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*****
Clark watched the screen, his pupils shrinking as his brow furrowed into a tight knot. In the video, another version of himself—a Clark Kent from this world—flew to the Phoenix's side, landing with an expression of total, subservient loyalty. It was the look of a subject prostrating before his queen.
Beside him, Mike couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. "It looks like your mental fortitude still needs some work, Clark."
It was a predictable flaw. Compared to Clark's nigh-indestructible physical form, his mind had always been his relative weak point. Of course, 'weak' was a strictly relative term; under normal circumstances, even a high-level telepath would find it impossible to breach the mental fortress of a Kryptonian. But against someone like the Phoenix, it was clearly a different story.
Clark gave a bitter smile and nodded in silent agreement.
The monitor flickered, transitioning to a third video. In this clip, the Phoenix stood motionless in the center of a desolate landscape. With a casual wave of her hand, the world around her began to warp. Objects—boulders, steel girders, debris—were swept up by invisible forces, orbiting her in perfect, concentric circles. It looked like the majestic rings of Saturn, a display of raw telekinetic power that left every spectator breathless.
The fourth video showed a barrage of missiles and high-tech weaponry screaming toward her. Upon impact, the explosions didn't tear her apart. Instead, the gout of fire and kinetic energy seemed to be vacuumed into her body, swallowed whole until the air was perfectly still and empty once more.
The fifth video played... then the sixth...
As the footage continued to roll, documenting the terrifying extent of her capabilities, the room fell into a heavy, oppressive silence.
Gwen broke the quiet with a hollow laugh. "Her power is beyond exaggeration. Honestly, I think the only reason we're still alive is that she enjoys watching us struggle. To her, we're probably like insects in a jar—she finds our desperate attempts to escape 'amusing.'"
Oren, standing nearby, wore a similarly grim expression. He knew that feeling all too well. The Phoenix took a sadistic pleasure in watching father and son fight, delighting in the moments when he was beaten into the dirt by his own mind-controlled father.
"She is about to realize that was a grave mistake," Mike said, his voice flat and dangerous. Suddenly remembering something, he turned to Gwen and asked in a low tone, "By the way... where are Peter and the others?"
He remembered the last time he had visited this world; Peter, Luke, and Harry had been part of Gwen's resistance group.
Gwen's face instantly darkened. Oren lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. "During the battle with the Phoenix... to protect Aunt Gwen..."
He trailed off, but the implication hung heavy in the air. They were gone.
Mike let out a long, slow sigh. Those kids... they had grown up to be true heroes.
After a moment of mournful silence, Oren asked, "What do we do now?"
Every eye in the room turned toward Mike. He was their last, best hope.
Mike contemplated for a moment before speaking. "I want to see Clark and Fiora first." If he could get close enough, he would do everything in his power to break the Phoenix's mental shackles. Having his own family held as puppets by an enemy was an insult he couldn't tolerate.
Oren's eyes lit up with a flash of genuine hope. With Mike taking action, his parents might finally be freed from their nightmare.
"Where are they now?" Mike asked, slowly standing up.
"You're going now? Right this second?" Gwen asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Don't we need to make some preparations? A plan?"
"No." Mike gave her a thin, confident smile. "There's no need for a plan. The opponent we're facing isn't the kind of enemy you can defeat just by 'preparing.'"
The Phoenix Force? Mike let out a soft, internal laugh.
Just as Gwen was about to provide the Phoenix's current coordinates, her Spider-Sense suddenly screamed. The warning was so violent it felt like a white-hot needle piercing her brain. Her face turned pale instantly. She knew this sensation only too well—this level of danger only manifested when the Phoenix herself was near.
Noticing Gwen's reaction, Mike's eyes narrowed. "Is she here?"
"Yes! If I'm not mistaken, she's heading straight for us right now!"
Mike arched an eyebrow. It looked like he'd be burning through a few cards today. Fortunately, over the years, his collection had grown exponentially. Even though he had spent a great deal on fusion and strengthening, the sheer volume of his inventory remained massive. He rarely had to fight serious battles, and for minor skirmishes, he didn't even bother with cards.
But today was different.
With a flick of his wrist, several cards appeared in Mike's hand.
