The Savior of American Comics? I'm the Subspace Evil God!

Chapters 548, 1012, and 1013: [Hell] Needs a New King

The 'Reverse Mirror Captain America' that emerged from the 'Mirror of the Magic Cauldron' stood silently in place, looking exactly like the 'Real Captain America' hundreds of meters away.

However, this 'identical' quality is limited to the physical level only.

If one had to pinpoint a difference between them, it would probably be the subtle, unintentional glimpse of their true nature in their eyes—a stark contrast.

However, for those familiar with Captain America, a little careful observation of this 'imposter's' eyes should be enough to immediately distinguish between the two.
The real Steve Rogers had eyes like an unpolluted mountain lake—clear, firm, and filled with unwavering faith and respect for life.

Even in the deepest darkness, that blue hue contains a glimmer of hope.

The 'fake Captain America' who emerged from the Mirror of the Magic Cauldron before us, though his eyes were also blue, had a gaze as cold and lifeless as ice frozen for millennia beneath the polar ice caps, with undisguised violence and slaughter surging within, as well as a cruel pleasure in wantonly toying with life.

A faint, almost imperceptible, twisted smile lingered at the corners of his mouth, as if he were already engrossed in a bloody hunt.

He stood there, radiating not an inspiring aura of leadership, but a chilling, pure malice and danger.

"Hahaha... Did you see that? [Ultron]!"

[Blackheart Demon] stopped outputting energy, exhaled a long breath of foul air carrying the smell of sulfur, his face seemed even paler than before, and fine beads of sweat even seeped from his forehead.

Clearly, activating the [Magic Cauldron Mirror] had taken a huge toll, leaving him feeling somewhat tired.

But his face was filled with excitement and a smug grin. He carefully wrapped and shrank the [Magic Cauldron Mirror] with a stream of dark purple magical energy, and finally carefully put it into his pocket.

Then, pointing to the 'fake Captain America' who had just emerged from the [Mirror of the Demon Cauldron], his voice became somewhat shrill with excitement:
"This is the power of the [Mirror of the Demon Cauldron]... Unrivaled! Irresistible! All who dare to look directly at it will inevitably die a miserable death at the hands of their own 'reflection'."

"This is the irony and curse of fate!"

The more the Black-Hearted Demon spoke, the more smug he became, snapping his fingers as if he were displaying a perfect work of art.

"And now, this 'reverse mirror image' that embodies all the 'essence' of Captain America... is yours."

"Make good use of him, my ally, and maximize his value. Don't let my efforts go to waste!"

clap clap-

Standing at the back, 'Ultron' couldn't help but step forward and circle around the 'fake Captain America' who was standing quietly in place, coldly scanning his surroundings. He scanned him from head to toe with his high-precision eye sensors, then couldn't help but clap and applaud, praising him generously:
"Truly breathtaking... This is nothing short of a divine creation, Mr. Blackheart Demon... Ah no, please forgive my rudeness!"

Ultron's electronically synthesized voice even deliberately simulated a hint of apology, "Your esteemed Prince Blackheart, your power and mastery of the Dark Artifacts have given me a completely new understanding of the potential of Hell."

"I am becoming more and more convinced that you are the one destined to sit on the throne of Hell... It's time for the era of Mephisto to end!!"

This flattery was perfectly timed, and the expression of pleasure on [Blackheart Demon's] pale, bloodless face was almost overflowing.

"but……"

Ultron then shifted his tone, his inquiry becoming more pragmatic: "Your Highness, please allow me to raise a small, strategically-based technical question… about the expiration date of this extraordinary Captain America we have here!"

After a pause, as if afraid that its question might cause some unnecessary misunderstanding, it immediately added an explanation in an extremely sincere tone:

"Please don't misunderstand, I am not questioning your unfathomable magic power, nor am I doubting the powerful efficacy of this [Magic Cauldron Mirror]."

"I just need to assess all potential risks as accurately as possible in order to refine our subsequent plans..."

"After all, as you know, the [Demon Engine Legion] that we are going to build, which is powerful enough to sweep away everything, is not something that can be completed in just one or two months, in terms of its scale and the resources and time required."

