It had been 2 weeks since Firmatha Sangaur's arrival, not long after the Persequions began to broadcast daily missions. At first, they feared they wouldn't be able to find compelling enough content to capture the people. However, almost as if the monsters knew and were assisting them, the rise in monster activity, especially from powerful monsters, skyrocketed after Firmatha Sangaur made itself known to the world.

If they were hiding before, they were now brazenly out in the open, and now the Chasers had no reason to hide their activity from the world. And now was the time for the daily broadcasts. Across the globe, billions of screens flashed The Renegade's symbol, which was now used to represent all of Heka.

The feed jolted to life above an endless stretch of ocean. The camera bobbed and spun with the lazy drift of their hovercraft, spray catching the lens. Manic leaned into the frame upside-down, his grin wide, his hair whipping in the salt wind. A pair of psionic goggles rested on his forehead.

"What's up, everyone?! It's yo boy, Manic!" he shouted, voice booming over the drone mics, " And today we're going fishing!" He spread out his hands to show the vast sea behind him. The camera panned to show Team Michael.

The team—Shango steady at the helm, Siren humming against the waves, Mirage flickering with illusion, and Bumi leaning against the rail—looked almost resigned.

"Fishing, mate? We're hunting a school of skyscraper-sized rogue leviathans." Shango chuckled.

"Yeah, that's what I said! We're going fishing! I'm gon catch me a bigg'in!" Manic's manic energy was infectious. Millions laughed, spammed comments across the live chat, and clipped his words into instant memes.

"Fishing, huh?" Siren muttered, eyes narrowing.

"Yeaaaah, whoever catches the smallest one has to buy dinner for the week." Manic issued a challenge.

"Oi, aye, I can get behind that." Bumi bellowed.

"Can't we just eat the fish?" Mirage asked.

"Booooo, Boo this man!" Manic pointed in derision at Mirage.

Within twenty minutes, the feed shattered every viewership record. People weren't just watching—they were quoting him like scripture. "We're going fishing!" plastered neon across chat scrolls. For some, Team Michael was chaos incarnate. For others, they were proof that gods didn't have to be grim—they could laugh, and the world laughed with them. As the world laughed, a swarm of giant shadows formed beneath them, and storm clouds began to form from nothing above them.

In contrast, the second feed opened on a blizzard. Cameras shook in the gale as towering figures well over 3 meters moved through the snow—Abominable snowmen, each powerful enough to plow through mountains. Physically, they rivaled the Orc Titans. Their fists shattered cliffs, their howls bent the storm of snow itself.

Four silhouettes floated in the sky against them. Mythara, his rose-gold eyes burning through the whiteout. The Conductor, arms folded, and with a look of disinterest. Amaterasu, her blades drawn and ready. The Hoarder, towering with raw power as his body began to glow.

"There are a lot of them." The Hoarder said, as the horde of snowmen ran towards them. The sounds of their powerful steps quaked the earth. With their staggering numbers, it was hard to tell what was snow and what was fur.

"They multiply as fast as Titan Orcs, but they don't kill each other nearly as much, and they survive by feeding on snow and ice." The Conductor informed, but was talking to the audience, not his team.

"If that's the case, killing all these won't bring them to extinction, then, so I can go wild?" The Hoarder asked.

"No, they won't go extinct. But even if they could, who cares? Go wild." At The Conductor's words, The Hoarder laughed and descended into the snow. His glowing body charged forward. He blew through the first patch he collided with, and they exploded into a mist of blood. Amaterasu, with a burst of speed that could not be followed even by these specialized cameras, only trails of blue could be seen as she weaved a trail of corpses.

"Where are you going?" The Conductor asked as he saw Mythara floating off into the distance.

"To find the leader," Mythara answered, and The Conductor nodded his head.

Mythara then vanished as he teleported away.

