Chapter 14: Glitch in the Stars
In the lower world—a realm untouched by time, where stories weave and unweave in silence—the stage was shifting. Though no true time ticked in that omniversal theater, the timelines bound by chronos whispered that five hundred years had passed since the Tournament began.
The silence of cosmic space shattered with a burst of laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
It echoed like thunder through a vacuum.
Misugaraki's laughter bloomed wide, stretching through the void like an uncontained flame. Standing amidst debris of broken moons and floating asteroid belts, his arms wide open, he drank in the chaos with gluttonous glee.
"Look at you two! Lost little lambs in the cosmos! Did you think you could challenge masters of cultivation in this... playground?"
His voice, soaked in arrogance and delight, crackled the nearby meteorites.
A figure across from him shifted.
The girl in the purple sweater stood still, her face obscured by a waterfall of long black hair. She didn't glance at him. Her voice drifted like a whisper into the void:
"Misugaraki... step aside. They're mine."
He paused. Laughter cut short. He turned his head slowly.
"Eh?"
Misugaraki eyed her. The smirk faded, replaced by something more worn—a sigh.
"Just when I was about to end it all... you gotta claim dibs. Typical."
She said nothing. Her face remained low.
"Fine," Misugaraki said after a pause, with a dismissive wave. "How about this? You take one. I take one."
Aisha, still bloodied but standing, clenched her fists.
"Are they... looking at us like goods?" she muttered.
Before anyone could answer, Alice dashed forward, aura flaring like twin blades. She and the silent cultivator girl vanished in a streak of light, their battle rocketing through debris fields of shattered planets.
colliding again and again in brutal exchanges that echoed through the ruined galaxies.
Misugaraki chuckled, eyes narrowing at Aisha.
"Guess the ones we're taking down chose themselves."
He raised his fists.
"You know, we're limited to just three abilities in this world. I wonder what you can do with that limitation?"
Aisha met his gaze, eyes shimmering with a blue glow.
"You talk like it doesn't apply to you."
"A little Russian doll? Representing against me? I almost feel sorry for you. Almost. This'll be over before you can say 'babushka'."
Aisha didn't flinch. Her voice shook, but her defiance held.
"I think you underestimate me, Mister Misugaraki. My name is Aisha... and I know what 'babushka' means. It means grandmother."
Misugaraki scoffed.
"Knowledge won't save you here, girl. Only power. And mine... is considerable."
His aura ignited—crimson flame curling from his shoulders like a solar flare. He vanished.
With blinding speed, he launched himself forward, his fist cloaked in a swirling inferno. Aisha barely managed to raise her right hand, palm open—
BOOM!
A cataclysmic explosion erupted. Space bent violently around them. A planet behind Aisha was atomized. The shockwave traveled for light-years. The stars themselves flickered.
Aisha barely dodged the punch, the edge of his knuckles grazing her cheek. She activated her scarlet eyes—and for a moment, all time froze.
Everything halted. The universe slowed to a crawl.
SHATTER.
Reality cracked like a mirror around Misugaraki. The sub-reality she created snapped apart. Misugaraki stood amidst the glasslike fragments, smiling as the broken laws of time bled away from his skin.
Then the fight began.
No gravity. No up or down. Yet they danced like titans upon space and nothingness as if there is a invisible floor to step on.
He went for another hit, this time kick to the face-
When the dust settled, Misugaraki stood with his foot outstretched, stunned. Before him, Aisha remained, protected by an invisible vortex of rotational force—her calculated detonation field.
Her clothes were scorched. Sweat beaded on her brow. She panted but didn't back down.
Broken numbers and binary fragments floated in space around them—narrative code ruptured by the clash as blows were exchanged.
Misugaraki's martial style was a mix of brutal strength and elegant, ancient patterns. Aisha weaved through them, relying on predictive analysis, probability threading, and raw instinct.
"You're doing well," he noted mid-swing.
He waved his right hand, slicing it through space. A glowing line of flame curved in the air.
Aisha jumped back, analyzing.
"Prepare to be incinerated."
He grabbed the flame line by its center and pulled—stretching it into a bow. The bow ignited, a notched arrow of pure fire forming.
Release.
The arrow howled, racing toward her like a judgment.
Aisha activated her scarlet eyes.
The fire ceased to exist.
But the shockwave remained.
She raised her arms to shield herself, her body flung back through a belt of shattered moons.
Flame-webs spawned around her from every side, tightening like nets.
But she moved.
A blur.
Aisha streaked through stars, bouncing off planetary rings and diving into asteroid clouds. She ran atop a planet's curve—one without atmosphere—and glanced behind her.
She ran, danced—each movement a blur of light. She moved across worlds, light-years in milliseconds. No time. No gravity. No rules.
On one planet, she skidded across its coreless surface. She turned just in time to see Misugaraki reappear beside her.
Misugaraki was already there.
Too close.
She turned, arm raised.
"Calculated Detonation... Initiating"
Misugaraki's fist struck the space before her palm—
He had missed to the side.
His fist neared. Just as contact brushed the air, a colossal explosion ignited.
The story itself trembled.
Planets fractured.
The story shook. Laws fractured. Letters and lines of code bent out of place.
The multiverse/infinitely expanding timelines in one of the universe was in the shocked and was in nearly collapsed with the force
The shockwave spread across systems and timelines.
Silence returned.
Elsewhere...
Under the shade of a tree within the Tournament World, Sung Ki lay resting. He exhaled quietly, arms behind his head, legs crossed. The sunlight warmed his face.
His eyes fluttered open slightly as the planet shocks from disturbance.
He felt it.
The story was no longer obeying him.
But there was no shock.
He smiled faintly, closing his eyes again.
"Good," he whispered to the sky.
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To be continued
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