The immediate aftermath of the "Shadow Incident," as the Hero Association was tentatively calling it, was a chaotic symphony of sirens, bewildered news reports, and frantic attempts to quantify the unquantifiable. City Z, already accustomed to monster attacks of apocalyptic proportions, had just weathered something far stranger, something that had twisted reality itself and left behind an unnerving sense of cosmic vulnerability.
Saitama landed softly in his apartment, the faint golden aura finally receding completely, leaving him looking as ordinary as ever in his yellow jumpsuit. The first thing he noticed was the smell of slightly overcooked crab.
Genos, who had been monitoring the situation with a mixture of awe and intense analytical frustration, immediately turned from the window. "Sensei! You have returned! Are you unharmed? The energy signatures during your engagement with the entity 'Shadow' were… beyond catastrophic. They fluctuated in patterns that defy all known physics. My internal chronometer even experienced localized temporal displacement!"
Saitama sniffed the air. "Aw, man, is the crab burnt?" He peered into the hot pot. "Nah, looks okay. Just a bit… enthusiastic." He grabbed his chopsticks. "So, that lady in black. She said her name was Cid? Then Shadow? Confusing. She talked a lot."
"Sensei, that 'lady' projected power on a scale that could potentially unravel solar systems," Genos stated, his voice tight. "She referred to herself as 'Shadow' and implied an origin from beyond our dimensional understanding. Her ability to manifest constructs from raw shadow energy, her personal combat prowess, and her clear manipulation of fundamental forces place her in a threat category that requires a new designation entirely. Perhaps 'Cosmic' or 'Existential'?"
Saitama munched thoughtfully on a piece of crab. "Existential, huh? Like that void thing. Maybe they're related. She was definitely less boring than the void, though. More… stabby." He rubbed his chest. The intense, burning itch had subsided into a low, persistent hum, a background radiation to his being. It wasn't uncomfortable anymore. It felt… latent. Like a coiled spring, waiting.
"The Hero Association is in disarray," Genos continued, pulling up holographic displays that flickered with static and error messages. "Communications are still spotty. Director Sitch is reportedly under sedation. Tatsumaki is… furious, mostly because she couldn't fully comprehend the scale of the threat and your counter-measures. Metal Knight's drones are already swarming the area of the former vortex, attempting to gather residual data, but even his advanced technology seems to be struggling."
Saitama shrugged. "Sounds like a typical Tuesday." He paused. "Wait, is it Tuesday? I think I missed garbage day."
The television, which had flickered back to life, was showing a shaky, zoomed-in phone camera video of Saitama, a distant golden figure, confronting the Shadow Avatar amidst the swirling chaos. The news anchor was babbling incoherently about "celestial beings" and "battles beyond human comprehension."
"They got me on camera?" Saitama squinted. "Hope they got my good side."
A sharp, insistent knock echoed from the apartment door. Genos tensed, his arm cannons subtly whirring. "Unidentified lifeform approaching. No, wait. Multiple lifeforms. Human. Familiar energy signatures."
Saitama, still working on his crab, called out, "It's open! Unless you're selling something. I'm a bit broke after the crab."
The door creaked open to reveal Bang, Silver Fang, looking more weary than Saitama had ever seen him, and Fubuki, the Blizzard of Hell, her usual confident demeanor replaced by a wide-eyed, slightly dishevelled shock. Behind them, a few lower-ranked heroes peeked in nervously.
"Saitama-kun," Bang said, his voice heavy. "We… we saw. From a distance. Most of it was… incomprehensible. But the power… the sheer scale of it…" He shook his head, words failing him.
Fubuki stared at Saitama, who was now meticulously cleaning his chopsticks. "You… you fought that? That… that thing in the sky? The one that made my powers feel like a child's tantrum?" Her voice was a mixture of awe and disbelief. She had felt the oppressive aura of Shadow even from miles away, a power so vast it had made her own considerable psychic abilities seem utterly insignificant. And then she'd seen the golden light of Saitama, pushing back, fighting it.
"Oh, her? Yeah, she was a bit dramatic," Saitama said casually. "Called herself Shadow. Or Cid. Wanted to understand my… 'interference,' I think she said." He gestured with his chopsticks. "Want some crab? There's still a bit left."
Fubuki looked from the half-eaten crab to Saitama's impassive face, then back to the lingering scent of ozone and dimensional weirdness that still clung to the air. Her meticulously crafted composure finally cracked. "How… How are you just… eating crab after that?!"
Saitama blinked. "Well, I was hungry. And it was about to burn."
Bang chuckled, a dry, tired sound. "Only you, Saitama-kun. Only you." He looked around the small, messy apartment. "The rift. The one the first creature left. It's still there. Smaller, fainter. But Bofoi's machines are detecting… fluctuations. As if your battle, your… assertion against that Shadow entity, has further destabilized it. It's like… a wound in the world that keeps trying to open."
