Leo's triumphant grin lasted for all of two seconds. The universe, it seemed, had a wicked sense of humor.
A shadow, deeper and more vast than the first, fell over him. The grinding, screeching roar was coming from his other side. He turned his head, his heart doing a sickening lurch that had nothing to do with his powers.
Another Leviathan. This one had circled around, its soulless eyes fixed on the disturbance he'd caused. And its massive, bladed tail was already in motion, a horizontal scythe moving with impossible speed to smash him—and the bus behind him—into paste.
There was no time for a clumsy takeoff. No time for anything.
WHUMP!
The world ended in a single, cataclysmic impact.
It wasn't like being cut. It was like being hit by a planet. The Leviathan's tail, a weapon designed to level buildings, connected with his crossed arms. The sound was a deafening, metallic CLANG that echoed through the entire street, like the world's largest church bell being struck by a bomb.
White-hot agony exploded through his arms and shoulders. His \[Unbreakable Vessel\] held, but the force had to go somewhere. His boots dug two-foot-deep trenches in the asphalt as he was shoved backward, a human plow against millions of pounds of alien force. The strain was unimaginable. Every muscle fiber in his body screamed in protest, threatening to tear from the bone. His teeth ground together, a sharp pain flaring in his jaw. He could feel the micro-fractures spiderwebbing through his bones the instant they formed, only for the warm, relentless energy of the sun to instantly flood the area, stitching them back together stronger.
[Unbreakable Vessel Stress Test: Extreme Overload!] [Proficiency +8%!] [Warning: Solar Energy Reserve at 45%.] [Sun-Drenched Immortality working overtime! Cellular regeneration at 200%!]
He was a nail, and the Leviathan was the hammer. And the hammer was winning. His boots continued to scrape backward, inching closer and closer to the vulnerable bus. He could hear the terrified screams from inside, the frantic hammering on the metal hull.
Rage, hot and pure, burned through the pain. This overgrown space eel was going to make him look bad again? After he'd just scored a major system payout?
"Get… OFF!" he roared, the words tearing from his throat.
He wasn't the same noob who'd tripped over his own feet minutes ago. That first, messy crash into the Chitauri soldier had been a lesson. The desperate, wobbling flight had been a lesson. Holding back this very tail had been the ultimate of all lessons. His body was learning, the \[Template\] integrating at a terrifying speed.
He didn't just shove back. This time, he fought back.
Planting his feet, he uncrossed his arms, letting the tail slam fully into his chest. The air exploded from his lungs, but he absorbed it, his body the ultimate shock absorber. Before the Leviathan could recalibrate, before it could pull its tail back for another strike, Leo's right hand shot out.
His fingers, fueled by \[Divine Strength\], didn't just grab the bladed tail. They clamped onto it, sinking into the strange, metallic flesh with a sickening crunch. He ignored the shudder of revulsion and the system's frantic damage reports scrolling in his vision.
He anchored himself. He took a breath, tapping into that bottomless well of solar energy. He pictured the motion. Not a shove. A punch.
He pulled back his left fist, winding up like a pitcher on the mound. Every ounce of his strength, every iota of the power thrumming in his cells, focused into that one point.
"Home… RUN!" he bellowed.
And he punched.
There was no finesse. No technique. It was raw, unadulterated, world-shattering force.
His fist connected with the Leviathan's head with a sound that was less an impact and more a fundamental restructuring of reality. KRA-KOOOM!
The creature's head didn't just snap back. It deformed. A massive crater the size of a swimming pool was punched into its skull. The force traveled through its entire mile-long body in a visible wave, snapping its spine in a dozen places.
The Leviathan didn't screech. It just died. Instantly.
Its entire massive form was lifted off the street and thrown backward as if by the hand of God. It crashed through the facade of a skyscraper, vanishing into the building in an avalanche of glass, steel, and alien viscera, before exploding out the other side in a limp, lifeless heap.
Silence. For one blessed second, the street fell silent.
Then Leo dropped to his knees. He wasn't tired physically; the sun was already refilling his reserves. But mentally? Emotionally? He was drained. It was too much. The truck. The isekai. The system. The sensory hell. The face-plant. And now… punching a space whale into the stratosphere.
It was all just… too much.
He knelt there, head bowed, breathing heavily in the settling dust. The sounds of the wider battle seemed to fade into a dull roar. He'd done it. He'd changed the script. He'd saved people the Avengers hadn't.
A new notification, bright and shimmering with importance, appeared before him.
[Ding! Leviathan Eliminated!] [+500 System Points!] [Title Earned: 'Whale Puncher' - Slight increase to reputation with all Earth-based factions.] [Reputation with 'Avengers' has increased! Current: Recognized.]
And somewhere, on a rooftop, a certain master assassin lowered her binoculars, her mouth slightly agape. "Barton," she said into her comm, her voice utterly flat. "You are not going to believe what I just saw."