"So we need to make sure that this wonderful 'interference source' can last long enough."

[Blackheart Demon] was in an excellent mood at the moment, and was very magnanimous about 'Ultron's' caution. He waved his hand and explained in an almost boastful tone:

“I know what you’re worried about, [Ultron]... Don’t worry, as long as the [Mirror of the Cauldron] itself isn’t destroyed, or I don’t use it to steal the soul imprint of the next target, then this ‘reverse mirror’ will continue to exist until…”

He grinned maliciously, revealing two rows of gleaming white teeth once more: "Until he gets killed himself."

"Of course, I think there aren't many ordinary humans in this world who could take down 'Captain America,' even if he's just a 'mirror image,' hehehehe..."

"Perfect! Now all our preparations are complete."

Ultron's synthesized voice, barely suppressed with excitement, focused its crimson-glowing eye sensors once more on the silent and dangerous Mirror Captain America, and it spoke with great enthusiasm:
"With the strong support of this 'Captain America,' we can definitely attract the attention of everyone in the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. to the greatest extent possible, keeping them busy and overwhelmed, with no time to spare for anything else."

"And by the time they finally realize what's going on and discover the truth behind it all... our grand plan will have already been completed. An invincible legion, a fusion of demons and technology, will crush all obstacles!"

"What to do next is something for you to consider, my mechanical ally."

The Blackhearted Demon crossed his arms, slightly raised his chin, and resumed the arrogant posture befitting a prince of hell. "My demand has always been, and has only been, one thing..."

"That means once those [Demon Engines] are successfully built, they must pledge 100% and unconditional loyalty to me... and obey my every command!"

A burning flame of ambition ignited in his eyes, and he declared with great boldness:

"Because I will use this army, which combines hellfire with your cutting-edge technology, to completely overthrow that troublesome old man, Mephisto, from his throne in hell, which he has sat on for far too long!"

"Hell needs a new king who is stronger, younger, and more ambitious!!"

"Of course, Your Highness."

Without a second thought, 'Ultron' immediately responded with the utmost certainty, as if it were a matter of course: 'Rest assured, as your most loyal ally, when necessary, I and my Iron Legion will provide you with decisive support far beyond your imagination!'

"Our cooperation will be a solid foundation for overturning the world and hell!"

Then, it turned its cold, metallic head to look at the still chaotic battlefield in the distance below, and said in a synthesized electronic voice with a hint of impatient mockery:
"Well then, let's have our 'Captain America' play with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers for a bit... It's sure to be very 'exciting'!!"

…………

……

That night, the deep night sky, like a vast, boundless piece of black velvet soaked in ink, stretched across the boundless heavens.

A cold, full moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale, hazy glow that barely illuminated the slowly flowing, leaden sea of ​​clouds below, but could not penetrate the dense, deathly silence that seemed to absorb all sound and light.

Ten thousand meters above the ground, a sleek Quinjet, painted with an anti-radar stealth coating, is silently speeding through the clouds toward New York.

The engine's deep hum became the only rhythm in the silent night sky, yet it inadvertently highlighted the suffocatingly heavy atmosphere inside the cabin.

The pale moonlight shone unhindered through the reinforced glass on both sides of the fuselage, coating everything inside the cabin with a cold silver glow, and illuminating the faces that were filled with weariness, frustration and heavy thoughts.

In the shadows of the far corner, Bruce Banner huddled wearily and remorsefully in his seat, a gray emergency blanket wrapped around his trembling body, yet he continued to shake uncontrollably, as if he were in a freezing abyss.

He kept his head down, his glasses were taken off and placed aside, and his fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of the blanket.

His face had long lost its usual gentleness and wisdom, leaving only a visible weariness that suggested his body had been hollowed out and a deep sense of self-reproach that was almost overflowing.

The cold moonlight illuminated the sweat on his forehead and the deep shadows in his eyes.

His gaze was blankly fixed on the cold metal floor beneath his feet, while deep within his pupils seemed to be playing an unending, inescapable, and endlessly replaying terrifying scene, like a scroll of hell—

[Tucson] In the bustling streets, panicked crowds scatter and flee, screams, cries, the loud crashes of collapsing buildings, and the ferocious figure of a green monster destroying everything.

