Inside the corner café, the rich aroma of coffee had yet to fade, but outside, the atmosphere had already turned deadly.
Hang's clone set down his white porcelain cup. His calm gaze pierced through the glass, reflecting six figures slowly closing in.
Like fishermen drawing in a net, they sealed off the area with absolute precision.
At the front was a bald old man seated in a hovering wheelchair—Professor X, Charles Xavier.
The metallic device at his temples glowed faintly as vast psychic power spread out like a tide, yet carefully skirted around Hang's mind, as if avoiding a bottomless vortex.
There was no judgment in his eyes—only deep gravity and scrutiny.
To the right stood the gray-templed Mister Fantastic, Reed Richards, his gaze sharp as a blade.
In one hand, he held a silver disc radiating shifting light; with the other, he tapped the air as if running calculations.
The smartest mind on Earth no longer looked entirely confident—only cautious in the face of an unknown variable.
To the left stood Black Bolt, Blackagar Boltagon, clad in a black suit, the tuning fork symbol on his forehead silent and imposing.
He said nothing, yet the air around him subtly warped under the pressure of his presence.
Beside him, the red-haired Medusa clutched his arm, as if calming a beast on the verge of roaring.
Behind them, Captain Carter stood tall with her shield, posture straight as a spear, her gaze resolute—the determination of a soldier.
Floating beside her was Captain Marvel, Maria Rambeau, her body wreathed in solar-flare-like photon energy, her face solemn.
The last was Baron Mordo, clad in green sorcerer robes. His chin was raised, his gaze condescending, as though he had come not to confront—but to pronounce judgment.
Hang's clone recognized him. In his own universe, this man had turned against the Ancient One for drawing on Dark Dimension power, becoming a fanatic hunter of sorcerers. Yet here, he was a member of the Illuminati—a protector of the world.
Reality… what exquisite irony.
"Intruder from another dimension," Mordo spoke, his voice loud and unquestionable. "Your existence threatens the stability of the multiverse. The Illuminati demands that you surrender all dangerous items and submit unconditionally to our inspection."
As his words fell, the air itself seemed to freeze.
Hang's clone drained the last sip of coffee with a soft clink. He pushed open the door and stepped out, a faint, amused smile on his face.
"Inspection?" he chuckled, sweeping his gaze across their tense expressions. "A group of executioners who personally killed their own universe's Sorcerer Supreme—what right do you have to inspect me?"
The words landed like a depth charge in still water.
Mordo's arrogance shattered into shock and fury. "Y-you—what nonsense are you spouting!" he barked, though his voice trembled. "Doctor Strange sacrificed himself to save the universe—"
Charles's wheelchair subtly rolled back. He closed his eyes, as if unwilling to face the bloodstained truth. Reed's gaze darted between Hang and Charles, brows furrowed as he reassessed the situation.
"Sacrifice?" Hang's clone cut him off, his tone turning cold. "He used the Darkhold, triggered an incursion, and nearly destroyed an entire reality. You feared he would lose control under its corruption, so you held a secret vote—and decided his death."
His gaze locked precisely onto Black Bolt, whose body tensed instantly.
"You were the executioner, weren't you?" Hang said softly, each word piercing. "Just one word—and his head exploded. Nothing left."
Black Bolt's throat moved. His fists clenched as the air around him trembled violently. Medusa gripped his arm tighter, her eyes pleading.
"And then," Hang's clone swept his gaze across them, clapping slowly in mock applause, "you built him a statue. Wrote eulogies. Let the world remember his 'heroic sacrifice.' Impressive. Executioners and saints all in one. Truly worthy of the Illuminati."
"Enough!"
Reed stepped forward. The silver disc in his hand flared brightly as a visible energy field expanded outward, attempting to envelop Hang's clone.
"Regardless of whether you're telling the truth, your existence is a threat! This antimatter containment field generator will sever your connection to your native universe. I advise you one last time—stand down!"
As the field swept over him, Hang's clone clearly felt a subtle interference with his connection to the original body.
Weak—but real.
Interesting.
He tilted his head slightly. A crimson glint flickered deep within his pupils.
Reality Warp.
In the next instant, the complex device in Reed's hand twisted with a screech of metal—transforming into a beeping grenade.
Reed's face changed drastically as he instinctively hurled it away.
Before it traveled even two meters—
Boom!
The explosion blasted him backward several steps. His palm blistered from the heat, his face filled with shock—the expression of a scientist watching the laws of physics be toyed with.
