283Unlike when Behemoth had been driven back and forced to retreat, there were no cheers.
There were no screams of joy or happiness at pushing the Endbringer back. There was no celebration, for everyone present was frozen, rooted to the spot, as they focused on the impossible turn of events that had unfolded in just a few short minutes. An irrevocable change had upended their view of the world.
An Endbringer was dead.
"Impossible," Eidolon whispered beside her, disbelief laced through his voice, but Alexandria wasn't looking at the fallen colossus like everyone else. Her focus was on the figure that had made it happen. That's why she caught it — that brief flicker of vulnerability.
"Satisfactory," a hoarse and rasping voice said as if the word itself barely held meaning.
The old man shifted his gaze from the lifeless body of Behemoth to her, locking eyes for just a heartbeat. In those eyes, cold and red, she saw nothing — no triumph, no relief, not even a flicker of pride. Only hollow detachment. Then they closed.
He turned away as if what he had done was routine, nothing more than an insignificant errand. The impossible, the world-shaking, reduced to something mundane in his hands. His white overcoat billowed behind him, and a heartbeat later, he was gone, leaving nothing but silence and the corpse of an Endbringer behind him.
Alexandria stared at the scattered crowd of capes and heroes, their faces a mix of shock, confusion, and disbelief. It hit her then—a sobering realization. They did not cheer because they didn't know how. The fact that an Endbringer—the greatest, most relentless threat to both capes and civilization—lay dead and broken before them was something too immense for them to process all at once.
They were scared.Scared that if they allowed themselves to believe it, this fleeting dream would vanish, and Behemoth would rise once more.
"Is he truly?" A small voice interrupted from below. Alexandria glanced down, spotting a girl just on the edge of adolescence, her face pale but determined. Recognition flickered, and when her gaze shifted to the wounded man beside the girl, the memory fell into place.
She had been the one Alexandria was too slow to save. The image was clear in her mind—a lightning bolt ripping through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the girl who had dared to not just run, but drag someone along and away from Behemoth's death aura. She had tried to pull along her wounded comrade, and it would've cost her life, if not for that fateful moment when the old man finally intervened.
Alexandria's eyes softened as they settled on the girl. She forced herself to remember why she had become a hero in the first place—why she had chosen this path. It was for children like her, to shield them from the unimaginable burden that came with what they did. Yet over the years, that hope had eroded, piece by piece. It had grown harder to maintain optimism, to hold onto the belief that they could win when the writing on the wall became clearer with every battle.
It was difficult to find joy in a war where victory meant merely holding the line, where the deaths of hundreds of capes were treated as acceptable losses, just to slow the tide. For a long time, their victories had been hollow—a grim game of survival where the best they could hope for was a temporary stalemate.
But now? Now, it was different. For the first time in years, something had shifted.
"Nothing is immortal. Not even gods."
Now she saw some semblance of hope. Hope that the greatest threats to society—even more than random traumatized men, women, and children waking up with powers—could die. And not even the presence of the winged woman was enough to truly make her fear or worry.
"I've tried. Over and over, but I couldn't... how?" Eidolon's voice wavered, his mutterings frantic.
Alexandria paid him no mind. She hadn't forgotten his reckless words, how close they'd come to death because of them. He wasn't the only one who had thought the old man was delusional—just the only one arrogant and bold enough to say it out loud. A foolish, juvenile display meant to assert himself over someone he couldn't understand.
Now? Senile, her perfectly sculpted and preserved ass. She didn't care what the old man claimed to be anymore. After what she'd witnessed today, he could call himself Japanese Jesus, and she'd let him. Her attention shifted to Hero, whose fingers were flying over the keys of his arm-mounted computer, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"You think he'll have answers for us?" Legend's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. He hovered beside her, barely worse for wear after the battle.
She glanced at his pristine form and felt a pang of envy. He had been the only one to escape the old man's strange gravity-like technique unscathed. She had felt something far more profound than physical force—something that made her soul, if she dared to use the word, bend under its weight.
"It's Hero," she replied, her tone tinged with a slight shrug as her eyes returned to the golden-clad figure. "His sensors had to have picked up something. Once he's pieced it all together, we'll meet. Things have changed," she said, her voice sharp as she met Legend's gaze.
