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Late at night, a shabby motel on the outskirts of San Francisco.

At the end of a flickering fluorescent-lit corridor, a reporter stood before a stained mirror.

Her red hair was damp and tangled, her clothes torn and stained.

“Bad human? Sentinel?”

The reporter tilted her head, puzzled by the message coming from the wriggling black masses on her shoulders and back.

It’s hard to believe that the ever-kind Sentinel, known as the guardian of San Francisco, could be a bad human.

Of course, the reporter felt something was off about the situation.

There was no reason for the Sentinel to be at this rundown motel at this late hour.

[Eliminate bad humans!]

[Preemptive strike!]

Still, it didn’t seem right to attack without warning, despite the suspicious yet friendly black masses.

The black masses were incredibly excited, sensing something from the Sentinel.

That intense emotion coursed through the reporter’s body.

“Wait, wait! Stop!”

She tried to calm the black masses that seemed ready to bolt at any moment.

When her palm pressed gently against the black masses showing their sharp teeth, they paused for a moment.

[…].

Then, the black masses just stared up at her in silence.

In their silence, she felt dissatisfaction and warning.

Their eyes seemed to say, “You’ll regret this,” making the reporter flinch slightly.

She spoke her thoughts and plans to the black masses.

“Let’s escape. We need to break into the ‘Alexander Group’ headquarters again.”

[Alexander Group?]

The reporter quickly summarized the information she had gathered so far.

The suspicious last informant, and the notes left behind showing plans to infiltrate the Alexander Group.

[?]

The black masses merely tilted their heads, not fully understanding.

[Let’s go.]

[Okay.]

[Mom might be there.]

But perhaps her sincere feelings resonated, as the black masses, albeit puzzled, agreed to her plan.

The reporter carefully looked out the window, trying to find an escape route.

Her heart began to race.

The Sentinel still stood in the parking lot, while men in black suits were searching the motel rooms for something.

‘Are they really here to catch me…?’

Standing before the mirror, she tried to tidy her torn and stained clothes as much as possible and brushed her hair away.

Then she donned a hat and covered her mouth with a mask.

‘This level of disguise should be enough to pass by unnoticed from a distance.’

Taking a deep breath, just as she was about to step out of the motel room, she heard the whispers of the black masses.

[Disguise?]

[We disguise well.]

“What?”

At that moment, the black masses started wrapping around the reporter’s body.

Startled, she closed her eyes and then opened them again, only to find a completely different person standing before the mirror.

A brawny man with black skin.

The ragged clothes had vanished, replaced by a neat black t-shirt and black pants.

Aside from matching colors, there was no resemblance to the reporter at all.

Body type, gender, hair color.

None of it matched, so there was no way anyone would recognize her.

[Isn’t the disguise good?]

“U-uh, yeah….”

Feeling a bit awkward, the reporter rubbed her muscular arms and slowly stepped out of the motel room.

Creak, creak.

As she passed the squeaky, old stairs and stepped into the parking lot, she almost screamed in surprise.

The Prism Sentinel that should have been in the center of the parking lot was right in front of her.

He looked just as she remembered.

That friendly smile, those warm eyes.

But now, all of it felt threatening.

“Hello. Sorry for bothering you at this late hour.”

The Sentinel greeted her.

The reporter’s whole body tensed, her heart pounding as if it would burst out of her chest.

The opponent was the Sentinel, considered the strongest superhuman.

If she was caught, she’d be subdued in the blink of an eye.

“….”

She silently nodded, acknowledging him.

As soon as she opened her mouth, everything would be revealed.

Slowly, very slowly, she passed by the Sentinel.

She could feel his gaze behind her like a sharp blade.

It was just as she was about to escape the parking lot.

“Ah, just a moment.”

At the Sentinel’s voice, the reporter’s steps froze in place.

The black masses began to get agitated.

[Bad human!]

[Preemptive strike?]

The reporter slowly, very slowly turned her head.

Her eyes met those of the Sentinel.

Something suspicious flickered in his gaze.

“Have you seen a woman of this height with red hair?”

The reporter felt her heart stop.

She shook her head as naturally as she could.

Then she moved her feet again.

One step, two steps.

She could feel the Sentinel’s gaze boring into her back.

Three steps, four steps.

Before she realized, cold sweat was trickling down her spine.

Five steps, six steps.

‘Please, please…’

Finally, the moment she escaped the shadows of the motel, she let out a sigh of relief.

“Ha.”

And she started walking again.

Towards the center of San Francisco, where the Alexander Group headquarters was located.

*

By now, the sun was rising over the streets of San Francisco.

The reporter sat in that familiar street, gazing at the distant ‘Alexander Group’ headquarters building.

On the TV screen turned towards the street, her face was visible.

‘I didn’t think I would become famous for this…’

The reporter had become a notorious criminal who killed dozens of security team members from the Alexander Group.

But that news report only reinforced her conviction.

After all, it meant that the soldiers who had fired on her without warning belonged to the Alexander Group.

[Dizzy….]

