Five Years Later, Earth – Top Astronomical Observatory
"Impossible… This is absolutely impossible! The data is corrupted! The sensors have to be malfunctioning!"
After the third verification yielded the sa catastrophic result, the junior researcher stumbled from his terminal, his face ashen. He burst into the lead professor's office, his voice a strangled whisper. "Professor! The entire Proxima Centauri system… it's gone!"
The old professor rushed to the main survey screen. One glance at the deep-space teletry, and a cold, existential dread slicked his spine with sweat.
Proxima Centauri, Earth's nearest stellar neighbor at 4.24 light-years… was not there.
It wasn't a recorded supernova. There was no residual black hole signature, no expanding nebula of debris. It was… erased. As if a cosmic hand had taken a perfect, spherical eraser to that sector of the galaxy. The star, its planets, its asteroid belts, even the diffuse Oort cloud—all of it was simply missing, replaced by a profound, empty darkness that registered no background radiation, no quantum fluctuation. Pure cosmic void.
The professor stared at the holographic star map, its newly ford blank spot a screaming anomaly. A mory, buried under five years of bureaucratic reports and deliberate silence, surfaced. A vague, heavily redacted Hero Association communiqué about an "extra-systemic engagent" involving S-Class heroes King and 'Caped Baldy' against an "extradinsional entity."
"Oh, my God…" The words were a breath, not a prayer. He made an unconscious sign of the cross over his chest, a gesture from a childhood faith long abandoned. "What… are they? Are they even the sa species as us anymore?"
…
Ti returned to the mont of impact.
…
The collision between King's star-forged lava fist and Saitama's plain, cloth-wrapped knuckles did not produce a cataclysm.
It produced stillness.
A perfect, absolute silence swallowed the starfield. Even the ambient whisper of cosmic background radiation seed to halt in awe.
When Blast and his team dared to peek from their dinsional bolt-hole, the sight stole their capacity for speech.
The million-kiloter lava colossus was dissolving. Not exploding, but gracefully crumbling, its fiery substance cooling instantly in the vacuum into a breathtaking, glittering rain of hyper-dense crystalline matter—stellar ash turned to cosmic diamonds.
Hiss—
A sharp intake of breath, impossible in space, resonated in their minds. King floated amidst the glittering fallout, one hand pressed to the right side of his face. A spectacular, cartoonish swelling was already rising on his cheekbone—a bruise of cosmic proportions. Even with a body that had transcended a limiter, Saitama's punch was… definitive.
"Ahaha…" Saitama rubbed the back of his bald head, a picture of awkwardness. His uniform had been vaporized long ago. Noticing Shiv's presence, he hastily accepted the proffered spare cape from Blast and wrapped it around his waist like a makeshift loincloth. "Uh… sorry."
Blast's eye twitched violently. His voice, when it finally ca, was parched. "The question stands… are any of you actually human?"
"Of course we are!" Saitama replied with flawless, oblivious logic. He then turned to King, a flicker of genuine concern—mixed with transparent guilt—in his eyes. "King! Your face! It's, uh, really puffy. And I swear, I absolutely did not put any extra force into that punch because of the fifty-seven consecutive Fighting Fighters losses last week. Really!"
No one believed him.
King just waved a dismissive hand, the motion causing tiny spatial fractures to briefly shimr around his fingers. He gratefully accepted the advanced nano-gel ice pack Shiv practically thrust into his hands. The elf-warrior-scientist had closed the distance between them, her lithe body nearly pressed against his arm, her pointed ears quivering with excitent. Her appreciative gaze had already conducted a swift comparative analysis between the two human males; Saitama's… unassuming proportions didn't et her rigorous criteria for genetic procurent. King's impressive… physique, however, promised exceptional hybrid vigor.
"King-sama" Her voice was a silken purr. "This is our Xi Empire's proprietary nanite regenerative gel. It will repair cellular trauma at the picosecond level"
Blast watched his formidable teammate's conduct and sighed, massaging his temples. With a sharp clearing of his throat, he raised a hand. Complex, glowing blue runes spun from his fingertips, weaving together in the void. With a solid thrum of manifested energy, a stable, disc-shaped platform of force materialized beneath them all, providing a semblance of solid ground in the infinite dark.
