In the crater below, Orach lay motionless, half-buried in rubble. His long golden hair was matted with dust and debris. The explosion had caught him completely off guard.
Then, a golden glow pulsed beneath the debris.
Orach's eyes snapped open, blazing. His armor blazed with brilliant light across its surface. In the critical instant of the explosion, it had sensed the threat and activated, forming a complete protective shell around him. The blast's force had driven him into the ground, but the armor had deflected the destructive energy.
Citro had underestimated the armor's capabilities.
"Argh..." Orach grunted, pushing rubble off himself as he rose to his knees. His armor's glow faded. His breathing came heavy, his vision swimming momentarily. As it cleared and he looked up through the crater, his gaze fell on something in the darkened sky that made his eyes widen.
The moon.
The artificial planet's moon hung above, larger and more luminous than before. The Higher Realm energies that had saturated this system had strengthened it as well. It glowed with an eerie light, radiating waves that Orach's heightened Super Saiyan 3 senses immediately detected.
Blutz waves.
'No... not now...'
But it was too late. His enhanced perception—the very thing that had given him such an advantage—now worked against him. The Blutz waves flooded his senses, triggering something primal buried in his Saiyan blood. In his current state—Super Saiyan 3, emotions running high with battle fury—there was no stopping it.
Lub-dub.
A single heartbeat echoed across the crater, impossibly loud.
Lub-dub... Lub-dub...
Louder now, resonating with power that made the air tremble.
Lub-dub... Lub-dub... Lub-dub...
Orach clutched his chest, eyes widening as his heart raced uncontrollably. A memory flashed through his mind—Cyborg's words about his vision. He couldn't help but tremble.
"GAAAHHH!"
His body began expanding. Muscles swelled rapidly as golden fur sprouted across his skin. His armor stretched and adapted. His face elongated, features becoming bestial.
Within seconds, a massive Golden Oozaru towered where Orach had stood—a 60-meter great ape covered in brilliant golden fur, eyes glowing red with primal power. The legendary transformation that had become myth in the Higher Realms had reemerged.
"ROOOOAAARRR!"
The Golden Oozaru's roar shook the region, its power eclipsing Orach's Super Saiyan 3 form. But something was wrong. The creature clutched its head, shaking it violently and releasing guttural groans. Orach's consciousness—already strained by Super Saiyan 3—was drowning in primal instinct and rage.
The creature's red eyes pulsed. Then something unprecedented happened.
The Golden Oozaru's form shifted further. Muscles expanded again, growing even more massive. The golden fur took on a greenish tint—subtle at first, then pronounced—until it blazed with golden-green light. Its eyes shifted from red to pure white, glowing with terrifying intensity.
The transformation had triggered something deeper. Orach's Ancient Saiyan bloodline, responding to his overwhelming rage and power, pushed the evolution into uncharted territory.
Where a Golden Oozaru had stood, something else now towered—larger, more powerful, completely uncontrollable. A beast of pure destruction driven only by rage.
"ROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!"
The Golden-Green Oozaru's roar tore through what remained of the sky. Its power—far surpassing even the Golden Oozaru state—radiated in crushing waves that flattened everything for miles. Wherever the energy spread, color seemed to drain from the broken world. The ground cracked and splintered beneath its feet as the beast beat its massive chest.
High above, the bead containing Citro's consciousness was meters from the closing rift when the roar reached it. The Tuffle gene pulsed with alarm.
'What is that?! That power signature... impossible! How is he alive?!'
The Golden-Green Oozaru's white eyes locked onto the closing spatial rift. Something about the dimensional distortion attracted its attention—registering as a threat to destroy.
Its jaws opened. Energy gathered in its throat with terrifying speed—golden-green light condensing into concentrated destructive power.
"ROOOAAR!"
The beast fired a massive beam—a column of golden-green destruction screaming toward the rift.
Citro detected the incoming attack a fraction of a second before impact. Survival instincts kicked in. The bead shifted—barely centimeters to the side.
The beam nicked the compressed gene, sending it spinning wildly off course. The energy blast continued through the closing rift, disappearing into dimensional space as the tear sealed shut.
BOOM!
The rift collapsed with a thunderous implosion, leaving no trace. The pathway to the Higher Realms—Citro's escape route—was gone.
The bead tumbled through space, trailing wisps of grey energy. Citro's consciousness screamed in rage.
'NO! My way home!'
As his awareness focused on the world below, shock replaced rage.
'That form... it can't be... the Golden Oozaru? No—something's different. What is that greenish tint... those white eyes... the sheer size and power... This goes beyond the legend. Just what has this Saiyan become?'
The Golden Oozaru had been legendary in the Higher Realms—capable of razing entire worlds. But this was something more primal, more powerful. Something that made his soul tremble.
'An evolution beyond the legend...'
The beast had already begun its rampage. It beat its chest, roared, then fired another beam at the distant landscape. Golden-green energy carved through everything, vaporizing all in its path.
"ROOOOOAAAARRRR!"
The Golden-Green Oozaru turned, firing again and again. Massive beams shot in random directions, each leaving devastation. No strategy, no conscious thought—only destructive instinct.
Citro watched this mindless annihilation. The humiliation of defeat, the loss of his vessel, the destruction of his escape—all crystallized into pure hatred.
'This Saiyan... his family... ruined my plans. And now he's destroyed my chance to return! EVERYTHING destroyed by him!'
A terrible decision formed in his mind. Logically, he knew he should be fleeing—preserving what remained, rebuilding while laying low. But logic had no place in a heart consumed by wounded pride and rage.
