The moment the restriction lifted, Noah Vale finally smiled.
Two months.
All that effort hadn't been wasted.
Across the link, Professor X withdrew immediately, cutting off the connection and sealing Deep Crimson's consciousness behind layers of psychic restraint. Even for him, enduring that level of pain had been unbearable.
Noah opened the Interdimensional Chatroom.
For a second, he considered what to say.
Then, as a simple declaration of his return—
He sent a single message.
[…]
The reaction was instant.
Deep Blue: …
Kana Kimishima: !!!
The Noble Blade: What—?!
Playboy: Great, you're back. Now get me out of that space already. Do you have any idea how stressful it is sitting next to a hydrogen bomb?
In Japan, Kana Kimishima jolted upright in bed, staring at the screen in disbelief.
He's back? After all this time?
And Tony—
Wasn't he kidnapped? What does he mean "restriction lifted"?
Noah didn't keep them guessing.
Deep Blue: I was muted by the administrator. Couldn't send anything. That's over now.
A short pause.
Deep Blue: Because I just dealt with him.
He attached an image.
On the ground lay a man barely recognizable—broken, bloodied, barely breathing.
The chat went silent.
For those who didn't know the truth, the image was even more confusing.
Wasn't that Deep Crimson?
Why did it look like he'd been destroyed?
Noah followed up.
Deep Blue: Deep Crimson and the Overlord were the same person. Two identities, one account.
Deep Blue: Tony and I set a trap. This is the result.
The shock rippled through the chat.
No one had expected this.
Not like this.
Back in the desert, Noah released Tony from the spatial field.
Tony took a step forward, finally able to breathe normally again.
"Glad to be out," he muttered, then glanced at the broken figure on the ground.
Even just looking at him made something in Tony's body tense up.
"…So what now?" he asked. "What are you going to do with him?"
Noah didn't answer immediately.
He looked down at the Overlord—silent, unmoving.
"I'm thinking," he said.
"If I kill him now, it's over too quickly."
Tony raised an eyebrow.
"But if I don't," Noah continued, "he keeps the administrator position."
That was the real issue.
There was no built-in way to transfer ownership.
And no guarantee what would happen if the administrator died.
Noah exhaled slowly.
"…Still."
His gaze hardened.
"Not worth the risk."
Before Tony could react—
Noah stepped forward.
And brought his foot down.
The Overlord's skull shattered instantly.
No resistance.
No hesitation.
Just a clean, final end.
At the same moment—
Inside the chatroom, both Overlord and Deep Crimson went dark.
Offline.
Gone.
A system notification echoed in Noah's mind.
[Deep Crimson has disconnected.]
[Overlord has disconnected.]
[Administrator privileges revoked.]
[Reassigning administrator role based on highest ranking member…]
[Deep Blue promoted to administrator.]
Noah blinked once.
Then let out a quiet breath.
"…That works."
The outcome had aligned perfectly with his expectations.
The chatroom, dormant for months, erupted with activity.
Messages flooded in as everyone tried to process what had just happened.
A complete shift in power.
A new administrator.
And no one could ignore what it meant.
This wasn't just a victory.
It was a reset.
A new era.
Noah, however, remained calm.
He understood the reality behind it.
This system wasn't stable.
Now that the method was clear—
Strength determined authority.
Anyone strong enough could take the position.
And if someone stronger joined in the future—
They might come for him next.
Noah chuckled softly.
"…Fair enough."
If that happened—
He'd deal with it.
Just like everything else.
In the distance, a portal flickered shut.
The Ancient One had been watching.
Now, she was gone.
Tony crossed his arms, glancing at the still-settling desert.
"So," he said, "what's your next move?"
Noah didn't hesitate.
"Back to New York."
A faint smile.
"And then I'm taking a break."
Before Tony could say anything else—
Noah vanished.
Gone in an instant.
Tony stared at the empty sky.
"…Seriously?"
He waited.
Nothing.
"…You're not even giving me a ride back?"
Silence.
Tony sighed, running a hand over his face.
"Unbelievable."
With no other option, he turned and started moving—using what little he'd learned to push himself forward, heading back toward the base on his own.
Meanwhile, in New York—
Inside the offices of the Daily Bugle, Editor-in-Chief J. Jonah Jameson stared at the report in his hands.
"You're sure about this?" he asked.
The informant nodded. "Our lab confirmed it. People without training shouldn't have internal energy pathways."
A pause.
"But they do."
Jameson's expression darkened.
"You're saying—"
"We've all been altered," the informant said. "Quietly. Completely."
Jameson leaned back in his chair, thinking.
This wasn't just news.
This was explosive.
If it was true—
It would shake everything.
After a long moment, he nodded.
"Get paid," he said. "This runs tomorrow."
As the informant left, already planning to sell the same story elsewhere, Jameson stood up.
"Alright, people!" he called out. "We've got our headline."
That night—
Noah returned home.
The door opened quietly.
Inside, Camila lay on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, half-asleep.
At the sound, she lifted her head slightly.
"You're back," she said.
Noah stepped inside.
"Everything's handled."
He moved closer, tension gone for the first time in weeks.
"Nothing pressing left."
Camila rolled her eyes, though there was a faint smile there.
"Took you long enough."
Noah didn't answer.
He'd already decided—
For now—
He was done pushing.