It pounded its chest, letting out a deafening roar filled with destructive desire...

It can flip over cars as easily as a toy...

It can smash through a thick concrete wall with a single punch...

Amidst the flying debris and twisted cars, glimpses of terrified, contorted faces and countless screams were drowned out by the even louder explosions.

A little girl in a floral dress, clutching a tattered teddy bear, stood beside the burning wreckage of a car, crying loudly, her face covered in soot and tear stains.

An elderly man with white hair was trapped under the rubble of a collapsed building, his outstretched hand hanging limply at his sides...

And then there was the little baby, held tightly in her mother's arms, so frightened she forgot to cry, just staring wide-eyed at the green monster...

Every scene was like a red-hot branding iron, fiercely searing Bruce Banner's fragile soul.

"It's me...it's all me..."

Bruce Banner's lips moved silently, his nails digging deep into his palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks of blood.

Even though reason tells him that it was all a trap set by Ultron, and that Hulk's instincts were maliciously triggered, it is undeniable that the "power" that caused the destruction originated from him.

The monster that was deeply ingrained in every cell of his body broke free once again, bringing fear and pain to innocent people.

Although no one uttered a word of reproach, and others deliberately avoided looking at him, this silent tolerance felt like an even sharper knife, repeatedly torturing his heart.

And the 'court' within his own heart has already delivered the harshest verdict.

His teeth dug deep into his lower lip, almost drawing blood, but he felt no pain. Only a cold, suffocating sense of guilt spread wildly through his chest.

He didn't shed tears or cry, but the silent pain and self-blame that emanated from the depths of his soul was far more suffocating and despairing than any loud wailing.

Not far from him, Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Human Torch, and Tony Stark, who was piloting the plane, all sat silently like statues, enveloped in the same heavy atmosphere.

Captain America's back remained ramrod straight, but his tightly pursed lips and the deep wrinkles between his brows betrayed the turmoil churning within him.

Even his usually unwavering blue eyes were now clouded with gloom, staring blankly at the boundless sea of ​​clouds and the bright moon outside the window, appearing somewhat empty and lost.

Black Widow rested her head against the cold bulkhead, her eyes closed, seemingly taking a break.

But judging from her slightly furrowed brows and tightly pursed lips, she was actually not asleep.

However, her face didn't reveal much expression. She seemed to be the calmest one among them, even somewhat languid. But this was just her agent's instinct, which made her instinctively hide all her emotions.

Only the occasional, unconscious, and extremely slight tapping of her fingertips on her knees revealed that her inner world was definitely not as calm as it appeared.

Hawkeye kept his head down, focused on maintaining his compound bow that he never parted with.

He used a soft cloth to wipe every inch of the bow over and over again, almost obsessively, with slow and gentle movements.

It was as if only through this repetitive, familiar behavior could one barely suppress the frustration and sense of defeat caused by the complete failure of the task.

Even Thunderbolt, a young man who is usually energetic, talkative, and noisy, was unusually silent at this moment.

His face bore the sullenness and confusion typical of young people, born of frustration.

With his arms crossed and head resting against the bulkhead, he stared at the ceiling, unconsciously blowing out a tiny, flickering flame, which he then quickly extinguished, repeating this cycle over and over again.

While in the driver's seat, Tony Stark had handed over most of the driving authority to his new AI assistant, Friday, his hands remained on the control stick.

His eyes, which usually shone with wisdom and arrogance, now seemed unfocused as he stared blankly at the endless sea of ​​clouds ahead.

His face was so gloomy it was almost dripping with water, his jawline taut. His former cynical and arrogant expression had vanished without a trace, replaced by a complex expression that mixed frustration, anger, and a hint of barely perceptible fear.

Losing both the Mark 44 Mini Gundam Armor and the Veronica Satellite was like having one of his most important ribs removed, causing him unbearable pain.

This is not just a loss of combat power, but also a great mockery of his wisdom and resources.

Ultron, the creation he made to protect peace, is now using the very methods he is best at to drive him into a corner...

(End of this chapter)