Chapter 668: Remaking the Worldline, the Black King's Motive
"The Pentagon has been breached by unknown biological entities!"
"The White House is under tactical assault, requesting immediate heavy reinforcement!"
Nick Fury kept his clinical composure perfectly locked down despite the non-stop emergency tracking signals flashing crimson across his display.
An wide-area saturation assault of this metric—and one that flawlessly, completely bypassed the defensive arrays of a modern mobilized military infrastructure—left zero room for professional doubt: the interlopers steering the offensive were explicitly high-tier metahuman variants.
At this precise nexus of his calculations, his processing matrix entirely refrained from logging his historical imaginary enemies. He wasn't thinking of Hydra, nor the localized super-villains dotting the logs, nor even the rogue pantheons of Asgard.
The absolute primary individual his intellect pinned down was that long-haired, silver-fleshed Asian freak—Mercenary Tao!
He marched to the master tactical terminal, aggressively punching the encryption sequences to establish a line to Tony Stark's armor, but the receiver лишь delivered a succession of dry chimes before being forcefully severed from the network.
Fury smoothly pivoted to lock onto Carol Danvers's coordinates; the Captain Marvel asset was exceptionally elite, breaching his regional base within a handful of seconds.
"Our immediate parameters require the deployment of—"
Hum~
The exact microsecond his jaw unhinged to voice the directive, a slender silhouette materialized out of thin air directly before his desk.
Satoru Gojo casually lowered his dark shades, his blue-white Six Eyes scanning the gathering of elite corporate and military personnel with an expression filled with unadulterated, mocking amusement.
"My presence here is explicitly engineered to transmit the finalized mandate of that Sovereign."
"Cough, cough~"
Gojo executed a pair of bizarre, highly synthetic coughs. His behavioral profile had always been anchored by an flippant, volatile character; having thoroughly and flawlessly dissolved the programmatic constraints that had historically chained his Ego, his posture had turned layout-wise, astronomically more casual and scattered.
"The foundational framework governing this universe has officially entered a phase of cataclysmic threshold evolution. To ensure that this world line safely matures according to the precise specifications of my Master's blueprint, our blades shall systematically and from this microsecond onward, slice away every conservative, gloomy political line clogging the map."
"From this day forth, this world will continuously traverse a landscape of absolute chaos... to ultimately witness the true descent of the Sovereign King."
Nick Fury's brow wound dangerously tight into a heavy frown, while Carol Danvers's body surface violently ignited with a blinding, cosmic aura. Having finalized his speech, Gojo lowered his eyelids to look down through his lower lids to evaluate their reactions.
His slender frame lazily drifted mid-air, a thick shroud of stygian cursed energy involuntarily bleeding from his skin to clamp onto the room.
This was visually a raw, completely naked announcement of a global terror campaign. What exactly did his unhinged jaw mean by the world will welcome the descent of the true King from within absolute chaos?!
It meant they explicitly dictated forcing a total collapse of global order, systematically compelling high-tier metahuman variants to launch a non-discriminatory deathmatch across the grid, until a final, world-ending "monster" amassed a sufficiently terrifying volume of strength to rule the planetary carcass with an iron vice?
Farcical!
Existing as a clinical director and politician who had been thoroughly re-engineered by advanced modern intelligence training, Nick Fury found it entirely, processing-wise impossible to credit an ideological framework of this primitive classification.
His analytical matrix cede zero credit to the notion that a highly advanced modern civilization could ever be forcefully replaced by unrefined, primitive barbarism.
Satoru Gojo refrained from wasting a single wisp of focus to launch a verbal argument. He merely threw his arms wide within the heavily fortified perimeter of the intelligence vault, before executing a sharp, rhythmic snap of his left fingers.
BOOM!
A devastating, non-discriminatory wave of pure Repulsion violently exploded across all coordinates. In the very next fraction of a second, the structural hull of the subterranean vault buckled and twisted like a metal sea urchin flaring its spikes, before violently detonating into millions of high-velocity shrapnel pieces.
Advanced monitoring terminals and data servers triggered a succession of chain explosions. Amidst the non-stop screaming of tearing metal, dozens of elite field operatives and laboratory scientists were cleanly and flawlessly impaled through their vital organs by the masonry.
The corners of Gojo's mouth split into a wide, monstrous grin. Captain Marvel drove a heavy, cosmic-reinforced fist straight toward his face.
Yet Satoru Gojo weaponized his long-range spatial transmission to frame-skip past her alignment, materializing directly before Danvers's coordinates to plant a lone palm before her chest, forcing a localized stopping force field to fully lock down her kinetic vectors.
The devastating, world-cleaving fist of Captain Marvel was violently and flawlessly frozen dead mid-air before his infinity barrier.
