Chapter 555
“Holy hell… What am I looking at? Is that Superman p>
Inside the internet cafe, a blue-haired teenager froze in front of his monitor, shock clear on his face. His reaction drew a few friends away from their games, and they gathered around to see what had caught his eye.
They were browsing Twitter when a single clip skyrocketed to the top of the trending list, claiming the number-one spot. The caption boldly declared, ‘Superman vs. Supersonic Fighter Jet p>
The video was played below. A figure lit up in blue light sped across the screen, and as the scene unfolded, the group appeared increasingly surprised. None of them could quite accept what they were watching.
“No way that’s real. Nobody moves like that. He just smacked a jet out of the sky, didn’t he p>
More voices rose from around the gaming cafe. Almost everyone had already seen the clip that had just been pinned to the top of the trending board.
“Come on, this has to be some blockbuster trick. There’s no way it’s real. It’s a bad joke,” someone snorted.
“Exactly. Trash like this still hits number one, with people sharing it nonstop. That’s what’s truly ridiculous,” another voice shot back.
Mockery echoed through the gaming cafe, yet a few people fell silent. Those involved with cameras or editing footage moved nearer to their screens, their eyes filled with astonishment.
They knew the truth: no digital magic could produce something this realistic. The clarity was too perfect, and the movement felt too genuine.
The blast was shredding a supersonic fighter jet, with a blue streak moving faster than the eye can follow.
Everything in the clip appeared genuine, untouched, and unaltered.
This indicated that what we saw was real: a blue-lit figure had forcibly dragged ten supersonic fighter jets from the sky in a single sweeping motion, gliding effortlessly through the air.
A single thought gnawed at everyone watching.
Is this… actually Superman?
At Goldenridge Arts Academy, soft afternoon light streamed through the window of a girls’ dorm. A young woman sat on the sill with a book resting on her knees. Birds fluttered past the glass, yet her gaze never wavered from the cover: “The Craft of the Stage p>
She was Madeline.
Since joining Glorious Entertainment’s star-making machine, her ascent had been rapid and direct. Only the global diva Maeve surpassed her among Astria’s singers and movie stars. With ten albums and ninety-six songs, she was at the peak of fame.
The company had pushed for a nationwide tour. She had refused.
Her voice alone was not enough. A true concert required greater elements-mastery of stage timing, the endurance of martial arts, and a commanding presence capable of captivating an audience immediately.
After consulting her team, she decided to seek their support. She enrolled at Goldenridge Arts Academy for six months of intensive training to refine every aspect of her performance.
It had already been two weeks since she arrived.
“Madeline! You have to see this p>
She had been engrossed in her book when a roommate bounced off her bunk and rushed over barefoot, thrusting a tablet forward.
“Look! Superman p>
Madeline offered a small, helpless smile and lowered her gaze. In the next heartbeat, her pupils snapped wide, shock flaring through her eyes as her breath caught. “This p>
On the screen, a blue beam of light soared into the sky. A solitary figure hovered between the ground and clouds. Only a side profile was visible, but the recognition was immediate.
“Leander p>
Her fingers tightened around the tablet as she stared, unable to blink.
At Highcliffe University, Yvette walked along a garden path in a flowing boho dress with a friend when gentle guitar strings floated across the lawn. A young man stepped forward, singing “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran Students soon gathered, clapping along The scene looked rehearsed to perfection.
He moved straight to Yvette, dropped to one knee, and accepted a bouquet passed
in from behind.
“Yvette, give me a chance, yeah p>
Cheers rose as several girls watched with starry eyes. The singer, a campus heartthrob, was admired for his good looks, singing talent, height, and charm, making him the dream guy to most of the girls.
Yvette paused, then offered a calm smile. “Sorry. I already like someone p>
The air cracked.
The bouquet froze halfway.
Yvette and her friend walked past without slowing.
Her friend sighed, then her phone buzzed. One glance at the group chat made her
gasp. “Yvette, look at this! Is this real? Superman p>
Yvette leaned in. The moment the blue figure shot upward, her pupils shrank. “That’s Lean. What’s happening out there p>
Within half a day, the clip of Leander destroying ten fighters over the Sahar Wastes went viral. It dominated trending charts, broke click records, and continued to rise.
Names caught fire across the net-Blue Phantom, Superman, the Undying.
The footage ripped through WhatsApp chats, Telegram groups, feeds, and forums— the net split in two. One side swore it was real, while the other screamed fake. Arguments raged without pause.
One truth could no longer be denied. Leander bringing down a supersonic fighter jet had already become common knowledge across the web.
In Astria, Darrow and several
top-ranking generals rushed into an emergency video briefing. After a brief but heated exchange, they reached the same conclusion. This storm had to be cut off at the. source.
Orders went out at once.
Their influence was thrown at major search portals. Direct lines opened to WhatsApp and other leading platforms. Every side was pressed for one goal-to erase the footage, block its spread, and smother the sing attention before it burned any hotter.
No one there underestimated the danger. Once the public truly witnessed such
power, the hidden world of martial artists would no longer stay secret.
If that door opened, the age ahead would be far more unruly and divided.
Darrow shut his terminal and relaxed into his rosewood chair, with his brow
furrowed. A murmur escaped his lips.
“Leander, you need to come home now p>
His gaze hardened.
“This era is about to lose control because of you p>