Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

"No effective means of killing him? Are we just going to sit here while he hauls our Airborne Aircraft Carriers into space?"

"Then it's over."

"The war just started, and we've already lost—to Superman."

Pierce paced furiously across the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room. Representatives from various nations observed in silent contempt, watching him unravel.

Suddenly, Pierce stopped in his tracks, eyes blazing with an idea.

"We still have nuclear weapons. Rumlow, detonate all onboard hydrogen bombs. Blow that bastard out of the sky!"

Rumlow's face paled. "Sir, we're still onboard the Airborne Aircraft Carrier. If the nukes go off, we die too."

"You will die, yes," Pierce replied smoothly, "but your death will be meaningful." He smiled, eerily calm. "Rumlow, do you remember the slogan you've always shouted? Say it again."

Rumlow hesitated, then muttered, "...Hail HYDRA."

"We've chanted that for generations. Cut off one head, two more will rise. Your sacrifice today ensures Hydra's future. New Rumlows will follow you."

Pierce slammed his hand down.

"Detonate. All of them. Soldiers, rejoice. Even Superman will fall because of your bravery!"

Rumlow stood frozen, trying to process the order, but then snapped into action.

"Yes, Officer."

He cut the transmission.

---

Aboard the Aircraft Carrier.

Rumlow turned to his team and forced a smile.

"Superman's not someone we can defeat. The Officer's ordered a tactical retreat."

In an instant, dozens of guns turned on him.

"Damn," he muttered. "I knew it."

He lunged at the nearest soldier, but the hail of gunfire was merciless.

When it was over, seven bodies, including Rumlow's, lay on the floor.

He wasn't Captain America. He didn't stand a chance.

Once the internal rebellion was dealt with, the highest-ranking Hydra operative left standing took command.

"All nukes ready. Detonate in one minute."

His voice was empty, emotionless, as if death no longer mattered.

Just then, Malrick, clad in his Superman armor, appeared in the command center like a ghost.

"Don't mind me," he said casually, "just picking up some samples."

He scooped up two Skrull corpses and vanished again.

"Agent M, send someone to retrieve the Skrulls. Move fast."

His voice echoed through the room long after he was gone.

The Hydra soldiers exchanged stunned glances. But then, wordlessly, they resumed preparing for detonation.

---

High above Earth.

Agent K, still streaming live from her armor cam, caught up with Malrick.

He had resumed his stance, arms extended, carrying the massive Aircraft Carrier farther from Earth's surface.

The Skrull bodies had already been delivered to the Sky Fortress.

The moment Malrick reappeared on camera, the bullet chat exploded.

"Superman! My Superman!"

"He's almost at the Kármán line! That altitude is insane!"

"Strength, speed, missile-resistance... he's the real deal."

"Do we even have Kryptonite on Earth? He's unstoppable!"

"He's gonna get nuked. No one survives a hydrogen bomb."

"He's sacrificing himself… Damn Hydra!"

Wind howled through the broadcast feed, whipping against Agent K's armor.

The whole world listened to that wind.

They watched in silence as Malrick, a solitary figure, held up the Aircraft Carrier like a titan, pushing it toward space—toward certain death.

Even the skeptics fell quiet.

The image burned itself into history.

Even if Malrick perished in the explosion, even decades later, people would remember.

They would remember this moment—above Warsaw, as a man in a Superman suit rose alone into the skies, holding the lives of millions in his hands, wrapped in sunlight and clouds.

The bullet chat went dead.

The stream fell into absolute silence.

Then, without warning, the Carrier erupted.

A flash of white light detonated from the ship like a second sun, expanding with terrifying speed.

The hydrogen bomb had been triggered.

The explosion bloomed across the sky, consuming everything.

The fireball surged upward, vaporizing everything within range, even satellites caught in its radius suffered from electromagnetic shockwaves and radiation.

The live feed scrambled and cut out.

Agent K's armor, built by Tony Stark and reinforced to survive extreme radiation, managed to keep recording—but only barely. Her equipment flickered, systems rebooting under the EMP pulse.

Still, the footage was intact.

But Agent K didn't care about the gear. Her eyes were locked on the inferno above her.

She stared upward, heart racing.

Then, a shift in the air.

A hurricane tore through the skies, sweeping away the mushroom cloud, scattering smoke and flame with violent force.

From the center of the blast, Malrick emerged—unharmed.

---

Back online, the blacked-out stream suddenly lit up again.

"Is he okay?"

"He's alive, right?"

"He's gotta be okay. God wouldn't take Superman."

"He's one of us—he's from our homeland. Our hero!"

"Shut up with that nationalist garbage! He just saved the world!"

"I told you... I told you he wouldn't survive this."

"He's more than a man. He's the Holy Spirit, reborn. He is the future!"

The comments were frantic, desperate, hopeful, combative.

The stream cut again. Then the homepage vanished. Panic spread.

Some believed Superman had died. Sorrow flooded the internet.

At S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, even Pierce paused, watching the screen go black.

He stood silent for a beat, then burst into laughter.

But a few minutes later, a new video appeared.

[Rising Tide: Superman Returns]

Millions clicked.

And then...

The cheer was global.

"He's alive!"

"He's completely unscathed!"

"My God—he really is Superman!"

Across cities, across time zones, people poured into the streets.

Strangers embraced. Neighbors wept together.

In Warsaw, the reaction was seismic.

Hands rose into the air—calloused hands, delicate ones, young, old, clean, stained with soot or ink or oil.

All of them raised fists, flags, phones, whatever they had, and shouted.

"SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN!"

The cheers were thunder.

People danced, screamed, dropped to their knees, burst into tears.

Joy, gratitude, and sheer awe surged through the streets like electricity.

They had lived.

They had been saved.

And the world would never forget who saved them.

---