"War cannot be humanized. It can only be abolished. War without a common enemy is war between ourselves." - Albert Einstein

  "Finally, the Human-Malignant War is over!"

  One of the combatants on the field screamed as all of the alien ships fled the battlefield.

  The final battle took place in the Mongolian Grasslands, which was once a beautiful and lush landscape, now torn with craters and trenches, forever scarred by the horrors of war.

  The bodies of human and non-human soldiers were scattered everywhere, a testament to the fierce struggle that determined the survival of humanity as a species.

  It all started five years ago, on New Year's Eve of 21XX.

  People around the world were celebrating the New Year when a large fleet of alien ships invaded Greenland.

  The result was the utter decimation of the humans living in the area, marking the beginning of the war between humanity and the invading enemies, known as the Malignant.

  Unlike humans, the Malignant are a mass of metal, invulnerable to all kinds of technology humanity had developed until then.

  With their indestructible bodies, they rapidly expanded their sphere of influence by sending troops to the most populous areas on the planet.

  For them, humanity had no value, and the resources of the planet were their primary priority.

  All hope seemed lost, and it was expected to be the end of mankind — until one day, a miracle happened.

  Marielle Devon, a stateless orphan from an orphanage in Europe that was adopted by a childless couple from the United States.

  They were stranded on a trip to Japan when the invasion occurred and remained there for five years.

  It was there that she witnessed the death of her foster parents at the hands of the invaders.

  This tragic event also triggered her to unlock a power humanity had never witnessed before — the ability to grant extraordinary abilities to others.

  Her first recipient was a young man who had been on the same trip as her — Zion Flare.

  With his newfound abilities, Zion was able to escape the catastrophe while saving civilians with his granted power — Superspeed.

  Thanks to Marielle's power, the bleak fate of humanity began to improve, and humanity united to fight off the invaders with their newfound abilities.

  Fast forward to the present day.

  Zion Flare was resting on the battlefield, exhausted from the long struggle.

  "Finally. This war has finally ended," he muttered under his breath, reminiscing about the events of the past six years.

  It had been eleven years since the war with the Malignant began.

  He had never rested since he received his powers from Marielle.

  He had watched his family, friends, and loved ones perish at the hands of these invaders.

  His motivation had always been driven by revenge against them.

  "Captain! We won!"

  A young man rejoiced while walking toward him.

  It was a comrade-in-arms, one of the first people granted powers by Marielle, who received the ability to manipulate electricity — Hector Smith.

  Hector extended a hand toward him, but Zion rejected it.

  "What's the meaning of this?" Zion asked, confused.

  Zion noticed a group of people surrounding him, their weapons pointed at him.

  "Well, we kinda had a secret consensus that we, the evolved humans, should be the ones ruling over others, you know?" Hector replied with a sinister smile on his face.

  The group formed by Zion also had its internal problems — the most prevalent being the Pro-supremacy and Anti-supremacy factions.

  Zion had no choice but to go along with them, since their main goal aligned with his own. However, he never expected them to act so quickly after the aliens departed.

  "So, are you the leader of the Pro-supremacy faction?" Zion asked.

  "No, no! I'm too weak to be that kind of person. Wanna meet him? Here's a call from HQ."

  Hector tossed a communication terminal toward Zion.

  On the screen, a young man wearing a white coat sat in Zion's office, with a blindfolded Merielle bound to a chair beside him.

  "Harold? How are you still alive?! What did you do to Merielle?"

  Zion's anger flared when he saw the person behind the screen.

  The person was Harold Flare, Zion's half-brother and the one person Zion hated most in the world.

  Unlike Zion, who always tried to find the good in people, Harold was full of skepticism towards them.

  He never trusted anybody and saw them as tools for his own survival, even his own parents.

  Yes, he was the reason Zion's parents had perished.

  His arrogance, vanity, and selfishness had cost human lives.

  "She's fine. I still need her for my plans. It's been a while, brother."

  He smiled, pointing a bloodied pen toward him. It was clear the pen had been used to kill someone.