'No! I am an Ancient Emperor! I survived the Great War! I will not be driven away by some primitive beast!'
The compressed gene pulsed with grey light. He would burn 97% of his soul power to manifest his true form one final time.
'If I'm trapped in these Lower Realms, then you die first, Saiyan! I'll use my Emperor Soul Body and crush you!'
Grey energy exploded from the bead, expanding rapidly, sending shockwaves throughout the Vega sector. The energy swirled and condensed, taking shape.
The form grew exponentially—ten feet, fifty, a hundred, continuing upward. Grey energy solidified into a massive ethereal body that towered above the broken planet.
Within minutes, Citro's Late Stage Emperor Soul Body had fully manifested—a titanic grey humanoid form dwarfing everything in the Vega System.
The Soul Body's eyes opened—vast grey orbs burning with malevolent power. Citro felt at his old peak and sensed the primordial laws once more.
When it spoke, its voice resonated across planets, audible even in vacuum through sheer force of will.
"SAIYAN!"
The word created shockwaves that rattled moons and disrupted orbits. Below, even the mindless Golden-Green Oozaru paused, white eyes looking up at the impossibly massive form.
Citro's Soul Body leaned down, one enormous hand reaching toward the planet. Each finger, imbued with the Primordial Law of Light, cast shadows covering entire hemispheres.
"YOU DESTROYED MY VESSEL! YOU RUINED MY PLANS! YOU TRAPPED ME IN THIS INFERIOR REALM! FOR THAT, I WILL ERASE EVERY TRACE OF YOUR EXISTENCE!"
The Golden-Green Oozaru responded the only way its rage-addled mind could—with violence. It gathered a massive sphere of golden-green energy in its jaws.
"ROOOAAARRR!"
Sensing danger instinctually, the beast fired its most destructive beam at the descending hand. Golden-green energy struck the Soul Body's palm, creating an explosion that shook the hemisphere.
Citro's eyes widened momentarily in surprise—the attack actually forced his hand back. But then his expression hardened. He channeled more energy into his attack.
"JUST DIE!"
The massive hand pressed down with overwhelming force. The beam began faltering, golden-green energy flickering as the grey palm drew closer.
Then something changed.
The Golden-Green Oozaru's white eyes blazed brighter. Its Ancient Saiyan blood responded to the threat. The beast's chest expanded, drawing power from its very core. The beam suddenly intensified—doubling, then tripling in power.
"ROOOOOAAAAAARRR!"
The reinforced beam slammed into Citro's hand with renewed fury. The palm stopped its descent, held back by sheer destructive force.
"IMPOSSIBLE! YOU'RE JUST A BEAST! HOW CAN YOU MATCH EMPEROR-LEVEL POWER?!"
But the Golden-Green Oozaru wasn't just matching—it was beginning to overpower. The beam pushed forward inch by inch, forcing the massive hand back. Cracks of golden-green light spread across the Soul Body's palm.
The titanic clash created shockwaves rippling across the broken planet. Each pulse sent tremors through the remaining crust. The ground fractured further, massive chunks breaking away.
Then, from somewhere distant, a new sound emerged—a deep rumble growing steadily louder.
The ground began tearing apart. This had been building since Diana and Rachel's clash first weakened space itself, causing cracks to spread.
Far from the battling titans, reality shattered through the widening crack, revealing absolute darkness—a void that consumed light itself.
A spatial rift.
The primordial laws of space, strained to their limits during previous battles, had reached their breaking point. The cracks had expanded during Orach and Citro's clash. When Citro unleashed that massive final attack before detonating his vessel, it was the last stress the weakened fabric could endure.
The laws shattered at their weakest point, tearing reality itself.
At first, the rift was small—barely meters across. But it grew quickly, pulling in debris, atmosphere, anything nearby. The suction was relentless, growing stronger as the rift expanded.
Neither combatant noticed. Citro focused on overcoming the beast's resistance. The Golden-Green Oozaru knew only rage and the instinct to destroy the threat before it.
The rift continued growing. Ten meters. Fifty. A hundred. Chunks of the planet's surface slid toward it, breaking away and disappearing into the void. The suction created howling winds pulling everything toward oblivion.
Still they fought on, locked in deadly struggle.
The Golden-Green Oozaru's beam intensified further, pushing back the Soul Body's hand more and more. Citro's disbelief was evident even on his massive ethereal face.
"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! EVEN AS JUST A SOUL, MY POWER SHOULD CRUSH YOU!"
But the golden-green beam advanced steadily, forcing the grey hand back. Cracks spread across the Soul Body's palm, extending up the fingers.
Then Citro caught movement in his peripheral vision. He saw massive sections breaking away, sliding toward something. His attention shifted momentarily to the expanding spatial rift.
It had grown enormous—several miles across. The suction pulled continental-sized chunks. The rift had become impossible to ignore, a gaping wound consuming everything.
Citro's mind, despite his rage, immediately recognized both danger and opportunity.
"So the spatial laws have finally collapsed completely. Perfect."
The Golden-Green Oozaru's beam continued pushing against his hand, cracks spreading further. Citro realized with alarm he couldn't maintain this clash much longer. The beast's power was absurd—actually threatening his Late Stage Emperor Soul Body.
But he didn't need to win anymore.
Citro pulled his hand back sharply and moved away from the direct clash. The Golden-Green Oozaru's beam, suddenly meeting no resistance, surged forward unopposed—its momentum carrying it past where Citro's palm had been. It traveled through space, destroying everything in its path.
