Chapter 231: View
Charlie switched his role to Deathstroke and headed to the headquarters of the notorious assassin organization, "Black Sun," for a meeting with its leadership.
The headquarters of Black Sun was hidden within a labyrinth of abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of Riverton City. The dimly lit halls echoed with the murmur of hushed conversations, the kind that carried the weight of a thousand secrets. The organization's senior members, a hardened group of men and women, gathered around a long, battered conference table that had seen many deals sealed in blood.
As Deathstroke, Charlie made a dramatic entrance. The heavy iron doors groaned as they swung open, revealing him in his full battle armor, the black-and-gold suit glinting menacingly in the low light. The room fell silent, every eye turning towards him with a mixture of fear and grudging respect. Deathstroke walked forward with slow, measured steps, his boots thudding against the concrete floor like a countdown.
Despite the reputation of these killers, it turned out that they could be surprisingly pragmatic when faced with a superior force. Deathstroke took a seat at the head of the table, and after a tense but calculated exchange of words, an agreement was reached. The leaders of Black Sun, recognizing the futility of resistance, swore their loyalty.
However, two voices rose in opposition. One, a grizzled veteran with a scar cutting across his face, reached for his weapon—only to be met with a bullet from Uncle Zhong's pistol, cleanly ending the discussion. The other dissenter, a wiry man with a knife in hand, barely had time to swing before Deathstroke's sword cut through him with a swift, precise stroke. His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Despite the sudden violence, the remaining members of Black Sun kept their composure. They understood that this was the price of doing business in their world. With the obstacles removed, the vote proceeded smoothly, and the results were unanimous. The senior leaders bowed their heads, acknowledging Deathstroke as their new leader. A tense smile played on Charlie's lips beneath the mask. Black Sun was now under his control, and the atmosphere in the room, though still tense, was oddly celebratory.
Meanwhile, across the world, in the secured halls of the Ninth Special Service Division, tensions ran high. Earth's upper echelons, including leaders from various agencies and the Ninth Division, entered a flurry of meetings. The headquarters of the Ninth Division, a sleek building nestled in the heart of Riverton City, buzzed with activity like a hive stirred by a predator's approach.
For years, the Ninth Division had been dealing with mysterious occurrences and rumors of superhuman beings. But until now, they had never had direct contact with the unknown force. The sudden communication felt like a jolt, shaking them out of their routine as they scrambled to determine their response. It was as if they had been coasting along on autopilot, only to be forced to take the controls at the last moment, uncertain of what lay ahead.
The contact wasn't entirely unexpected; the organization had been cautious but friendly so far. Any sensible official knew the importance of keeping this newfound rapport intact. Yet the sudden, tangible connection brought with it a sense of urgency.
Within a day, the delegates for the first official meeting were chosen. The group consisted of high-ranking officials from various factions, several senior members of the Ninth Division, Galadin from the Emotional Affairs Bureau, expert scientists, and a few seasoned field agents, including Ivan Petrov. None of them were armed—an intentional decision to avoid provoking their hosts.
Among the chosen agents was Ivan, a veteran whose allegiance seemed to waver. A once staunch defender of the establishment, he had become increasingly fascinated by the superhumans, particularly the figure of Batman. Some even whispered that his mind had become "bat-shaped," a reference to his newfound admiration for the vigilante. Charlie kept a wary eye on him, knowing that his loyalties might sway.
The scientists included Dr. Richard and Dr. Hines, experts from the Equipment Department of the Ninth Division. Their past work involved studying the alien-like technologies left behind by mysterious events. Now, their task was to assess just how far the visitors' technology exceeded Earth's own, and to provide a glimpse into the future humanity might face.
When Charlie reviewed the delegation list, he couldn't help but smirk. The group included an odd assortment of roles—psychiatrists, intelligence operatives, scientists, even a chef or two. It looked more like a team-building retreat than a serious diplomatic effort. He couldn't help but imagine them as a motley crew, about to be sent on a bizarre, interstellar adventure.
Nevertheless, the delegation arrived at the designated meeting spot promptly, each person showing a different response to the unknown. Some were tense, gripping their briefcases tightly. Others had a spark of curiosity in their eyes, eager to see what awaited them. A few shifted from foot to foot, nervously glancing around the barren landscape.
The location sent by the mysterious organization was a desolate clearing on the outskirts of Riverton City. The human side had conducted extensive reconnaissance of the area beforehand. Drones had swept the area, but no signs of hidden bases or concealed entrances were found. It appeared to be nothing more than an empty field, a place where weeds and tall grasses swayed in the wind.
The delegates gathered there, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on them. The sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the dry ground. They exchanged uneasy glances, wondering what form this meeting would take. The minutes crawled by, each second feeling longer than the last as they waited.
Then, as the second hand clicked over to the twelve, everything changed.
A beam of blinding white light shot down from the sky, enveloping them in an instant. The delegation barely had time to react before their vision was overwhelmed, leaving them momentarily blinded.
What followed defied all known science.
As their sight returned, the delegates were struck by the horror of their bodies beginning to dissolve. They watched, wide-eyed, as their hands broke apart into streams of light, evaporating from fingertips to wrists. It was as if their entire beings—skin, muscles, bones—were disassembled, stripped down to their smallest components and absorbed into the luminous column.
Yet, there was no pain, no sense of disorientation. The process was utterly painless, almost serene. One of the delegates blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he had already missed the entire transformation. He hadn't even felt his body vanishing.
The entire process lasted barely a heartbeat. The white light vanished as quickly as it had appeared. When the blinding glow faded, the world around them shifted and blurred, leaving their senses spinning. But as their vision steadied, they found themselves in a new and unfamiliar place.
They stood on a massive platform made of sleek, cold metal, surrounded by intricate machinery that hummed with power. The platform faced a spacious hall, its walls made of transparent panels that offered a breathtaking view of the cosmos beyond.
One of the bolder members of the delegation took a tentative step forward, approaching the glass edge. As he looked out, the sight before him caused his heart to lurch in his chest, the word "Holy..." dying on his lips.
Spread out before them was a starry expanse, an endless ocean of stars that glittered against the dark void of space. The scene was awe-inspiring, a view that seemed to stretch on forever, as if the stars themselves were beckoning them into the infinite.
On the opposite side of the room, another porthole revealed a different sight. There, hanging like a delicate, cerulean orb, was Earth. Its familiar blue and green swirled with clouds, fragile and isolated against the vastness of the universe.
Realization struck like a thunderbolt, leaving the delegates speechless. They were in space—far above Earth's surface, staring down at their home planet.
As the enormity of this realization sank in, each person grappled with a flood of thoughts, questions, and a sense of profound insignificance. If this was space, then what exactly were they standing on?
A spacecraft?
The idea sent shivers through the group. Throughout human history, the concept of extraterrestrial life and space travel had been a dream, a possibility. Yet, here they were, standing aboard a vessel beyond anything they had ever imagined.
Almost immediately, thoughts turned to the early speculations—rumors that these superheroes were not of this world, that their origins might lie beyond Earth. Seeing the spaceship confirmed those fears and dreams, making the legends real in a way that none of them had truly believed before.
And yet, even the spaceship wasn't the most mind-blowing part. The realization that chilled their bones was how they had arrived there.
In less than a second—perhaps even a fraction of a blink—they had been transported from the ground to this alien vessel, effortlessly. A technology so advanced, it made their understanding of physics and space travel seem like child's play.
Is this... technology?
---
"Only 15 days left until SWB is fully translated on P@treon! Get ahead and dive into the story now at [p@treon.com/OneSword](http://p@treon.com/OneSword)!"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone