American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 985 The Pharaoh Descends upon Gotham!

“You are confused,” the Pharaoh said calmly, “confused as to why I let Rorschach find you and bring you here like sludge from a sewer.”

His gaze swept over the mime's wary posture, then landed on Erica, pausing for a moment, a complex and elusive look seemingly flashing across his eyes.

"Because your value lies precisely in that night you least want to remember."

He took a few steps closer, stopped beside the control panel, and unconsciously ran his fingertips over a cold metal knob.

“Dr. Manhattan, he discovered you as humans discover bacteria under a microscope. To him, breaking you down is nothing more than eliminating two meaningless, erroneous variables, like brushing away a speck of dust. Do you remember why you were imprisoned?”

His voice was completely flat, as if he were stating an objective physical law.

Erica's breath hitched as she recalled a nightmare she had experienced.

Bank safe deposit box.

The touch of the marionette's fingertips gliding across the cold alloy door of the vault was incredibly exciting.

She and her husband had been preparing for this robbery for a long time.

She wore her signature fiberglass mask, smooth and mouthless, with only two narrow slits around her eyes that now reflected a ghostly glow under the stark emergency lights of the bank vault.

"Hurry up, Erica!"

The mime urged her to hurry, while simultaneously raising a pistol and aiming it at the glass.

With a loud bang, the heavy bulletproof glass counter shattered, spiderweb-like cracks instantly covering its surface, and then collapsed inward with a whoosh, turning into countless glittering fragments that cascaded like a waterfall onto the smooth marble floor.

Erica suppressed the urge to vomit that she didn't know why she felt, took a deep breath, and pressed her palm firmly against the cold alloy door of the vault.

Then her ability activated, and a "connection" that transcended physical contact was instantly established.

The complex structure of gears, levers, and electronic lock cylinders inside the door unfolded clearly in her mind like an X-ray.

She concentrated her mind, her thoughts acting like the most precise probe, manipulating the locking mechanisms that were invisible to the naked eye.

"Click...click...click-click-click-click..."

A series of dull, clicking sounds of mechanisms disengaging echoed from deep within the heavy door.

The massive alloy door let out a heavy sigh and began to slowly slide inward.

Piles of banknotes and jewelry were leaking out from under the door.

But just as that door, a symbol of both wealth and destruction, opened wide enough for one person to pass through, time seemed to be abruptly paused by an invisible hand.

All sound disappeared.

The air was stagnant, as if it were solid.

The pale light of the emergency lights seemed to have lost its vitality, no longer flickering, but frozen into a deathly, suffocating white.

The bodies of the marionettes and pantomime artists were completely frozen in place.

Erica remained in the position of pushing the door open, her fingertips only inches from the door frame, yet she could not move forward even an inch further.

The paint on the mime's face seemed to dry and crack instantly, his horrified gaze frozen in his eye sockets, his body still in a fighting stance but unable to move.

They can think, they can feel the deep-seated fear, but even turning their eyes is a luxury.

Then, there is light.

It wasn't a blindingly bright light, but a pure, deep blue.

The man did not "walk" in.

That blue hue appeared out of nowhere, above the scattered banknotes and jewelry in the center of the vault, as if it were a substance "extracted" directly from the frozen background of time and space.

There were no footsteps, no disturbance in the air.

Dr. Manhattan hovered a few inches off the ground, radiating a constant blue glow that illuminated the surrounding dust particles, giving them an eerie blue hue as well.

Then, Dr. Manhattan's gaze swept over the two of them.

His gaze was devoid of any emotion, as if a scanner were sweeping over two lifeless samples.

He slowly raised one hand, a palm made of pure energy.

Dr. Manhattan's hand remained steady without trembling, his fingers spread wide, his palm facing the marionette Erica.

Deep within the palm of his hand, a purer, more intense blue light began to gather.

break down!

That word is all that remains in the mind of the marionette.

I'm about to be disintegrated!
Filled with fear, she thought she was about to die!

Just as the destructive light was about to burst forth, an extremely faint voice was detected by Dr. Manhattan.

"Thump... thump... thump...!"

Slow, powerful, and with the most primal rhythm of life.

That was the heartbeat of the fetus inside the marionette's womb.

Upon hearing the baby's heartbeat, the swirling blue light in Dr. Manhattan's palm suddenly stopped.

Something seemed to flicker very subtly in his eyes, which reflected the stars.

That wasn't surprise, it was more like...confusion?

A ripple brushed by the dust of distant memories.

The blue light representing absolute decomposition power in Dr. Manhattan's hand did not dissipate, but its rotation speed slowed down significantly, and the light became unstable, flickering a few times like a light bulb with poor contact.

Manhattan's raised hand, extremely slowly, lowered a few inches.

His palm was no longer directly aimed at Erica, and the dangerous light dimmed.