"If I cannot destroy you directly, then I'll let the void do it!"
In one fluid motion, Citro swept his massive arms in a wide arc toward nearby celestial bodies. He didn't try to grab the beast—that would leave him vulnerable to another devastating counterattack. Instead, he channeled his Soul Body's power outward, creating massive waves of grey energy that rippled through space itself.
The energy surged toward nearby celestial bodies—the broken moon, several drifting planetoids. His power gripped them like invisible hands, then hurled them toward the Golden-Green Oozaru in rapid succession. Each impact aimed to force the beast backward, toward the rift.
But the Golden-Green Oozaru, despite its mindless state, possessed battle instincts honed by ancient bloodline. The beast sensed the attack. Its white eyes blazed with fury.
"ROOOOAAARRR!"
Instead of being pushed, the beast planted its massive feet, digging deep into the crumbling ground. Its muscles bulged further as it gathered power. Multiple spheres of golden-green energy formed around it—dozens pulsing with devastating force.
Then it attacked.
The Oozaru fired everything at once—a barrage screaming toward the celestial bodies being hurled at it and toward Citro's Soul Body from multiple angles.
"WHAT?!"
Citro's Soul Body raised both hands defensively, creating grey barriers. But too many attacks came too fast. Several punched through, striking his massive form directly, while the celestial bodies disintegrated under the onslaught.
Each impact tore chunks from his form, dispersing the concentrated energy that comprised him. Citro screamed—a sound echoing across star systems.
"AARRRGGH! YOU BEAST! YOU MONSTER!"
The Oozaru didn't stop. It continued firing blast after blast, pouring all its rage and power into the assault. The beast beat its chest between attacks, roaring fury at the thing that dared threaten it.
Citro's Soul Body began shrinking. Each hit drained the stored energy he'd burned to manifest this form. Cracks spread across the massive grey form, pieces breaking away.
He tried retreating, but the Golden-Green Oozaru pursued relentlessly.
"No... NO! I won't end like this! Not to some mindless beast! NOT AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE SURVIVED!"
But as Citro's Soul Body continued shrinking, torn apart by the relentless barrage, something else happened. The spatial rift, fed by the massive energies being unleashed, had grown even larger. It now dominated the battlefield, its pull so strong that even the combatants couldn't resist.
The ground beneath the Oozaru gave way completely. Massive chunks broke free, sliding toward the void. The beast roared in surprise as it lost its footing, beginning to tumble toward the rift.
Citro's shrinking Soul Body—now barely building-sized—was also caught in the pull. Despite his desperate resistance, the suction was too powerful. Both combatants, still locked in battle, were drawn inexorably toward the spatial tear.
"CURSE YOU! CURSE YOU, SAIYAN! CURSE YOUR BLOODLINE! CURSE EVERYTHING YOU ARE!"
"ROOOAAAARRRRRR!"
The Oozaru responded with another roar and fired one more massive beam as both crossed the rift's threshold, disappearing into the void beyond.
Inside the Unstable Rift
The battle continued even as everything pulled into the rift crumbled around them.
The Golden-Green Oozaru, disoriented by chaotic spatial currents but still consumed by primal fury, refused to relent. In its mindless state, the beast knew only one imperative, destroy the grey figure. Its white eyes blazed with rage as it unleashed blast after blast of golden-green energy into the churning void.
Each explosion sent shockwaves rippling through the unstable tunnel, fracturing the passage further. The rift hadn't been designed to contain such power—every attack pushed it closer to complete collapse.
Citro's Soul Body had diminished to human size as he desperately navigated the treacherous currents. His once-mighty Emperor-level manifestation was now a flickering shadow struggling to maintain coherence.
"Stop this madness, you beast!" Fear cracked through his voice. "Can't you sense it? You're tearing the rift apart! We'll both be scattered across infinite realms!"
But the Oozaru understood nothing beyond ancient Saiyan instinct: destroy the enemy. No survival instinct, no self-preservation—only the overwhelming drive to eliminate threats. The beast snarled, gathering energy from its core.
Dozens of golden-green spheres once more materialized around its massive frame, each pulsing with concentrated power. Its chest expanded as it prepared to release everything at once.
"ROOOAAAAWWWR!"
The barrage launched. Energy flooded the dimensional tunnel, each blast triggering cascading explosions that destabilized the passage even further.
Citro conjured desperate barriers of grey energy, deflecting some attacks—but most punched straight through. Each hit tore away chunks of his essence, dispersing the energy holding his consciousness together.
"I refuse to end like this! Not to some mindless beast!"
His protests meant nothing. With each strike, Citro's form shrank further. The Soul Body that had once spanned star systems now measured mere meters across.
Around them, the tunnel entered its death throes.
Cracks spider-webbed through the spatial passage. The tunnel had been a temporary wound in existence—never meant to contain such devastating power. Now the energies unleashed within were tearing it apart from the inside.
New rifts branched along the tunnel's length like fractured glass—smaller tears leading to unknown destinations. Each fracture created a diverging pathway, a gateway to different realities across the myriad realms.
The Oozaru sensed the growing instability on a primal level but couldn't comprehend what it meant. The beast simply gathered its remaining power for one final strike. Its chest expanded, charging the attack.
"ROOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRR!"
A concentrated column of pure destruction erupted, momentarily illuminating the dying tunnel.
Citro's Soul Body, reduced to a compressed core of consciousness, had nowhere to run. The golden-green energy struck with devastating force.