Scion's mutterings. The winged woman. The old man.
Things had shifted. And it was up to them to figure out if it worked in their favor or not.
The soft sound of raindrops hitting the ground broke her focus. Alexandria's muscles tensed for a moment, the thought of Leviathan flashing through her mind.
"He hasn't moved," Hero muttered without looking up, the most empathic of them all sensing her thoughts even as focused as he was on what he was doing. "Still kilometers away."
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Between the patter of rain, sobs could be heard, quiet and masked by the weather. Then, like a wave cresting, the cheers began—louder than any before. It wasn't just a cheer for survival but a cry of victory, the kind that only comes when hope burns brighter than fear. For the first time in nine years, they had truly won.
…
The celebration stretched on long after the rain had stopped. The civilians trickled back into the their barely destroyed city, and Behemoth's corpse had been carted away by military helicopters—only for Doormaker to take it minutes later.
Alexandria looked down at the recovering city. Night had fallen, and the city was dotted with lights—campfires and generators casting flickering glows. Despite the devastation, the citizens had returned, refusing to let Behemoth's wrath stop them.
The outskirts, where the battle had been fiercest, were a wasteland—radiation, scorched earth, and ruins. Yet, at the heart of Lyon, life was already stirring. Sitting atop a skyscraper, her visor cracked beside her, Alexandria hugged her legs and couldn't help but smile. No city had ever survived an Endbringer like this.
"They recover quickly," a voice, smooth and unsettling, said from behind her, dimming her smile ever so slightly.
"Are you surprised?" she asked, not turning around.
A beat of silence. "Yes." The reply came, forcing her to look back at the speaker.
"You didn't see this... you can't path him either can you?" Alexandria asked, and despite the shadows cast by a nearby billboard, she could see the frown on Contessa's face beneath her fedora.
"If I can't path Eidolon, the Endbringers, or Scion, what hope do I have of pathing It?"
Alexandria noted the pronoun used, then she shrugged it off and nodded in acknowledgment. A death god, he had called himself. Just how literal was that?
"Door," Contessa said softly. A swirling portal appeared beside her, the enigmatic woman's figure briefly illuminated. Alexandria knew her as Contessa, but to the rare few in the know, she was something darker—something far more dangerous. The Boogeymanof their world.
"Hero's got an update. Legend and Eidolon went with Behemoth's body, so it's just you left."
"Alright." Alexandria bent to pick up her cracked visor but paused for a moment, closing her eyes as she took a long, slow breath. When she let it out, her smile returned.
"What was that?" Contessa asked, her tone as neutral as ever, but Alexandria saw the curiosity in her stance.
"I was just... taking in the smell," Alexandria replied, standing up.
Contessa tilted her head, puzzled, and Alexandria turned back toward the city, the faint lights flickering against the darkened skyline. She answered the unasked question.
"The smell of hope."
...
Navigating their base was a headache, and Alexandria pitied whoever somehow managed to break their way in. The person was more liable to waste away and die while trying to make sense of the maze that was Cauldron's underground base.
Yet that was not an issue she truly suffered, as she floated into the white maze after Contessa. Considering how her memory functioned, she had charted the way to her own quarters multiple times and from multiple starting points, which made her one of the few who were not reliant on Doormaker to truly travel the deepest and darkest parts.
She turned away from Contessa and reoriented herself in the direction that should have led to her quarters but was stopped halfway when she prepared to zoom off.
"The others are waiting for us."
Alexandria raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm sure it can wait for a few minutes."
Her answer was another portal opening directly in front of her and into a meeting room. Doctor Mother stared at her through the portal, her features impassive, and her fingers locked together. Even the older woman's white lab coat remained unruffled.
"I guess not," Alexandria muttered to herself, before straightening up and floating into the portal, with Contessa trailing behind her.
Alexandria floated into a lightly furnished room. There was only a wide circular table present, littered with chairs and people who turned to face her as she appeared, the act actually slowing her movement.
"The full team," she acknowledged as her gaze trailed the members of Cauldron—people who had decided to ironically throw away their humanity for humanity. Men and women with one main goal, the others merely diversions: to kill a certain being.
"To no surprise, after all, everything stands on a precipice now," Doctor Mother replied in that apathetic tone Alexandria had started off hating but now tolerated, as it was better than straight-up lies.
