Spaceship – Throne Room
Dark purple energy surged around Boros like boiling magma, his power-restricting armor cracking inch by inch.
As the final tal fragnt shattered and clattered to the ground, the cosmic overlord revealed his true form.
His entire body glowed with a faint blue light, energy patterns writhing like living creatures across his skin. His single eye burned with a fighting spirit fierce enough to incinerate stars.
The sheer eruption of power dimd the very stars beyond the ship's hull.
And just then, amid the chaos, a calm voice reached Saitama's ear.
Kaito—controlling his ch clone—transmitted clearly:
"Saitama, my brother, you see that huge pink orb behind the throne? That's the heart of this entire ship, the core for space jumps. We're about to strike it rich!"
Saitama, who had been staring at Boros's "transformation special effects" with childlike curiosity, blinked. A huge question mark practically floated above his bald head.
"Strike it rich?"
"Exactly!"
Kaito's ch clone pointed at the glowing orb, voice full of temptation.
"Think about it. With this ship—capable of traversing the star sea—the universe is wide open. Sowhere out there, you might actually find an opponent strong enough to fight you to your heart's content.
Imagine it: alien powerhouses who shatter stars with a single punch, Saiyans who evolve infinitely through battle, ancient Gods of Destruction awakening from slumber...
Hell, maybe we'd even stumble across so kind of 'Tournant of Power'—a multiverse-wide brawl hosted by a Creator God who's just bored! Better than you moping on Earth, complaining about mosquitoes, right?"
Saitama froze, then squinted.
"Who said I can't swat mosquitoes? But… 'Tournant of Power'?"
For the first ti in ages, the dull haze of invincible loneliness cracked open, letting possibility pour through.
"Good idea, King! Let's do it!"
Kaito clapped him on the shoulder, grinning through the ch clone.
"That's the spirit. But listen carefully—when you fight, don't destroy that orb. That's our ticket to the cosmos. Blast this one-eyed freak out of the ship instead. If possible... throw him to the moon or sothing!"
Saitama gave him a serious nod, puffing out his chest with confidence.
"Leave it to ! I'll keep the ship intact!"
As the two casually planned their future cosmic adventures—utterly ignoring the situation—Boros completed his transformation.
He floated in the air, wreathed in a storm of destructive purple energy. His single eye blazed with fury and… humiliation.
He heard everything.
These two Earthlings dared to sche about taking his flagship—the warship that symbolized the might of countless conquered civilizations—right in front of him?
"Despicable little worms! How dare you covet the Overlord's treasure?! I'll kill you—seriously!!!"
The alloy floor beneath Boros's feet disintegrated into dust.
The mont his figure vanished, the sound barrier itself shattered.
He didn't teleport. His speed alone reached an inconceivable level. In an instant, Boros was before Saitama, fist raised high.
That punch—wrapped in an energy stream tearing through space—was powerful enough to break continents apart. The shockwave alone hit like an invisible teor.
"Crack—BOOM!"
Kaito's battered ch clone, standing between them, was obliterated instantly. It couldn't last even a millisecond against that pure, unrestrained force. tal fragnts vaporized as if tossed into a star's core, leaving no trace behind.
Back at his main body, Kaito felt the sharp sting of connection loss—the final proof his clone had been erased.
anwhile, Saitama's body shot backwards like a cannonball, smashed through layer after layer of alloy bulkheads, and finally buried itself in a mountain of twisted wreckage.
Smoke and sparks filled the corridor.
Boros hovered at the breach, one eye locked on the ruins. His energy boiled hotter and hotter. He waited for his opponent to rise—to answer his power.
A low rumble.
Saitama erged from the wreckage, brushing dust off his yellow battle suit. His cape hung in tatters, but his body was completely unscathed.
Yet his usual dazed expression was gone. Replaced by… genuine annoyance.
He glanced first at the torn cape. Then at the mangled corridors he'd plowed through. Finally, his gaze fixed squarely on Boros.
"Hey…" Saitama's voice dropped, weighty and rare in its seriousness."You broke King's toy… you dirtied my cape… and worst of all—you almost broke our ship."
Boros's pupil contracted violently.
The aura now radiating from Saitama was so suffocating, so terrifying, it eclipsed everything before.
He barely had ti to question when this "ship" beca theirs—before Saitama's presence simply vanished.
"Serious Series—"
His figure blurred, leaving only a flicker of light.
And then—
The next instant!
He appeared like a ghost beneath Boros—so close that Boros could see his own shocked reflection glinting off Saitama's bald head.
"—Serious Consecutive Punches!"
There was no dazzling light, no thunderous roar of an energy clash.
Only the purest, most unreasonable physical force.
From the bottom up, Saitama's fists hamred Boros's jaw with surgical precision, each blow stacked upon the last.
Ti seed to halt.
The astonishnt on Boros's face twisted into incomprehension, then agony, and finally into a complete loss of control. His proud body—the body that had endured star-destroying weapons—crumbled like paper before this plain, almost casual assault.
He didn't even have ti to think of resistance.
"WHOOSH—!!!"
A purple teor blasted through the alloy do of the ship, tearing the atmosphere apart. The impact warped the very air, bending space in its wake.
The unstoppable mass streaked toward the gray-white satellite hanging above—the Moon.
Saitama tilted his head up, tracking Boros's vanishing trail. He nodded with satisfaction.
"Mm. The location looks about right."
He rolled his wrist, bending his knees slightly.
"Serious Series—"
BOOM!
The alloy deck beneath him—designed to withstand the main cannons of an interstellar warship—shattered instantly, collapsing into a massive crater under his feet.
"—Serious Jump!"
In a golden-yellow flash, Saitama rocketed into the sky, chasing after the purple teor. His speed eclipsed even Boros's, a streak of light spearing through the atmosphere toward the Moon.
Behind them, the throne room lay in ruins.
Yet in the center, untouched and pulsing softly, the pink "subspace core" remained—waiting silently in the chaos, like a heart beating in the dark.
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