Deep within the ruined parameters of the commercial skyscraper, Tony Stark's face was exceptionally pale and cold. His gold-titanium armor had completely and seamlessly crept over his flesh to form the full Iron Man shell at an unmapped coordinate of the conversation.
Highly likely, the deployment had completed the exact microsecond Mercenary Tao announced his shadow generals had already breached the Pentagon and the White House to execute immediate liquidation campaigns.
Or perhaps it had locked into place when Mercenary Tao noted his intention to systematically plunge this nation and the grander global order into a landscape of absolute chaos.
Yet despite the activation of his weapons systems, Tony Stark completely refrained from executing an offensive move.
Black Face cede a cold, detached silence to monitor the human encased within that mechanical shell. To his spiritual-attuned diagnostics, an infinite concentration of advanced armor was nothing more than a hollow, completely useless block of meat when pinned against a high-tier slash directed straight toward the soul; his quick-draw could finalize the billionaire's deletion from the logs at any microsecond.
Across the corridor, Hakumen watched the strategic layout unfold, her features finally breaking into a wide, completely satisfied smile of pure comprehension.
Her sharp intuition verified that her historical analysis had been unblemished: Mercenary Tao was explicitly an elite asset who possessed the absolute definition of a Reincarnator's true Capacity, mirroring her own elite tier.
To her clinical framework, the absolute primary talent a Reincarnator required to dominate the Space ledger was by no means rooted in close-quarters physical combat—in fact, unrefined violence didn't even rank within the high-priority brackets of the metrics.
[Information / Narrative Data Resources] were the absolute, undisputed primary asset the Infinite Dimension Space terminal lusted to harvest, and they functioned as the absolute foundation powering a Reincarnator's evolutionary curve.
Consequently, only an elite interloper who held the capacity to aggressively stir the chronological currents across multiple universes, generating an infinite array of entirely fresh, unmapped worldlines before successfully executing a tactical regression to claim the massive Space rewards, could be classified as a premier Champion of the Space.
Within this specific tier of dimension-warfare, her memory historically only credited [The Chaos Sage]; today, her files had officially expanded to include Mercenary Tao.
The exact microsecond her intellect accepted the baseline reality that Mercenary Tao was an asset whose elite talent flawlessly matched her own standards, the intense resentment, professional venom, and impatient anxiety roiling inside her heart significantly receded. She could seamlessly justify dedicating her capabilities to harvest an infinite pool of rewards for his engine.
Granted, every line of her compliance was explicitly engineered to feed her own resurrection quota. She was firmly, professionally convinced that so long as her soul could forcefully break through the logs to reclaim material life, her arrays would eventually identify a valid strategic vector to systematically dissolve his unyielding contracts, allowing her to step out onto the grid as a completely free Reincarnator asset once more!
In material reality, Kaito Shirogane's current physical diagnostics were intensely, entirely catastrophic. Trapped beneath the absolute system blockade the [Life Equation] had forced down his tracks to brick his [Stairway of Eternal Return], he had aggressively throttled his engine to simultaneously deploy a Six-Fold Kaio-ken alongside an active Tier 8 The Instant while operating under severely compromised baseline parameters.
And furthermore, to look straight through the sub-atomic signature of Gojo's Concussive Pulse of the Spiritual Light, he had been compelled to force the continuous compilation of that [Unmapped Magic / High-Order Pupil Specialty], inflicting an immense wave of existential framework damage straight across his biological vessel.
Sustaining a total loss of physical sight across his twin irises was merely the absolute most superficial marker of the trauma; vastly more critical was the diagnostic fact that a monumental quadrant of his cerebral architecture had systematically caved into complete cellular necrosis.
Expressed through a purely mathematical ratio, a meager one-sixth of his entire biological frame comfortably retained an active, living vitality at this microsecond.
Had his high-order immortality attributes and underlying Life Rating failed to clear an exceptionally elite benchmark, his physical husk would have long since been logged as a vegetative corpse.
Yet even while pinned inside a broken hull of this classification, Kaito Shirogane's predatory cells were continuously and aggressively radiating an un-suppressable wave of pure Ambition.
The exact microsecond he forced the structural compilation of that [Unmapped Magic], his sensors hadn't merely parsed Gojo's spiritual light or mapped his own unrefined essence; his eyes had cleanly and flawlessly looked straight through the void to verify the absolute primary objective guiding [The Black King · Goddess Rhongomyniad]!
That sovereign deity's sudden orbital entry, paired with her immediate campaign to execute the anchor release of her Holy Spear across the bay, had completely refrained from targeting his own lifestyle parameters.
In material reality, her engine had driven a single, solitary offensive vector against his coordinates throughout the entire conflict.
