In the surveillance footage, the sight of the Alliance turning into a hell of war was like the most violent lightning striking Mark's mind.
Those twisted creations, bearing his face, reveled in slaughter, mocking his beliefs.
Rage, no longer burning, solidified into a deadly, absolute zero star, silently and lethally spinning in Mark's chest.
"Ruijia, I need to step away for a moment."
Mark's voice was terrifyingly calm, like the dead silence before a storm.
Ruijia didn't even have time to respond, only feeling the space before her suddenly sag and collapse!
The next second, where Mark had been, the air was instantly sucked out and violently refilled by extreme force, erupting into a milky-white sonic boom cloud that lingered for a long time.
And he had already disappeared!
He wasn't flying; he was trampling space with pure power, launching himself like a cannonball.
The cosmic starlight behind him twisted and blurred, becoming elongated bands of color.
His speed surpassed light, transcended conventional physics, becoming a conceptual arrival.
Where the heart goes, the body follows!
...
Above the Alliance headquarters' orbit.
The six evil Marks from the Multiverse were wreaking havoc, enjoying the thrill of slaughter, mocking the ridiculous mercy and bonds of this universe's own Mark.
"Tsk, tsk, look at these wastes, actually believing in things like protection and unity?"
That sinister Mark stomped on a battleship's engine, grinning at the explosion.
"The Mark of this world has completely shamed us, playing house with these inferior beings!"
That violent Mark, with one punch, smashed a brave alien warrior, armor and all, into a pulp.
"Let's clean up quickly. Although the mission is to create chaos, killing a few more, I'm sure that one won't mind."
The cold-faced Mark calmly analyzed the weaknesses of the defense system, directing the others to attack.
Their original plan was to quickly rampage, then retreat before the real Mark could return, causing immense destruction and panic, while perfectly framing him.
According to the information provided by their mastermind, although this universe's Mark was powerful, his speed should not be enough to return from such a distant place in a short time.
Their anticipated target should still be struggling light-years away.
However, at this very moment.
Without any warning!
A blurry humanoid phantom seemed to crash into the center of the battlefield from beyond time itself.
The sheer physical pressure it brought instantly crushed, collapsed, and then silently exploded all the wreckage of warships and small celestial bodies within several kilometers into the finest cosmic dust!
The smiles of the six evil Marks instantly froze on their faces!
Their super senses couldn't even capture the trajectory of the newcomer; they only felt a mass and power capable of extinguishing a star appear out of thin air!
The phantom solidified.
Mark Grayson stood there.
There was no light on him, no energy overflowing, only the muscular fibers, coiled like dragon mountains, subtly trembling, as if containing the power of a galaxy about to erupt.
His gaze was deeper than a black hole, colder than absolute zero.
Time, as if by his arrival, had been paused.
The first to react was the closest, blood-soaked violent Mark.
Out of instinct, he let out a bestial roar, pouring all his strength into his right fist, smashing it towards Mark's face like an out-of-control celestial body.
This punch was enough to pierce the Earth's core in his universe!
Mark didn't even look at him.
He merely casually raised his left hand, moving after but arriving first, fingers spread like iron tongs, firmly gripping that fist capable of destroying a stellar core.
The action was effortless, as if catching a falling feather.
The violent Mark's ferocious expression instantly turned into extreme shock and disbelief!
He felt all his strength, like a mud ox entering the sea, vanishing without a trace; the other's palm was harder than a neutron star's core, unshakeable in the slightest.
The next second, Mark's right hand moved.
No skill, no flashiness, just the simplest straight punch, slamming into the violent Mark's chest.
Pfft—!!!!
A muffled, yet clearly audible, tearing sound that resonated deep within everyone's soul.
The violent Mark's chest, along with his spine, battle suit, and even his very existence, was directly annihilated by the purest power contained in that punch.
There was no flying backward, no explosion; his body, starting from the point of impact, instantly disintegrated, shattered, and turned into primordial blood and flesh particles, spraying outwards in a perfect spherical shape, like a sand sculpture crushed by an invisible giant force.
The closest sinister Mark was sprayed full of this blood mist mixed with shattered bones and internal organs; the warm sensation and fishy smell smell instantly froze him, his mind blank!
Instant kill!
Absolute, utterly violent, physical erasure!
