Steve carefully examined the person who had effortlessly subdued him just moments ago. To his surprise, it was only a teenage boy clad in a strange-looking suit of armor, making him appear rather eccentric.
"Who are you?"
"Me? You can call me Galan."
"Galan? You're not with Hydra?"
"So that's what they call themselves? No wonder they keep chanting, 'Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.' How interesting. Are they the offspring of the Lernaean Hydra? I recall my lord once saying that the Hydra was slain during the mythological era." Galan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Steve, already baffled by the young man's attire, was now completely thrown off by his words.
Lernaean Hydra? Offspring? Mythological era? Slain?
What kind of nonsense was this?
Did this guy know some top-secret military intelligence? And what was this so-called mythological era? Wasn't Hydra's leader the Red Skull, Johann Schmidt?
"Hey, you still haven't told me who you are," Galan asked.
Normally, Galan had little interest in conversing with ordinary people. If they were enemies, he would simply deliver a Lightspeed Fist and be done with them. If not, he wouldn't bother engaging at all—he'd just continue carrying out his mission as long as no one got in his way.
However, from the moment he laid eyes on Steve, he sensed an incredibly pure and radiant energy emanating from him—kindness, courage, righteousness. These qualities were akin to those of the Saints, which made Galan feel a sense of kinship. That was why he decided to tease Steve a little and engage in conversation.
It was a pity, though, that the man was a follower of Yahweh. Otherwise, Galan might have tried recruiting him as a Saint.
"Steve Rogers," Steve replied. Since he didn't sense any hostility from Galan, he was willing to reveal his name.
"Nice to meet you, Steve. By the way… your outfit is rather unique."
Galan scrutinized Steve's attire. Despite the leather jacket covering him, he could still see the star-spangled tight suit underneath, along with the helmet and shield—all sporting the same stars and stripes. He looked like… a clown who had escaped from a circus?
"Me? Strange?" Steve looked at himself, then at Galan, and was left speechless.
If anyone looks weird here, it's you!
Blue hair, dark metallic armor—was this some kind of elaborate cosplay?
Wait… why do I even know the word 'cosplay'?
However, Steve quickly pushed those thoughts aside. He had a mission to complete. Every minute he delayed meant greater danger for the captured soldiers.
"Sorry, kid, I don't have time to chat. This place is dangerous—you should—"
"You plan to storm in there alone? With your strength, you'd die a miserable death." Galan looked at him strangely. Steve was indeed physically impressive, but his Cosmo was only at the Fifth Sense level. In other words, he was still just flesh and blood.
"My friends are being held captive. I have to save them, no matter the danger," Steve said resolutely.
Galan fell silent, his playful demeanor vanishing. Then, after a moment, he smiled sincerely.
"You're not bad. It's a shame you follow Yahweh. But since fate brought us together, I'll take care of those small fry—you just focus on rescuing your friends."
"You? You're going to storm in too? Do you have a plan? Hey, wait! Where are you going?! Come back!"
Before Steve could finish, Galan was already strolling casually toward the factory's main gate. The searchlights illuminated him fully.
"Damn! How am I supposed to save him? He's just a kid!" Steve panicked.
But in the next moment, that thought—and his entire worldview—was shattered.
As the guards' weapons began glowing blue, about to fire, Galan merely raised his right hand and clenched his fist. A golden light streaked through the night sky like a shooting star.
The factory's reinforced gate, along with its bunkers and cannons, was instantly obliterated. The shockwave sent soldiers flying, knocking them unconscious.
"What… What kind of weapon is that?" Steve was dumbfounded as he watched Galan casually step through the smoldering wreckage.
No… The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I can't let him face this danger alone!
Determined, Steve rushed forward—only to realize that the danger he had anticipated was nothing to Galan.
As more Hydra soldiers swarmed out, Galan didn't even break his leisurely stride. Golden energy swirled around him, piercing through the soldiers' chests, leaving gaping holes in their bodies.
Even the thick armor of Hydra's high-tech tanks and vehicles was like paper before the golden light, getting torn through effortlessly before erupting in explosions.
"Hey, Steve, weren't you here to save people? Why are you just standing there?" Galan called out.
Once inside the factory, it didn't take Steve long to find where the prisoners were held.
"Who are you?"
"I'm… Captain America." Steve hesitated for a moment but decided to introduce himself using his rather embarrassing title.
"Who?" The prisoners looked confused.
But there was no time to explain. With Galan keeping the enemy at bay, Steve quickly unlocked the cells.
Looking around, however, Steve's heart sank—he didn't see Bucky anywhere.
"Are there any other prisoners? Do you know where Sergeant James Barnes is?"
"There's an isolation chamber," one soldier replied. "But… no one has ever come out of there alive."
"Got it." Steve's hope reignited.
After giving orders for the prisoners to regroup at a designated location, he rushed off to find Bucky.
Before long, Steve found Bucky and even stumbled upon a map marking all of Hydra's secret bases. However, there was no time to gather intel—Schmidt had triggered the self-destruct sequence. If they didn't escape now, they'd be buried in flames.
As they fled, Steve had a brief encounter with Schmidt, during which he realized the man's deranged belief that he was divine.
Yet, Steve couldn't help but think of Galan outside.
If a god truly existed, wouldn't he be more like Galan? At least in terms of power…
Once outside, Steve was shocked to see all the freed prisoners gathered in one place, staring ahead in stunned silence.
"What's wrong with you guys?" Steve asked, but Bucky simply patted his shoulder.
Confused, Steve turned to follow Bucky's gaze—
And was met with a scene straight out of hell.
Blood covered the ground. Bodies were piled high.
Atop the mountain of corpses, clad in his dark armor, sat Galan. Around him, everything had been reduced to ruin—tanks, vehicles, bunkers, nothing remained intact.
"Yo, Steve. Looks like you found your friend." Galan greeted him casually, as if he weren't sitting on a throne of destruction.
"You know him?" Bucky whispered.
"Met him outside the factory," Steve replied.
Galan then turned toward the ruins. "Hold on—I have one last thing to do."
Stretching out his hands, he conjured a small glowing sphere.
"Galaxy Explosion!"
The sphere shot into the wreckage, and in the blink of an eye, a pillar of light erupted into the sky. The resulting shockwave blasted everyone backward.
When Steve finally steadied himself, he was met with a horrifying sight—a massive crater, as if the factory had been completely erased.
"Are… Are you a god?" Steve's voice trembled.
Galan smirked. "Me? Of course not. I'm a Saint. Galan, Silver Saint of the Dark Constellation."
And with that, he vanished into the night sky.
Steve stared at the crater in silence.
"A Saint… with this kind of power… Can he really be human?"