High above the clouds, a comrcial airliner cruised steadily through the sky. From the outside, it looked no different from any other flight—smooth, level, calm. But inside the cabin, fear and panic spread like smoke.
"Don’t move..."
"Anyone who so much as twitches is gonna regret it..."
Ard hijackers with M16s controlled the entire plane. One of them frowned, his eyes tense and worried, like he was afraid of sothing even worse than the passengers.
"Holander will co save us."
A little girl—seven or eight—whispered the words timidly, staring at the gunn.
"No. He won’t. Nobody is coming to save you."
The hijacker heard her and snapped his head toward her, glaring as he spoke in a low, vicious voice.
"Shh..."
The girl’s mother pulled her close, covering her mouth with trembling hands, then looked up at the hijacker with pleading eyes.
"She’s just a kid..."
All around them, countless passengers watched that suffering mother and daughter—yet not a single person dared to stand up. n and won, old and young... everyone was terrified.
"Even kids pay for what they say."
The hijacker reached into his pocket and drew a knife, like he intended to teach the "mouthy one" a lesson she wouldn’t forget.
Boom!
Just as he was about to act, the whole aircraft shuddered. The next second, startled screams burst from first class.
"Huh?!"
The hijacker instinctively twisted around, staring down the aisle that led to the front.
A man walked toward them.
He wore a blue, skin-tight suit, a cape patterned like the Stars and Stripes, blond hair, and a tall, powerful fra that filled the corridor like a wall.
"Shit..."
The hijacker’s eyes went wide, because the man approaching was the one person he least wanted to see.
Holander.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk~"
"If I were you, I wouldn’t play with toys like that in front of children."
Holander’s tone was relaxed, almost amused. He didn’t look like soone here to rescue people—he looked like soone here to perform, to show off.
Bzzzt...
He didn’t give the hijacker a chance to answer. His eyes lit up with a harsh crimson glow.
"Aah—!"
The hijacker felt the knife in his hand heat up fast. He yelped and dropped it, staring at his palm—skin blistered and red like it had been branded—hissing through clenched teeth in agony.
"Die!"
Queen Maeve seized the opening. The instant he focused on his burned hand, she surged forward and punched him hard enough to slam him to the floor.
At the sa ti, Holander casually dealt with the other hijackers as if they were nothing.
"You’re all safe now!"
After taking them down, Holander planted his hands on his hips and addressed the passengers, checking on them like a hero on cara. Calm. Handso. Effortless. Radiating confidence so strongly it swept the cabin.
Clap clap clap...
"Holander, you’re my idol!"
"Holander, that was amazing!"
"Holander! As long as you’re here, evil can’t run wild!"
The cabin erupted into thunderous applause. More than a hundred passengers praised him at once.
"This is what I’m supposed to do."
"No need to thank ."
"I’m like the flag behind —I will always protect you."
Holander raised his left hand, waving to everyone like he was greeting fans.
"Holander... it sounds like there’s still one of their people in the cockpit..."
While Holander soaked in the cheers, Queen Maeve stood and moved to his side, leaning close to his ear. She’d just learned from the subdued hijackers that there was another accomplice up front, holding the pilots hostage.
"Alright."
Holander nodded lightly.
"Looks like there’s still a little rat hiding sowhere. But don’t worry—I’ll drag him out."
He straightened his chest and spoke to the passengers with practiced confidence.
"We believe in you, Holander!"
The passengers shouted back imdiately.
"Of course."
Holander smiled, turning away and leaving them with the "heroic" silhouette of his back.
Bang!
He reached the cockpit door and, without hesitation, punched straight through it. The door exploded inward, tal bending and splintering as he stepped in like he owned the plane.
"What—?!"
Inside the cockpit, the hijacker’s heart nearly burst. His pulse hamred. Adrenaline flooded his body. Sweat poured down his forehead.
"Relax. Relax."
Holander smiled at him, voice soft and reassuring... and then his eyes flared red.
The blazing crimson beam flashed.
In an instant, it killed the hijacker.
And in the sa instant, it also sliced through the captain behind him—and tore the entire control console apart, reducing it to sparking wreckage.
"What are you doing?!"
Queen Maeve stared at the cockpit—at the dead hijacker, the dead captain, and the ruined controls—her eyes wide with disbelief. She couldn’t understand what Holander had just done.
"Heh..."
"I’m sorry, but they were too close together."
Holander shrugged, expression calm, with no real regret in it at all... as if this had been planned from the start.
"Maeve, we need to leave."
He stepped closer and spoke quietly.
"You an we’re just going to abandon the lives of over a hundred passengers?!"
Queen Maeve’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t believe Holander had sunk to this level.
"Listen. It’s not that I don’t want to save them—it’s that I can’t."
Holander pointed a finger right at her face.
"Can’t?! Why?!"