The remaining five evil Marks' souls screamed.
What kind of power is this?!
This isn't even on the same dimension!
"Retreat!!!"
The cold-faced Mark let out a distorted shriek, frantically activating the device on him.
But Mark's speed surpassed their thoughts!
He moved slightly, not by shifting, but by space being forcibly compressed beneath his feet; he instantly appeared beside the shadowy Mark attempting to conceal himself, lashing out with a seemingly casual roundhouse kick.
Bang!!!
The shadowy Mark's body, above and below the waist, instantly formed a horrifying ninety-degree angle.
His spine and internal organs were completely pulverized by the terrifying kinetic energy contained in that kick; his entire body, like a broken chopstick, flew limply into deep space.
Immediately after, Mark, facing the terrified sinister Mark, threw a punch through the air!
The fist did not make contact, but the pure physical shockwave generated by the punch, like an invisible wall of destruction, instantly swept over!
The sinister Mark only managed to let out a short wail; the space he occupied seemed to be fiercely squeezed by an invisible giant hand.
His entire being, along with the small area of space around him, burst open with a 'pfft' sound, like a forcefully squeezed tomato, completely disintegrating into a swirling mist of blood and metal debris.
The youngest, sickly Mark was scared out of his wits; his device finally activated, and his body began to fade.
Mark's eyes sharpened; he clenched his hand towards the direction of his escape through the air!
Crack—Pfft!
It was as if something invisible was forcibly crushed.
One of the young Mark's arms, along with the space around it, was forcibly torn off by Mark's telekinetic grip, remaining in the real universe.
The severed arm was as smooth as a mirror, as if instantly cut by the sharpest blade, while his main body vanished into the ripples amidst a chilling, inhuman scream!
The last cold Mark and another silent Mark, taking advantage of this tiny gap, finally managed to escape.
From Mark's appearance to the end of the battle, the entire process took less than ten seconds!
Of the six invading Multiverse Marks, three were dead, one severely injured, and two escaped!
Mark hovered amidst the wreckage, stained with the enemy's blood and shredded flesh; the molten gold in his pupils still burned with rage, but now also a cold helplessness.
The mastermind escaped again!
It was this same spatial manipulation trick again!
He suppressed his impotent fury, quickly calming down.
With a wave of his hand, he collected the relatively intact body fragments and the severed, still twitching arm.
These, perhaps, were important clues.
When he landed at the devastated Alliance headquarters, he was no longer greeted by the usual cheers and reverence, but by eyes filled with terror, suspicion, and wariness.
Soldiers gripped their weapons, not even daring to approach easily.
Mark felt a pang in his heart but understood their feelings.
He took a deep breath and, in as steady a voice as possible, spoke details about recent plans and operations that only true core members would know, as well as familiar interactions with several mid-level officers.
After repeated confirmation, people finally breathed a sigh of relief, lowered their weapons, replaced by the cries of relief from surviving the ordeal and the excitement of seeing their pillar of strength.
Fortunately, the Alliance's current response speed and medical and defense levels were extremely high; with the desperate resistance of the local troops and Mark's timely return, civilian casualties were kept to a minimum, with damage primarily to military facilities and surface structures.
Mark quickly directed mid-level cadres to conduct disaster relief and reconstruction, reassuring the people, then immediately took the collected spoils of war to the Alliance's top-tier scientific research base.
When he placed the remains of his alternate selves from other universes on the research table and explained the Multiverse invasion, all the top scientists present were too shocked to speak!
But then, immense scientific enthusiasm and a sense of mission instantly replaced the shock.
If they could unravel the secret of Multiverse travel, it would be a great discovery capable of changing the entire universe's understanding!
"Please rest assured, Lord Mark!"
The chief scientist guaranteed excitedly.
"We will mobilize all resources, working day and night, to analyze the cellular structure, energy residues, and especially the traces of spatial jumps in these tissues!"
"No matter what, we must find out how they arrived!"
Mark nodded, knowing the hope was slim, but this was currently the only clue.
This attack also made him more deeply realize how important it was to possess the ability to counteract and intervene in space.
Facing such an unpredictable crisis from the Multiverse, Mark currently had no particularly good solution and could only temporarily convene a top-level emergency meeting.
