The hospital hallway smelled sharper after death.
Not because anything had changed. Staff rushed past, voices low but urgent. Curtains were drawn. Doors were shut. Procedures swallowed chaos with practiced efficiency.
But something had changed.
I stood outside Hana’s room while they worked inside, hands stained with blood that was not mine and could not be undone. Tatsuya spoke quietly with officials at the far end of the corridor, already converting catastrophe into information.
I watched the window.
Empty.
Moloch had not fled.
He had left.
A nurse slowed as she passed me, recognition flickering into fear before she forced herself to look away. That look lingered.
Tatsuya returned to my side. “Evacuations are underway. Bomb squads too. No confirmations yet.”
“He doesn’t bluff,” I said.
“No,” Tatsuya agreed. “He doesn’t need to.”
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then every screen froze.
Phones. Tablets. Monitors. Wall displays. Even medical panels dissolved into white.
My phone vibrated in my hand, already active.
A voice spoke.
“Hello.”
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It echoed everywhere at once.
“In this moment,” the voice continued calmly, “every person in this world can hear me.”
People froze.
“My name is Moloch,” the voice said. “And I am here to take back what is rightfully mine.”
The air felt heavier, like reality itself was listening.
“I bring happiness,” Moloch said. “Not comfort. Not distraction. True happiness. The kind humanity has chased and failed to reach.”
A murmur rippled through the hall.
“But there is an obstacle.”
Silence.
“The Doom user,” Moloch said clearly.
“Miro.”
My name rang across the world.
“He wields a magic that should not exist,” Moloch continued. “A power that breaks every law of the universe simply by being used.”
The screens filled with distorted footage. Reality cracking. Space folding. Doom in motion, framed and terrifying.
“This power is unstable. Unchecked. Dangerous.”
People stepped back from me.
“I want him stopped,” Moloch said. “Dead or alive. I am flexible.”
The words were casual.
That made them worse.
“If he succeeds,” Moloch continued, “you keep your pain. Your loss. Your fear.”
“But if he fails,” Moloch said softly, “I will take responsibility for your happiness.”
The screens went black.
Sound returned in a rush.
Shouting.
Panic.
Then fingers pointed.
“There.”
I moved.
Hands grabbed at me. Not soldiers.
People.
Fear twisted into resolve. Someone screamed my name.
“Miro!”
Doom surged, instinct screaming to tear reality open.
I stopped it.
I reached into my pocket.
The coin was cold.
I flipped it and screamed the name into the world.
“God-Flash Doom!”
Reality broke free.
Chains snapped. Weight vanished. Resistance died.
I moved.
The crowd froze as I passed through them, faces stretched in shock. Air screamed. Concrete cracked. Distance collapsed into irrelevance.
I was faster than consequence.
Stronger than physics.
For stolen moments, I was untouchable.
Then the time ended.
Pain detonated.
Every nerve screamed as Doom collected its tax. My vision blurred. I hit the ground hard in an alley, blood flooding my mouth.
Heal.
Again.
Again.
Mana burned as fast as I could pull it, barely holding my body together. My heart stuttered. Consciousness flickered.
Stay awake.
The coin slipped from my fingers.
I stared at it, shaking.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Screens across the world lit up again.
News anchors spoke my name.
“Miro.”
Footage replayed.
Speculation exploded.
Headlines formed.
Reality-Breaking Mage Identified
Global Threat or Misunderstood Weapon
Who Is Miro
I pressed my back to the wall, healing myself just enough to stay conscious.
Moloch had not declared war.
He had introduced me.
And the world was already deciding what I was allowed to be.