The next second, just as abruptly as when he appeared, that dark blue figure, along with the suffocating pressure and the frozen sense of time, vanished without warning.

Like being erased from a real scene by an eraser, leaving no trace of light or shadow, no sound of air filling the void, as if it had never existed.

Time suddenly resumed its flow.

Erica Manson's legs buckled, as if all her bones had been removed, and she fell forward, her knees slamming heavily onto the cold marble floor with a dull thud.

Ignoring the pain, she clutched her lower abdomen tightly with both hands, her body trembling violently, and the urge to vomit finally broke through the blockage in her throat.

She gagged violently, but nothing came out.

The mime suddenly inhaled a large breath of air filled with dust and a metallic smell, and his lungs burned.

He staggered to Erica's side to check on his wife.

"What is he?"

"I don't know, let's go!"

A chilling fear, like a poisonous vine, clung to them, long since overshadowing their greed for wealth.

The mime practically dragged and carried the limp Erica as they stumbled and staggered out of the vault door, which had been opened like the mouth of a giant beast, and escaped.

"But he stopped."

The Pharaoh's voice changed slightly, revealing an almost fanatical curiosity.

"Just before the decomposition command was executed, he sensed the life force pulsating within your abdomen, you puppet."

His gaze was sharply fixed on Erica.

"A new life is forming, and at that moment, an extremely small probability wave function collapses—not on a physical level, but on a human level, the long-dormant echo that belongs to Jon Osterman."

He leaned forward slightly, like a scientist observing cells miraculously surviving in a petri dish. "That faint echo made him choose 'pause' instead of 'delete'. That faint echo awakened his humanity. That is my purpose, my only purpose."

Erica's body trembled slightly, and the mime's hand pressed tightly against the back of her chair, his knuckles turning white.

The two looked at the Pharaoh with some nervousness, wondering what he wanted to do.

The Pharaoh's lips curled into a cold smile as he walked to a massive instrument filled with complex coils and glass tubes, with a dark blue crystal suspended in its center.

“Every being’s consciousness and matter combine to leave a unique ‘imprint’ in the quantum field, an echo of existence, which I call the ‘Atomic Field’. Dr. Manhattan’s barrier is the most powerful and unique in the universe. It is like the radiation background of his power, omnipresent yet difficult to locate.”

He gently flipped a switch, and the crystal inside the instrument began to emit a low hum. "However, this barrier has 'disappeared' twice. The first time was the moment when Jon Osterman was completely deconstructed and reconstructed in the internal force field generator, that is, the moment he became a god."

“The second time,” his voice suddenly rose, tinged with barely perceptible excitement, “was the moment he completely left our universe to pursue his so-called ‘grander design’!”

The indicator lights on the instrument were flashing wildly and emitting rapid beeping sounds.

The Pharaoh's hand moved rapidly across the complex control panel, bringing up the holographic star map.

"When he departed, his body, composed of pure energy, and those 'overflowing electrons,' left an extremely subtle and fleeting 'traces' in the quantum structure of the universe, like a comet streaking across interstellar dust—an 'electron trail' leading to his new dimension!"

He turned around abruptly, his eyes blazing as he stared intently at Erica and the mime.

"This trace is fleeting and difficult to trace, but it existed! And you, the two 'variables' he last came into contact with, who were almost dismantled by him but were spared by him, your memories, your imprints of existence, must contain the 'echoes' generated by that moment of violent collision with his barrier!"

He pointed to the instrument that emitted an ominous blue light.

"This machine can activate the deepest memory fragments in your brains, stripping that 'electronic contrail' from the chaotic background noise of your consciousness. Once we find it, we can find Dr. Manhattan and travel to his world!"

"No….!"

Erica weakly tried to resist.

Her voice trembled with fear, "You have no idea how terrifying he is!"

"Of course I know, and I know who he is. We must do this to save the world. Only he can stop this war."

The Pharaoh's voice was resolute.

He then nodded slightly toward the shadows behind the console.

The second-generation Rorschach, wearing the unchanging ink-stained mask, stepped out silently and with overwhelming force, like a solidified entity from the darkness, towards Erica and the mime.

The pantomime let out a roar, its body instantly bursting with astonishing speed, attempting to stop Rorschach.

Rorschach's movements were faster and more concise.

He sidestepped the force field's edge, executing a textbook-perfect grappling move, his steel-like fingers instantly gripping the wrist joint of the mime's outstretched hand.

At the same time, another hand shot out like lightning and covered Erica's mouth as she tried to scream.

The force was so great that she suffocated instantly.

"Well--!"

Erica's struggles were as powerless as an infant's against Rorschach's strength.

The mime was restrained by the reverse joint lock, struggling violently, letting out angry and desperate roars from its throat, but unable to break free from the iron clamp-like confinement.

