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When the soldiers tried to confirm what they’d just seen and looked again through their binoculars, the figure suspected to be Superman had already disappeared.
At the sa ti, massive booms rang out in succession—like countless fighter jets breaking the sound barrier in rapid bursts.
Superman had a good plan: keep the destruction below a certain threshold, and ideally lure Void away from densely populated areas.
But too many people knew the comic version of Superman—his personality, his weaknesses, his behavioral code. Void ignored the openings ant to bait him away and instead did everything he could to remain within the forest of skyscrapers.
The battle thus beca one-sided: one fighter restrained at every turn, the other utterly unrestrained.
Because he feared causing collateral damage, the angles and directions from which Superman could attack were limited. Having seen through this, Void naturally exploited the advantage.
Superman’s attacks were often blocked. In contrast, Void’s blows forced Superman to take them head-on—because if he didn’t properly absorb or redirect them, the aftermath could easily be the collapse of another building.
Despite a full day of chaos, as long as New York City hadn’t issued a full evacuation order, not everyone had fled. So ran at the first sign of danger, but others clung to a gambler’s hope, unwilling to abandon their property.
That was why these buildings hadn’t been completely cleared—people were still inside. And their presence shackled Superman further.
If this Superman had been an ordinary transmigrator in disguise, even with genuine Kryptonian powers, he might have already fought Void without restraint—tearing the heavens apart, treating any casualties as re statistics.
But he had even altered his face to resemble that iconic Superman actor. Combined with the psychological weight of the suit, this Superman might not have stepped straight out of a comic book—but he was close enough.
His moral code bound him. Ti and again, Void sent him crashing down, yet before he could smash into a building, he forced himself to halt mid-impact.
At one point, Void hit him so hard his mouth filled with blood—he nearly spat it out on the ground.
But rembering that Nick Fury’s S.H.I.E.L.D. had once secretly carried out the "Harvest Program," collecting blood samples from superheroes to form a genetic database later used by the Skrulls, Superman swallowed the blood back down.
That small act was one of the rare monts where his cautious nature—separate from Superman’s persona—surfaced.
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At so unknown count of being blasted away again, Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch finally appeared beside the battered Superman as he landed in a heap of debris.
Both had changed into their X-n-era suits. After rushing in at top speed with his sister, Pietro casually pushed his goggles up onto his forehead.
Scarlet Witch, clad in crimson from head to toe, wore a pinkish nylon underlayer like stockings, paired with a bright red, one-piece bodysuit, red boots, red gloves, and a flowing red cape—along with her signature M-shaped headpiece.
She looked exactly like her na: as if drenched in spilled red paint, striking and impossible to miss.
Though Quicksilver had left the X-n, when he was needed, he still answered the call without hesitation. He hadn’t discarded his uniform either—at the very least, it offered far better protection than everyday clothes in battle.
Looking at Superman, who had just been hamred into the ground, Scarlet Witch said,
"I thought the Sorcerer Supre was so eager to find you because once you showed up, everything would be solved. Looks like you’re not that impressive after all."
Wiping dust from his face, Superman had no interest in verbal sparring—whether with a woman or an ally. Instead, he looked at the eager Quicksilver and asked,
"How’s your physics?"
"Pretty good. Haven’t really tested how good, though. You want fighting alongside you?"
Superman stared straight at Void, who had just landed nearby. The figure was gradually shedding the appearance of the Sentry—especially the black, shadow-like tendrils writhing around him in the dim streetlight, eerie and unnatural.
Before answering, Superman kept his gaze locked on the enemy.
"Until other reinforcents arrive, you’re all I’ve got."
Quicksilver smirked, elbowing his sister. "Hear that? He says he’s relying on ."
Suddenly, Superman shouted, "Watch the shadow tendrils on the ground! Quicksilver—go. You take the left, I’ll take the right." Before his words even finished, he had already moved.
Though a fraction slower, Quicksilver entered the speed domain alongside him, flanking Sentry/Void from both sides.
As a speedster, even without sothing like the Speed Force—or Superman’s invulnerable body—Quicksilver’s physical capabilities were far from ordinary.
Just enduring the strain of instant acceleration and deceleration ant his bones, muscles, respiratory, and circulatory systems were all beyond human limits.
As he launched a supersonic punch at Void’s head mid-sprint, there was no way a being who could also operate in that extre speed domain would simply take the hit. Void was already preparing a counterattack.
If not for the simultaneous assault from the other side, Quicksilver might have been sent flying.
Superman ca in from the exact opposite direction. His punch wasn’t powered by speed alone—it carried his own terrifying strength.
Even a being with the power of a million exploding stars didn’t dare ignore that blow. Just as Void could make Superman cough up blood, if he took this punch head-on, he’d be the one spitting blood.
There was no neat nurical formula behind it—nothing like:
Sentry’s punch = 1,200 tons, durability = 800 tons; Superman’s punch = 950 tons, durability = 1,000 tons—therefore both can break each other’s defenses.
Their clash was defined more by perception than numbers.
This Superman, though his personality had grown close to that ideal paragon, still retained his knowledge as a transmigrator. He had his own internal asure of Sentry and Void’s strength—and he did not believe victory was guaranteed.
Because of that, their attacks could affect him.
As for Void, his understanding of Superman ca solely from the comics known to Robert Reynolds. He had no idea what the being before him—so identical in appearance—truly was.
That uncertainty prevented him from forming absolute confidence in his own invulnerability. And so Superman’s attacks could affect him as well.
In this clash between Sentry and Superman, Quicksilver beca a crucial variable.
Perhaps this universe’s speedster couldn’t truly harm either of them—but as long as he could influence the fight, it was enough to tip the balance of this evenly matched battle.
Superman didn’t try to dominate the fight. Instead, he played a supporting role—coordinating with Quicksilver’s attacks, sotis even covering for him.
Even so, Void couldn’t ignore Superman’s threat. From the steadily increasing weight behind his blows, Void could tell that Superman was probing for his limits. The mont those limits were exceeded would be the mont of his defeat.
As for whether such a limit could be surpassed—so long as Void couldn’t firmly believe it was impossible, then it remained possible.
And unfortunately, willpower was his weakest link.
Not to ntion the Scarlet Witch watching from afar. From her, Void sensed a familiar presence—one belonging to an old acquaintance.
A deadly one.
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