  "You know, I never trusted you. When this lass granted me power, I said I felt nothing, didn't I? They thought it was a fluke. But I knew—if I wanted to survive, I'd have to play my cards right. As they say: if you want to fool your enemies, fool your friends first. Not that I ever had any friends."

  Harold shrugged and placed the pen on the table with an audible click.

  "You see, brother, the world doesn't work the way you think it does. Behind survival lies a simple truth: humans are driven by profit and loss. They say necessity is the mother of innovation, but it's sin that leads to true breakthroughs."

  Harold began to monologue, his voice calm yet cutting:

  "Why did we invent planes? Was it to explore the skies? No. It was because we envied the freedom of birds. Why do we automate everything? Is it for speed? Efficiency? No. It's because we crave the time to be lazy. And why do we furiously work every single day? Because we are driven—no, consumed—by ambition and greed, chasing goals we claim will satisfy us.

  Nobody is without sin.

  Do you think pampering others with your self-sacrifice will benefit them? Do you believe that your endless fight will bring back all that you've lost?

  You are wrath itself, brother. The embodiment of anger and vengeance. And me? I am no different—I, too, carry my sins like chains. But tell me, are you even aware of yours?"

  "In times of great disaster, heroes are admired—sought after as pillars of strength and hope. You embody the people's dreams, their desperate faith for something better. You are a hero, brother. But tell me, what comes after a disaster?

  When the dust settles, a hero becomes nothing more than a target for fear and criticism. Humanity fears the unknown. Just as we once feared the Malignant, they will come to fear us—those of us with unexplained power. And in that maelstrom of doubt, you will stand at its center.

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  What humanity craves after war is not a hero. It’s someone who can lead them—someone who can guide their fragile steps toward restoration. They cling to the powerful, brother. It’s why you see the same faces, the same families holding positions of influence, even before the invasion.

  Humanity cannot escape this cycle. It’s their nature, their curse."

  "Rest easy, brother. Humanity will remember you as the banner of freedom, the symbol of their hopes. Meanwhile, we will shape a future—not just for them, but for us, the ones blessed with evolution beyond the grasp of ordinary mankind."

  Harold smiled like a politician—calm, practiced, and insincere.

  He had always been like that. He offered sweet words and spun lies, not for truth or justice, but for his own benefit. He could twist your thoughts, make you doubt even your strongest convictions.

  Cold and calculating, yet disturbingly empathetic, Harold was the perfect manipulator.

  He hid his true agenda behind flowery words, cloaking himself in charm and feigned vulnerability—a predator who mastered the art of pretending to be prey.

  "Do you think you can stop me?" Zion asked, his voice steady and unwavering.

  Among them all, Zion was the only one said to possess the power to bend reality itself—Superspeed.

  He could move at speeds beyond the sound barrier, a blur of unstoppable motion, creating shockwaves with every step. To sustain such velocity, his body was built to endure the impossible. His durability rivaled even the strongest of the Malignants, making him an unstoppable force on the battlefield.

  "Confident in your powers, aren't you? Hahaha!" Harold's laughter echoed, sharp and mocking, like the screech of metal against stone.

  "That's why you're so naive, brother. You trust everything unconditionally—until it turns around and bites you back. Just like with Mother and Father… and now, with your powers."

  Harold's laughter grew maniacal, as if Zion's words were the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard. His grin stretched wide, a predator reveling in his prey's folly.

  "While you were running around, fighting foes left and right, I had all the freedom I needed to dig into this lass's identity. If the CIA still existed, that would’ve been the first thing they’d do. No—that’s what they always do."

  Harold's gaze sharpened, his tone dripping with mockery.

  "And you? You never doubted her? Of all people?"

  "A savior will never simply appear before you," Harold said, his voice steady and cold. "A savior is not born—they are made. Just like you. You were never born to be a hero. You’re the byproduct of circumstances, shaped into one by the world around you. Made to be a hero."

  He paused, eyes narrowing.

