-filled Atlanteans, no one cared about those losses.
Even the human factions silently participated in the hunt for the Atlanteans, striking a killing blow the moment they were spotted.
There was no other way; the hatred between the ocean and the Surface World was too great, so great that it bordered on mutual annihilation.
Don't be deceived by those on the surface who brandish the banner of justice. Countless high-ranking humans had died in the sudden tsunamis, and they had long been seething with hatred.
They were even more interested in everything Atlantis had to offer, such as its technology.
And now, the major human factions had no choice but to gather their armies, warily staring at the massive Kryptonian spaceship in the sky. Though panicked and angry, they did not collapse.
Well, with the Chitauri and the Atlanteans setting a precedent, the Human Government felt a bit more confident.
"Order the Avengers to deploy. Right, have the X-Men take action as well."
"S.P.E.A.R. is on high alert."
"Should we contact Kamar-Taj?"
"Are we just supposed to wait for death without that Tony?! We have our own superhuman teams!"
The humans issued their orders one after another, commanding their respective teams.
"Order Constantine to move out," a wealthy magnate commanded in terror, cursing the aliens at the same time.
"...Boss, Con took your money and ran!"
"What about Deadpool? Deathstroke? Contact them! I've hired them many times, I know them well!" the magnate asked, suppressing his anger.
"Mr. Deadpool went to hunt down Constantine, proclaiming he wants half the money. Mr. Deathstroke went to hunt down Deadpool, vowing to kill that scumbag for ruining his reputation, while also demanding the other half of the money."
The magnate's face shifted between red and white before he suddenly clutched his chest, spat out a mouthful of blood, and fell unconscious.
...
On a farm in Kansas.
Clark, wearing a straw hat, returned from his family's cornfield, covered in dust. It was harvest season.
Despite being strong and burly, he hadn't broken a sweat after a whole afternoon of work. If not for the need to cover his tracks, he could have used his super-speed to harvest all the corn in one go.
The moment he got home, General Zod's voice reached his ears, causing Clark to frown, his expression turning even more somber.
He was already feeling uneasy and stifled by the humans and Decepticons fanatically hunting the Atlanteans in the ocean. He wanted to do something, but he couldn't find a reason or an excuse to do so.
All of humanity wished for the annihilation of Atlantis. What could he do?
And now, Zod had arrived.
The consciousness his father had left behind in the spaceship told him to be wary of Zod, not to trust him.
Driven by these first impressions, a sense of helplessness and rage welled up in Clark's heart.
Why? All he ever wanted was a quiet life, fighting criminals and protecting innocent civilians. Why did people always have to show up and cause trouble?
*Knock, knock...*
A knock sounded at the door.
Lois Lane, dressed in professional attire, nervously tugged at the collar of her blouse. She hesitated for a moment before ultimately revealing a hint of the fair skin of her chest, perfectly accentuating her impressive figure.
In the past, she had relied on this to get her way. But now, the person she was visiting was an alien, a man whose secret she had discovered.
Strictly speaking, this was their second meeting. The last time was inside the spaceship at the North Pole. Lois had followed him in and discovered Clark's secret. To facilitate a conversation with his son, the consciousness left by Jor-El had no choice but to pilot the spaceship to the other side of the North Pole, only to be pursued and cornered by Starscream.
Most importantly, humans are social animals. No matter how hard the Kent family tried to hide Clark's uniqueness, something different was bound to be revealed.
For example, his former classmates.
The honest and simple Clark was often beaten up by stronger kids when he was young, but the other children were astonished to find that no matter how hard they hit him, the young Clark was completely unharmed, silently enduring it.
This was especially true after the school bus accident, when a teenage Clark single-handedly pushed the bus out of the river, stunning them all.
If it were just that, Lois might not have paid much attention, as the world had Mutants with all sorts of strange superpowers.
But her old man, General Sam Lane, was the man in charge of the super-soldier project after Ross's death.
