CRACK!
The Chitauri soldier's head snapped to a full ninety degrees.
Its bug-like eyes—gleaming with eerie green light—stared blankly at the figure in front of it, as if it couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened.
> How did he get behind me?
The Chitauri would never get an answer.
Because that thought… was its last.
Darkness consumed its mind in an instant.
The alien's body slumped lifelessly to the rooftop, its energy weapon slipping from its clawed hand and clattering to the floor.
> "That's it?"
> "Heh."
Hawk smirked, glancing down at the alien he'd just killed with a single move.
The next moment, he felt it—a warm surge rising from within.
Something stirred in his Microcosm.
A star… igniting.
A current of energy swirled into being, flowing through his body, and with it came knowledge—intuitive, natural, felt.
Within his inner cosmos, shadows of the 48 Bronze Constellations shimmered faintly.
The first had lit up.
And with it—an awakening.
Hawk closed his eyes.
He could feel it.
> To grow in battle.
To transcend through battle.
For the Microcosm is the law of war—the Saint's path. Born for combat. Forged in it.
> "So…"
> "If I want to ignite the stars within my Microcosm… I need to fight. And keep fighting."
In Saint Seiya lore, a Saint's awakening is tied to their constellation—but not in a strict one-to-one way.
If the Microcosm is the energy, the constellation is the vessel.
The star sign isn't just symbolic—it's the container of power, the channel through which a Saint fights.
Bad news?
This universe had no Saints.
No system. No hierarchy. No assignment.
If Hawk wanted a constellation?
He had to earn it.
Good news?
Because there were no Saints here, there was no one else to compete with.
In the original universe, tens of thousands vied for a single constellation. A Saint had to prove themselves against impossible odds to claim one.
But here?
Hawk was the only one.
If he could awaken them—then all 48 Bronze Constellations could be his.
He could become the Saint of Pegasus.
The Saint of Phoenix.
Of Dragon, Cygnus, Andromeda…
All of them.
> "This is… awesome."
There's a saying: A child chooses one. An adult takes them all.
Technically, he was still seventeen—still a kid on paper.
But in his heart?
He was long past that.
> "I want everything."
Wait a second.
If he could ignite all 48 Bronze Constellations…
What about the 24 Silver Saints?
Or the 12 Gold Saints of the Zodiac?
> Hsss...
The thought sent a chill down his spine—in the best possible way.
But he didn't have time to get lost in the idea.
Suddenly, a gust of wind—
Hawk's eyes snapped open.
Two Chitauri soldiers on hovercrafts were circling above. Their eyes locked onto the corpse of their fallen comrade at Hawk's feet, then on him.
No warnings.
No commands.
Just cold rage—and the pull of triggers.
> "BANG BANG BANG!"
They opened fire.
The rooftop, already half-ruined, finally gave way.
The ground screamed with every impact. The structure groaned, buckled, and—
Collapsed.
Chunks of concrete rained down. The entire building shook as floor after floor gave out beneath the assault.
Within seconds, the five-story apartment block was reduced to rubble.
A cloud of dust shot skyward.
Residents who had barely escaped now stood slack-jawed on the street, staring at the ruin that had once been their home.
Then came the fear.
Because those two Chitauri soldiers, having completed their aerial bombardment, began descending.
Hovercrafts dropped to street level.
And now the aliens were in full view.
Grotesque. Armored. Inhuman.
The survivors screamed.
And ran.
But it was too late.
Their orders were simple: Kill all Earthlings.
The moment the Chitauri spotted the fleeing humans, they opened fire without hesitation.
Energy bolts screamed across the street.
Civilians crumpled one after another.
In mere moments, what was once a quiet Queens block had turned into a war-torn nightmare—like something straight out of Baghdad.
After finishing the massacre, the two Chitauri dismounted, pulling long-barreled energy weapons from their backs.
They aimed at the debris.
Because the life signal they were tracking?
The one that had killed their comrade?
It wasn't fading.
It was getting stronger.
And fast.
They looked at each other.
Then—
> BOOM!!
The rubble exploded.
A blurred figure shot out like a missile.
The Chitauri on the right vanished with a sickening crunch—
Smashed straight into the building across the street, limbs flailing. He hit the wall like a fly on a windshield and stuck there, a trail of glowing green blood smeared across the brick.
The other soldier's eyes went wide.
Not that it mattered—those eyes were tiny, like glowing peas. You couldn't really tell the difference.
Still, he turned to help his teammate.
Big mistake.
He didn't even make it three steps before the world spun sideways—
BOOM!
A delayed sonic boom hit his ears as he was launched backwards through the air.
His chest split open mid-flight, armor cracking like ceramic.
He dropped onto the rubble, bounced like a ragdoll—
And didn't move again.
> Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Hawk appeared where the Chitauri had just stood, casually brushing dust from his hoodie.
His eyes flicked around.
One Chitauri… then two…
> "So if I killed one and two more showed up, now that I've killed two…"
> "Guess that means three's next."
His gaze slowly rose—
Toward the sky.
Toward the portal above Manhattan.
Where the Leviathans—those enormous biomechanical serpents—were just starting to emerge.
Hawk's eyes burned bright.
His pulse quickened.
> Game on.