  "Same as her. She wasn’t born to be a savior. She was made into one."

  He held up a vial, the serum glinting in the light, and displayed it in front of the screen.

  "What I have here is the fruit of my research," Harold said with a smug grin. "With this, I can literally stop everyone from harnessing the power granted by this missy here—even for just one minute. Even you, brother, would be vulnerable."

  Hearing this, Zion's instincts kicked in. He immediately used his powers, rushing from the battlefield back to his office. With his superspeed, Zion quickly scanned the room and found Harold—just as he was about to inject the serum.

  Zion's hand shot out, stopping Harold's arm before the needle could pierce her skin.

  Harold smiled as he watched Zion’s expression, savoring every moment of his brother’s confusion and frustration.

  "Didn’t I tell you before?" Harold's voice was calm, almost mockingly sweet. "You should never trust anyone."

  Suddenly, Zion’s body went rigid. It was as if time itself had stopped for him. He remained conscious, his mind sharp, but his body was completely paralyzed—unable to move an inch.

  "I never told you my power, did I?" Harold continued, his tone almost casual. "And I never told those losers over there either. I never told anyone. Well... it might as well be a privilege for those about to depart."

  Harold slowly removed Zion's hands from his arm, then casually sat on the desk, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

  "Unlike you, who can travel beyond the speed of sound," Harold began, his voice dripping with condescension, "my powers are kinda useless, you know? Especially if you understand how they work."

  He paused for a moment, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

  "I can turn a person time-static—frozen in place, like stone itself. It’s akin to the powers of the mythical Medusa. Well, I might as well combine a little bit of Midas in there too, since it only activates on contact. And, of course, I can only use it on one person at a time."

  "Oh, and that story about this vial being able to stop her powers for a minute?" Harold chuckled, his smile widening. "That was a lie too."

  He glanced at the syringe needle, then back at Zion, and shrugged before tossing it away. Instead, he uncorked the vial and poured its entire contents into Zion’s mouth.

  "As thick-skinned as you are, both in mind and body, I doubt that needle would even penetrate your skin. Better to be safe than sorry. That day when you ordered some people to send me away, I know you didn’t intend to kill me. But giving that order was like throwing me into a den of wolves, just waiting to pounce. I had enemies who only held back because I was under your protection. Without it, they had the chance to make 'accidents' happen. Like that car explosion? That was actually well done on their part. I’d have done the same if I were in their position. Too bad I’d already mastered my power. I turned myself to stone. I couldn’t test it beforehand, afraid I wouldn’t be able to return to normal. But I discovered my consciousness stayed intact. So, I know you’re still listening to my rambling. Quite an experience, I must say."

  "This vial contains the same materials her mother took when she was still an infant. Her father, well, he's from out of this world—literally. From one of the far reaches of the galaxy, invaded by the Malignant. He crash-landed on Earth and found love. What a happy love story! Not until he was identified and kidnapped by... what do you call it? Area 51? That super-secret government facility. But before he was taken, he managed to create a serum that makes humans sensitive to the intangible—what we call the forces of the universe, like dark energy - the Ethereal Sea. It was a fascinating study, but I’m not really that interested in the energy itself. What intrigues me is what it’s capable of when harnessed."

  "Either way, her mother, who drank the creation directly, became disabled. But who would have thought she was pregnant at the time with a child that was half Earthling, half alien? Because of her unique anatomy, she was able to absorb the potion exceptionally well. She made a few modifications in the hippocampus, which made people more sensitive to certain stimuli. It was just a slight stimulation, but our brains are different from those of normal humans. That’s why we call ourselves a step beyond humanity’s evolution.

  I also tested some clinical results on abducted people who were granted superpowers. What this potion did was overload their senses to the extreme, causing their brains to collapse under the strain. It's like a brain overload. A literal death sentence."

  "Either way, so long, brother. I’ll ensure the survival of all species on the planet, but I will also reap the fruits of your efforts."

  Harold looked at the struggling Marielle, shocked her with a stun gun, and left the office.

