Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

Joy and celebration belong to ordinary people.

But for Hydra, and even for the top officials of major world powers, Superman's unscathed emergence from a nuclear blast—one with a ten-million-ton yield—was like a thunderclap out of nowhere.

Even humanity's most terrifying weapon couldn't touch him.

Superman could now do whatever he wanted on Earth.

The only thing they could rely on to restrain him were abstract concepts like morality and emotions.

The live stream was quickly cut off.

But satellites from every major country were still watching.

He floated just above the boundary of Earth's atmosphere, and as the overhead imagery displayed his calm figure, the hearts of those watching sank.

In SHIELD Headquarters, Director Alexander Pierce's face darkened with dread.

Others feared the future. Pierce feared he no longer had one.

"Where did this Superman come from?!"

"He must die today! Keep firing!"

"Aim the remaining two Helicarriers' nukes at him—launch everything!"

He screamed, veins bulging on his forehead. "There's no way he can take another hit! He's just bluffing, I know it!"

Suddenly, Superman moved in the satellite footage.

He looked down at Earth, scanning as if searching for something.

Then, like a meteor, he dove toward the atmosphere.

"What is he doing? Track him! Get me every camera on him!" Pierce barked.

Malrick—no longer hiding his intent—slowed his descent deliberately so the satellites could keep up.

Eventually, he hovered above Hydra's base in Poland.

A dense forest surrounded the facility. No civilians for miles.

From the satellite feed, Pierce recognized the location instantly.

"The Polish base... Madame Hydra is there. Damn it, is he really going to wipe us all out?"

He gritted his teeth.

Inside the base, Madame Hydra stared up at the figure hovering in the sky, her face pale.

"Pierce, that idiot... only good at making things worse."

"Quick! Establish communication! Tell Superman not to act rashly—we can talk, we surrender!"

She wasn't being dramatic. She understood the situation perfectly. Surrender was the only option now.

Besides, if she could get close to Superman, perhaps Hydra's defeat wouldn't be the end.

She was confident in her charm. No man had ever been able to resist her.

But before her message could be relayed...

Superman moved.

The satellites caught everything.

World leaders rose to their feet, eyes fixed on the screen.

Superman pulled his right arm back—almost casually.

It didn't even look like he was gathering strength. More like flexing his bicep before a throw.

Then, without warning, he punched.

His figure flickered across the screen like he had teleported, and the blow landed before anyone could react.

Boom.

The impact resembled a localized apocalypse.

Satellites recorded the punch in brutal clarity.

The earth beneath Hydra's base disintegrated like powdered rock struck by a meteorite.

Shockwaves tore through the ground, radiating from Superman in every direction—hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of meters away, the land shattered, sank, and exploded.

A second later, debris and smoke tore through the air, and the invisible shockwave flattened the terrain in concentric circles.

Hydra's base, once a fortified installation, crumbled like paper under a tidal wave.

And all of this happened in an instant.

By the time most viewers blinked, the screen was nothing but smoke.

The debris cloud stretched ten kilometers in every direction.

"The shockwave alone is more devastating than a medium hydrogen bomb..." someone muttered, their throat dry.

"That wasn't even his full strength. I tracked the data—his highest speed was over 100 miles per second, but that punch only hit 11. If he went all-out... it'd be another Tunguska-level event."

"This isn't a man," a researcher whispered, "This is a god."

"The Earth belongs to him now..." another said blankly.

Invincible defense, overwhelming strength, speed faster than the eye can follow.

No weapon could stop him.

Suddenly, a hurricane-force wind ripped through the cloud on the screen.

Superman had blown the debris away.

He floated above what used to be Hydra's Polish base. Now, it was a smoldering crater.

Within a five-kilometer radius, the ground had caved in by meters.

Jagged rock formations, shattered debris, and scorched rubble spread in every direction.

It looked like a meteorite had actually struck the Earth.

There were no words left. Just one: catastrophe.

Global leaders stared at the hovering figure, cape billowing in the wind, as he surveyed the wreckage of what was once Hydra.

No trace of the base remained.

No bodies.

No ashes.

He could've used a scalpel—but instead, he chose a warhammer.

They wiped the sweat from their brows, muttering in disbelief. "All that... for a Hydra base?"

Fear wrapped around their hearts like a noose.

Superman folded his arms and nodded—satisfied.

The base was isolated. Perfect for a demonstration.

He had made his point.

Then, he shot upward and vanished from every satellite feed.

---

At SHIELD Headquarters...

Pierce collapsed into his chair.

"This is insane," he muttered. "The whole world's gone insane. He really is Superman—and we don't have Kryptonite."

He stared blankly at the screen, body stiff with shock.

Just an hour ago, he had been full of confidence, ready to steer Hydra to global domination.

Now, Superman—someone he'd dismissed as a joke—had reduced his entire operation to dust.

Hydra was finished. And so was he.

But he wasn't ready to accept that.

His face, wrinkled like old bark, twitched as he staggered to his feet and connected to the remaining Helicarriers.

"Fire on San Francisco and Sokovia. Launch everything. All hydrogen bombs—detonate them."

He'd lost his mind.

He'd bet everything—and lost. The gambler in him wanted to burn the table down.

"Alexander Pierce! Are you insane?! That's millions of lives!" one of the delegates shouted.

"Insane?" Pierce laughed coldly. "You think I'm insane?"

"This whole world's gone mad. That thing up there—Superman—is the biggest lunatic of all!"

"He wants to be a savior? Fine! Let's see him save two cities at once."

"I'm going to crown him king of the world... if he can survive what I throw at him."

He began laughing.

At first softly, almost like weeping.

Then louder and louder, manic, echoing across the empty room.

The foreign representatives tied up against the wall could only listen, their faces pale.

Pierce had snapped.

He hadn't broken when Nick Fury took him down in the past—because he knew his enemy then. It made sense.

But now, everything felt like chaos.

Hydra was exposed without warning. Their tech was hijacked. And Superman—an unknown player—was suddenly the world's most powerful being.

Pierce couldn't even figure out who he was fighting.

It felt like fate itself had turned against Hydra.

He had no hope left.

So he chose madness.

If he had to lose, then he'd take the world with him.

If this were the DC universe, maybe he really would have turned into the Joker by now.

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