"Oh. Still breathing."
At the center of the massive crater, Noah Vale turned his head slightly.
A blonde woman knelt in the rubble, gasping for air, her body barely holding together through sheer will. Around her stood a handful of survivors—battle-hardened fighters who had somehow endured what should have been certain death.
They watched Noah like cornered animals.
Alert. Tense. Ready to die if they had to.
Noah studied them for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"Impressive," he said. "You held on through that. Not bad."
No one answered.
"Look," he added, almost casually, "we don't have to keep doing this. The losses are already… excessive. No point making it worse."
Every single one of them wanted to scream.
You're the one who did this.
But none of them said it.
The Raikage stepped forward instead, fury burning in his eyes.
"You think we'd ever bow to you?" he snapped.
Noah tilted his head.
"…Is it about pride?"
He raised both hands, mock surrender.
"Fine. I'll concede. Happy?"
That only made it worse.
The one "losing" stood untouched, relaxed, almost amused.
The ones still standing had lost everything.
The Raikage's expression twisted.
"Damn you—"
Lightning surged across his body as he launched forward, his speed breaking the limits of sight itself.
For a split second—
He vanished.
Then—
He reappeared behind Noah, fist already extended in a killing strike.
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The arm that should have followed that strike…
Was gone.
His body froze in place for a fraction of a second before collapsing.
No one saw the moment it happened.
No one understood how.
Noah glanced back over his shoulder.
"…That was aggressive," he said lightly. "Especially after I surrendered."
The survivors' hearts dropped.
They hadn't even seen the attack.
Or the counter.
"Alright," Noah said, his tone shifting.
The air grew colder.
"Enough jokes."
He raised a hand.
"Five seconds."
His gaze swept across them, calm and absolute.
"Anyone who wants to live—raise your right hand."
"Five…"
The countdown dragged, each second stretching under unbearable pressure.
Some hesitated.
Some clenched their fists.
Some broke.
"Four."
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
A few hands rose.
Others stayed down.
And then—
Nothing happened.
No explosion.
No attack.
No death.
Noah turned and walked away.
The survivors stood there, stunned.
"…That's it?"
They checked themselves.
Still alive.
All of them.
Even those who refused.
Tsunade finally found her voice.
"Why?" she called out. "Why spare us?"
Noah didn't stop walking.
A faint breeze carried his answer back to them.
"Go live your lives," he said. "Find something normal to do."
A pause.
"And stop trying to fight me. You won't win."
The message was simple.
And absolute.
Behind him, the survivors stood in silence, watching his figure grow smaller in the distance.
Only then did it hit them—
He had meant it.
When he said he wouldn't attack…
He hadn't.
—
By the time Noah came back to himself, he was already approaching Konoha.
Sasuke and the others were waiting at the entrance.
Sasuke looked him over.
"…You really went all out, didn't you?"
The aftermath had reached even here. The distant shockwaves had rolled through the land like a storm.
Noah shrugged.
"Maybe a little."
Orochimaru stepped forward, smiling faintly.
"And the battlefield?"
Noah answered plainly.
"Anyone below elite level is gone."
The words landed heavily.
Tens of thousands.
Gone.
"And the rest?" Orochimaru asked.
"I left them."
That surprised everyone.
"…Why?" someone asked.
It didn't fit.
Not with what they'd seen.
Not with what they knew of him.
Noah scratched the back of his head.
"I recognized most of them," he said. "Important people. If they managed to survive all that, I figured they'd earned it."
He said it like it was nothing.
Like sparing them was just a passing decision.
But for those survivors—
It wasn't mercy.
It was something else entirely.
A life spent remembering.
A life spent knowing.
That if they ever tried again—
They wouldn't get a second chance.
Noah glanced at Sasuke.
"With their forces gone, the rest should be easy," he said. "Go ahead and take control of everything."
No one objected.
There was nothing left to oppose them.
The world would fall into place.
Peace—of a kind—would follow.
And it would last.
At least until something strong enough appeared to challenge it.
Noah watched them for a moment as they began planning their next steps.
Then he smiled.
"I'm heading out," he said. "I'll drop by again sometime."
Sasuke hesitated.
"…Yeah. When things settle down, I'll call you."
"Looking forward to it."
Noah reached out and ruffled his hair.
Sasuke swatted his hand away immediately.
"…Don't do that."
Noah laughed—and disappeared.
—
Back in Marvel's New York—
He reappeared in the lab.
The clock ticked quietly on the wall.
Five hours.
That's all that had passed.
He glanced outside.
The sky hadn't even darkened yet.
"…Still early," he murmured.
And then he was gone again.
—
Elsewhere, in another world—
Master Ronin stood in a training hall, glaring at the man across from him.
Several of his students lay scattered around the floor, defeated.
"I'll fight you myself!" he snapped. "Let's see how tough you really are!"
Someone nearby tried to pull him back.
"Master Ronin, maybe let Master Hong handle this—"
He shook them off.
"That was then," he said. "This is now."
He stepped forward lightly—
And leapt.
Landing with surprising grace, he straightened and extended a hand.
"…Your move."
The room held its breath.
Because this time—
He meant it.