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Since the beginning of time, mankind has dreamed of breaking free from the Earth's pull—to fly freely like birds, and one day soar into the stars.
But bound by the limits of technology, even now, only two human-made probes have ever left the solar system, and the Moon remains the only celestial body ever touched by human feet.
Yet what generations of scientists have spent centuries working toward, Bokue Keikain achieved as casually as a walk to the nearest convenience store for a bottle of milk tea.
It took him less than a second to soar past the Moon's orbit—and only a few minutes more to arrive at the very heart of the solar system.
The Sun.
A titanic ball of nuclear fire, the Sun is the source of all gravity within this star system—its mass holds every planet in place.
Its surface burns at over 5,000 degrees Celsius, while its core blazes at more than 15 million. Such conditions reduce spacecraft to molten slag in an instant.
Humans? They wouldn't even leave a whisper of ash.
But such extremes were meaningless to Bokue.
He now hovered effortlessly just beyond the solar surface, the cosmic sea of flame stretching infinitely before him.
It looked less like a star and more like the edge of the world itself—an endless fire wall with no sky above, no floor below, and absolutely nothing that could survive it.
Behind him floated an entire port—one he had casually ripped from Itogami Island and brought with him, now encased in his golden magnetic field for protection.
Within the barrier were dozens of mechanical monstrosities—the Nalakuvera—paralyzed and inert. With no lifeforms to target in the vacuum of space, they resembled abandoned guard dogs, stiff and lifeless in zero gravity.
Bokue reached into his pocket and pulled out a small golden sphere—roughly the size of a tennis ball—with a disturbingly lifelike face molded into the surface.
The face was screaming.
It was Dimitrie Vatler.
Or rather, what was left of him.
Bokue held the sphere toward the raging stellar inferno and spoke through psychic transmission, his words resonating directly into Vatler's fading consciousness.
At a glance, Vatler looked far worse than just miserable—he resembled a tortured soul pulled straight out of hell.
And for good reason.
Because while the port was protected by Bokue's magnetic field, Vatler wasn't.
Bokue had left him completely exposed.
Five thousand degrees. Instant death for anyone else. Vatler should've been vaporized the moment he arrived.
But Bokue—merciful Bokue—used his cell-regeneration power to keep Vatler alive... Barely!
It was like something out of an MMO raid, where a boss's AoE should wipe out the whole party—except someone brought a healer with unlimited heals and infinite cooldowns.
To a party, it's a godsend.
To Vatler?
A nightmare.
It was the metaphysical version of a horror story—like shoving an immortal witch into an Iron Maiden and tossing her into the ocean, where she drowns over and over again, unable to die.
Vatler's body was constantly melting, only to be regenerated instantly. Over and over. His nerves burned, died, and came back. Again and again. He didn't just die once—he died thousands of times per second.
And worst of all? Bokue wouldn't let him black out.
Every time Vatler's consciousness began to collapse from the pain, Bokue just… rebooted him.
Over. And over.
Why?
Because a punishment like this shouldn't end too quickly. That would be boring.
[All right, time to test the purity of these so-called "Divine Weapons."]
Bokue casually raised his hand, and one of the dormant Nalakuvera floated up from the port's main road, caught in his magnetic grip.
Grabbing it by one of its spider-like legs, he lazily swung it around and flung it straight toward the flaming star.
Ssssst—
It never even reached the surface. The moment it passed outside the protective field, the Nalakuvera instantly liquefied, reduced to molten metal that evaporated mid-flight.
[Huh. That was underwhelming.]
But then something unexpected happened.
The remaining Nalakuvera inside the port began to glow.
Every one of them—whether crawling along a wall or clinging to a rooftop—lit up like a Christmas tree. Once the light dimmed, Bokue noticed something new:
A second layer of heat-resistant plating had formed on their mechanical bodies.
[Oh? An adaptive response? Evolution?]
That was… mildly interesting.
It seemed that by sharing the data of the destroyed unit, the entire swarm had upgraded itself. Bokue found the idea amusing—if they could evolve with every casualty, perhaps given enough numbers and time, they could create something… noteworthy.
Let's test the theory.
He grabbed another Nalakuvera, hurled it at the sun.
Ssssst— Gone.
Again. And again. Like dumplings into boiling water, he tossed them one after another into the heart of the sun.
With each iteration, the machines survived a bit longer. They flew a little farther. The enhancements kicked in, bit by bit.
But it wasn't enough.
None of them made it to the solar surface.
The final one—the most advanced of the entire swarm—vaporized just like the rest.
So much for that rule-of-cool nonsense. Guess real life doesn't have your anime "evolution mechanics."
Bokue suddenly recalled the time he'd stumbled across Sukuna's finger. The sorcerers had claimed it couldn't be destroyed, no matter what they tried.
"Indestructible," huh?
He scoffed to himself.
Just toss it into the sun, dumbasses. Case closed.
Snorting in amusement, he glanced down at the golden sphere in his hand—at the twitching, weeping face of Dimitrie Vatler.
[Well? Wanna go for a swim in the sun?]
"…"
No words. But Vatler's expression said it all. The pain, the desperation, the unspoken 'please just kill me' radiating from his soul.
Even that sounded preferable to this.
Bokue raised an eyebrow.
Then he smirked. And stuffed Vatler right back into his pocket.
"Nice try. But that's too easy."
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