Chapter 46: Shadows of the League
Meanwhile, while Ethan was experimenting with his new powers, Deep beneath the earth, far removed from the neon-lit spires and bustling streets of New Geneva, lay a sanctuary of absolute silence.
It was a subterranean fortress carved out of obsidian rock, illuminated only by the cold, sterile glow of hundreds of holographic monitors.
In the center of this darkness sat the real Dr. Lannister.
He was not wearing his iconic monkey mask, nor was he clad in his spotless white lab coat. Instead, he looked every bit like an eighty-five-year-old man clinging desperately to the remnants of his mortality.
His decrepit, hunched frame was draped in a dark robe, his spotted, skeletal hands trembling violently as he clutched the armrests of his metal chair.
Cold sweat poured down his wrinkled face, dripping off his chin and onto the polished stone floor.
His rheumy, yellowed eyes were locked onto the largest holographic display in the room.
The screen was playing a loop of the New Geneva broadcast.
Over and over, the same horrifying sequence of events unfolded: the fifteen-meter-tall giant Aberrant King, his proudest Level 5 masterpiece, which had cost him years of genetic splicing and the extraction of countless God Particles being tossed helplessly into the sky like a discarded toy.
And then, him.
Imperion.
The "Only Man in the Sky" hovered cross-armed, surrounded by a terrifying, evaporating mist of crimson blood.
The video feed captured the split-second activation of Overdrive, followed by the blinding, apocalyptic flash of the Heaven-splitting slash.
The screen turned to absolute, searing white, mimicking the "second sun" that had illuminated half the Blue Star.
Click.
Lannister’s bony finger tapped a button, pausing the footage right at the moment of Ethan’s golden-blue gaze piercing through the camera lens.
Even through a recorded digital feed, the sheer, crushing pressure of that look made the old scientist’s heart stutter.
"Monstrous..." Lannister whispered, his voice cracking like dry autumn leaves.
"How is a single human vessel capable of containing such power? It defies all genetic logic. It spits in the face of the Glorious Evolution!"
He slammed a weak, skeletal fist onto the control panel, coughing wheezily.
The destruction of the Aberrant King was a devastating setback, but it was not his greatest failure.
What truly terrified Lannister was how easily Imperion had bypassed the clone’s defenses and vaporized it.
The clone had been crafted from the physical body of Sentinel’s unawakened junior brother.
The entire setup had been an exquisite masterpiece of psychological torture, designed to break the legendary "Iron Wall" of Elysium.
And yet, Sentinel had survived. Lilith had saved him. And Imperion had turned the entire televised execution into a global demonstration of his own absolute, unmatched supremacy.
"You look pathetic, Lannister la~"
A cold, mocking voice suddenly echoed through the silent chamber.
Lannister stiffened, his head snapping toward the center of the room. The space before his desk began to warp, and a colossal holographic projection flickered to life.
The figure projected was that of a woman, but her appearance was far from human.
She wore a lavish, Victorian-style dress of deep crimson and black, her porcelain-white skin looking entirely synthetic.
Strands of invisible, glowing god particle threads dangled from her fingertips, twitching rhythmically as if she were constantly manipulating an unseen orchestra.
Marionette, the Puppet Master.
Among the twelve S-class bosses who comprised the elite circle of the League of Villains, she was ranked far above Lannister’s lowly twelfth position.
"Marionette," Lannister hissed, forcing his trembling hands to steady themselves.
"To what do I owe the displeasure of your projection? If you came here to gloat about the Chimera Lab raid, you can save your breath."
"Gloat? Oh, no, my dear doctor," Marionette giggled, a sound that resembled the clattering of wooden joints.
"I am merely fascinated. You spent years boasting to the League about your ’masterpiece.’"
"You promised us that a Level 5 aberrant would easily slaughter three of Elysium’s finest and shatter the public’s faith in heroes forever."
The holographic threads around her fingers flared with a sinister purple light.
"And yet, your masterpiece was vaporized in less than ten seconds. Not only did you fail to kill Sentinel, but you also practically handed Imperion the perfect stage to cement his status as a living God."
"The Federation has lost their minds with fear pof retaliation from him, and the public is worshiping him more than ever."
"It was an anomaly!" Lannister roared, standing up from his chair, his voice cracking with hysteria.
"Imperion was suppose to die! This was my masterpeice!"
"And yet he didn’t," Marionette replied coldly, her playful demeanor instantly vanishing. Her eyes glowed with a sharp, calculating intelligence.
"However, that’s not why I’m here, I’m sure you know why."
Lannister sank back into his chair, the anger draining from his body, replaced by a cold, suffocating dread.
"What does the Leader say?" the doctor whispered, his yellow eyes wide with anxiety.
"The Leader is... intrigued," Marionette murmured, her fingers pausing their rhythmic twitching.
"But the rest of the League is becoming restless. Abyss, the King of Monsters, has already demanded permission to personally lead a horde of deep-sea beasts to flatten Sol City."
"And the Demon King of Requiem is whispering about turning the entire capital into his personal playground."
She leaned forward, her holographic image zooming closer to Lannister’s face.
"But the Leader has forbidden any rash movements. We are the chosen twelve, Lannister. We are the shadows that will inherit this world.!
"However, as long as Imperion stands in the sky, we cannot act openly. The Heaven-splitting slash was a warning to us as much as it was to the Federation."
Lannister swallowed hard.
"Then what do we do? We can’t just let him continue to grow stronger. If he breaks through level six, he will truly become untouchable."
"The Federation’s Superhero Act is our next move," Marionette smiled, her porcelain face twisting into a grotesque, sinister grin.
"Those old heads in the capital are terrified. They realize that if Elysium’s S-class heroes refuse to bow, the Federation will lose all authority."
"They are going to accelerate the Superhero Act and summon all S-class heroes to a mandatory Global Hearing."
Lannister’s eyes widened as the pieces of the puzzle began to click together. "A political trap..."
"Exactly," Marionette purred.
"We have already established deep roots within the Federation’s high councils. During the hearing, we will coordinate our efforts."
"With this, we will stretch Imperion thin, forcing him into a corner where his raw physical strength cannot save him, and let the politicians bind him in chains of his own making."
She began to fade, her holographic projection flickering as the connection prepared to sever.
"Do not fail us again, Lannister. The League has tolerated your failures because your Chimera genetic data is useful. But if you jeopardize our plans for the Global Hearing... I will personally turn your real body into my next wooden puppet."
With that final, chilling threat, the projection vanished, leaving the underground chamber in absolute silence once more.
Dr. Lannister sat alone in the dark, staring at the paused image of Imperion on the screen. His bony fingers clutched his chest, feeling the frantic, terrified beating of his old heart.
For eighty-five years, he had believed that science and the "Glorious Evolution" of mutated flesh would rule the Blue Star.
But looking at the frozen image of the world’s strongest hero, he finally understood a terrifying truth.
The greatest threat to his evolution wasn’t the Federation, nor was it the other heroes of Elysium.
It was the single, unyielding god who ruled the skies of New Geneva.