The Destruction of Normal City In the dim-lit void between worlds, Invincible War surged forth with a roar that shook the very foundations of existence. Eighteen alternate-dimension variants of Mark Grayson, each more ruthless and savage than the last, descended onto a place ripe for havoc — Normal City, where cowardice draped the streets like a heavy fog. The air thickened with anticipation as destruction hung like a ripe fruit, waiting for the savage hand to pluck it. The moment they touched down, the city’s tranquility shattered. Buildings that stood for decades crumbled beneath the ferocity of Invincible War's onslaught. The variants howled like banshees, igniting the very hearts of the cowardly populace with terror like flames consuming dry timber. Cars flipped and crumpled underfoot, and glass shattered, painting the street with rainbows of broken dreams. They screamed as the earth trembled; that was the last sound they made. With each variant screaming, "Fear us! We are Invincible!," Normal City knew it would no longer be normal. One by one they obliterated everything — businesses, homes, even a quaint little coffee shop where friends once gathered to share stories and laughter. The smell of burnt rubber and mangled metal filled the air as Invincible War effortlessly decimated the world around them, tossing vehicles like they were mere toys. Lush greenery turned to nothing more than charred remains, as if the very life had been sucked from the soil. The variants spread out, a tidal wave of mass destruction. Some excelled in raw power, creating shockwaves with every punch that knocked the bravest of souls off their feet. Others focused on speed and agility, darting through the city’s alleyways, their laughter echoing like menacing bells tolling the end. Windows rattled in their frames, and walls echoed their delirious chaos as the city trembled in a symphony of dread and despair. In moments that felt like eons, those trapped within the city sought refuge behind closing doors. Yet, hiding didn’t shield them from the inevitability of despair. The variants would wrench open doors, dragging terrified souls into a darkness beyond comprehension. There was no escape; Normal City was a well-assembled puzzle, but the pieces were being ripped apart by the hands of fury. As devastation flowed freely, Invincible War reveled in chaos like a beast unleashed from its iron cage. Piles of rubble and the scattered remains of lives built among the shattered bricks became their playground. With a twisted sense of glee, they marked their territory, leaving destruction so profound that the very sky seemed to weep ash over its fallen hopes, plunging the neighborhood into an abyss beyond fear, into madness itself. Building after building collapsed, their dust clouds running rampant in the wind. Searing flames danced against the backdrop of the twilight, casting grotesque shadows. The once peaceful city had become a hellscape, every street a morbid reminder of the carnage that just had transpired. Invincible War stood amidst the ruins, feeling the thrill of victory throbbing through their veins. Fear replaced the air where laughter once reigned supreme, as normalcy faded into an abstract concept. The local authorities, far from the scene, could only listen helplessly over the radio as chaos indelibly imprinted itself into history. With no military to face these titan-like creatures, their pleas were nothing more than whispers lost in the abyss of madness. Finally, triumphant and unrelenting, they stood atop the tallest building left half-standing, arms raised high, embodying the very essence of destruction itself. "Look at your new rulers!" they jeered into the void as the city lay sprawled beneath them, the conquered ground echoing with unwelcome silence. The variants surveyed their grievous artwork — marks of terror scattered over the place they’d found to destroy and dominate. The Aftermath In the aftermath, Normal City was a shell of its former self, standing like a gnarled tree against the fading sunlight. Where laughter, hustle, and bustle had once thrived, there were only ruins. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, choking any flicker of hope that dared remain. The ghosts of the past wandered the wreckage, specters of lost dreams entwined with the debris scattered like autumn leaves in a storm. All that could be heard was the surviving whispers of crushed spirits, an elegy of disappointment floating amidst the echoing silence. The city, stripped of its identity, had become a playground for nightmares, a mere specter devoid of life and vitality. Those who survived lived in constant fear, peering through debris-strewn cracks, knowing monsters once walked their streets. The news would tell tales of horror, documenting the loss that engorged the city like a sinking ship, descending deeper into the abyss of despair. Heroes were spoken of in hushed tones, figures who seemed too far to reach or rescue the innocents left behind. Federal inquiries went unanswered, an unseen wall of incompetence sealing the fate that Normal City was doomed to remain a wasteland, a ghost town of forgotten town-hall meetings and schoolyard stories. And as the last flicker of light bled out over the skyline, one could almost hear the distant echoes of Invincible War’s laughter merging with the wind. For they not only conquered — they left an indelible mark, a legacy of fear, chaos, and ruin, solidifying their reign as the nightmare that claimed Normal City as a trophy of utter annihilation.