Rhongomyniad's structural objective in pinning her Holy Spear into this world line was explicitly to re-engineer the internal conceptual laws governing reality—directly entering the "foundational sub-routines" of this planet to execute a massive, overriding intervention.
Leveraging the specialized, rule-bending priority hardcoded into a star-forged weapon, her anchor release had forcefully catalyzed the manifestation of [The Inner Sea of the Planet] directly within the global core. The long-lost parameters of high-tier Mystery were initiating a full-scale ignition, and the ancient mythologies anchoring the age of fantasy were fated to smoothly stream back into material reality.
The Black King was actively re-engineering the chronological tracks of the story world!
Or to state it with cleaner strategic precision: her single spear strike had been launched to forcefully catch, stabilize, and structurally repair a severely fractured world whose worldlines had been entirely pulverized by the head-on collisions executed by his knuckles and Solomon's arrays, systematically generating an infinite swarm of entirely fresh, un-mapped secondary worldlines atop the ruins.
Variables identical to young Cletus Parker—low-tier native cattle whose biological files underwent a sudden mutation because his engine had proactively gifted them a strand of pure Haki—would exponentially and flawlessly mushroom across every coordinate of the globe.
Kaito Shirogane casually ran his left fingers through the dark strands of young Parker's hair, decisively dissolving the internal calculation that had been preparing to forcefully extract the Haki seed from the boy's flesh.
This entire worldline had successfully mutated into a pristine, high-tier evolutionary seed—and his ledger comfortably held the priority to harvest its fruit down the line.
The child remained entirely, flawlessly oblivious to the reality that his biological file had just walked past the absolute event horizon of a terminal liquidation loop, his young heart continuously thudding with pure joy upon verifying that Mr. Kaito appeared to be entirely free of severe structural failure.
That unblemished, pure intent caused a microscopic wisp of a warm current to briefly flicker within Kaito's otherwise vacant, cold core.
He subtly furrowed his brow, his clinical focus still mapping the active parameters of the [Life Equation], his intellect slightly uncertain whether this specific trait was an intentional, deep-seated strategic trap the Kryptonian had deliberately hardcoded into his files.
Was it engineered to subtly warp his subsequent evolutionary selections across the Space?
"Tony, your intellect holds a crystal-clean comprehension that at this specific stage of the chronology, your conventional forces possess absolutely zero tactical capital to blockade my hand. And the strategic blueprint I am unhinging my jaw to offer your squad... is layout-wise, the single most optimal path available to safeguard this planet."
"The Avengers roster shall officially step into the line to operate under the archetype of [The Sword-Bearers] governing this rapidly fracturing world. Throughout the transitional phase preceding the definitive descent of the true King, your assets will aggressively commit their full capacities to buffer the continental casualties and seal the cracks..."
"Granted, your database highly likely lacks the processing speed to parse the correlation, Tony, but forcing a tactical trajectory of this classification... is explicitly because my blade stands unshakeably on the side of humanity~"
Deep within his neural tracks, Kaito's memory automatically recalled his historical displacement down into the absolute core parameters of the Earth's mantle; even while operating under the hyper-accelerated multiplier status of his Eight-Fold Kaio-ken, his vessel had been brutally and instantaneously shot straight back to the subsurface by an absolute, overriding tide of primordial life force.
The Celestial · Tiamut was on the absolute event horizon of a full-scale awakening. This specialized classification of celestial entity, who within the un-mapped original chronicles had chosen to proactively abort its own birth to safeguard the native population, would execute what manner of strategic choice under the current re-engineered framework?
Rather than allowing the structural continuity and survival parameters of this world to be lazily decided by that creature's individual intent—
Kaito Shirogane preferred to drive his own knuckles alongside the Goddess Rhongomyniad to manually force the choice.
Aggressively pruning and depressing the conventional civilization metrics of this grid, completely re-engineering the underlying worldlines, and forcing the planet to traverse an ocean of absolute chaos to ultimately guarantee a monumentally grander, high-tier harvest across the tracks...
This was explicitly the absolute choice compiled by Kaito Shirogane's ego, and it flawlessly mirrored the trajectory executed by the Black King · Rhongomyniad.
Kaito Shirogane "evaluated" the Iron Man via his active empathy grid. Monitoring Tony Stark's absolute, leaden silence—watching the sub-atomic calculations swirling within his brilliant brain tissue steadily, relentlessly tilt to align with the boundaries of his proposal—the corners of his mouth split into a sharp smile.
[Strategic Prompt: Do you wish to execute immediate Tactical Regression to return to the Reality Terminal?]
Defer the execution for a brief window... defer it... his clinical focus was exclusively biding its time to capture Tony Stark's finalized verbal validation.
(End of Chapter)
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