"Hmmp…" The Conductor frowned as a massive orb of ice the size of a cliffside headed his way. Arches of lighting sparked off his person and reduced the block of ice to mist. He looked towards the Snowman who threw it. That snowman felt his hair rise as the static built in the immediate area. Before it could respond, a massive bolt of lightning crashed down, obliterating it and everything around it.

This stream didn't break records the way Michael's did—but those who tuned in whispered as though they'd seen scripture written in frost and blood. Silence swept across living rooms, temples, and bars worldwide as they watched the Persequions carve through the horde with unrelenting precision.

Back at the fishing trip, the hovercraft lurched as a massive tail, wider than the vessel itself, smacked the water. Foam surged skyward, drenching the cameras. A leviathan breached—a serpent-like behemoth with scales like jagged coral, its roar shaking the air. As storm clouds gathered.

"Dinner's here!" Manic whooped, hurling a construct harpoon of jagged psionic energy into the beast's eye.

Shango moved like a commander on a battlefield. "Siren—drive it back! Mirage, double it! Bumi, take it out!" His voice cut through the chaos like a drumbeat.

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Siren sang, her voice carrying through her paint mask that had Systems etched on its filters. Her soundwaves bent the water itself, pushing waves against the leviathan's flank, startling it. Mirage multiplied the creature into three more, throwing its senses into confusion. Bumi laughed as he made his move. He leaped from the craft, stripping salt from the sea. He used it to form a giant spike-tipped hammer that sparkled like crystal in the sun's rays. The Hammer smashed against the Leviathan's head, bursting it like a melon.

"That one's my catch! I hit it first!" Manic shouted.

"It's the one who gets the last hit who gets the kill, ya bampot." Bumi protested.

Manic then shouted in frustration.

Millions watched, half-laughing at Manic's antics, half-awed at the raw coordination. The live chat pulsed like a living thing:

"Praise be to Manic the Mad Fisher!"

"Shango for President."

"Clip that hit—Bumi's a beast!"

"Don't worry, Manic, we still have plenty left," Shango smirked as the sea exploded with writhing, wiggling sea serpents. Shango's laid-back demeanor turned serious, and he motioned towards Manic.

"Lock 'em down. Siren-- they look tired. Mirage, Bumi fish in a barrel." Shango gave his command, and everyone was on the move. Manic laughed as he Vaylora formed into a System in the sky. Psionic chains rained down, binding and limiting their movements. Siren let out a gentle coo, ravaging their inner ears, causing them to become disoriented, some going completely limp.

Mirage, now standing on a platform of light in the sky, pulled out his foldable sniper rifle. The Systems etched into its sides lit up. He pulled the trigger,

"Judgment." He called out the System's name. Instead of a beam of light, it was more akin to a pillar. A massive ray pierced through a Leviathan, ripping it in two. The beam of light was followed by Bumi's laughter. He charged forward through the air, using gathered sea salt as footholds. His giant salt hammer smashed down on the head of another. The hammer then burst into crystallized shards that ravaged other Leviathans nearby.

Manic then joined in as he began to use those chains to fling the massive Sea Serpents through the air, like fish dangling on hooks. The camera panned back around to Siren and Shango, who still remained watching calmly from the hovercraft, like parents watching their children in a park. The Leviathans could control the weather and were trying their best to rain lightning down on their attackers. However, Shango had already created a protective dome over the area, and the harsh winds and lightning clashed helplessly against it.

Suddenly, the sea exploded behind them, a Leviathan, several times larger than any other that had shown itself so far, loomed over Shango and Siren. It reeled its head back to let out a roar that could deafen them, but all there was nought but silence. Siren's index finger was placed gently over the front of her mask.

Shango looked at the beast as it opened its mouth again. This time, the crackling of lightning formed as it expelled a torrent of lightning from his gullet. Shango lazily pointed a finger in its direction, a System formed at the tip of his finger. A wave of vibration burst forth, ripping through the Lightning, and continued unimpeded towards the leviathan.

