The immense kinetic force and the agonizing pain from the extreme heat were so overwhelming that the two ninjas couldn't even manage full screams, only wrenching inhuman, short, piercing howls from deep in their throats. Their bodies slammed backward as if struck by a giant hammer, instantly losing all combat ability, convulsing in pain on the ground.
Hawk's gaze didn't linger. His crimson-gold eyes, like substantial, burning blades, followed the falling ninjas, sweeping back coldly and rapidly. Where the beams touched, even the hard steel-reinforced concrete floor gave a pained groan.
Sizzle—Pssh!
Two charred ravines, several inches deep and emitting billows of white smoke, were instantly plowed into the ground. The cement along the edges of the trenches was instantly melted, crystallized, and vitrified, glowing a dull red, scarring the floor like marks of hell. The air was thick with the acrid smell of ozone and burnt rock dust.
This devastating barrage acted as an invisible, scorching barrier, forcibly pushing back the pursuing ninjas. The searing beams grazed their heels; the intense heat and concussive air forced them to roll and dodge, their offensive completely shattered, their eyes filled with the shock and confusion of facing an unknown, terrifying power.
The four Turtles, who had been carried away by Hawk moments before, nearly dropped their jaws.
"Oh my gosh! That… that's… a high-energy laser weapon? Built into his eyes?" Donatello gasped, his voice escalating in pitch from the shock. "But that energy density… that instant vaporization effect… it surpasses my understanding of energy weapons!"
Leonardo, the leader, forcefully suppressed his internal shock, his gaze fixed on the residual glow in Hawk's eyes and the two deep trenches in the floor. His voice was low and serious. "Unbelievable… a walking, self-propelled particle cannon. Precise, lethal…"
The hot-tempered Raphael was also momentarily stunned, a rare sight, his eyes under his mask wide as saucers. He let out a curse: "Holy Mother of…!" He looked at the horrific wounds on the fallen ninjas' shoulders and the charred weapon remnants, then at the trenches in the ground, and spat disdainfully. "Damn! He's a living incinerator!"
Michelangelo's mouth formed a huge 'O,' and he even forgot to twirl his nunchaku. "Hawk, bro, do you have a star core in your eyes?!" He gestured dramatically in front of his face, his shock mixed with childlike excitement. "Whoosh! Whoosh! Two red lights, KAPOW! BLAM! Ninjas down, floor ruined! Awesome! That's definitely the 'hottest' death-stare I've ever seen!"
Hiding nearby, Emily gasped and instinctively covered her mouth. "Oh… my God…" Her voice trembled. "Hawk… what is he?!" Her worldview had been completely shattered again.
April O'Neil, the veteran reporter, couldn't hide her shock, but she quickly regained her professional composure. While documenting the scene with her camera, she pulled out a voice recorder and rapidly dictated what she saw: "Hawk Lane, the famed heir, is a superhuman. He displayed a Heat Ray ability of incredibly high perceived temperature, instantly melting alloy armor and weapons, and causing deep damage to the ground. The destructive power is astonishing. The attackers are completely stunned." Her voice was filled with unbelievable certainty, yet also wary of the unknown power.
At this moment, the chilling crimson-gold glow in Hawk's eyes slowly receded, leaving only faint embers in his retina. He expressionlessly scanned the retreating, shaken ninjas and the two smoking, charred ravines on the floor. That world-breaking strike seemed as trivial to him as a blink.
The battlefield fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the faint groans of the incapacitated ninjas and the tiny crackling sound of molten slag cooling in the floor trenches.
Seeing the astonished people and turtles, Hawk clapped his hands in mild exasperation. "What are you staring at? Let's go!"
The others finally snapped back to reality and scrambled to follow the passage.
After seeing them run ahead, Hawk looked back at the smoke-filled, almost ruined base. A red light flashed in his eyes, and two precise Heat Rays severed a crucial, massive pipe supporting the passage entrance.
RUMBLE!!
The pipe, along with a large section of debris, slammed down, completely blocking the pursuit entrance. Angry roars from the Super Soldiers and the sounds of ninjas digging followed behind them.
Hawk used the complex terrain, occasionally melting key structural points with his Heat Ray to create obstacles, successfully losing the annoying 'flies.'
The four giant Turtles—Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello—were covered in scrapes and sewage, scanning the dark riverbank line vigilantly.
April O'Neil sat on the cold concrete embankment, her chest heaving violently, her gasps loud in the silence. Her eyes were fixed on Hawk.
Hawk's naked torso was like a sculpted Greek marble under the hazy moonlight, his muscle definition prominent, with wisps of steam still rising from his skin, as if a furnace smoldered within. Beside her, though covered in dust and still shaken, Emily's gaze held undisguised awe and a certain spark of excitement toward Hawk.
He clearly felt the two sets of eyes, different in nature but equally intense, focused on him. Hawk casually shook his wrist, as if he'd just finished a light workout, and broke the silence with a teasing remark:
"The 'admiration show' is free, ladies, but the venue is a little… low-rent." He glanced around the damp, dark environment and shrugged.
"I must say, Mr. Hawk, you're far more visually compelling than your magazine and television image," April said, biting her lip, unable to peel her gaze away from Hawk's physique, carefully choosing her words.
Hawk took a wide, slightly worn hoodie Michelangelo had inexplicably managed to find and hand to him, quickly pulling it on to conceal his attention-grabbing body.
As he dressed, he replied, "Compelling? Should I take that to mean I'm not as handsome as my image in the media?"
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