Lane had seen Clark's fierce battle with Orm and the others in the Atlantic Ocean via satellite and had taken notice. He carried a photo of it with him, which was subsequently discovered and stolen by his troublesome journalist daughter, who then began to compare, investigate, and conduct interviews.
As if destined by fate, Lois Lane found her way to his doorstep.
But Lois wasn't the only clever one. A massive organization had also come knocking, its director arriving in person to pay Clark a visit.
Several years had passed. Coulson's hairline had receded a bit more, and a few more wrinkles lined his face, but his presence was even stronger.
Gentle yet dignified—that was the perfect way to describe S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Coulson.
He had brought a team of soldiers, monitoring from a few hundred meters away across the cornfield, using listening devices to eavesdrop on Clark and Lois's conversation.
"...You should step forward. You're the hero who saved the Earth! We will all stand by you!"
Lois said emotionally, cornering Clark.
Clark's mother, Martha, was furious. "First, you have the wrong person. My son is just an ordinary human! Second, even if he is some kind of hero, he shouldn't be the one fighting aliens! That's a job for the Avengers! Let the Sorcerer Supreme handle it! Why should my son have to be the one to step up?"
His adoptive mother, Martha, with her graying hair, was emotional, her voice laced with the panic and sorrow of a mother on the verge of losing her son.
She had already lost her husband. If she lost her son as well... she didn't know what she would do.
(end of chapter)
Within the vast ocean, many scattered and fleeing Atlanteans still remained.
Thirty nuclear bombs, of course, couldn't have killed all the Atlanteans. These natural-born aquatic lifeforms scattered and fled into the boundless sea.
Numerous Transformers had been awakened by Megatron and were then all thrown into the sea, treated as nothing more than a training exercise. As for how many warriors would be lost, Megatron indicated that he couldn't care less.
Even if a hundred Decepticon soldiers died, if a single warrior with potential emerged, it would be a net gain.
Cruel and cold-blooded, yet fair—this method of elimination was the Decepticon way. Those with skill could not only survive but also kill enemies and earn merit in exchange for more super-energy crystals and the resources and opportunities to upgrade their chassis.
As for the incompetent—whether they were slow-witted or their awakened genes were unsuitable for combat, leading to their deaths—Megatron and the other high-ranking officers wouldn't spare them a second thought.
Only warriors who continuously survived bloody battles and showed constant improvement were the warriors they needed.
They had no need for weaklings.
If it were the Autobot Legion led by Optimus Prime, they would never use such a high-casualty selection method, but the Decepticons led by Megatron did exactly that.
The world's oceans had become the hunting grounds for the Decepticon Legion. Although there were daily instances of Transformers being killed in retaliation by hate-filled Atlanteans, no one cared about those losses.
Even the human factions silently participated in the hunt for the Atlanteans, striking a killing blow the moment they were spotted.
There was no other way; the hatred between the ocean and the Surface World was too great, so great that it bordered on mutual annihilation.
Don't be deceived by those on the surface who brandish the banner of justice. Countless high-ranking humans had died in the sudden tsunamis, and they had long been seething with hatred.
They were even more interested in everything Atlantis had to offer, such as its technology.
And now, the major human factions had no choice but to gather their armies, warily staring at the massive Kryptonian spaceship in the sky. Though panicked and angry, they did not collapse.
Well, with the Chitauri and the Atlanteans setting a precedent, the Human Government felt a bit more confident.
"Order the Avengers to deploy. Right, have the X-Men take action as well."
"S.P.E.A.R. is on high alert."
"Should we contact Kamar-Taj?"
"Are we just supposed to wait for death without that Tony?! We have our own superhuman teams!"
The humans issued their orders one after another, commanding their respective teams.
"Order Constantine to move out," a wealthy magnate commanded in terror, cursing the aliens at the same time.
"...Boss, Con took your money and ran!"
"What about Deadpool? Deathstroke? Contact them! I've hired them many times, I know them well!" the magnate asked, suppressing his anger.