"We need to talk," Blast said, his voice grave, his gaze sweeping over the three beings who had just used a star as a boxing glove. "About what just happened. About 'God'. And about what in the ever-loving hell we do now."
"Space-ti around here is still in flux. It'll be a few minutes before I can safely open a gate back," Blast explained, gesturing to the simple, energy-constructed seating. "Might as well sit. We have things to discuss."
They settled onto the translucent platforms. Even the unconscious Cosmic Garou was—sowhat unceremoniously—roused by a brisk slap from Saitama and nudged into a seat, accepting a steaming cup of tea from Blast with a dazed scowl.
"So," King began, taking a sip of the oddly refreshing, glowing energy drink Sif had pressed into his hands. Her fingers lingered against his a mont too long. "You've been in dinsional space for twenty years, fighting this 'God'?"
Blast nodded, his weathered face turning grave. He set his cup down and swept his hands apart. A complex, three-dinsional holographic star map blood in the void between them. Countless pinpricks of light—representing civilizations—twinkled across the galaxy, but a distressing pattern erged: most flickered brightly for a ti, only to be snuffed out abruptly upon reaching a certain technological or spiritual threshold.
"'God' possesses an instinctual drive to cull civilizations," Blast said, his voice low. "Like a child burning anthills with a magnifying glass. It's a reflex, a form of… cosmic amusent."
As he spoke, a blurry, shifting silhouette superimposed itself on the star map. It had no true form—sotis a vast, nebula-like sar, other tis a dense, humanoid sphere of light. But in every iteration, it radiated a palpable, soul-crushing oppression.
"He selects individuals from promising civilizations," Blast continued, zooming in on a dying star-system. "He bestows power—often disguised as a boon, a wish, a revelation—and then… he watches. He watches them use that power to tear their own worlds apart. For sport."
"Heh," Garou sneered, the last remnants of his stardust form dissolving to reveal his human face, etched with contempt. "Sounds like a spoiled brat with too much power."
Sif gave a graceful nod. "The Xi Empire stands as the Milky Way's sole sustained Type III civilization precisely because we discovered a thod to… obscure ourselves from His perception." As she spoke, her luminous eyes remained fixed on King, a gaze of intense, scholarly admiration that felt anything but purely academic.
Noticing the direction of her attention, the lion-man Ryan coughed and added with a rumbling, knowing tone, "Princess Sif is the sole heir to the Xi Empire's Celestial Throne. Her bloodline is the purest and most potent in ten thousand star-cycles~"
"Ryan!" Sif's fair skin flushed a deep violet, her pointed ears quivering. But she quickly mastered her embarrassnt, leaning closer to King, her voice a conspiratorial, heated whisper. "If… if you were willing to visit the Xi Empire… I would be most honored to… to collaborate on a hybrid offspring. For the advancent of both our species, of course."
The directness of the proposal made King sputter into his drink. Interstellar marriage? Is this how it starts? His gaze flickered, against his will, to Sif's formidable and undeniably exquisite physiology, particularly the impressive 'snowy peaks' that rose and fell with her eager breath. Well… the alien aesthetic does have its rits… I just hope the biological 'ports' are compatible…
The conversation moved on, covering God's known behavioral patterns and the "Wall of Sighs"—a massive, multi-dinsional barrier Blast's team maintained to slow His encroachnts.
Finally, Blast turned his full attention to Garou, his expression earnest. "Garou, the fragnt of God's power you intercepted and absorbed… it's an invaluable sample. Studying it could let us understand His essence, find a true weakness. Join us. Join the Galaxy Watchers. Fighting to protect countless worlds from a cosmic predator… it's a far purer form of 'strength' than any 'Absolute Evil' on a single planet."
Dinsional wars. Cosmic-level foes. A purpose spanning star systems. Garou listened, a wild, eager light growing in his eyes. He threw his head back and laughed. "Ha! Now that sounds like a—"
The word "worthy fight" never left his lips.
A voice erupted inside his skull, cold, vast, and vibrating with infinite, scornful rage.
"SILENCE. WHAT I BESTOW, I CAN REVOKE."
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