"Nice toy," Hang's clone commented. "Next time, install a safety."
At that moment, Black Bolt's fury surged. He opened his mouth, ready to unleash a voice capable of shattering mountains—
But no sound came out.
The air around his mouth—and every medium within it—was instantly stripped away, forming a perfect vacuum sphere.
Without a medium, his voice was trapped inside his throat.
"—!"
His face turned purple as the power raged within him, tearing through his organs. He clutched his throat and dropped to one knee, blood seeping from the corner of his lips.
"Your ability is powerful," Hang said calmly, looking down at him. "But in front of me, you'd better learn to keep quiet."
From both sides, attacks came simultaneously.
Captain Carter surged in with her shield from the left, while Captain Marvel streaked in like a golden comet from the right, cutting off all escape routes.
Hang's clone didn't even glance at them. He simply raised his left hand.
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
The two heroes—renowned for strength and speed—stopped dead in midair, as if they had collided with an invisible, indestructible wall.
Carter's vibranium shield hovered less than thirty centimeters from his face, trembling violently but unable to move forward.
She strained with all her strength, veins bulging, muscles shaking—yet she was like an insect trapped in amber.
Maria's situation was even stranger. The photon energy within her burned fiercely, trying to break free—but the moment it left her body, it was crushed back by an even stronger force.
She felt like a pressure cooker with no outlet—energy surging with nowhere to go. The helplessness nearly drove her mad.
Hang's clone strolled up to Carter and tapped the center of her shield lightly.
Hummm—
The shield let out a wail, vibrating violently.
"Good material," he said softly. "Shame the one wielding it is too weak."
Then he turned to Maria, disappointment in his eyes.
"Your energy reserves are impressive. But your understanding… is nonexistent. Photon energy is fundamentally the conversion and application of cosmic radiation. You've only learned the crudest form of release—never touched its core. Compared to the Captain Marvel in my universe, you're not even close."
Before he finished speaking, he clenched his hand in the air.
Maria's glowing aura dimmed instantly—then vanished.
Her face turned pale as she fell from the air. The energy still existed within her, but it was shackled beyond use.
Hang released his hold. Carter collapsed to the ground as well.
Finally, his gaze fell upon Charles.
The Professor's face was pale, drenched in sweat. Since the fight began, he had pushed his psychic power to its limit, probing for even the slightest weakness.
He found nothing.
That mind was not a fortress, nor a labyrinth—
It was an abyss.
A cold, silent, infinite abyss. The moment his consciousness brushed its edge, he felt a crushing pressure from a higher order of existence.
It wasn't defense.
It was the indifference of a god toward mortals.
Hang's clone stepped closer and leaned slightly forward.
"You've been peeking. So—what did you see?"
Charles struggled to breathe, his voice hoarse. "You… you're not just a dimensional projection."
"Go on."
"Behind you… there is something… greater." His voice trembled with awe and fear. "Something I cannot comprehend. Its consciousness… spans the entire multiverse. And you…"
He looked up, realization dawning in terror.
"You're just… a finger it extended."
Hang's clone smiled—genuinely this time.
"As expected of Professor X. You're the only one today who got something right."
He turned and walked toward the struggling Mordo. Mordo tried to stand, but his legs gave out. For the first time, fear filled his eyes.
Hang crouched and placed a hand on his forehead.
A cold, precise force invaded his mind, like an administrator with absolute authority, rifling through every memory.
Mordo's mental defenses crumbled instantly.
Seconds later, Hang withdrew his hand and stood.
"Found it. The Book of Vishanti—Kamar-Taj's restricted library, seventh level, deepest chamber."
Mordo's face went ashen.
Hang gave the fallen "Earth's mightiest" one last glance.
"Consider this a small lesson," he said calmly, his voice echoing in every ear. "I came to this universe for a few things. Once I have them, I'll leave."
He raised his hand and casually traced a line through the air. Golden sparks flew as a portal opened—revealing snow-covered mountains beyond.
"But if you bother me again…"
He glanced back, a cold smile curling his lips.
"I won't mind destroying your fragile utopia myself."
With that, he stepped through.
The portal vanished.
Silence fell.
The six Illuminati members—guardians of this reality—lay scattered, none able to stand. They hadn't lasted even a minute.
Charles Xavier slowly closed his eyes.
But that vast, silent abyss—
was now forever etched into his soul.
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