On the outskirts of New York, inside a secured storage room, the Exorcist stared at the pile of gold in front of him.
Not a few bars.
Not a small fortune.
A literal stack—enough to fill a box the size of a human head.
For a moment, he honestly wondered if he was dreaming.
"This… this is a bit much," he muttered, clearing his throat as he tried to sound composed.
He failed.
This was more wealth than he could have earned in a lifetime. And Noah had handed it over like it was nothing.
Willy smiled politely. "Please accept it. It's Mr. Vale's way of showing appreciation. What you share with him isn't something that can be measured in money."
After a token attempt at refusing, the Exorcist gave in.
The moment he lifted the box, his expression betrayed him. Even with his strength, the weight of it made his grip tighten instinctively.
He couldn't stop the small grin creeping onto his face.
When he stepped outside, he found the others already gathered—each of them carrying their own gifts.
Master Ronin.
Kana Kimishima.
The Noble Blade.
Their eyes met.
No one said anything at first.
They didn't need to.
The excitement was obvious.
Then—
A thunderous explosion echoed across the city.
"BOOM—!"
The ground itself seemed to tremble.
Everyone looked up instinctively, but from this distance, there was no way to tell what had happened.
Only that something massive had just gone down.
Tony Stark reacted instantly.
"JARVIS, what was that?"
There was a brief pause.
Then the AI responded.
"That was the sound of the Empire State Building being destroyed by Mr. Vale."
Silence.
Tony blinked.
"…He did what?"
Even for him, that crossed into absurd territory.
"He destroyed the Empire State Building?" Tony repeated. "Has he completely lost it?"
Around him, the others turned at the mention of Noah's name.
Tony didn't waste time explaining from scratch.
"JARVIS, where is he now? What's he doing?"
"He is currently moving toward the White House at high speed," JARVIS replied. "He has declared the beginning of a global conflict."
That was enough.
Tony ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"Of course he did."
Kana stepped forward, concern written across her face. "What happened?"
Tony gave them the short version.
By the time he finished, no one spoke.
Even the Noble Blade, who had spent time learning about modern warfare, looked shaken. A single well-equipped military unit could wipe out entire factions in his world.
And Noah—
Was challenging the entire planet.
And doing it like it was an afterthought.
Tony opened the Interdimensional Chatroom and started typing rapidly.
Playboy: @DeepBlue, slow down. Don't do anything stupid.
Playboy: @DeepBlue We can talk this out. No need to escalate.
A reply came almost instantly.
DeepBlue: It's not me who's lost perspective. It's humanity. I'm just helping them wake up.
DeepBlue: Don't worry. The casualties will be limited. Compared to previous global wars, this is acceptable.
DeepBlue: Once they calm down and learn how to speak to me properly, I'll stop.
Tony stared at the messages.
"…You're kidding me," he muttered.
"So beating the entire world into submission is your version of 'helping them calm down'?"
No one else knew what to say.
At this point, Noah's way of thinking had crossed into something none of them could relate to.
Master Ronin frowned. "So… do we leave?"
Kana shook her head immediately, her eyes bright with excitement.
"I want to stay and see what happens."
There was something reckless in her tone—like watching history unfold in real time.
The Exorcist sighed. "I should stay. Maybe I can talk him down. He doesn't need to go this far."
The Noble Blade nodded. "He's helped me before. I can't just walk away now."
One by one, they made their choice.
None of them left.
Far beyond the city, Noah Vale moved like a streak of light across the land.
At his speed, distance barely mattered. Every second carried him hundreds of meters closer to Washington.
Above him, satellites locked onto his position.
Inside the White House, Matthew Ellis looked pale.
"We have to stop him before he gets here," Ellis said urgently. "Deploy everything. I want him contained outside Washington."
Orders spread instantly.
Across the country, military forces mobilized.
This wasn't a gradual escalation.
They were going all in from the start.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury stood in front of a wall of screens.
"What are our odds?" he asked.
A researcher shook his head.
"If he doesn't choose to engage directly, we can't hit him. Our weapons can't track someone moving like that—not when he can change direction mid-air."
"Wait," Maria Hill said suddenly. "He stopped."
Everyone turned.
On-screen, Noah stood alone in an open stretch of land.
Still.
Looking up.
It almost felt like he was staring back at them—through the satellites.
"What is he doing?" Hill asked.
Fury didn't hesitate.
"Deploy the Sentinels."
A voice from behind cut in.
Phil Coulson frowned. "Director, they're not ready. We're not even past the early development stage."
Fury's expression hardened.
"We don't have a choice," he said. "Use everything we've got. If we don't stop him now, we lose the planet."
He knew better than anyone what Noah was capable of.
Too many of Noah's past actions had been buried, classified, suppressed.
And now—
They were paying the price for underestimating him.
On the ground, Noah stood with his arms crossed.
Waiting.
At his current speed, he could reach the White House in minutes.
But he had given them an hour.
So he'd use the time.
Play a little.
His eyes closed.
Wind stirred around him, lifting strands of black hair as he stood there like something ancient and immovable.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then—
His eyes opened.
In the distance, aircraft approached.
From the sky, dark shapes were released—large, humanoid machines dropping toward the ground.
Noah watched them fall, a flicker of interest crossing his expression.
"…Sentinels."
A faint smile formed.
"So this is how you're starting."