"Mr. Deadpool went to hunt down Constantine, proclaiming he wants half the money. Mr. Deathstroke went to hunt down Deadpool, vowing to kill that scumbag for ruining his reputation, while also demanding the other half of the money."
The magnate's face shifted between red and white before he suddenly clutched his chest, spat out a mouthful of blood, and fell unconscious.
...
On a farm in Kansas.
Clark, wearing a straw hat, returned from his family's cornfield, covered in dust. It was harvest season.
Despite being strong and burly, he hadn't broken a sweat after a whole afternoon of work. If not for the need to cover his tracks, he could have used his super-speed to harvest all the corn in one go.
The moment he got home, General Zod's voice reached his ears, causing Clark to frown, his expression turning even more somber.
He was already feeling uneasy and stifled by the humans and Decepticons fanatically hunting the Atlanteans in the ocean. He wanted to do something, but he couldn't find a reason or an excuse to do so.
All of humanity wished for the annihilation of Atlantis. What could he do?
And now, Zod had arrived.
The consciousness his father had left behind in the spaceship told him to be wary of Zod, not to trust him.
Driven by these first impressions, a sense of helplessness and rage welled up in Clark's heart.
Why? All he ever wanted was a quiet life, fighting criminals and protecting innocent civilians. Why did people always have to show up and cause trouble?
*Knock, knock...*
A knock sounded at the door.
Lois Lane, dressed in professional attire, nervously tugged at the collar of her blouse. She hesitated for a moment before ultimately revealing a hint of the fair skin of her chest, perfectly accentuating her impressive figure.
In the past, she had relied on this to get her way. But now, the person she was visiting was an alien, a man whose secret she had discovered.
Strictly speaking, this was their second meeting. The last time was inside the spaceship at the North Pole. Lois had followed him in and discovered Clark's secret. To facilitate a conversation with his son, the consciousness left by Jor-El had no choice but to pilot the spaceship to the other side of the North Pole, only to be pursued and cornered by Starscream.
Most importantly, humans are social animals. No matter how hard the Kent family tried to hide Clark's uniqueness, something different was bound to be revealed.
For example, his former classmates.
The honest and simple Clark was often beaten up by stronger kids when he was young, but the other children were astonished to find that no matter how hard they hit him, the young Clark was completely unharmed, silently enduring it.
This was especially true after the school bus accident, when a teenage Clark single-handedly pushed the bus out of the river, stunning them all.
If it were just that, Lois might not have paid much attention, as the world had Mutants with all sorts of strange superpowers.
But her old man, General Sam Lane, was the man in charge of the super-soldier project after Ross's death.
Lane had seen Clark's fierce battle with Orm and the others in the Atlantic Ocean via satellite and had taken notice. He carried a photo of it with him, which was subsequently discovered and stolen by his troublesome journalist daughter, who then began to compare, investigate, and conduct interviews.
As if destined by fate, Lois Lane found her way to his doorstep.
But Lois wasn't the only clever one. A massive organization had also come knocking, its director arriving in person to pay Clark a visit.
Several years had passed. Coulson's hairline had receded a bit more, and a few more wrinkles lined his face, but his presence was even stronger.
Gentle yet dignified—that was the perfect way to describe S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Coulson.
He had brought a team of soldiers, monitoring from a few hundred meters away across the cornfield, using listening devices to eavesdrop on Clark and Lois's conversation.
"...You should step forward. You're the hero who saved the Earth! We will all stand by you!"
Lois said emotionally, cornering Clark.
Clark's mother, Martha, was furious. "First, you have the wrong person. My son is just an ordinary human! Second, even if he is some kind of hero, he shouldn't be the one fighting aliens! That's a job for the Avengers! Let the Sorcerer Supreme handle it! Why should my son have to be the one to step up?"
His adoptive mother, Martha, with her graying hair, was emotional, her voice laced with the panic and sorrow of a mother on the verge of losing her son.
She had already lost her husband. If she lost her son as well... she didn't know what she would do.
(end of chapter)