"NOOOOOO—"
The Tuffle Emperor's form shattered. His Soul Body dispersed, consciousness fragmenting into countless pieces. But deep within, one final fragment endured—his last contingency. The bead cracked and released a single droplet of grey blood, containing compressed genetic essence, fragmented memories, a wisp of soul. Everything he was, condensed to its most fundamental form.
The tunnel couldn't withstand the final blast. Combined with the critical instability, it triggered catastrophic ruptures.
The passage exploded into dozens of diverging rifts, each leading to different corners of the myriad realms. Energies that had been contained burst outward, creating a cascade of dimensional fractures.
A dimensional tear opened directly beneath the grey droplet, pulling it in instantly. The droplet tumbled through a spiraling vortex toward some unknown realm. Within it, a thought whispered across dimensions: "I will... return..."
Then Citro's consciousness faded into dormancy, his genetic essence entering preservation mode—waiting, hiding, surviving until it could rebuild.
The Golden-Green Oozaru, still roaring with mindless defiance, was caught by a different rupture. A larger, more violent rift opened beneath the beast. Despite its massive power, the pull proved overwhelming.
The beast thrashed, massive arms reaching for anything to hold, but found nothing solid in this space. Its golden-green aura flared desperately as Orach's transformed body was dragged toward the tear.
"ROOOOOAAAAAARRRRR—"
The roar echoed across dimensional boundaries—pure defiance against incomprehensible forces. The Golden-Green Oozaru vanished into a separate passage, pulled toward an entirely different destination than Citro's. Something small tumbled through the rift right behind it.
Then the tunnel collapsed completely. The rifts sealed one by one as space's primordial laws rushed to repair the damage. Within moments, no trace remained.
In one reality, a droplet of grey blood would eventually find a world—and with it, a new beginning.
In another reality, a Golden-Green Oozaru would crash into an entirely different world. Whether its arrival would bring salvation or devastation remained to be seen.
But, for now, the battle was over.
Minutes earlier - Beyond the rift, the Vega Sector was dying.
The spatial disturbance expanded with relentless hunger, its gravitational pull intensifying by the second. Celestial bodies throughout the sector—starting from Psion space—lurched from orbits they'd maintained for eons, dragged inexorably toward oblivion. The fundamental laws of physics began to unravel.
Stars drifted from their ancient positions. Planets tore free from stable trajectories. Across dozens of systems, entire worlds tumbled toward destruction—some spiraling into their suns, others simply disintegrating under gravitational stress.
"All vessels, emergency evacuation protocols!" The call echoed across every Alliance frequency. "Every ship with atmospheric capability—get people off-world now!"
Alliance commanders coordinated through the chaos. Transport ships, fighters, civilian shuttles—anything with engines was pressed into service. On dying worlds, millions flooded toward launch sites as crimson skies heralded their end.
Even Tamaran couldn't escape. The jewel of the Vega Sector lurched sunward, its orbit collapsing. Within hours, half the planet faced its star. Continents liquefied. Oceans flash-boiled into superheated steam. Millennia-old cities became rivers of molten slag.
Aboard her flagship, Princess Koriand'r pressed her palms against the observation window. Her reflection stared back—emerald eyes wide, face drained of color. Beyond the viewport, Tamaran burned.
She could see the continent of her birth. The palace where she'd trained. The gardens where she'd played as a child. All of it consumed by fire.
"No..." Her voice cracked. "Please... someone stop this..." Her fingers curled against the viewport. "X'Hal, please..."
Dick stood behind her, face ashen. He'd witnessed tragedies before—Gotham had taught him about loss. But watching an entire world die?
His hands found her shoulders. "Kori..."
She trembled. When she turned, her gaze was fragile, unsteady. Her newfound strength meant nothing now. She shook her head in denial, then collapsed against him, burying her face in his chest as sobs wracked her body.
"I couldn't... I wasn't strong enough... My people... my world..."
"This wasn't your fault." Dick held her tightly, his own eyes burning. "No one could have stopped this."
The words felt hollow even as he spoke them.
Around them, Tamaranean survivors wept openly. Warriors who'd never flinched in battle fell to their knees. The sound of an entire people grieving filled the ship's corridors—a cry of pain too vast to comprehend.
The evacuation fleet pushed beyond safe limits. Behind them, space itself screamed. Ships caught at the disruption's edges simply disintegrated—hulls fragmenting as spacetime unraveled, crew and passengers lost instantly.
The surviving vessels carried the last remnants of dozens of civilizations. Bridge crews flew with gritted teeth and heavy hearts, knowing every second meant more lives saved or lost.
Behind them, the anomaly continued its inexorable growth. The rift in Psion space expanded outward, threatening neighboring sectors. The wound in reality deepened, consuming everything in its path.
Then, just as total catastrophe seemed inevitable, something changed.
Not far from the rift, reality rippled. The darkness of space deepened, as if something impossibly vast was displacing the fabric of existence itself.
A massive cosmic silhouette took shape. Twin eyes blazed into existence like stars of pure power burning with authority over the fundamental laws of this realm. The being's form existed across multiple realities simultaneously, crackling with cosmic energy. Manifesting fully in this reality—now imbued with traces of God Ki from Orach—required time. Minutes passed before it fully emerged.
A weapon materialized in its grasp. A hammer that dwarfed planets hummed with primordial energy—a tool of creation and destruction. Cosmic power flowed through it.