Card Name: Professor X Description: A world-class telepath. Note: "Let's have a heart-to-heart."
In the next instant, the cards shattered into shimmering motes of light. Ghostly, translucent figures of a bald man in a wheelchair appeared behind everyone in the room. The figures looked forward with eyes of profound wisdom before dissolving and flowing into the bodies of the resistance members. This was a mental shield—a direct counter-measure to prevent the Phoenix from seizing control of their minds.
Looking at the scene, Mike's expression became a bit eccentric. What is this? he thought. 'May the Charles be with you'? He couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity.
Seeing the smile on Mike's face, the tension in the room eased slightly. If Mike wasn't worried, perhaps they didn't need to be either.
Suddenly, a crushing pressure descended from the heavens.
Mike looked up. A woman with vibrant red hair, wearing a black bodysuit and a luxurious fur collar, descended through the sky. A long black cape billowed behind her like wings of shadow.
The Phoenix.
Mike recognized her instantly from the videos. She floated high above, her gaze cold and indifferent, looking down upon the world like a god surveying the ants beneath her.
As her eyes locked onto Mike's, a rare smile played across her lips—the kind of smile a child gives when they find a brand-new toy to break.
Mike's eyes slitted. He shifted his gaze to the two figures flanking her: Clark and Fiora. Both wore black Kryptonian battle suits. Their expressions were vacant, but their eyes were swirling with complex, repressed emotions. They retained their memories and personalities, yet their absolute loyalty belonged to the Phoenix. It was a sophisticated form of brainwashing.
"Be careful," Mike whispered to the group.
A card dissolved in his hand, and in a flash of light, Mike vanished, reappearing in mid-air to face the Phoenix.
Madelyne Pryor looked at Mike with a playful, mocking expression. With a lazy flick of her wrist, the desert sands below swirled upward, coalescing into a magnificent, shimmering golden throne beneath her.
She moved with a graceful, swaying gait, as if walking on solid ground in the vacuum of space. She sat down slowly, crossing her long legs with an elegance that seemed to draw all the light in the area toward her.
With a detached curiosity, she studied Mike. "So, you're Clark's father?"
The Clark in the black suit looked at Mike, his voice strained. "Dad..."
Mike gave a short nod of acknowledgement to his son and Fiora, but when his gaze returned to the Phoenix, it turned as cold as ice.
Madelyne's eyes flashed, and a wave of invisible telekinetic force lashed out at Mike. His silhouette seemed to blur for a fraction of a second—a high-speed dodge and return that happened so fast it left an afterimage.
The Phoenix let out a low, melodic laugh. "Your Kryptonian speed is just as impressive as his. Clark used to dodge like that too. But..." Her eyes glowed with psychic power as a massive mental tide surged toward Mike's brain. "Your minds are never quite as strong as your bodies, are they?"
She smiled, convinced that victory was already hers. However, the moment her mental intrusion touched Mike's mind, it hit a wall of equal—if not greater—psychic energy. A powerful mental barrier erupted from Mike, neutralizing her attack completely.
Surprise flickered in the Phoenix's eyes, followed by a dark grin. "It seems you're much more capable than your son. No wonder he claimed you had a chance to defeat me."
In any universe, Clark was Mike's son, and he knew his father's capabilities. In the depths of despair, the resistance's only hope had been to use the space-time device to find Mike Kent. Because the Phoenix controlled Clark's mind, she knew this plan perfectly well. But she hadn't stopped them. On the contrary, she had allowed them to go, eagerly anticipating Mike's arrival.
She was bored. Being invincible in a broken world was a lonely existence.
"How about we play a game?" Madelyne asked, watching him with intense interest.
"Not interested," Mike replied, his voice flat. He had only one goal: her destruction.
"Heh," she sneered. "It's not a matter of whether you're interested or not."
With a thought, she sent a psychic pulse into the distance. Seconds later, a series of spatial portals tore open across the desert. Hundreds of people—some willing servants, others mind-controlled puppets—emerged, forming a massive army.
Mike's expression remained unchanged. These small fry...
He glanced down at the resistance base. He saw her plan. She would keep him occupied while her army slaughtered the people below. She might even send the controlled Clark and Fiora down to finish the job. It was a classic villainous gambit.
