Ten thousand meters above the United States—
A continent floated.
Not a metaphor.
Not an illusion.
A mass of land measuring over twenty thousand square kilometers hung in the sky like something torn from reality and forgotten by gravity.
New Jersey—and everything around it—had been ripped clean from the earth.
Below, a vast circular crater marked where it used to be.
People stared upward.
Speechless.
The ground had shaken when it happened. Buildings trembled. Windows shattered. For a moment, everyone thought it was an earthquake.
Then they looked up—
And saw the sky had changed.
What was once clouds…
Was now land.
Panic spread fast.
Anyone with even a basic understanding of physics understood the implication.
If that landmass fell—
It wouldn't just be a disaster.
It would be extinction.
Across the world, theories erupted.
Alien invasion.
Magnetic collapse.
Experimental weapons gone wrong.
Ironically—
The aliens watching from orbit were just as confused.
A Kryptonian vessel drifted silently in space.
Inside, General Zod stared at the display.
A continent.
Floating.
No visible propulsion.
No energy signature he could easily identify.
He hesitated.
Is this a warning?
His initial plan—direct domination—stalled.
If Earth could do this with technology…
Then charging in blindly would be suicide.
But something didn't add up.
Their systems had already probed Earth's infrastructure. It wasn't advanced enough for something like this.
Which meant—
Someone else was involved.
Zod leaned back slowly.
"Hold position."
Better to wait.
Better to understand.
On Earth—
Understanding came quickly.
Because the "miracle" spoke.
A colossal figure of stone rose from the lifted landmass, towering above the floating terrain. Its form reshaped itself as it stood, carrying two figures at its peak.
Visible.
Intentional.
Impossible to ignore.
At its summit—
Noah Vale stood with arms open wide.
"This is your miracle."
His voice didn't travel through air.
It appeared everywhere.
Simultaneously.
Every screen.
Every device.
Every satellite feed.
Behind him, the earth itself shifted, forming words across the sky in countless languages.
"From this moment forward," Noah said, calm and clear, "I will bring light to this world."
Back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne watched the broadcast in silence.
He had seen power before.
Godlike power.
Alien invasions. Cosmic threats.
But this—
This was different.
Because it wasn't chaos.
It was control.
And worse—
It was deliberate.
"…He really means it," Bruce muttered.
Back atop the floating land—
Noah continued.
"I am replacing your current systems of governance."
No hesitation.
No buildup.
"I will end war. Crime. Hunger. Violence."
He looked down at the world beneath him.
"You will live under my management."
The words settled over humanity like a storm.
A utopia.
Enforced.
Across the globe, reactions fractured.
Fear.
Hope.
Defiance.
Desperation.
Some prayed.
Some prepared.
Some simply stared.
At the White House, emergency meetings spiraled into chaos.
Military advisors. Scientists. Strategists.
No solution held.
"If he's physically weak," one analyst suggested, "we might have a chance."
A pause.
"But if we fail—"
Everyone knew what came next.
The floating landmass.
"Then we lose everything," another finished quietly.
Silence followed.
"…So surrender is the logical option?" the President asked, voice strained.
"From a purely rational standpoint," the advisor replied, "yes."
The word hung in the room.
Surrender.
Meanwhile—
Someone else had a different priority.
A news helicopter cut through the sky, pushing dangerously close to the floating landmass.
"Are you serious?" the pilot muttered.
"Keep going," the reporter snapped, gripping her microphone.
"This is history."
They approached.
Closer.
Closer—
The wind roared.
The altitude pressed in.
Then—
They saw him.
Noah sat casually atop the stone giant's head, as if he were lounging on a park bench.
"Sir!" the reporter shouted over the noise. "Can you answer a few questions?"
Noah glanced over.
"Sure."
No hesitation.
No theatrics.
"First—who are you?" she asked. "And why are you doing this?"
Noah shrugged lightly.
"He's Gavin. Local."
A small gesture.
"As for me? I'm just visiting."
A pause.
"From another universe."
The reporter blinked.
"…You're serious."
"Yeah."
"And you decided to—what—take over the planet while you're here?"
Noah nodded.
"More or less."
Somewhere across the world, millions of viewers shared the same thought.
That's it?
The reporter struggled to recover.
"…What about existing governments?"
Noah leaned back slightly.
"They can stay."
A ripple of confusion.
"I'm not interested in micromanaging everything," he added. "They keep running things."
A faint smile.
"I just set the rules."
Simple.
Effortless.
Absolute.
And just like that—
The world understood.
This wasn't a threat.
It was a declaration.