Alexandria made her way to the chair between an Eidolon that was lost in his thoughts—his cowl behind him and his mask placed on the table—and a smiling Legend.
"I don't suppose they allowed you to freshen up first," Legend, ever the diplomat, started in an attempt to break the ice, and she smiled thinly in response.
"Eh, eh." Doctor Mother cleared her throat, silencing the room and ending the little chatters, as well as Numberman and Hero's typing on their personal computers.
"Behemoth is dead," Doctor Mother continued now that the whole room's attention was on her. The dark-skinned older woman looked directly at each of them, receiving varying responses, even from the empty chair at the other end of the round table that was supposed to represent the Custodian's presence.
The tension in the room ratcheted up at the proclamation. There were smiles from Hero, Legend, and Pretender, but the rest of them were too jaded to simply smile in response like they did, even if they allowed themselves a tiny one.
"Killed by someone we know nothing about, with far-fetched claims. Claims that he reacted violently to when they were disputed." This time the older woman's attention was focused on Eidolon, and he held in a wince in response.
"I do not think his claims are very far-fetched," Hero offhandedly replied as he continued to furiously tap at his computer.
"What does the report we requested from Brockton Bay say?" Manton inquired.
Numberman replied as he closed his computer. "His first appearance was a few months ago. Our sources tell us he was picked up by a group of teenagers from the outskirts of Brockton Bay and driven into the city. After his confrontation with some cape-powered supremacy gang, he was assumed to be a cape that survived the fight against Leviathan and somehow found his way to Brockton Bay."
"I very much doubt that," Alexandria spoke as the attention shifted to her.
"Your reasoning?" Contessa inquired.
"I was on the frontlines of that particular fight, right till the end when the dragon was beaten back and I had to fish him out before he drowned. I remember everyone who was there, both the dead and the living. I would not have missed that monster."
"Alexandria is correct," Hero finally spoke up as he turned away from his typing.
"You were the first among us to see him. I have gotten the report from Brockton Bay, and while the old man seemed like a very powerful cape, it was not on the level he displayed today. What can you tell us about him?" Doctor Mother asked.
Hero pressed a button on his arm, activating the hologram that rested on the table.
"Firstly, his first appearance was very literal."
"What do you mean?"
Hero gestured to the hologram before him as he explained. "I've reviewed the readings Brockton Bay sent alongside my own, and they match. There was a distortion that one of my pieces of equipment detected on that same day. Unfortunately, I was too far away. By the time I got there, it was gone. A distortion in space, like one of Doormaker's portals, but on a completely different scale."
"So he's not from Earth Bet," Manton leaned forward, intrigued.
"I do not believe he's from any Earth we are even aware of. His abilities give off a distinct wave that I was able to ping. That was what allowed me to recognize him when I met him near the North Pole, where he almost melted the ice caps."
"How does this relate to his claims?" Doctor Mother asked, pushing the conversation back on track.
"He is not a cape."
Everyone who had not been present at the battle stared at him in confusion, while Alexandria leaned back.
"I saw your recordings."
"I scanned him myself," Hero said, "with little result to show for it, but he lacked a vital attribute that is associated with capes."
"So what, he's really a death god? That's ridiculous!" Eidolon finally spoke up.
"I have not forgotten about you." Hero rounded on the green-clad man, fire in his eyes and venom in his voice, which was so unlike the hero. "You almost cost us our lives back there, David. Do not for a single second think I have forgotten that."
The words silenced Eidolon, and Alexandria watched with amusement, but before the issue could escalate, Doctor Mother rapped her fingers against the table, drawing their attention.
"This is neither the time nor the place for such discussions. We can debate his claims of deification later," her voice cut through the room. "Hero, please continue your report. As we understand, he isn't from here. But more importantly—how did he kill Behemoth?"
Every head turned toward Hero, the room's collective curiosity sharpening.
Hero adjusted his visor, a slight fidget that betrayed the weight of the moment. "From what I've gathered, the old man wields a variety of powers comparable to Eidolon's, but he seems to require specific chants or words to activate them. The final attack—what I've translated as the black coffin—that nearly blotted out the sun, was, in essence, a localized black hole."
A ripple of disbelief passed through the room, but Hero pressed on.
