My chest hammered like a bass drum as I stared down into the glowing orange mouth opening beneath me. Once again, faith was demanded—or at least another leap, another risk weighed against countless others. That door wasn't just a door—it was an entrance into the Absolute Universe. And on the other side lay the chance of rescue, not ruin. The weight of the world pressed against me, though I knew there was only one way to lighten it: I needed someone who could defend Earth in my place—someone unshakable, as relentless as the steel and concrete labyrinth I called home.
I stepped inside, and the fabric of reality stretched across my skin, snapping and crackling like cosmic bubble wrap. The air pressed heavy against me, the colors burning sharper, as if someone had cranked up the contrast on existence itself. The ground held steady beneath my orange-soled boots, the gravity close and hungry. I inhaled, and the metallic tang of something alien clung to my lungs. Everything here was raw—tougher, distilled, amplified. Like stepping into a comic book drawn by a half-mad visionary, every detail was louder, riskier.
And then she appeared. Pure, undeniable Wonder Woman. A tower of strength clad in black and red, shining beneath the harsh light of an untamed world. Her armor was no craft of mortals—its edges too sharp, its surface too invulnerable. It looked like something forged at the hands of gods. The Godrend Blade at her side made its own promise, silent but certain: crossing her was not an option. Her beauty didn't just attract attention—it cracked foundations. When her red eyes narrowed at me and her shoulders locked, she didn't merely stand—she claimed every inch of space around her. A queen surveying her domain.
"Who are you?" Her voice hit like a storm, heavy with authority, each word crashing like surf. It was an interrogation big enough to rattle stars. But I met it with the steadiness that comes only from knowing you're the best at what you do.
"Bastion Prime," I said. "Protector of a second Earth. I'm here to broker a deal with the toughest warrior in the multiverse." My Chicago growl was thick, syrupy, each word hanging in the air like a warning.
Her gaze locked on mine, the weight of a thousand battles burning behind her eyes. "What deal?" she asked, suspicion woven into every syllable.
The portal behind me flickered and vanished, leaving us in a deserted alley. Around us, the world was a strange fusion of shining steel and decaying ruin, a city scarred by its history. Rain-slick stone carried its own sharp scent, cut through by the tang of ozone. "My Earth's in danger, Absolute Wonder Woman. The Viltrumites are coming. I need someone to watch its back while I go head-to-head with them. You've got the strength for that, don't you?"
She didn't look away. Instead, she shifted just slightly, her stance tilting forward over her blade—a motion so small it was almost invisible, but it told me she was listening. "The Viltrumites?" she echoed, her voice rolling like thunder through the alley. "And why should your world's fight matter to me?"
I stepped closer, my growl low. "Because if you don't, then millions will die while I'm out there fighting to keep them from seizing the entire galaxy. You're a hero, aren't you? This shouldn't mean nothing to you."
Her eyes narrowed, red irises blazing like molten rock beneath shadow. She didn't blink when she answered my claim, though something flickered inside them—a flash of something feral, something sharp. "Heroes aren't for hire, Bastion Prime," she snapped, her words striking like a challenge.
And then she shocked me. She drew back her blade and stepped in, her hand lifting to trace the edge of my Roman armor. Her touch sent a tremor racing through me—lightning that didn't strike but still set me alight within. "But maybe I can be convinced," she whispered, and the alley shrank until only we existed.
The tension between us became alive, breathing—a snake wound tight, ready to lash. Her gaze cut into mine, and I understood she wasn't just weighing the fate of my world anymore. Something else burned in her stare—something far from duty or planets shifting balance. It was raw, consuming hunger, and it slammed into me like a hammer.
Her hand slid from my cuirass to its edge, her touch soft yet electric. For that moment, the looming war vanished, the billions I'd lose forgotten. I was only a man, while she was gods. And she seemed to want me.
"Fine, I'll come," she said, her voice a velvet threat strong enough to melt steel. "But I expect compensation."
Her hand never lifted from my chest as she pressed closer, her breath searing along my neck. I could feel the heat of her, power caged within her body, and it drew me in. With a thought I opened another portal—to Chicago, my current home. Orange light slashed across her face, painting her as a queen born from legend. Together we passed through, the alley swallowed by light.
Crossing over, the taut air between us snapped like a stretched cord. The stench of car smoke and the far-off cry of sirens filled the night—the familiar song of a city that never sleeps. Skyscrapers towered around us like sentinels of glass, so different from the alien ruin I'd just left behind.
Wonder Woman's eyes widened, taking in the streets awash in neon. Her black hair whipped in the city wind, as though myth itself had burst into flesh before me. The noise of Chicago pressed from all sides, but all I could hear was the pounding of my chest, the hammering in my head.
