Not even two days passed.
The warnings had barely finished echoing through intelligence channels when the sky above the South China Sea darkened—not with clouds, but with intent.
It began quietly.
Radar stations along Malaysia's eastern coastline detected unusual formations moving just beyond territorial waters. At first, the signals appeared scattered and intermittent, almost indistinguishable from sensor interference.
Then the screens began to light up.
One contact.
Then ten.
Then dozens.
Within minutes, tactical displays flooded with red indicators as naval patrols reported unfamiliar vessels maintaining formation far out at sea. Satellites tracking mana emissions captured sudden bursts of supernatural energy blooming across the ocean like malignant stars.
Military analysts stared at the incoming data in stunned silence.
Indonesia had moved.
And they had done so without pretense.
Without warning.
Without mercy.
The first attack did not come from artillery.
It came from the sky.
At dawn, residents across Johor and Pahang looked upward and witnessed something impossible unfolding above them.
The horizon split apart.
At first, the shapes resembled distant birds crossing the morning light.
Then they grew larger.
Clearer.
Dozens of figures.
Then hundreds.
Superhumans surged across the sea in coordinated waves, their silhouettes cutting through the sunrise like living missiles.
Some ran across the ocean itself as though water had hardened beneath their feet. Every step sent brief ripples spreading across the sea before vanishing instantly.
Others flew through the air propelled by wind manipulation or raw mana bursts.
Some glided upon wings of light.
Others were hurled forward by elemental users launching allies like artillery shells.
The air screamed beneath the pressure of their passage.
Within minutes, the first wave crossed Malaysian airspace.
Civil defense sirens erupted across the coastline.
Cities that had barely finished recovering from previous disasters suddenly found themselves facing another catastrophe entirely.
Military installations became the first targets.
Missile batteries launched interceptors.
Anti-air systems roared to life.
For a brief moment, it appeared conventional defense might slow the assault.
Then the superhumans arrived.
Walls of seawater surged upward from the coast, forming liquid barriers that deflected incoming missiles harmlessly into the clouds.
Gravity manipulators crushed projectiles mid-flight, compressing them into twisted fragments before detonation.
Some missiles exploded prematurely, their force swallowed by layered mana shields that shimmered briefly before dissolving.
Tanks rolled out from fortified positions.
They fired once.
Twice.
Then the ground betrayed them.
Stone manipulators drove massive pillars of rock upward from beneath armored vehicles, splitting steel hulls apart like fruit.
Elsewhere, the earth softened into liquid mud before collapsing into sinkholes deep enough to swallow entire armored divisions.
Explosions shook the coastline continuously.
Within minutes, Malaysia's defensive lines were already fracturing.
This was not warfare as humanity once understood it.
This was something else entirely.
A collision of supernatural powers the modern battlefield had never been designed to contain.
Inside Putrajaya, the national command center descended into controlled chaos.
Screens displayed overlapping feeds from every major front.
Coastal cities burning.
Military units disappearing from tactical maps.
Communication channels overflowing with frantic reports.
Ministers shouted orders already outdated by the time they were spoken.
"Where are the coastal reinforcements?"
"They were destroyed en route!"
"Redirect the Third Armored Brigade!"
"They're already gone!"
The room spiraled deeper into panic.
Then the inevitable order arrived.
The one every official had feared since the first radar reports appeared.
"Deploy all available guilds."
The Defense Minister's voice cut through the chaos sharply.
"Full mobilization."
A pause followed.
"No exceptions."
Silence spread briefly through the command center.
Everyone understood what that meant.
Malaysia was committing every superhuman resource it possessed.
The call spread immediately.
From Perlis to Sabah.
From Kuala Lumpur to the smallest inland towns.
Every registered superhuman guild received identical orders.
Drafted.
Immediately.
No appeals.
No negotiations.
Those capable of fighting would fight.
Those who could not—
Would run.
Or die.
The first major counteroffensive formed outside Malacca.
Indonesian forces had already pushed inland, smashing through coastal defenses and advancing toward strategic infrastructure.
Then the sky detonated.
Rafi the Detonator fell like a meteor.
He struck the battlefield hard enough to crater the highway beneath him.
One hand slammed against the ground.
Energy screamed outward in expanding rings.
The shockwave tore through enemy formations, hurling attackers through the air as controlled detonations erupted across the battlefield.
Rafi rose slowly.
Both palms glowed white-hot.
"Let's see how many of you there are," he muttered.
Then he charged.
The first enemy met him with a wall of compressed stone.
Rafi grabbed the barrier with both hands.
Three seconds.
Two.
One.
The explosion tore across the battlefield like divine thunder.
Stone vaporized instantly.
The defender vanished.
Rafi surged forward again, grabbing another opponent by the shoulder.
A burst of white light erupted.
Another body launched backward through smoke and debris.
Explosions bloomed continuously around him as he moved from target to target, every contact building toward another devastating detonation.
