VCM When it comes to physics, Ethan Hunt is nearly untouchable. Even if the Hulk's raw strength is at its peak, taking him on would still be a one-sided beatdown.
In terms of energy, conventional attacks—even nuclear explosions—can't scratch him.
The reason is simple: his body instinctively registers these attacks as threats and reflects them back.
But there are ways to bypass this defense, ways that exploit the gaps in how his ability perceives harm—like some of the more unorthodox scientific techniques developed by geniuses in the field.
Of course, Ethan isn't an idiot.
Basic tricks won't fool him, and he has countermeasures for most loopholes.
However, there is one major problem, something that truly poses a challenge to him: forces that he simply doesn't understand.
In cases where he can't mentally grasp an attack's mechanics, his reflection ability doesn't function as expected.
It's not that he needs to understand physics at an academic level; his body instinctively recognizes fundamental forces like gravity, motion, and heat.
He doesn't need to recite Newton's laws—his body knows an apple falls to the ground because of gravity.
He doesn't need to study acoustics—his ears hear sound without understanding wave mechanics.
Through evolution, the human body has internalized these natural laws, and Ethan's ability takes that recognition to an extreme.
His body detects threats at a fundamental level and responds accordingly, making his defenses near-impenetrable.
However, magic doesn't follow the rules of nature.
Unlike abilities that enhance or manipulate existing physical laws, magic rewrites them.
It's the difference between modifying a game using admin controls versus hacking it with external cheats. Superpowers align with reality; magic bends reality itself.
Every spell is essentially a complex line of code, reprogramming the universe's source code to defy logic.
To put it in perspective, birds and planes both fly, but a bird doesn't understand the mechanics of an airplane.
Similarly, Ethan's body can't comprehend flames that sear a person's soul and make the victim feel as if their flesh has burned to ashes when, in reality, they are still alive.
The contradiction confuses his ability, and his reflection fails.
"Are you okay?" Melinda asked, her voice laced with concern as she watched Ethan clutch his hand.
Seeing Ghost Rider was shocking enough, but watching Ethan actually get injured? That was something else entirely.
Is he tougher than the Hulk? she wondered.
On the other side of the battlefield,
Ghost Rider stirred.
Despite his broken, mangled bones and a motorcycle that looked like it had been totaled, he was still moving.
Melinda thought the fight was over.
But as she watched, the skeletal figure began to repair itself—bones snapping back into place, hellfire weaving through the cracks to restore his form.
Even the wrecked motorcycle seemed to rewind time itself, rebuilding piece by piece until it was as good as new.
"No way… What kind of monster is this?" Melinda whispered, her disbelief evident.
"Magic means impossibility. Step back and whatever you do, don't look into his eyes," Ethan said, his tone firm and eyes sharp.
Fortunately, spiritual magic and psychic abilities had the smallest gap between them. Both relied on the manipulation of one's mental power.
Since Ethan had trained in mental fortification, spiritual magic didn't pose much of a threat to him.
Otherwise, Ghost Rider's Penance Stare would have been something he'd have to avoid at all costs.
"Are you sure you can handle this?" Melinda asked, her brows furrowed.
As one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best, known as "The Cavalry," she had never felt so powerless in battle before.
Despite her frustration, she knew better than to let emotions dictate her actions. After a brief moment of hesitation, she nodded and pulled Yuriko back to safety.
"Only one way to find out," Ethan muttered, turning his gaze toward Ghost Rider, who was now speeding toward him on his flaming motorcycle.
A smirk tugged at Ethan's lips. "You're the first person to actually make me feel pain since I awakened my abilities. I think that deserves a special reward."
The air around him began to stir violently.
Invisible forces twisted the wind, spiraling around him at increasing speeds.
Ghost Rider roared closer, hellfire blazing in his wake.
"Feel the pain—Shinra Tensei!"
A deafening shockwave erupted outward.
For a brief moment, space itself seemed to distort.
The next instant, Ghost Rider was sent hurtling through the air like a ragdoll, smashing into the ground hundreds of meters away.