Luo Xia silently and roughly pushed them toward the altar-like device that emitted a ghostly blue light.

The cold metal restraints popped out instantly, wrapping around their wrists, ankles, and chests like living things, fixing them firmly to the metal seats in front of the equipment.

Erica twisted her body in vain, the cold restraints digging into her skin.

The pantomime's struggle was like a wave crashing against steel, only producing a harsh grating sound from the restraints.

"start."

The Pharaoh's voice was devoid of warmth, like a judge's pronouncement.

He abruptly pressed a scarlet button in the center of the console.

"Om-!"

The deep blue crystal suspended in the center of the instrument burst forth with an unprecedented, blinding light.

Countless tiny, leaping blue arcs of electricity formed a violent stream of light that instantly engulfed Erica and the mime.

The light pierced their eyes and penetrated their skulls.

"what--!!!"

The instrument's sharp beeping reached its peak, and on the holographic projection screen, in the originally chaotic and noisy background, an extremely subtle yet exceptionally clear trace was forcibly outlined.

It is not a physical entity, but rather a path composed of countless leaping blue dots of light, winding and stretching against the backdrop of a vast star map, pointing to an incomprehensible coordinate dimension.

The trace was so fragile, as if it might dissipate into the cosmic background radiation at any moment.

This is the "electron trail" left by Dr. Manhattan!
"found it!"

The Pharaoh's voice trembled slightly with excitement. He stared intently at the blue path that had painstakingly emerged amidst the screams of Erica and the mime spirit, his fingers flying across the control panel, trying to lock onto the coordinates. "Stabilize it! Lock onto it for me!"

Just then, the entire underground space suddenly shook!
"boom!!!"

Immediately following was a second, even more violent tremor!
Dust fell from the ceiling, the thick pipes groaned with a metallic twisting sound, the indicator lights on the control panel flashed wildly, and the alarm blared throughout the entire space, sharp enough to pierce eardrums!

"Do not!!!"

The Pharaoh's ecstatic joy froze instantly, turning into ashen ashes.

He looked up sharply, as if he could see through the thick layers of rock and concrete to the terrifying creation that was rapidly falling, bringing absolute annihilation.

For the first time, his eyes clearly reflected pure, irrational fear.

A nuclear bomb has been dropped on this city!

"They're coming!"

For the first time, Rorschach's hoarse voice carried a hint of urgency. He stopped suppressing Erica and the mime, and instead looked up sharply, his body tensing.

The restraint straps automatically snapped open due to the strong vibration.

Erica and the mime slumped in their seats, their heads throbbing and their minds hazy, as if they had been pulled from hell. Their bodies were drenched in cold sweat, and all that remained were heavy breathing and uncontrollable trembling from the excruciating pain.

They couldn't even understand what was happening.

Pharaoh lunged at the control panel, his hands frantically manipulating the violently vibrating instruments, trying to grasp the blue trace that was fluctuating wildly amidst the interference and on the verge of disappearing.

"Hold on! Coordinates! Give me the last coordinates!"

The piercing scream overhead pierced through the thick rock layers; it was no longer a faint vibration, but a death horn that tore through eardrums and announced the end of all things!

It poured into the underground fortress from directly overhead at an unimaginable speed!

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at that moment.

Erica looked up blankly, her vision blurred by the pain and bright light, seeing only peeling paint on the ceiling and dust falling in clumps.

The pantomime subconsciously reached out a trembling hand, as if trying to grasp something, but only grasped emptiness.

The Pharaoh drew a final command on the control screen, forcibly calculating the cosmic coordinates that had just been captured, composed of countless jumping blue dots.

His face was expressionless, only showing a focus akin to that of a martyr.

Rorschach stood ramrod straight, his ink-stained mask facing upwards where the tremors were most intense, as if awaiting a predetermined judgment.

Then--

The world was filled with a pure white that swallowed all senses.

There was no sound, no touch, and no smell.

Only pure, absolute, and all-ruling white light.

In that absolute instant when the white light devoured all matter, the monitor screen on the Pharaoh's console, which had been filled with static and interference, stubbornly flickered for a moment.

On the screen, the "electron trail" left by Dr. Manhattan's "overflowing electrons," leading to the outside of the universe, was clearly and perfectly displayed against the background of the vast star map.

Then the white light from the nuclear bomb completely engulfed everything.

The figures of the Pharaoh and his companions also disappeared in the nuclear explosion before being completely engulfed by the white light.

at the same time.

Bruce, who had just finished collecting the candy and was standing in Wayne Manor enjoying the afterglow of Halloween, suddenly saw what appeared to be a shooting star streaking across the Gotham sky.

"Meteor?"

Gotham isn't Smallwell, so how could there be a shooting star?

Bruce fell into deep thought.

(End of this chapter)