Cameras whirred above.
The news drone caught every second—me standing among six fallen Nomu, smoke curling from my gloves, my cloak catching the wind like a banner of rebellion.
BREAKING: UNKNOWN VIGILANTE STRIKES BACK – SIX NOMU DOWN IN MINUTES
"He's not just winning—he's commanding," one reporter said breathlessly. "Whoever this is, he's not a hero we've seen before. He's leading them. Strategically. Brutally. And the people… they're rallying around him."
Footage streamed across every major network.
The world watched.
From Tokyo to London. From New York to Seoul.
People stared at their screens, transfixed.
And for a moment, it looked like we had a chance.
My comm buzzed—static flaring—before a panicked voice broke through.
"Phantom! This is Kyu—Night Angel—from Bangkok! We've got a massive breach! Dozens of new Nomu just dropped through a portal—bigger than before! We're out of serum!"
I stiffened. My gaze swept the horizon. Thunderclouds rolled in unnaturally fast.
Another voice came through, barely audible over gunfire.
"Stormz—Simon—New York sector! Same story! Black hole above Central Park—hundreds of them. No toxin left, and it's not just Nomu anymore! It's…"
A pause.
Breathing. A whisper.
"...it's them."
Static.
Then:
"I saw Joker."
I froze.
Not possible.
He'd been left behind. Arrested. The warehouse, the toxin, the final laugh—
"He's here." Simon's voice cracked. "And he's not alone. I saw Skorn. I saw Mindspike. I saw that freak Chaoslash too. It's like they crawled out of hell."
I turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
The wind howled louder.
And then I saw it.
In the distance—above the ocean just outside Tokyo's bay—space twisted inward. A swirling mass of black-purple energy cracked the sky like glass. A rift.
A portal.
And from it—
Nomu.
Dozens.
No.
Hundreds.
Spilling into the world like a plague. With them—twisted silhouettes of inhuman villains. Creatures that should've been dead. Nightmares from my past.
One of them—tall, pale, grinning in blood-red lipstick—stepped into the world with a theatrical bow.
Joker.
The camera caught him too.
The whole world saw him smile.
"Oh, how I missed the stage…" his voice echoed across the battlefield, somehow carried by the wind. "Did you miss me, Phantom?"
The Nomu howled around him.
Civilians screamed. Panic erupted.
I clenched my fist, jaw tightening.
No fear.
Not now.
I pressed my comm. "HQ. This is Phantom. I need a full situational report."
The line cracked once, then steadied.
Shira answered. Her voice was sharp, composed, but even she couldn't mask the urgency.
"Anos… it's global. Korea just confirmed a breach. Paris is already overrun. Greece's team has lost contact. And the Nomu—they're evolving again."
Another voice joined hers—calmer, rougher.
Shota Aizawa.
"Your teams are stretched thin. The toxins were effective, but they weren't infinite. We planned for a war—not an apocalypse."
I looked out over the burning city, sirens wailing in the distance, fire reflecting in the mirrored glass of shattered skyscrapers.
"We don't retreat," I said.
"We know." Shira sighed. "But you need to adapt, fast. We're rerouting Team Birds to New York. Team Dead Eyes will reinforce London. But…"
"We're losing too many, too fast," Aizawa finished.
I turned toward my team—scattered across rooftops and ruins, holding the line, even against impossible odds.
They were kids. Students. Soldiers.
And right now… they were all that stood between the world and collapse.
The Nomu began charging again.
I lifted my hand, voice steady.
"Team X. Formation Alpha. We hold Japan."
"Roger."
I looked skyward once more.
"Shira. Shota. Joker's here. He's back."
Silence on the line.
Then, Shira whispered:
"God help us all."
The drone camera turned toward me.
The world saw my mask.
Saw the way I stepped forward, cape dragging behind me, fists sparking with controlled energy.
And then they heard my words—broadcast across every feed, every screen, every surviving city:
"You want a war? You've got one."
And I vanished into the next wave.