"Utterly delusional," Mike chuckled.
Madelyne's brow furrowed in displeasure. What was that look for? Did he not understand the situation?
"So your 'game' is watching them fight?" Mike asked.
A bloodthirsty glint appeared in her eyes. "I will concede that you possess the power to face me. So, before our duel begins, let us watch these ants tear each other apart. It will improve my mood. If I'm entertained enough, I might even let you live."
In her mind, the base was already a tomb. Her forces vastly outnumbered them.
Her arrogance was absolute, but in her world, it was justified. She was the strongest. But Mike was no stranger to being the strongest either. Faced with her arrogance, Mike chose to be even more arrogant.
He gave a faint smile and opened his palm. Under the Phoenix's bewildered gaze, a shower of cards began to fall from the sky like rain.
Is this the ability Clark mentioned? Cards? She thought. Interesting.
But her curiosity quickly turned to shock. As the cards neared the ground, they dissolved into brilliant light, transforming into solid, living breathing figures. One after another, dozens, hundreds, then thousands appeared. In the blink of an eye, a vast, diverse army stood between the base and the Phoenix's forces.
The shock in Madelyne's eyes deepened. What kind of power is this?
The desert air grew heavy with a murderous intent. The Phoenix's soldiers faltered, their confidence wavering. They had expected an easy slaughter, but now...
Where the hell did all these people come from?!
The summoned warriors radiated a collective pressure so intense that the air itself seemed to warp and ripple. And who wouldn't be intimidated?
Looking at the front lines of Mike's army: From the Naruto world, the elite ninjas led by the Kages of various generations. From the One Piece world, the massive ranks of Marines led by the powerful Admirals. From the Bleach world, the Soul Reapers led by the Captains of the Gotei 13.
The combined presence of three worlds stood together, radiating a soul-crushing pressure. Even the Phoenix's strongest survivors felt their hearts seize with dread.
From the One Piece faction, Admiral Aokiji stepped forward. He looked up at the Phoenix sitting on her high throne, exhaled a puff of freezing white vapor, and spoke in his characteristic lazy drawl. "My, my... only one person gets a seat? That hardly seems fair, does it?"
He grinned as frost began to creep across his skin, half of his face turning to solid ice. He slammed his palms onto the desert floor and roared: "Ice Age!"
CRACK—!
The desert itself seemed to freeze. A massive mountain of ice erupted from the sand at an impossible speed, soaring hundreds of meters into the air. It didn't stop until it reached the level of Mike's feet.
Mike raised an eyebrow as a translucent, crystalline ice throne formed behind him. He sat back, a small smile playing on his lips. Aokiji certainly has a sense of style.
He knew these summons were temporary, one-time uses. But it didn't matter. He had more cards than he could ever count. After years of peaceful life, he had spent countless hours crafting his deck.
Madelyne Pryor let out a cold snort, her eyes flashing as she directed a mental strike at Aokiji. She wanted to crush his mind and force the "lazy" man to do something humiliating. But before her power could reach him, Mike's own mental energy intervened, clashing with hers in mid-air.
The air between them buckled. The collision of two supreme mentalities caused a localized explosion of psychic energy that rippled outward like a shockwave.
Aokiji paused, realized what had happened, and gave Mike a casual salute.
The Phoenix's face darkened. She realized that as long as Mike was there, she wouldn't be able to pick off his soldiers with telepathy. With a flick of her mind, she commanded the controlled Clark and Fiora to dive toward the ground.
She shot Mike a triumphant look. She had two indestructible Kryptonian weapons. Could any of these "ninjas" or "marines" stop them? At their speeds, the army would be torn to shreds before they even saw a shadow.
At that moment, the resistance members emerged from the base, led by the Kent family of this world. When the Phoenix saw the "good" Clark in his red and blue suit, her expression turned predatory.
A Superman from another world? She thought. I wonder what Mike Kent's face will look like when I kill his son... or turn him into my dog.
Gwen looked up at the woman in the sky, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Madelyne Pryor! Today is the day you die!"
Madelyne laughed softly. "I'm right here. Come and try."
"Then... Battle!" Mike roared.
(End of Chapter)