The moment Ethan appeared, the snipers locked on and pulled their triggers.

But he vanished in a blink, reappearing over thirty feet ahead, dodging every bullet cleanly. Without slowing, he sprinted downhill toward the enemy. The distance was still too far for a direct [Teleportation], so he had to close the gap manually.

Down below, the attackers weren't giving up. Another AT-4 was hoisted onto a shoulder, aimed straight at the dirt wall Garrick had raised.

Whoosh—

The rocket screamed through the air, heading straight for the squad.

But halfway up, it suddenly veered off course—again—and turned back toward the attackers.

"Goddammit!" Caleb Harlan cursed, nearly choking on his own rage.

"Get down!"

The crowd scattered, diving for cover.

BOOM!

Another deafening explosion rocked the hillside. A fresh crater tore open the ground, and dozens more were blown to pieces.

"Holy shit! Did Mayor Marks give us defective gear?!" someone shouted in panic.

Caleb was losing it. "What the hell kind of rocket turns around mid-air?!"

Meanwhile, Ethan had paused for a split second to redirect the rocket—and that moment cost him.

Bang! Bang!

Two sniper rounds slammed into him.

These weren't standard rounds—they were high-caliber, armor-piercing sniper shots. Even Ethan couldn't shrug those off.

One hit his shoulder. The other punched into his chest.

Both rounds buried deep, pain flaring like fire through his body. Ethan gritted his teeth hard enough to crack enamel.

But this wasn't the time to flinch.

He pushed forward, weaving through the gunfire, closing the distance. When he was about 300 feet from the enemy line, he activated [Teleportation] again.

In an instant, he appeared in the middle of the enemy formation.

The barbell bar in his hands spun like a storm.

Bodies dropped.

"Shit! He's down here! Kill him!" Caleb shouted, but there was no fear in his voice—just cold command.

Heavy machine guns were dragged out and opened fire, spraying bullets wildly, not caring who else got caught in the crossfire.

"Damn, you guys really don't care about friendly fire," Ethan muttered.

Then he vanished again.

He reappeared right in the middle of the machine gunners.

That earlier decision—to wait until he was within 300 feet before teleporting—had paid off. If he'd used all his mental energy on a long-range jump, he wouldn't have had enough left for this second one.

Now, with just enough juice left, he made it count.

He struck fast and hard, taking out every gunner in seconds. Then he turned his barbell bar on the weapons themselves, smashing the barrels until they bent like pretzels.

"Fuck!" Caleb roared, then shouted over his shoulder, "Move in!"

Dozens of Tier 5 Enhanced soldiers surged forward, combat knives flashing.

They'd come prepared. No question.

But they still underestimated the Fallen Star Squad.

Dozens of Tier 5s was no joke—but they were up against Ethan, whose overall power had already surpassed the peak of Tier 6.

He swung the barbell bar in a wide arc. The first few Enhanced who charged him were sent flying like rag dolls.

He didn't stop.

The weapon spun and slammed, a blur of steel and blood. The Tier 5s couldn't even get close.

And the Tier 4s? They might as well have been paper dolls. One hit was all it took.

Elsewhere, Chris had already locked onto the snipers.

Moving fast under the cover of invisibility, he crept up behind the first one. A quick slash of his dagger—clean, silent, lethal.

The sniper dropped without a sound.

Chris didn't pause. He was already moving to the next.

One by one, the snipers fell—never seeing it coming, never feeling a thing.

With the sniper threat fading, Garrick and the others charged down the hill.

And this time, the Fallen Star Squad showed the world what real terror looked like.

Sean stopped holding back. His arms morphed into solid metal, and he charged into the crowd, swinging wildly. Every blow landed with a sickening crunch—blood sprayed, bones shattered, bodies burst apart like overripe fruit. Anyone who got hit was done for.

His current ability was a far cry from what Ray used to have. Even if someone recognized the resemblance, it had been so long that no one would connect the dots.

Elsewhere, the ground suddenly gave way beneath a group of enemies—over a dozen of them dropped into a pit. Before they could react, a massive boulder slammed down from above, sealing the hole shut.

"Damn, that's pro-level," someone muttered, watching Garrick's move with wide eyes.

Henry, who'd always been the team's healer, was finally cutting loose with his new offensive ability. Black beams of energy shot from his hands, piercing through skulls like paper. His [Void Beam] had insane penetration—one shot could take out multiple enemies in a line.

He was having the time of his life.

Big Mike wasn't holding back either. Fireballs flew in every direction, lighting up the battlefield. Now that he finally had an ability, he was going all in. In no time, the area around him looked like a wildfire had broken out.

Only Skinny Pete looked a little frustrated. His charm ability wasn't exactly ideal for a full-on brawl.

Still, it wasn't useless. Every time someone rushed at him with a weapon, one glance from him would leave them dazed and frozen in place—easy pickings.

Caleb stood frozen, watching the chaos unfold, completely dumbfounded.

Weren't there supposed to be only three Awakened? And just one Tier 6?

What the hell was this?

Every single one of them was Awakened—and most of them were Tier 6 or higher.

"Fuck this! What are we even doing here?! This is a goddamn suicide mission!"

He finally realized the truth: this squad's strength was way beyond anything they'd been told. There was no way they could win.

Caleb mentally cursed out the entire intelligence team and their ancestors, then gritted his teeth.

"Retreat!"

The enemy forces didn't need to be told twice. They bolted, scattering in every direction like terrified rats.

They'd come in thinking they were the hunters. Now they realized they were the prey—lambs tossed into a den of wolves.

Ethan's voice rang out, cold and sharp. "What, you think you can just show up and leave like this is your backyard?"

"Kill them all!"

The squad surged forward, chasing down the fleeing enemies without mercy.

This time, they weren't letting anyone off easy.

"Garrick, hold up a sec."

Garrick was in the middle of smashing someone's face in when he heard Ethan call out. He jogged over, still catching his breath. "What's up, boss?"

"Dig a pit. We're burying those heavy machine guns and the two AT-4s. We'll come back and haul them home later."

"On it!" Garrick nodded, slapped a hand to the ground, and the earth caved in, forming a deep pit.

The two of them quickly tossed the heavy machine guns and AT-4 launchers inside.

Just then, Chris ran over, lugging a few Barrett M82 sniper rifles on his back. "Add these too. These babies hit like a truck."

"Hell yeah," Ethan said, eyes lighting up.

Once everything was stashed, Garrick pressed his hand to the ground again. The pit sealed up like it had never been there.

"Man, your ability's crazy useful," Ethan said, impressed.

"Haha, I think so too."

"Alright, let's move. Time to show these bastards we're not the kind of people you mess with."

"Hell yeah!"

...

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