  "Strange... What’s happening to me?"

  Zion thought, as he began to feel as though he were sinking deeper into a vast, endless sea.

  After consuming the vial his brother had forced him to drink, Zion felt as though he was pulled into a world beyond comprehension.

  It was a familiar sensation—like the feeling he experienced when pushing his powers past their limits.

  "So this is what Harold calls the Ethereal Sea," he thought.

  It was a place beyond human understanding, accessible only when one’s sensitivity to it reached its absolute peak. The sea itself seemed to materialize, merging seamlessly with Zion's reality, as if it had always been there—waiting.

  He knew it was all happening inside his head, yet he couldn’t stop his body from sinking deeper into its waters.

  "Maybe this ending isn't so bad, after all," Zion thought, as the vastness of the Ethereal Sea began to cloud his mind.

  Suddenly, an orb of light shot toward him, its radiant glow wrapping around him like a shield, protecting him from the unknown dangers lurking within the waters.

  "Last time, I couldn't save my mother, but this time, I'll save you, big brother!"

  It was a familiar voice—a voice he had heard every day since he began fighting the invaders six years ago.

  In his bleakest moments, when despair loomed over him, she had always been his guiding light, a beacon of hope for all of mankind.

  "Why are you here, Marielle?" Zion asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

  "I have always been here, Big Brother," Marielle said softly. "Whenever I use my power, it’s like I’m drawing a cup of water from the Ethereal Sea for everyone to use. But once I give someone that cup, I can’t take it back—because their bodies consume it."

  So that’s the case, Zion thought.

  This meant she could give everyone the power they desired.

  "But at the same time, Big Brother," Marielle continued, her voice tinged with solemnity, "this water is tantalizing for those who have tasted it. If you consume more than your body can handle, the Sea will consume you in return."

  It was a power akin to a bargain with the devil—one moment you wield it to your advantage, but the slightest carelessness, and the devil becomes the one who consumes you.

  "I want to chat more with you, Big Brother, but our time is limited," Marielle said, her voice soft yet urgent. "There are scary monsters here in the depths—collective thoughts of those who have been consumed by this place."

  She paused, hovering around him, her movements awkward but endearing, like a child trying to encourage a loved one.

  "Try focusing on using your power all at once, Big Brother. If you can do that, this place might actually become a boon for you."

  Zion watched her fly clumsily around him, her determination pulling a small smile from his otherwise focused expression.

  He took a deep breath and followed her advice.

  For Zion, using his powers had always felt like starting an old engine—each effort demanding focus, precision, and force of will.

  Unlike when he regularly used his powers, something felt fundamentally different this time.

  Zion could feel every photon of light passing through his body—an unstoppable force surging around him. The sensation was overwhelming, faster and steadier than anything he’d ever experienced.

  But then, something changed.

  The relentless flow of particles began to slow. At first, it was subtle—almost imperceptible—but the deceleration became undeniable. Bit by bit, the photons, once streaking like lightning, started to crawl.

  And then, they stopped.

  Each particle of light froze in place, suspended in the air as if time itself had ground to a halt.

  Then everything happened in a flash - all particles reversed.

  The entrophy of the world started to reverse.

  Zion was stunned. The Ethereal Sea was capable of creating such a vast imbalance.

  He was triggering a phenomenon that mirrored the theoretical Big Crunch—the catastrophic collapse of the universe upon itself.

  It was one of the most famous theories about the potential end of all things.

  Yet, as awe-inspiring and terrifying as it was, everything was happening only inside his mind. The real world outside remained untouched, oblivious to the chaos unfolding within him.

  And then, finally, it came to a full stop.

  It was on that fated day—the day Zion reached out and grabbed her hand, desperate to escape the hell unleashed by the invaders.

  Her hand, small and fragile, held so much innocence. It was the last reminder of a world untouched by the horrors around them.

  “Will you grab my hand again?”

  It was as if the universe itself was posing a question that held the weight of a lifetime.