The entity raised the hammer. Its voice resonated across dimensions—not heard, but felt in the soul by every higher-order being in this realm.
"ENOUGH."
The hammer fell.
It struck the rift directly. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through spacetime itself. Cosmic power flooded the tear in reality—not destroying it, but rewriting the broken fundamental laws.
The rift's energy pulsed, resisting. It fought to remain open like an infected wound refusing to heal. Dark energy crackled and lashed out, attempting to consume the cosmic power arrayed against it.
The entity was relentless. The hammer struck again. And again. Each blow compressed the rift, forcing it closed through sheer cosmic will.
The rift began contracting—slowly at first, then faster. Reality sealed the wound in its fabric, dimensional laws reasserting themselves under the entity's guidance. The terrible suction reversed. The consuming darkness was pushed back into non-existence.
Within minutes, the rift had shrunk to a fraction of its former size. The cosmic entity struck one final time. The tear sealed completely, leaving only a faint shimmer—a scar on reality that would take eons to heal.
The entity lowered its hammer. Its blazing eyes narrowed—not at what lay before it, but at what it had glimpsed in the instant before sealing the rift.
Or rather, what it had failed to glimpse.
Through that tear in reality, its cosmic sight had perceived nothing. Even its awareness couldn't penetrate the rift to see beyond.
"A realm beyond the boundary wall..."
Only one explanation made sense. The rift had breached the fundamental barrier defining the limits of creation—the Source Wall itself. Despite its cosmic power, the entity remained bound to this realm, its sight confined within the Wall's boundaries.
The entity's expression darkened. Its gaze swept across the burning Vega Sector, taking in the devastation wrought by powers that should never have manifested here.
"Mother was right. These Higher Realm beings destabilize the natural order. Their conflict nearly sundered the fabric of reality itself. This cannot continue."
The cosmic entity's form began to fade, its task complete. It dispersed back into the universe's fundamental forces, returning to eternal vigil. But its awareness remained—watching, waiting, contemplating how to counter such forces should they threaten existence again.
With the rift sealed, the primordial laws began to stabilize once more.
The Alliance fleet, now far from the disaster zone, slowed its desperate flight. Ships gathered into loose formation. Inside, survivors held each other and wept, struggling to process the magnitude of what had happened.
They were alive. They were free.
But the cost had shattered them.
In the days that followed, the massive fleet drifted through space. Survivors grappled with an impossible question, where could billions of displaced refugees go? What civilization would—or could—open its borders to suffering of this magnitude?
Debates grew heated, sometimes brutal. In cramped quarters and makeshift assembly halls, tempers flared as exhaustion frayed nerves already raw from grief.
"We should split up," Ryand'r argued aboard his ship, the Tamaranian Dawn. "Smaller groups have better chances of finding sanctuary. No single world can absorb us all."
"And abandon what's left of our unity?" Sel'ana shot back. "We're stronger together. We've already lost our homes—we can't lose each other too."
"Strength doesn't feed empty bellies!" someone shouted in the meeting.
The fleet limped into a neighboring sector to restock supplies and treat the wounded. Medical bays overflowed. Food synthesizers ran at maximum capacity but couldn't keep pace with demand. Every resource stretched dangerously thin.
For three agonizing days, the arguments raged. Factions formed and dissolved. Plans were proposed and torn apart. Some advocated scattering across multiple systems. Others insisted on staying unified at any cost. A few suggested establishing a nomadic fleet culture, never settling anywhere.
Through it all, Empress Koriand'r and Dick—known throughout the fleet as Nightwing—worked tirelessly. They mediated disputes, coordinated logistics, and held the fragile coalition together through sheer force of will.
Finally, on the fourth day, after a portion of the fleet departed to forge their own path, exhaustion and grudging pragmatism forced the remaining survivors to consensus.
"Earth," Koriand'r said quietly during the final council session. Her voice carried quiet determination. "Nightwing's world has shown me that different peoples can coexist. They cannot accommodate us all, but there are people who can help us rebuild. Good people who understand what it means to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves."
The silence that followed was heavy with uncertainty. Then, one by one, the council members nodded.
The fleet set course for the distant blue world, carrying the last hope of countless survivors toward a new beginning.
Meanwhile on Earth - Unspoken Waters - The Graveyard of Gods
"Your attack was successful." A deep voice resonated from the water orb hovering at the platform's center, sea currents spiraling around the ancient structure.
"Yes." Orm stood tall, gripping a dark blue trident—a gift from his new allies. The weapon hummed with power, its prongs glowing faintly. "Despite minor complications, we succeeded. The Heavenly Court has received our message."
"Indeed. Your attack produced exactly what we needed. More humans pray to us out of fear and desperation every day. Their faith energy flows to us stronger than ever."
"Then you all have a fresh supply." Orm's lips curved slightly. "How long until you can descend?"
"Patience, Orm." A warning edge crept into the calm tone of the voice. "Soon. The waves you created, the destruction of their coastal lands, the terror spreading among the masses—all of it feeds us. Soon we'll have enough power to manifest fully in the mortal realm. Then we can truly begin."
"I understand." Orm nodded, then paused before speaking again carefully. "It would be faster if we attacked the Indian Ocean. We could create far greater chaos there. The population density alone—"
The water orb's surface rippled violently. "Orm of Atlantis." The voice turned cold. "You have been warned. Do not repeat a motion already rejected by our godking, Lady Amaterasu."
"Why?" Orm's grip tightened on the trident, frustration edging into his voice. "I've proven my worth, haven't I? I'm keeping my end of the deal. I think I've earned the right to understand the full picture."