Saitama frowned slightly. The hum within him pulsed in response to the mention of the rift. "So, more stuff might crawl out?"
"That is the concern," Bang said gravely. "The Hero Association is scrambling to find a way to seal it, but… after what we've witnessed, our conventional methods, even our S-Class powerhouses, seem woefully inadequate against threats of this nature." He looked directly at Saitama. "They will be looking to you. Even more than before."
Saitama sighed. "More work, huh? Does it pay well?"
Before anyone could answer, a new voice, synthesized and devoid of emotion, cut in. "Observation: Subject Saitama's biological and energetic readings post-engagement show anomalous resonance patterns. His baseline power output, while previously unquantifiable, appears to have established a new, significantly higher, yet stable, quantum threshold. The 'golden aura' witnessed was not simple energy projection, but a localized reality assertion field."
Metal Knight's drone, the same one from earlier, had slipped in unnoticed and was hovering near the ceiling, its lenses focused intently on Saitama.
"The entity 'Shadow' is also of extreme interest," Bofoi's voice continued through the drone. "Her energy manipulation, dimensional travel capabilities, and apparent control over exotic 'shadow matter' suggest an origin from a universe with vastly different physical laws. The data gathered, though fragmented, is invaluable. Her parting words, 'We shall meet again,' are… concerning."
Saitama looked at the drone. "Are you gonna try and dissect me again? 'Cause that's not cool."
"Dissection is a crude method for data acquisition of this magnitude, Subject Saitama," the drone replied. "Non-invasive long-range scanning and analysis of your combat engagements are proving… sufficient. For now. Your recent evolution is particularly noteworthy. The Void Maw acted as a catalyst, and the entity Shadow seems to have accelerated the process. You are, in essence, a walking, talking nexus of reality-altering potential."
Fubuki was still trying to process everything. "Evolution? Catalyst? What are you talking about? He's always been… like this, hasn't he? Just… ridiculously strong?"
Genos stepped forward. "Previously, Sensei's strength, while immense, operated primarily within the established framework of physical laws, albeit at their most extreme theoretical limits. However, since the encounter with the Void Maw, and now Shadow, his abilities appear to be transcending those limits. He is interacting with, and influencing, reality on a conceptual level. The golden aura, the ability to 'unmake' or 'assert' existence… these are new manifestations. Or perhaps, previously latent abilities now awakened."
Saitama scratched his head. The hum felt… warm. Comfortable, even. Like a well-fed cat purring in his chest. "So, I got an upgrade? Is there a manual for this? Or do I just keep punching things until it makes sense?"
Bang looked thoughtful. "This 'Shadow' entity… she mentioned 'other currents,' 'disturbances.' It implies there are more like her. Perhaps even more powerful. And this rift… it may be a beacon, drawing them in."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of that implication settling in. The threats were no longer just giant monsters or alien invaders. They were cosmic horrors, beings from beyond the veil of their own reality.
Then, Fubuki spoke, a new determination in her eyes. "If that's the case… we can't just rely on Saitama-sensei." She looked at Bang, then at Genos. "The Hero Association needs to adapt. We need to adapt. We need to understand what we're facing. We need new strategies, new ways to fight."
Saitama, surprisingly, nodded. "Yeah. It's annoying when I'm trying to watch TV and the world's ending. Again." He then looked at his empty crab shell with a hint of sadness. "And I'm all out of crab."
Suddenly, the faint shimmering fracture in space, miles away in the cordoned-off plaza, pulsed. It was a subtle thing, unnoticed by the city at large, but picked up by Metal Knight's sensitive drone and, more acutely, by Genos.
"Warning," the drone announced. "The spatial rift is exhibiting increased tachyonic emissions. A focused energy signature is building. Not aggressive. More like… a probe. Or a… call."
Saitama felt it too. The hum within him intensified slightly, not with alarm, but with a strange sense of… recognition. As if something was reaching out, something familiar yet utterly alien.
He stood up, looking out the window in the direction of the rift. The sky was clear now, the stars brilliant in the unnaturally clean air. But he could feel it, a whisper on the edge of reality, a subtle pressure against the boundaries of his world.
"Looks like the party's not over yet," Saitama muttered. The ordinary, boring life he craved seemed to be slipping further and further away. But beneath the surface of his usual apathy, a new kind of anticipation was stirring, fueled by the godlike power thrumming within him. The universe, it seemed, had finally decided to send opponents that might, just might, make things interesting.
And somewhere, in a place of swirling shadows and impossible geometries, the silver eyes of Cid Kagenou, the Eminence in Shadow, watched the faint, distant light of Saitama's world, a slow, dangerous smile playing on his lips. The first move had been made. The board was set. And the whispers of the unseen were growing louder.