For a moment—
The Indonesian advance slowed.
Elsewhere, the sky itself erupted.
Sanjay the Xenoblast arrived without touching the ground.
He hovered above the battlefield, eyes burning with white energy as both hands spread outward like a conductor orchestrating destruction.
The air shimmered around him.
Then exploded.
Controlled detonations ripped through enemy ranks with terrifying precision.
Clusters of attackers vanished in flashes of white fire.
Incoming projectiles detonated harmlessly in midair before reaching Malaysian lines.
A collapsing building tilted toward an evacuation corridor filled with civilians.
Sanjay twisted one hand sharply.
The structure exploded sideways instead, sending debris crashing into abandoned streets rather than onto fleeing refugees.
He carved blazing corridors through the sky itself, forcing airborne attackers to scatter or die.
For one fragile moment—
It seemed possible.
Possible that Malaysia might hold.
Then the second wave arrived.
Indonesia had not sent a raid force.
They had sent an army.
Wave after wave of superhumans surged across the border. A-ranked commanders led disciplined formations of B-ranked fighters, each unit supported by specialists whose powers complemented one another with terrifying efficiency.
Indonesia ranked among the most populated nations in the world.
Its number of superhumans dwarfed Malaysia's.
Stone manipulators advanced behind living walls of compressed earth.
Water controllers flooded defensive trenches before freezing them solid, trapping defenders inside icy graves.
Wind users launched allies across battlefields like living artillery rounds.
And above everything—
The crushing pressure of S-ranked superhumans.
Even when they did not attack directly, their mere presence distorted the battlefield.
Gravity felt heavier.
Mana fluctuated wildly.
Entire districts trembled beneath the weight of their existence.
Malaysian guilds fought with desperate determination.
Peacekeeper formed defensive lines around evacuation corridors, their members bleeding and exhausted but refusing to retreat.
They stood between civilians and incoming attackers like an unbreakable wall.
Outcast Society fought like cornered predators.
They had nowhere else to run.
Every strike carried the fury of people abandoned by society long before this war began.
Neutral guilds—organizations that once avoided national conflicts entirely—were dragged into the war by necessity.
Some hesitated.
Most did not.
They chose resistance.
And paid for it.
By midday, casualty reports became meaningless.
Entire units vanished from tactical maps within seconds.
Hospitals overflowed with wounded.
Then those hospitals became battlefields themselves as fighting spilled into city streets.
Military command struggled desperately to coordinate superhumans whose speed and destructive power shattered conventional response systems.
And then—
As though the situation had not already become catastrophic—
Another front ignited.
Mana signatures flared across northern Malaysia.
Across Kedah.
Across Perlis.
Thailand had entered the war.
Thai superhumans crossed the border in disciplined formations, their attacks surgical and brutally efficient.
Official statements labeled the operation a "territorial stabilization effort."
No one believed it.
Thailand had joined the invasion.
Malaysia now faced assault from two fronts simultaneously.
In Kuala Lumpur, the skyline burned.
Rafi stood atop a shattered overpass overlooking streets filled with smoke and fire. The resistance force at Malacca had already collapsed. Only a handful of elite fighters had managed to retreat and regroup within the capital.
His chest rose and fell unevenly.
Constant detonations had scorched his arms raw, skin cracked and bleeding from overuse of his ability.
Every muscle in his body screamed for rest.
The battlefield did not care.
Sanjay landed beside him heavily.
Blood ran down one side of his face.
"They won't stop," Rafi muttered.
Sanjay remained silent for several seconds.
He was staring toward the distant horizon.
More figures appeared there.
Another wave.
Another push.
"They planned this," Sanjay said quietly.
"They knew we'd already be weakened."
Rafi laughed bitterly.
"After the Great Gate."
"After CCC."
"After everything."
He clenched one trembling fist, forcing energy back into exhausted fingers.
"We were never supposed to win this head-on."
By nightfall, the truth settled across Malaysia like falling ash.
They were outnumbered.
Outpaced.
Outmatched.
Even with every guild fighting.
Even with S-ranked superhumans pushing beyond safe limits.
Even with the military committing every remaining resource.
Indonesia alone would have been overwhelming.
Thailand's intervention pushed the nation toward collapse.
Civilians fled by the tens of thousands.
Borders disintegrated.
Communication networks fractured.
And across the world—
People watched.
Some with sympathy.
Some with calculation.
Some with quiet hunger.
Far beneath the chaos, hidden from satellite surveillance and screaming headlines alike, quiet figures observed events unfolding carefully.
They did not panic.
They did not rush.
They measured.
They waited.
Because this was not merely an invasion.
It was something prepared.
Planned.
And somewhere inside the burning heart of Malaysia, the first pieces of a far greater counterstroke had already begun to move.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Unseen.
For now, however, the truth remained painfully simple.
Malaysia stood at the brink.
And if something did not change soon—
It would fall.