He took out an orb and projected a hologram of Earth. "The Indian subcontinent has the population density we need. With our combined power and this weapon you've given me, we could unleash chaos across the entire region. We'd generate more faith energy in weeks than months of work along the Chinese coast. So tell me honestly Susano—why avoid it?"
After a long pause, the voice spoke again. "Every pantheon has mad ones—unpredictable beings beyond reason. Anything below godking level is manageable. But nothing is more dangerous than a mad godking, or those who rank above."
"It's just one godking, right?" Orm raised an eyebrow. "One whose name isn't even as well-known as the late Zeus's."
"Just a godking?" Susano's laughter boomed across the space. "You say that because you don't understand the true hierarchy of power."
Just as Orm's expression turned solemn at the mockery, Susano's voice grew deadly serious. "Zeus, Odin, Amun-Ra—they're known to mortals because they actively participate in your realm. Our pantheon is no different. But the three supreme godkings of India? They remain hidden by choice, not weakness."
"Among them is one called the Destroyer, an utterly unpredictable and a complete madman. He's normally contained by the other two and his consort. But in an age forgotten by mortals, Zeus's arrogance sparked a war. Zeus, Odin, Lady Amaterasu, and Amun-Ra clashed across the heavens. Their battle carved valleys and boiled seas. Their battle eventually encroached upon India and harmed innocents—believers of the Hindu Pantheon."
"Many mortal believers died in the crossfire. That's when in defense of their faithful he intervened." Susano's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "He descended alone. No army. No warning. Just him."
"He nearly shattered Odin's spear with his bare hands. Turned Amun-Ra's sun against him. Caught Lady Amaterasu's flames and extinguished them like candles. Zeus threw everything—lightning that splits mountains, thunder that deafens gods. The supreme walked through it all untouched."
"But, Zeus, in his pride, refused to yield. He committed an act so unforgivable that even now, we dare not speak of it. That's when the supreme stopped holding back and unleashed his true might."
Susano's voice trembled. "I watched from my realm. Every godking who witnessed it fled—not retreated, fled—abandoning all dignity, scrambling back to their domains like mortals before a tsunami. Lady Amaterasu herself barely escaped with her divine essence intact. If not for the supreme's consort intervening to protect their believers from becoming collateral damage, Zeus would have been erased from existence entirely that day."
Orm's eyes widened in disbelief. He stood silent for a long moment, processing the implications. Finally, he asked, "Then why was Zeus able to proclaim himself the strongest godking?"
Susano sighed. "Soon after that incident, Odin withdrew from the mortal realm and gradually reduced his pantheon's meddling. Zeus's arrogance couldn't accept it. He exploited the reclusive nature of those godkings and Odin's withdrawal to proclaim himself the strongest. In terms of raw power, he did outrank the rest—if you exclude those three godkings and Odin from the equation.
Zeus was a shameless, pride-filled, egotistical tyrant. I am glad he is gone, and that his death was painful and absolute—never to manifest again in this universe."
Orm's mouth opened, but no words came out.
"The three in India may not show themselves often, but those who witnessed that battle know the truth. They are existences above godking."
"So don't push your luck, Orm. We need more time and power before we even consider engaging them. Stay away from the Indian Ocean. Be patient. We're just getting started—we cannot afford to make enemies of beings like them, or that Higher Realm entity. We don't sense his presence on this world anymore, so we can be a little brazen. But don't expose yourself needlessly. Continue laying down formations across the oceans and on land so we can harvest and siphon the energies we need from other regions. Remember, this is a long game. When we rise, you rise."
Orm stood silent, processing everything. Finally, he nodded, his expression solemn and respectful. "I understand, Lord Susano. I'll proceed as planned and avoid Indian waters."
"Good." The tension in Susano's voice eased. "Focus on the Chinese coast. Their aggressive expansion into the South China Sea has already strained relations with neighboring nations. Strike there and exploit those existing tensions—the geopolitical instability combined with the destruction from your attacks will drive mortals to prayer out of desperation. Their fear feeds us." His tone hardened. "And if you encounter anyone from the Heavenly Court, use the gift we gave you."
Orm examined the arcane runes etched along the trident's length. They pulsed with divine power. "I will, Lord Susano. They won't stand in our way."
In the next moment, the water orb collapsed, splashing across the platform in a cascade of droplets that quickly receded back into the sea.
Alone now, Orm stood in silence, his mind churning through everything he'd learned. "The Battle of the Gods..." he muttered. His expression twisted into a sneer. "These gods are all alike—acting high and mighty, but cowards when it truly matters." The sneer faded, replaced by grudging acknowledgment. "Still... to think there's a rank above godking. Fine. For now, I stay my hand."
He turned toward the wall of water at the platform's edge. As he stepped through, the liquid barrier parted seamlessly. On the other side, thousands of Atlantean warriors loyal to him trained in brutal combat formations. Enhanced soldiers tested weapons that crackled with both arcane and technological power.
Orm gripped his trident tighter, his eyes cold and calculating as he surveyed his forces. "Soon," he whispered. "Very soon, mongrel brother. I will reclaim what is rightfully mine."
The image of his mother flashed through his mind—the woman he had longed to see for years, despite everything. Despite her infidelity that had shattered his father's heart, despite the betrayal, deep down he had never stopped loving her. When news came that she had returned, rescued by his half-breed brother, joy had surged through him first. He had imagined her at his side as his most trusted advisor, guiding him as the true king of Atlantis.