[I can’t see anything.]

But there was quite a serious issue.

Just like in the shabby motel on the outskirts of San Francisco, the closer she got to the city center, the more the black masses complained of dizziness.

The strength and transformation ability of the black masses, along with their distinct black color, posed a serious problem for the reporter who was planning to infiltrate the group’s headquarters.

She couldn’t just scold the black masses for continuously expressing dizziness.

If she asked how dizzy they were, she’d recall the sensation of sharing senses with them.

The feeling back then was such that she couldn’t even stand properly.

The sky and ground flipped over, and everything she saw mixed together, making it impossible to distinguish anything.

With all five senses jumbled, she had to endure “dizzy….”

As she waited for night to fall, the mini reapers began to crawl toward the table where the reporter was sitting.

‘Human…?’

The golden reaper, looking as if it were dizzy, and the completely melted black reaper, tilted their heads.

‘Dizzy.’

‘Human…? Something’s different?’

The mini reapers who were trying to make eye contact with the reporter stumbled like they were drunk and then toppled over.

The golden reaper, who bumped its head upon falling, eventually lost motivation and lay flat on its back.

Seeing this, the reporter couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, being careful not to make any noise.

Then she turned her gaze to the setting sun as it slowly sank below the horizon.

Under that sunset, superhumans of the Superhuman Association were endlessly gathering towards the ‘Alexander Group’ headquarters.

*

Deep within the Mini Reaper Garden, in the Marshmallow Plains.

I was playing volleyball with the Golden Reapers and the White Hungry Ghost.

It was a joyful game using a white hungry ghost as the ball.

Kkyu hing hing.

As my powerful spike hit a corner of the court and bounced back, the unfair wail of the white hungry ghost echoed.

“Mom is strong!”

After merging with the Golden Reapers, my clumsy athletic skills had greatly improved.

The volleyball match with the merged Golden Reapers, who had merged to my size, was a definite level-up!

As I scored a point, 1-meter tall Golden Reapers rushed towards me.

“Mom loves it!”

“Mom is kind!”

As I was overwhelmed by the swarm of Golden Reapers, the duration of my fusion with them ended, causing them to start separating one by one.

“Oops!”

The Golden Reapers returned to their mini-reaper size and stuck to me, still sporting happy expressions.

In that moment, a strange thought struck me.

‘I feel like I’ve been playing with the mini reapers a bit too often these days…’

Running around with the Golden Reapers.

Doing plays with the Yellow Reaper.

Creating giant golems with the Blue Reaper.

Fighting matches with the Black Reaper, and so on.

Realizing that, I put on the Halo of Fusion and detached from the Golden Reapers.

“No way!”

The bouncing Golden Reaper flailed its arms as if it were sad.

As soon as the fusion released, the Golden Reapers clinging to my body began to annoy me.

There were so many Golden Reapers that I could hardly move.

The Golden Reapers realized from my gaze that the fusion had ended, but they sent me sparkling eyes.

They wished for this kind-hearted mom phase to continue.

But I held my entire body with space domination and slowly began to spin.

“No way!!”

The Golden Reapers clung tightly to me.

As if they would lose their kind mother forever if they let go.

But as I began to spin like a blender’s blades at high speed, they couldn’t hold on and started flying off in all directions like popcorn.

“No way!!!”

With expressions of lost nations, the Golden Reapers soared away, while the hungry ghosts watched, laughing giddily.

It was a peaceful day in the Mini Reaper Garden.

‘…’

I munched on an annoying white hungry ghost and teleported to the Isolation Room.

Long time no see, I picked up the TV remote.

Though it hadn’t actually been that long, it felt as if dust had settled on the remote from the long absence.

Click.

Breaking the long silence, a faint light seeped from the TV.

As the screen gradually brightened and became clearer, I couldn’t help but doubt my eyes.

‘???’

The scene sprawled across the screen was beyond my realm of expectations.

The anchor’s trembling voice filled the room.

[This is an emergency broadcast. Currently, an unidentified giant object has appeared in San Francisco, devastating the city.]

The camera shook as it captured the aerial view of the city.

There, an object of quite familiar shape was present.

With elongated arms, rooted legs, and two eyes with nine pupils.

Except for being slightly smaller, it was the form of the Old God, which should have been sleeping within the Unchanging Sphere.

‘No way?’

The black object revealed its sharp teeth and let out a piercing roar.

An intangible pressure spread out, warping even the TV screen.

Whether it was broadcasting directly from America or just background noise, at that moment, I heard faint English chatter.

The screen fell into silence before again showing the object’s figure.

Now the object was approaching the Golden Gate Bridge.

‘Is there something wrong with the Unchanging Sphere?’

Recently, I had been feeling uneasy about the Unchanging Sphere, so that was the first thought that came to me.

But there wasn’t even time to reflect on that hypothesis.

The moment the object’s sharp claws tore through the girders of the Golden Gate Bridge, the TV screen went black and the signal cut out.

I closed my eyes, extending my senses to urgently search for the mini reapers near San Francisco.