26: This is Superman!

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The figure in the sky stood silently for a long time.

Below, the vast sea of flames had already been extinguished by his breath, and now only sparse flickers of fire remained, as scattered as the stars in the sky.

Following forest fire prevention protocols, Lyon carefully checked the area again, extinguishing every last ember.

He then looked down at the Ten Rings base, which had been leveled to the ground, and casually glanced around.

But to the man watching from the distance, every move Lyon made appeared to be those of a righteous Superman, ensuring no evil-doers were left unpunished.

"Damn the Ten Rings! They've committed so many evil deeds, but now... now Superman is here! We have hope! Superman is here, and peace will finally come!"

At that moment, the man felt that the figure in the sky was as grand and divine as a god.

His body trembled uncontrollably. His eyes were filled with the satisfaction of vengeance, but more so with hope and anticipation.

"It must be! He's here to help us! He's here to save us!"

"He's a messenger sent by Allah... no, he is Allah himself, reincarnated as the true prophet!"

Overcome with emotion, he burst into tears of joy, his legs giving way as he knelt to the ground, bowing and weeping bitterly.

"Everything will get better! Everything is finally going to end!"

"Superman is here... wait, Superman! I must tell him that the Ten Rings still have many bases across this land!"

The Middle Eastern man, suddenly struck by a thought, scrambled and clawed at the nearby tree trunk to pull himself up, eager to call out to Superman.

But when he looked up, that golden white suit with the blood-red outlines and the pure white cape fluttering like a flag were right in front of him... Majestic! Truly majestic! Like an untainted pure being! 

"..Superman!" The journalist's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't even noticed when Superman had landed right in front of him.

"Thank you for your praise just now, but I'm not a prophet," 'Superman' said with a smile, "just someone who stands up for justice when he sees injustice."

He continued, "What's your name? Filming near a terrorist organization at the risk of your life is very brave. You're a hero worthy of admiration!"

"No, no! I'm just an ordinary person, you are our hero!" The journalist, overwhelmed with emotion, blushed deeply, stammering, "I-I'm Hafizullah Abdullah. Thank you so much for saving me just now! I-I-I..."

At this close distance, he could finally see Superman's features clearly.

Those deep abyssal eyes were as mesmerizing as the enchanting night.

His face, chiseled like it was carved with an axe, each line so sharp and handsome.

This was the perfect man!

How could someone so perfect not be a divine being sent to save humanity?

Abdullah could swear, if he were a young girl, every night for the rest of his life would be filled with dreams of this Superman.

No, even though he wasn't a girl, he would still dream of him!

"I am no hero. In fact, people like you are the real heroes. Don't be nervous, Mr. Abdullah. I came to you because I need your help."

Lyon felt a strange unease as he noticed the odd expression in the journalist's eyes, making the back of his neck tingle.

He quickly got to the point: "You must have recorded what I did at the Ten Rings base just now, right?"

"Yes, yes, I did!" Abdullah, flustered, immediately held out his camera with both hands, "Please forgive me for filming without permission. If you want to take back the footage, you can..."

"That's not what I mean!" Lyon pushed the camera back towards him with a smile. "I need you to go back and broadcast this footage to the media!"

"Of course, do it under your own name!"

"Tell them you risked your life to capture these images, and pass along a message from me to the media—tell all foreign armies on this land to leave immediately and abandon their invasion!"

Abdullah's eyes widened. "Are you declaring war!?"

"No, it's not a declaration of war—it's a post-war declaration." Lyon turned, showing only his profile.

He gave the journalist a final nod before lifting off into the clouds.

"Goodbye. I will remember you, a brave hero!"

On the spot, Abdullah stood in a daze, staring at the figure disappearing into the night sky. Without thinking, he made a prayer gesture: "Superman above! He's simply the perfect holy spirit, the savior… He has a pair of… Wait, I… I seem to have forgotten what he looks like?"

...

"Jarvis, send the battle footage just now to Tony."

On the other side, Lyon was unaware of the profound impression he had left on the Middle Eastern journalist.

He was only thinking about Tony: "And if he's still not up, feel free to give him a wake-up call."

"Yes, Master Lyon. I will transmit the video data back to Los Angeles immediately," Jarvis responded obediently.

"I believe Tony will enjoy this gift." Lyon confirmed his next target while cruising through the clouds.

"Before I move, check the local time for me, Jarvis."

"Of course. The current local time is 9:47 PM."

"Alright, let's speed this up. I'll aim to finish off all of the Ten Rings' bases before 11 PM, then I'll pay a visit to the Eagle's base."

"Master Lyon, are you planning to act against the U.S. base? Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark in advance?"

"No need to tell him! As a taxpayer, it's my rightful duty to stop those rednecks in power from using my money to cause trouble and restore order."

"Besides, once I make a name for myself, it will be much easier and more natural for me to stand up and take down Hydra later!"

"You truly are thorough."

...

On the other side of the ocean.

S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Director, I think you need to see this!" A half-bald middle-aged agent placed a tablet in front of his superior, his usually friendly expression now serious.

As for that superior...

A bald, one-eyed Black man, sitting behind a sleek white lacquered desk.

Hearing the agent's voice, he slowly turned his chair around.

He had been looking out the window, leaving only a cold and aloof silhouette to the entering subordinate, exuding an air of mystery.

Now, the one-eyed Black man, known as the Director, wore a cool expression as he calmly nodded: "Yes, Coulson, what news?"

"The largest Ten Rings base in Afghanistan has been wiped out, Director Fury!"

"Oh? Who did it?" Nick Fury lazily glanced down, his enigmatic expression instantly crumbling.

"Motherf—!?"

He jumped to his feet, eyes wide, staring at the satellite footage on the tablet screen. There, a person dressed cool and imposing easily dealt with a barrage of grenades using a single heat ray.

"What the hell is this?"

"Director, there's more!" Coulson fast-forwarded the footage.

He dragged the progress bar to the latter half.

Nick Fury watched in stunned silence as Lyon withstood the Jericho missile and emerged unscathed from the resulting explosion.

His mind was suddenly flooded with exclamation points and question marks.

When did Earth get someone this powerful? And why didn't he know about it?

"Who is this? Have you identified them?" Nick Fury instinctively reached for the pager he used to contact Captain Marvel.

—Captain Marvel, his friend, possessed incredible power and the ability to travel across the galaxy. She was currently off-world, maintaining peace in the universe.

Whenever he encountered an insurmountable crisis, all he had to do was press the pager, and Captain Marvel would come to his aid.

But now, watching this man in the video gave him an overwhelming urge to press the pager.

Coulson, with an unprecedented seriousness, said, "This ...is Superman, Director."

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