Superman: Starting with Witrum

Chapter 15 Departure

The wind swept across the bottom of the crater, raising only a few wisps of dust that had not been completely annihilated. The sounds of the battlefield seemed to have been muted, leaving only the distant buzzing of energy weapons and the crackling of burning starship wreckage.

Isaac's gaze fell on the figure lying in a pool of blood—Victor's lieutenant.

The chest of this elite warrior from the planet Vis was ripped open from top to bottom by Allen's hand blade, leaving a horrifying cavity. Thick blood had already soaked the ground beneath him, forming a dark swamp.

His body twitched slightly, each slight undulation accompanied by more blood foam gushing from his ruptured organs and gruesome wounds.

The Vixingan's powerful vitality meant he hadn't completely died, but his eyes, once full of confidence and killing intent, were now unfocused.

The shadow of death loomed over him as if it were a tangible reality; his lips moved unconsciously, each breath sounding like a broken bellows being pulled apart.

Anissa and Victor stood silently on either side of Isaac, like the most loyal statues. Their eyes remained utterly devoid of emotion as they gazed upon their dying kin.

The law of the jungle prevails, and the death of the Witrum man only proves that he was not strong enough.

Isaac strode over to the Visor's lieutenant, his X-ray vision carefully examining the nearly destroyed steel body.

Without the slightest hesitation, he acted swiftly and decisively. The two points of golden-red light in his eyes—the same light that had just completely vaporized Allen and was powerful enough to melt through the starship's armor—sparked again.

But this time, the light was no longer a destructive, intense burst, but was precisely compressed and condensed, becoming like the finest and most stable laser scalpel.

laugh--!

A faint burning sound rang out. Two exquisitely condensed golden-red rays, like living serpents, shot precisely from Isaac's eyes. They didn't shoot into the distance, but hovered above the horrific wound on the planetary lieutenant.

Isaac's gaze was terrifyingly focused, and his golden-red "eyesight" began to move with extremely subtle movements.

They first focused on the largest ruptured blood vessels, gushing blood like small fountains. The intense heat caused the breaks in the vessels to fuse and seal within a fraction of a second, preventing further loss of life.

Next, the thermal imaging scanned the torn muscle bundles. The high temperature precisely targeted the ends of the torn fibers, "welding" them back together. The faint smell of burning protein filled the air, but the rate of bleeding from the wound visibly slowed down.

This process requires unimaginable control; the heat must be sufficient to instantly melt the tough bio-alloy blood vessel walls of the aliens, yet not a fraction more, lest it burn the already fragile surrounding tissues.

Thermal imaging is like the needle and thread in the hands of the most skilled tailor, rapidly weaving and sewing through the bloody and mangled "fabric".

It processes those severed nerve bundles, carefully guiding them to approach and connect, using controlled heat energy to complete the initial fusion, preserving a sliver of hope for possible subsequent repair.

The entire "stitching" process lasted about a minute.

When the last major tissue tear was forcibly fused and sealed under thermal vision, although the horrifying hole in the Vice Admiral's chest still had a huge, clearly scorched area, the fatal hemorrhage had been forcibly stopped.

The adjutant's convulsions miraculously subsided, and although his breathing was still so weak as to be almost imperceptible, he was no longer in a state where he was on the verge of dying.

Isaac didn't pause at all. He leaned slightly forward, opened his mouth, and faced the charred, sunken chest and the entire body of the Visor.

call--!

It was no longer the wide-area cold current that froze Allen's remains during battle, but a highly condensed, precisely controlled pale white freezing air.

Like liquid ice, it gushed out instantly, precisely covering the surface of the Visor's body, especially the chest wound that had just been "stitched up".

Visible to the naked eye, a thick layer of dark blue ice spread rapidly from the wound, like a living thing, and in the blink of an eye, it completely enveloped the entire torso and limbs of the Weixing adjutant.

His last trace of life activity—the almost imperceptible breathing and heartbeat, the faint electrical signals from nerve endings, and the metabolic activity at the cellular level—was reduced to a state of near-complete cessation, a state akin to suspended animation, under the forced intervention of absolute low temperature.

Time seemed to have been paused on his frozen body.

"Alright, take him back to the medical bay," Isaac ordered, turning around.

"Yes!" Anissa carried out the order without the slightest question. A faint light shone from her fingertips, and a beam of light descended from the spaceship above, carrying the ice sculpture away.

"Your Majesty, what should we do next?" Anissa bowed her head, her figure standing by her side like the most loyal shadow.

Behind her, two elite warriors in full armor, who had just arrived, silently emerged from the shadows. The energy patterns on their bodies flickered slightly, like breathing, and their cold gazes swept across the battlefield, confirming that every corner had been thoroughly "cleaned".

"Hmm..." Isaac crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head slightly, and seemed to be looking in a certain direction in the deep universe—that blue planet.

Isaac determined his next strategic goal: to go to Earth as his base.

By the way, let's take a look at the current situation of the all-powerful Nolan. If he has already wiped out the Global Guardians, it will be difficult to achieve peaceful evolution and take over the Earth with fewer casualties.

"Summon all the aliens of the universe to come to Earth to see me." - Isaac

"Remember to notify all arriving fleets," Isaac's voice echoed in the bridge, carrying a calm yet powerful pronouncement. "Once in near-Earth orbit, maintain stealth. Without my direct orders, do not make any offensive contact with any targets on Earth."

Let the people on this planet... get used to our 'presence' first.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" came the unified reply.

Soon, through the unique hyperspace communication network of the planet, like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, ripples spread to every corner of the universe with terrifying efficiency that surpasses the speed of light.

Countless Starfleets, lurking deep within the starry sea and carrying out different missions, received this supreme order from the Empire at the same moment.

The engines began to warm up, the star map was re-planned, and the cold, steel behemoth changed course, its target the blue planet located at the edge of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way.