His body and chariot crumpled into a heap of twisted wreckage.
Ethan flexed his hand and smirked. "Just because I can't touch your flames yet doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."
"Heads up! He's getting back up," Melinda warned.
"Persistent bastard." Ethan's gaze flickered, scanning the battlefield until it landed on a massive boulder, easily four or five meters tall.
"Let's see you walk this one off," he muttered, raising his hand.
With a flick of his fingers, the boulder ripped free from the ground.
He launched it straight at Ghost Rider before the flaming skeleton could fully recover.
"Get buried!" Ethan snarled, forcing the massive rock downward with immense force, slamming it into Ghost Rider like a hammer crushing an insect.
Crack!
The sound of stone shattering rang through the air, making Ethan's eyes narrow.
With his ability controlling the force vectors, that boulder should have crushed anything beneath it into dust. The fact that it shattered meant something was wrong.
That's when he saw it.
A faint red glow pulsed from the cracks in the boulder.
A warning sign. Without a moment's hesitation, Ethan leaped backward.
Boom!
An inferno erupted from the broken rock, flames surging upward like a volcanic explosion.
The ground beneath the boulder glowed bright orange as it melted, liquefying into a pool of boiling magma.
Drip. Drip.
Molten rock sizzled and popped.
From within the hellish pit, a shadow moved.
Slowly, Ghost Rider emerged, his skeletal form now covered in magma, the hellfire licking hungrily at his bones.
His motorcycle, fully restored, rolled forward like a demon steed born from the underworld.
His wounds, once severe, closed as the molten rock fused and healed him in real time.
Ethan exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing as he watched the supernatural entity reform itself.
"Damn. This guy's durability is off the charts." He cracked his knuckles, his mind already calculating the next move. "Guess I need to get creative if I'm gonna put him down."
"You can try mine too," Ghost Rider growled as he reached into the molten pool, pulling out a blazing magma chain.
He had been reckless before, charging in headfirst, but after nearly getting ripped apart twice by Ethan Hunt, he'd learned his lesson.
The roar of his infernal chariot echoed as he lashed the fiery chain toward Ethan's head with a brutal swing.
Boom!
Ethan barely lifted his hand before a deafening sonic boom shattered the chain into burning fragments, scattering embers across the battlefield.
But Ghost Rider wasn't fazed.
Instead, he accelerated, his flaming wheels carving a circle around Ethan, moving so fast that his hellfire left a growing ring of molten ground in his wake.
The flames intensified with each passing second, swirling into a blazing tornado that threatened to engulf Ethan entirely.
"Shinra Tensei!" Ethan extended his hand, releasing a shockwave aimed at Ghost Rider.
But his opponent was too fast—only a blur of afterimages remained where the Rider had been.
The searing heat surged, melting the very ground beneath their feet. The battlefield had turned into a furnace.
Ethan smirked. "You're fast, but not fast enough."
With a sharp stomp, he sent a shockwave through the ground.
Chunks of debris exploded into the air, one of them disrupting Ghost Rider's path.
The infernal biker's chariot launched upward, momentarily losing control.
"Gotcha!" Ethan shot forward like a bullet, fists clenched, ready to strike.
But Ghost Rider let out a dry, eerie chuckle. "No… I got you."
Three magma chains shot from his outstretched arm, hissing like venomous snakes, aimed to ensnare Ethan mid-air.
At the same time, Ghost Rider's skeletal hand, wreathed in hellfire, surged forward to grab him.
He knew Ethan was powerful—but that didn't matter. As long as he made contact, even for a split second, his Hellfire would do the rest.
Just inches away. Closer. Almost there—
Suddenly, the chains recoiled, bouncing away as if they had struck an invisible barrier.
Ghost Rider's own arm jerked back violently, slashed by an unseen force.
A powerful wind howled between them, cutting like a thousand invisible blades.
"I told you—your tricks won't work on me!" Ethan roared, launching Ghost Rider backward with a single devastating punch.
As Ghost Rider tumbled through the air, the flames around Ethan swirled and then—whoosh—vanished, dispersed effortlessly by the controlled wind.