Her hand slid down the length of my waist, her fingers clenching the fabric of my clothes. She pressed against me, her breath spilling heat along my ear. "Show me this city, Bastion Prime," she murmured. "Convince me it's a place worth fighting for."
I swallowed hard. The wail of sirens somewhere far away filled my skull. Her arm was locked around my waist, and my body screamed at me to erase the space between us, claim her as my own. But the universe had other ideas.
My earpiece cracked alive. "Zandale, we've got a situation." Cecil's voice was sharp, pulled tight as wire about to snap.
I shoved the storm back down my throat and forced myself steady. "Talk."
Cecil's reply hit like a slap of ice. "A Viltrumite named Anissa landed on Earth. She tried to draw Invincible into her mission."
The ground seemed to give way under me. Anissa.
"Tried to recruit him?" I asked, my tone kept flat. "And what was his answer?"
"He refused," Cecil said, and for a heartbeat relief loosened me. "But she threatened him, Zandale. Said another is coming. Someone ready to set him straight."
Cecil's voice cut like a blade in my ear. The kind of words that make blood freeze. "Who?" I growled, though deep down I already knew. Conquest. That was the name.
"Unknown," he replied, and the silence hit like a fist. "But the empire's behind her all the way. And she's not here wasting time with tea."
The weight of creation pressed down on me, heavy as a star imploding in on itself. The war started. Suddenly. Brutally. Just like that. And with Allen's help, on this night, this moment, Nolan would shatter his Viltrumite prison—and from here the Viltrumite War began, as far as I could see. My thoughts flicked to Absolute Wonder Woman, her eyes waiting on me.
"Ahhh, found someone," I rasped into the earpiece, my voice coarse as stone. "Someone… different."
Cecil's voice snapped like glass. "Different—how."
I turned toward her—Wonder Woman in full, eyes burning into mine like twin suns. "Someone… Absolute."
Cecil's voice came as a doubtful murmur. "Absolute how?"
"Stronger than everyone in this universe combined, even me. And she's got the willpower to match," I said over the comms, not exaggerating in the least how powerful she truly was.
For a heartbeat the line went silent, then, "That's genuinely terrifying, Zandale."
Cecil didn't understand a thing. That woman standing before me could tear the planet in two with a breath. But fear wasn't going to set the distance I kept. I needed her near, inside my reach.
"Bring her to the Pentagon," Cecil whispered into my ear. "We'll start working out strategy."
I nodded, lips curling upward. "Sure thing," I answered, my words carrying more than simple geography. Wonder Woman's eyes never blinked. She understood. The tension between us was electric, like a storm about to split the sky.
In an instant, gravity loosened, and we shot upward, my cape trailing behind like a war flag. The roar of takeoff slapped against our faces, but she didn't flinch. Below us the city spread like a grid of light and shadow, a map of human ambition. I gestured toward the Sears Tower, the lake shining like a silver ribbon of moonlit glass, where the world had been scarred—where heroes fell, where villains met their ends. She absorbed it like a soldier, nodding, her eyes reading not just the ground but the battles it remembered.
Then the Grand Canyon opened ahead—a silent witness to time's ferocity and grace. I watched her eyes widen, wonder laid bare, and something inside me shifted that had nothing to do with war or destiny. We floated there, suspended between earth and sky, and in that moment she leaned in—an inch, palm on my chest, close enough that I felt her heat.
"Ever had anyone, Bastion?" she asked, her hair whipping midnight-dark in the wind. "Anyone who could grasp what you are? Anyone who'd dare to hold you down?"
I hesitated. The coastal city far below lay like a toy in a titan's hand. I'd been with five. Each had their aims and their joys. But none had ever truly understood me. Not once. They'd known the face. They'd known Bastion Prime. They'd even known Zandale. But not the person inside the mask. An isekai cheat who was absurdly overpowered.
"Ahh, well, I've had my share," I finally said, my voice shredded by the gale.
She held my gaze, searching for something beyond language. She was chasing my truth, the one I refused to hand over. I didn't owe her that, even as my adaptive edge cut through, splitting her composure open like a cracked shell.
Wonder Woman hummed softly, a husky low song. She drifted closer, her breath warm on my cheek, and whispered, "Take me somewhere more… private, Bastion Prime."
My apartment was the last human place I wanted to bring a war goddess, but you take what you can. We plunged out of the dark, the wind a muted scream around us, and landed on the roof of my old building. My apartment door had a brighter fate than it looked—a few more kicks and it would swing open with all the grace of a sledgehammer's blow. It was home. Or at least it passed for it.
You'd think once I'd made what I wanted, I'd have moved out. Nope. Never had to. Either I was at the Pentagon, at the old Guardians of the Globe base, or at Carla's place.