The Street Rat's form began to pulse with power that transcended mere physical manifestation, his Immortal-tier essence reaching a crescendo that made reality itself recoil in recognition of something that should not exist.
His body expanded not in size but in presence, becoming a conduit for forces that operated beyond the boundaries of normal spacetime.
The shadows beneath Manhattan's ruins responded to his call like iron filings drawn to a cosmic magnet.
"ENOUGH," he spoke for the first time, his voice carrying harmonics that existed in frequencies below human hearing but above mortal comprehension. The single word rippled through dimensions, causing the fabric of local reality to shudder.
Every shadow across Manhattan—from the smallest crack between debris to the vast darkness cast by the skeletal remains of skyscrapers—suddenly surged upward like a black ocean defying gravity.