"My readings, combined with my brief inspection of Behemoth's body, indicate that the coffin's interior was subjected to extreme gravitational force. So extreme, it caused the formation of multiple localized black holes within the structure. Those black spikes we saw weren't just for decoration—they were gravitational distortions puncturing into the coffin. The holes on Behemoth's body correspond exactly with the placement of those spikes."
Hero allowed them a moment before he continued. "The last one that formed and also the biggest struck something that I believe serves as the Endbringers core.It was positioned right at the base of its throat. You have to understand this is just preliminary, deeper inspections of Its corpse would give me more answers."
Silence followed as glances were exchanged, the weight of the explanation settling uncomfortably. The concept itself sounded outlandish, but four of them had witnessed it firsthand, and the rest had seen Hero's footage. It wasn't easy to dismiss.
"Do you think it can kill Leviathan?" A warbling voice asked. The slug. Alexandria was shocked enough by his presence, the fact that he could speak was just icing on the cake.
Hero scratched at his jaw, deep in thought before speaking. "Not unless the Old Man finds some way to freeze Leviathan like he did Behemoth. Leviathan's different in a fight—he's fast. Too fast to be caught in something like that without a way to cripple him first."
Hero was right. Behemoth was powerful, but Leviathan's speed had always been his deadliest weapon. The Old man seemed more like a striker and trump, than a brute strong enough to go toe to toe with an enbringer.
"Crippling him... easier said than done," Alexandria muttered, her voice low but cutting through the murmur of the others.
Everyone knew what she meant. Leviathan wasn't just a force of destruction; he was like a hurricane wrapped in armor, moving faster than most could even track, much less stop. Even with the old man's incredible abilities, they would need more than raw power.
"Do you think he has something else up his sleeve?" Legend asked, his voice betraying a note of hope. "Something for someone like Leviathan?"
Hero shrugged, the uncertainty plain on his face. "He might. But banking on the unknown could get us killed. We'd better figure out a way to slow Leviathan down ourselves before relying on him."
"I still find this all incredibly difficult to believe," Manton began, his voice tinged with skepticism as he leaned back in his chair. "But I can't deny what I've seen. The barriers that stopped Behemoth's full-force attacks, the blade of fire that forced him out of the earth..."
"Or the pressure," Legend interrupted, his blue eyes turning to face all of them. "That sensation where it felt like my very being was on the verge of destruction, where my instincts took me over the horizon before I could think."
"Yes, we noticed something else happened, and we under—" Doctor Mother began, but Alexandria was the one to cut her off.
"You do not understand. Not truly. Not until you witness it," Alexandria said, her voice carrying an edge. "The world bent because of his presence. It felt like reality itself was being manipulated—on a personal, intimate scale."
"There were scars in the sky. My power gave me something that can be vaguely translated as a quintessence bulwark. For all that, it barely worked, yet I have never felt a charge drain out so fast." Eidolon muttered. "Whatever my power gave me was not a counter, it only served to mitigate"
Alexandria's hands trembled involuntarily, and she quickly tucked them beneath the table, masking the weakness. Unlike Legend, who had the instinct to flee, or Hero and Eidolon, who had the means to mitigate its effects, she had borne the full, crushing weight of whatever power that was. It lingered in her bones, that desperation as she was forced to drownbeneath the earth.
The mood turned somber, but it was disrupted when another voice spoke up. "We have another problem."
Alexandria turned to focus on Contessa, seated at the right side of Doctor Mother.
"Scion's muttering?" She asked. The words the golden man had said were vague and not heard clearly, but it had been more than he had ever said before, and yet she had been too far to hear more than something about balance.
"That can be addressed later, but it is not of immediate importance."
"Something more important than the old man or Scion?" Legend asked incredulously.
"It depends on the context. Would Scion's words bring an immediate change? Would the old man attack cities every three months, killing hundreds and thousands and rendering nations barren?"
Alexandria felt a chill come upon her as she followed the thread of thought and the implications as she suddenly remembered there had been a third act. The winged woman.
"You don't mean…" Legend trailed off as he rapidly came to the same conclusion.
Contessa nodded as she realized they were coming to understand her point. "Yes, I can not map her, and she fits thematically. Unlike the Old Man, Scion, or Eidolon, I believe we have another Endbringer."