But that joy had curdled into something far darker. The love that should have been his alone now showered upon Arthur—the spawn of her betrayal. She had chosen the half-breed over him. The other kingdom rulers, who once respected Orm's claim, had shifted their allegiance the moment Arthur brought back their queen and wielded the legendary trident. And before her return, Orm had lost to Arthur in single combat—a humiliation that made him feel like an imposter on his own throne, a king ruling by pity rather than birthright.
They say the deeper one loves, the deeper the hatred once betrayed. Orm understood that truth now with perfect clarity.
So he had vanished. Months ago, he and his most loyal warriors disappeared overnight, leaving Atlantis in shock and chaos. This hidden lair had become his new home, his base of operations.
"I will rise as one of the supreme powers of this world," Orm vowed, his voice low and venomous. "And you, Arthur—you and our precious mother—will kneel before your true king. I will have Atlantis back."
The trident's prongs flared with dark blue light, resonating with his determination and rage.
Throughout many lower realms
Space tore open. Through the scars came devastating energies and fragments of destroyed worlds—burning debris from shattered civilizations cascading across dimensions. Above planets in countless realms, skies split without warning. Blazing objects streaked downward like falling stars, each carrying the devastation of battles fought beyond mortal comprehension.
Across worlds, countless beings looked up. Some fell to their knees in prayer. Others saw omens of doom. Primitive creatures simply stared in wonder as the celestial objects crashed down, each impact sending shockwaves rippling across continents.
On a world called Arteria in one such lower realm, a small blazing object tore through the sky above Arteria's largest continent. Citizens of the continent's mightiest empire watched the fiery streak arc toward the surrounding mountain range. The object punched through the mountain face with tremendous force, carving a deep tunnel through solid rock. It burst into a hidden underground cavern—a vast space where a pristine lake lay surrounded by walls covered in luminescent plants casting an ethereal glow.
The object struck the center of the lake with a massive splash. Water cascaded against the cavern walls, churning violently for several long moments before gradually settling. Then the crystal-clear water began to change. An ominous grey spread from the impact point like ink through water, staining the entire lake until it was completely transformed.
In another lower realm, on a world similar to Earth, an island existed in complete isolation—surrounded by a perpetual storm that had raged for untold centuries. The dark sky suddenly blazed with light as a massive burning figure descended.
Every creature on the island felt it. A presence unlike anything they had ever experienced. Ancient instincts screamed danger. Birds like beasts fled to their nests. Predators cowered in their dens. Even apex hunters retreated in primal fear. Yet a few of the island's most powerful creatures watched with narrowed eyes despite their terror, tracking the blazing figure as it streaked across the sky.
The object tore through cliff faces, reshaping the terrain in seconds before slamming into the island's largest mountain. The impact carved out a deep cave. Everything near the crash site turned molten from the intense heat. Slowly, the temperature began to drop. The blinding light of superheated rock dimmed, revealing a massive golden giant lying unconscious in the crater, wisps of green energy dissipating from its form. Despite the violence of the crash, its breathing remained surprisingly calm and steady. A faint protective layer of light shimmered around it, emanating from the armor on its chest.
Above, the sky lit up again. Another streak of light blazed down, following nearly the same trajectory. But the perpetual storms surrounding the island churned violently in response. Savage winds caught the smaller object mid-descent, altering its course. The object veered sharply, crashing toward a different part of the island.
It carved a long scar across the ground, tearing through earth and stone before finally coming to rest on a higher plateau surrounded by ancient trees. The ground around the impact site still smoldered from residual heat. Inside the damaged craft—a shuttle of advanced design—an unconscious young woman lay slumped over the control panel, golden hair covering her face.
Flashback — Moments Before the Javelin Escaped Psion Space
Kara Zor-El's hands flew across the shuttle's control interface, running through preflight checks with practiced efficiency.
"Kara Zor-El." Mother Empress's cold voice echoed inside the shuttle. "Explain what you're doing."
"Exactly what it looks like—I'm taking this baby out." Kara kept her eyes on the controls, fingers dancing across the holographic display.
Suddenly, every panel went dark. The holographic interface flickered and died.
Kara's hands froze mid-motion. "What—"
"I'll ask once more. What exactly do you hope to accomplish out there?"
Kara's fingers curled into fists on the dead console. She took a slow breath before answering. "I know he's strong—I know he can handle himself. But right now he's angry, angrier than I've ever seen him, and he's facing another Higher Realm being like himself." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I'm not deluding myself, Mother Empress. I can't fight beside him—I'm nowhere near their level. But I can stay hidden and be ready if he needs me."
"You would be collateral in a clash of such magnitude."
"I know that." A slight smile crossed Kara's face. "But I also know him well enough to understand he won't go all out—not when others might get hurt. That puts him at a disadvantage against someone who has no such reservations." She straightened, meeting the invisible gaze of the AI. "When two forces are evenly matched, sometimes one variable is enough to tip the scales. I can be that variable."
She paused, then added quietly, "Best case? He wins handily and I get an earful on the way home. Worst case?" Her voice steadied. "If the fight goes sideways, I strike from the shadows—catch the enemy off guard when they're focused on him. And if he's injured afterward, someone needs to extract him." She looked up at the ceiling of the shuttle, her expression resolute. "Please, Mother Empress. He saved me, so let me be useful to him. He's Rachel's father and Diana's future husband. I'm done watching from the sidelines while people I care about fight alone."