"You can fly out and hold the plane up!"
Maeve jabbed toward the cockpit window.
"Fuck! I can’t hold up a plane. That isn’t remotely scientific. Either the plane breaks apart, or I punch straight through it."
He snarled, furious—like she’d just insulted him. He wasn’t Magneto. How the hell was he supposed to "hold" a plane?
"Then make trip after trip and carry everyone down!"
Maeve shot back.
"You want to do a hundred and twenty-three runs? Don’t fucking kid !"
Holander dragged a hand through his hair. He cared about his image.
"Right now, there’s only one thing we can do."
He turned and walked out of the cockpit, heading for the cabin door.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Queen Maeve pressed a hand to her face, shaking. She was in agony—furious and sick with herself because she couldn’t save the passengers.
"Holander, are you going to save us?"
"Holander, you’re not going to leave us, right?"
"Holander..."
The passengers watched him standing at the doorway and begged him with frantic voices.
"Of course! Of course I’ll save you. I won’t abandon a single one of you..."
Holander smiled at them—and then turned his head to look at Maeve.
"Maeve, hurry up. I hope you can be reasonable and not die here with these people."
He didn’t even try to hide it anymore. His voice was hoarse with excitent as he spoke to her.
"Holander, don’t leave !"
"Holander..."
Passengers stood and crowded toward him, pleading, desperate for him to take them with him.
"Fuck!"
"If any of you touch with your filthy hands, or take one more step, I’ll rip you bitches to pieces!"
Holander’s eyes ignited with a savage red glow.
"Uh..."
The passengers froze. Seeing that glow, they stumbled backward, shrinking away.
"Maeve!"
Only after he’d frightened them back did he turn fully toward Queen Maeve again.
"Hah..."
Maeve let out a helpless breath. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes.
"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..."
She was in pain. She hated herself for it. But in the end, she still walked to Holander’s side.
"Smart choice."
Holander smiled, wrapped an arm around her, and then lifted her—flying out through the doorway.
"Holander!!"
"Maeve!"
"Save us! Save us!!"
The cabin filled with screaming and wailing.
"Heh..."
Holander smiled at their cries.
And Maeve lowered her head, shaking with grief.
And then...
Just as Holander had his excuse ready—just as he was practically giddy, ready to laugh himself sick—
A black shadow rose up through the clouds below.
"Wtf..."
Holander stared, eyes widening.
"Is that... an island? A whole island flying in the sky?"
His mouth hung open. He didn’t even know what emotion fit what he was seeing.
"God! Please, save us!"
"God! Great God!"
Inside the plane, passengers clung to each other in panic, praying and sobbing, begging the heavens for a miracle.
Even so, fear and despair spread through them, drowning the cabin in hopelessness...
Until—
A deep, roaring rumble reached their ears.
The next second, the aircraft jolted violently. Passengers were thrown sideways, tumbling into seats and aisles—
And then, suddenly, everything went still.
"What happened?!"
"Did God hear our prayers?!"
No one understood. Shaking, they pressed to the windows and looked outside.
The instant they saw what was happening, everyone who looked went rigid.
"God... we landed?!"
Soone asked in disbelief.
"No! We’re still in the air..."
"There’s an island under us—it’s carrying us through the sky!"
An elderly man with gray hair stared into the clouds and spoke like he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
And beneath that floating island—supporting it with one hand—was a man dressed entirely in white.
He looked like sothing out of a myth.
A god.
"Wtf?!"
Holander gaped at the man—at the fact he could hold up an entire island with one hand, and use that island to catch a speeding plane in midair.
"This is fucking not scientific?!"
Holander cursed, furious.
"Stunned, huh?! We’re not the kind of Superman who needs things to be ’scientific’!"
The white-clad man—still holding the island aloft—smiled at Holander.
"Mother fucker!"
Holander’s face went green with rage. He’d just abandoned every person on that plane. If Freeman saved them now, how was Holander supposed to keep playing the hero?
Holander’s eyes flared red—he was going to tear the entire plane apart.
"Calm down, Holander! Look over there!"
Queen Maeve barked sharply from his arms, snapping him out of it.
Beside the white-clad "god," there were ten helicopters—news choppers from different networks—hovering in formation.
Reporters leaned out with caras, filming frantically, broadcasting live.
"Oh my God! Is that an actual god?!"
"Is that a ssenger from heaven?!"
"No! The one holding up the island is Freeman—he’s the embodint of freedom itself!"
The caras captured Freeman’s effortless, dazzling presence from every angle.
"Oh my God! I see Holander—quick! Swing the angle over! We’re going live with Holander and Freeman in the sa shot!"
A reporter spotted Holander and panned the cara toward him.
"Fuck..."
Holander looked at the lens pointed right at his face and forced the ugliest smile imaginable—waving to the viewers while cursing under his breath.
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