As that vibration touched the creature, its very atoms were shaken apart. Reducing the massive creature to nothing before the eyes of the entire world. All of this happened so fast that not even Mirage, Bumi, and Manic had noticed. As was made obvious by Manic's outburst,

"HAHAHAH!!! I got the biggest one!" He shouted as the body of a Leviathan was hanging in his chains.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about? The one I killed was bigger." Bumi cursed.

"Yeah, WAS, you blew away half the body. SO mine's bigger!" Manic countered.

"That's not how that works, Manic." Mirage took Bumi's side.

Manic, feeling outnumbered, quickly changed the subject.

"Doesn't matter. Shango didn't catch anything, so he has to pay anyway." Manic said proudly.

Mirage and Bumi looked at Shango with cocky grins. Only Siren and the people watching at home knew the truth. Siren was about to tell the boys, but Shango held up his hand and said,

"Yeah, yeah… I'll buy your food, let's go home."

The world roared with laughter on one screen—Leviathans falling like toys, Manic's voice echoing in every home. But elsewhere, in the blizzard, laughter had no place. Humanity's laughter froze in its throat as another feed surged to the forefront: Amaterasu's blades carving light into darkness, the Hoarder turning mountains of snow to rivers of blood. The Conductor rained bolts of judgment on these snowy monsters. Where Team Michael inspired joy, Team Watabe demanded reverence.

And then, the camera shifted.

Mythara moved through the whiteout. His teleportations were blinks of light swallowed by a storm. He cut past stragglers without slowing—one vanished with each pull of a trigger in a beam of kinetic energy. He mowed through them like brittle blades of grass. He did not see them as threats, not even roadblocks. They were as inconsequential as the falling snow. He was hunting something greater.

The storm thickened. The snow itself trembled. A figure loomed, more than twice the size of the others, its body armored with layers of frozen hide. Antlers of ice jutted from its skull, crackling with the storm's fury. The Abominable leader. It raised one arm, and the blizzard bent to its will. Avalanches poured from the cliffsides and leapt into the air as if they had a mind of their own. The storm roared until even the cameras faltered, static crawling across the feed.

Still, Mythara's voice carried, calm and cutting:

"There you are."

The giant bellowed, swinging a fist large enough to smash towers. Mythara didn't dodge. He held up his gun barrel at the creature's fist and fired. The fist, layered in ice, did not slow and carried forward. Then Mythara vanished. For a heartbeat, the cameras lost him—and then re-caught him, feet in front of the creature. That mighty fist had missed its target, but caused an upheaval that devastated everything in its path, even reducing some of its own kind into a mist of blood, just from the power of the missed blow's shockwave.

Mythara aimed another shot at its chin. Its skull, layered in abnormally thick ice, reeled back as it tumbled through the snow. The Abominable Leader let out an enraged roar as the storm began to gather around his person. The entire area was affected as the snow and wind gathered. The other Snowmen stopped in their tracks, some began to flee, ignoring the battle, for fear of what was to come.

Mythara was undeterred. His guns faded away as a scythe appeared in his hand. He rested it on his shoulder as a System began to form on the surface of the weapon. His draconic eyes glimmered rose-gold. The Abominable Leader roared as a System formed over the gathering of ice and wind that hovered over his palms. It extended its arms and called out in a tongue no human would understand.

An apocalyptic burst of wind and ice headed towards Mythara. He twirled his scythe and whispered the name of his System.

"Sever…" With what appeared to be a gentle slash. He cut through the coming storm, causing it to peter out with a whimper. That horizontal slash, carried forward, ripped through not just the Immominable Leader, but the mountains behind him, and it carried into the clouds above.

Silence reigned.

The feed lingered on Mythara standing alone in the snowfall, rose-gold eyes glowing in the ruins of a storm that no longer obeyed its master. The remaining Snowmen began to cower. Mythara looked over his shoulder at them, and they all dropped to their knees when they stared into those dragonic eyes. Billions of watchers felt their breath catch in unison.

Gods walk among us.

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