He activated slow-motion analysis, watching frame by frame as the MOAB activated. The explosion bloomed like a flower of destruction, temperatures rising beyond measurement capabilities as the camera's went off.
Hawthorne's eyes catalogued every detail of the target's final moments.
Arthur's face contained no panic. No desperate teleportation attempt. No last-minute escape.
He's just standing there. He clearly didn't know there would such an attack.
The explosion engulfed everything in brilliant white light. Temperatures that could vaporize steel. Pressure waves that could crush mountains.
The explosion was a direct hit. Center mass. Perfect targeting without a doubt.
Hawthorne's smile was predatory as understanding flooded through his consciousness.
They'd done it. Actually done it.
"The monster is dead…"
"We killed him!" The words erupted from his throat with savage satisfaction. "We finally killed the monster!"
Arthur Fate is gone. Eliminated. Erased from existence.