The wind feeds the fire, but it also controls it. And Ethan had just mastered the latter.
If nothing else, Ghost Rider had proven to be an excellent opponent.
Facing him had forced Ethan to push himself harder than ever.
What would have taken weeks to master, he had refined in mere moments under the pressure of battle.
Now, he wasn't just manipulating vectors—he was mastering the wind itself.
And once he fully controlled it, Ethan would finally reach the peak of his power: the rank of an undisputed Omega-level mutant.
Ghost Rider slowly got back to his feet, but Ethan wasn't concerned.
The Rider was tough—stupidly so—but his weaknesses were clear.
No matter how resilient he was, there were ways to take him down.
A lack of oxygen, for example.
Ethan smirked to himself.
A few well-placed cloud bombs would create a suffocating vacuum, something even Ghost Rider couldn't escape.
No air meant no fuel for his flames, no strength to fight back.
In truth, Ethan had plenty of enemies in the Marvel universe—S.H.I.E.L.D., Magneto, even the likes of Professor X and the Ancient One had kept an eye on him.
But that was exactly why he played it safe, staying under the radar until he was truly ready.
Mutant abilities are undeniably powerful, but many of them are too specialized, making their users vulnerable to being countered.
This is why mutants have struggled for survival in a world that fears and hunts them.
However, as a mutant's power evolves, these weaknesses can be mitigated.
By the time one reaches Omega-level, they become something far beyond a simple mutant—they transcend into something closer to a god.
This evolution, this journey toward perfection, is what defines the path of an Omega-level mutant.
"You're strong," Ghost Rider rasped, rising from the rubble once again. Half of his skeletal frame was shattered, yet he stood as if it meant nothing.
Magma oozed from his wounds, forming new bone and reforming his tattered jacket.
His voice crackled like fire, laced with eerie certainty. "But you can't kill me. All I need is one opening."
Ethan Hunt scoffed, eyes narrowing. "You're really starting to piss me off."
Ghost Rider's semi-elemental nature made him absurdly resistant to physical damage.
Blows that should have torn through steel barely slowed him down.
If Ethan had someone like Cyclops on hand to blast him with an optic beam, this fight would already be over.
But there was no such luxury.
No missiles, no high-energy weapons, no backup.
Just Ethan and his mutant ability: vector control.
Magic fights magic.
But what Ghost Rider didn't seem to understand was that mutant abilities could do more than manipulate the physical world.
They could tap into fundamental forces just like magic—just by taking a different route.
The words of an Ancient One echoed in Ethan's mind. He didn't need to learn spells or chant incantations.
His power was already supernatural, a direct manipulation of physics itself.
Magic reshaped reality, but vector control dictated how reality moved.
If he could understand the principles behind magic, he could weaponize them in his own way.
Taking a slow breath, Ethan focused.
The air around him twisted, no longer swirling aimlessly but compressing, shifting.
The once chaotic winds now spiraled into a controlled vortex, forming a true tornado.
The pressure difference created an electrical charge, and suddenly, faint silver-blue light flickered in the storm—a plasma effect caused by the violent friction of air molecules.
Ghost Rider watched but showed no hesitation. "Your struggle is useless."
The engine of his chariot roared, belching hellfire, and the flames on his body surged higher, engulfing him completely.
In an instant, his entire form merged with the inferno, transforming into a monstrous, flaming skull.
It hurtled forward like a living meteor, an abyssal maw ready to devour everything in its path.
"So that's how it's gonna be?" Ethan muttered, smirking.
"Fine. Let me show you something new."
The tornado dissipated in an instant, as if it had never existed.
But in Ethan's outstretched hand, a crackling, silver-blue sphere hovered—plasma compressed and weaponized, feeding on the remnants of the storm.
What had started as a tiny flicker had expanded to the size of a basketball, pulsating with raw, untamed energy.
With a firm grip, Ethan launched himself forward, meeting the blazing skull head-on.
"Hope you like surprises," he taunted. "Vector-Magic Release—Rasengan!"