Silence stretched between them. Mother Empress ran countless simulations, weighing probabilities and outcomes. She had complete confidence in her young master's abilities, but past events—the ambush by Perpetua that had cast both him and her main body into the Void Realm—had taught her the difference between confidence and certainty.
And there was something else. A deeper calculation. Kara's true identity as one of the three destined empresses of her young master. 'My main body will remain with him always,' Mother Empress reasoned, 'but if the unexpected happens again—if I am somehow compromised—he shouldn't be alone. Not when she's meant to stand beside him.'
The controls blazed back to life.
"Go."
Kara's breath caught for just a moment. "Thank you."
Her hands returned to the interface with renewed purpose. The shuttle's engines thrummed to life, the deck vibrating beneath her feet. Bay doors slid open ahead, revealing the star-studded void beyond the atmospheric shield. The shuttle lifted from its moorings and shot forward into space just as the Prometheus Javelin's hyperspace drives engaged.
During the Battle
Kara gripped the shuttle's controls as space warped around her. The destruction of the Psion homeworld exceeded anything she could have imagined. She witnessed the full power of Higher Realm beings firsthand—the vast gulf between her strength and theirs laid bare.
Through the chaos, she tracked Orach's golden aura as he clashed with the enemy entity. For a time, he seemed to have the upper hand. Relief flooded through her as she maneuvered the shuttle to avoid the devastating shockwaves of their battle.
Then everything changed.
The enemy executed a desperate gambit. Orach plummeted toward the ground, disappearing in an explosion of debris and energy. Kara's heart seized.
"No!" She banked hard, trying to reach him through the maelstrom. Shockwaves buffeted the small craft—alarms screaming as shields strained under the assault—forcing her back toward the outer edges of the dying world.
Before she could close the distance, a new presence erupted from the impact site. Kara's eyes widened as a colossal ape with golden-green fur burst forth, its aura blazing like a star. She'd learned about the Oozaru transformation from Rachel and seen footage from the Kryptonian invasion—but witnessing it firsthand was something else entirely. The giant beast's roar shook reality itself.
But what truly alarmed her was the creature's appearance. Golden-green fur. White eyes. Nothing like the battle logs she'd studied. She recalled Rachel's words about the legendary Golden Oozaru—a transformation where Saiyans lost themselves to raw power and became purely destructive. Though slightly different from the description, the beast's rampage confirmed it: Orach had lost control.
What followed was a nightmare. As Citro's colossal soul form and the beast clashed, Kara pushed the shuttle beyond its limits—weaving through planet-sized debris, rolling away from energy blasts that could vaporize stars, fighting desperately to survive as two entities reshaped reality around them. Only her enhanced reflexes kept her alive.
Then the rift appeared.
A swirling void threatened to devour everything. Both combatants were pulled toward it.
"No, no, no!" Kara slammed the thruster controls, pushing the engines far beyond safety limits. Alarms blared as systems redlined. She didn't care. If Orach was pulled into that rift, she wouldn't let him face it alone.
The shuttle rocketed forward, hull groaning under the strain. She angled toward the massive beast, hoping to somehow anchor herself to him. But the forces at play were too great. The rift's pull was absolute.
The shuttle tumbled end over end. The last thing she saw before being consumed was the beast and enemy entity still locked in combat as they fell through the rift. Then darkness swallowed everything.
Inside the spatial corridor, reality twisted impossibly. The shuttle's structural integrity warnings became a constant shriek. Through the viewport, Kara could see Orach—still in beast form—and the enemy entity battling as they plummeted through the infinite tunnel.
"Come on, hold together!" Kara gritted her teeth, fighting controls that barely responded. New tears began appearing in the tunnel walls—smaller rifts branching off from the main passage, spawned by the two entities' ongoing battle.
She watched in horror as Orach's massive form suddenly veered sideways, pulled toward one of the smaller tears. In an instant, he vanished.
"ORACH!" Without thinking, she yanked the controls hard, aiming the failing shuttle toward the same tear. The craft groaned in protest, systems failing one by one, but she pushed forward with everything she had.
"I'm not losing you! Not today!"
The shuttle plunged into the secondary rift. Strange energies washed over the craft. The last thing she saw on her instruments before they went dark was a reading she couldn't comprehend—coordinates that defied logic.
Then the shuttle breached into a new reality. Atmosphere screamed against the hull as gravity suddenly reasserted itself. The ground rushed up to meet her. Kara barely had time to brace before impact threw her forward.
Everything went dark.
Present
The perpetual storm raged on as the island gradually settled into its familiar, uneasy calm. The world remained silent and unknowing, having just welcomed two strangers from beyond its skies.
Deep beneath the waters on another side of this world, within a pocket chamber built atop a high-energy geothermal vent, a large creature lay in slumber, absorbing the radiant energy pulsing from below. Suddenly, its eyes snapped open. The creature lifted its massive head, turning toward the direction where it had sensed a disturbance ripple across the planet. Its eyes narrowed as it focused, searching for that sensation again. When nothing came, it snorted dismissively and returned to its rest.
Far to the south, within an outpost of an organization on this world, another large creature lay frozen in deep ice, monitored by the facility's personnel.
"Dammit… something's wrong with this thing." One of the scientists slapped the equipment monitoring the subject in the ice.
"What's wrong?" came a voice from behind him. "What did the equipment do to you?"
"I don't know." The scientist's expression grew confused as he slumped in his seat. "For a moment, I thought I saw…"
"What?"
"…a spike in the EKG reading."