In conjunction with Earth GDA, all civilizations in the universe were informed of the incident, describing the characteristics and dangers of the Multiverse invaders, and requesting all civilizations to strengthen vigilance and information sharing.
Meanwhile, on an unknown, desolate and dead desert planet, space rippled like water.
Several disheveled figures stumbled out, precisely the Multiverse Marks who had escaped from Mark's grasp.
The one with the severed arm writhed on the ground in pain, while another was weak and pale.
Soon, more spatial ripples appeared there, and one after another, Marks of varying attire and temperament, but all with twisted faces and filled with negative emotions, were teleported from their respective universes to this place.
They chattered and whispered, some boasting of their achievements, some complaining about the difficulty of the mission, while others felt fear and jealousy towards the power of that variable Mark.
In the center of this chaotic group of evil Marks, a still figure seemed out of place.
It wore a wide, old, seemingly never-fading yellow robe; the robe covered its entire body, even its head shrouded in the deep shadow of the hood, only vaguely revealing what appeared to be a pale, expressionless soft mask.
However, beneath the yellow robe, occasionally wriggling delicate tentacles emerged from the hem, emitting an extremely unsettling, cold, and decaying aura.
It was the Fourth Great Old Ones, Hastur's avatar, the King in Yellow!
It had been summoned by Taviel and Ysogtha through some price and agreement from a distant place of imprisonment, but it did not directly descend upon the Main Universe, instead lurking in this interwoven dimensional rift, carrying out its conspiracy.
These fallen and twisted Marks from various universes were its carefully selected elite, its war machines used to conquer and corrupt countless planes.
They were extreme, arrogant, and brutal, perfectly fitting the Great Old Ones' aesthetic.
Hastur's gaze, hidden beneath the mask, coldly swept over this group of failed wastes, especially the one with the severed arm and the one who was barely alive.
It let out a low, unsettling chuckle, like the flapping wings of countless insects, causing one's sanity to plummet.
"Hehehe... It seems you've won the lottery?"
"And... lost completely?"
Its voice directly affected consciousness, full of mockery and contempt.
The Mark with the severed arm struggled to lift his head, his face filled with pain and a craving for power, he roared.
"That guy... he's a monster, his power isn't on the same level at all!"
"If you can really give me power... give it to me! I want revenge!"
Hastur seemed to be waiting for that exact sentence.
It contemptuously raised an arm wrapped in the yellow robe, casually pointing at the Mark with the severed arm.
A dense, viscous, dark yellow energy, emanating extreme ominousness and decaying power, surged out like a living thing, instantly enveloping the Mark with the severed arm!
"Ah ah ah ah ah!!!"
The Mark with the severed arm let out a shrill scream, but the scream quickly mixed with a hint of ecstasy.
His severed arm's flesh furiously wriggled, and a new, thicker arm, covered in dark yellow keratin and with razor-sharp fingertips, suddenly grew out!
Not only that, but his aura also surged wildly at a visible rate, becoming even more violent, chaotic, and powerful!
But correspondingly, his eyes became even more insane and irrational.
This scene completely shocked the other evil Marks who were still watching.
With a casual gesture, he could regenerate limbs and double power?!
What tempting power this was!
Greed instantly overwhelmed caution.
Where there was one, there would be a second, a third...
More and more evil Marks, under the allure of power, voluntarily walked towards Hastur, accepting the infusion of that dark yellow Great Old Ones' power!
Their powers surged, but their personalities also became more extreme and twisted, completely becoming puppets driven by the Great Old Ones.
Of course, there were still a few Marks with extremely firm minds or cunning suspicion who, resisting the temptation, watched with cold eyes, secretly wary.
They always felt that this power was too strange and dangerous.
Hastur looked at the group of pawns, most of whom had already fallen into its trap, and a satisfied arc formed at the corner of its mouth, hidden beneath the mask.
Suppressing their arrogance, then granting power, a combination of carrot and stick.
It played this tactic with perfect skill.
Its true target had always been that universe's variable Mark, who had managed to grow independently to such an extent and even repeatedly caused the Great Old Ones trouble!
Conquering him, corrupting him, or destroying him would be the most exquisite offering to the Ultimate Void, and would completely wash away the shame the Great Old Ones had suffered in this universe.
The storm of the Multiverse had only just begun to stir a corner.
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