[It's been a minute since I last uploaded, but I've been neck-deep in Born From Nothingness—and I finally wrapped Chapter 100! 🎉This one-shot was a little break from all that chaos, a chance to let Nero and Saitama clash without holding anything back. Expect blood, laughs, and a very smug rooster. Sometimes, even the strongest humans need a real challenge.
Thanks for sticking around—I promise the main story isn't slowing down, but for now… enjoy this little detour into absolute chaos.
—Nero Angelo]
King's apartment was filled with the clicking of controllers and the hum of the TV.
"KO!" flashed across the screen.
Saitama slumped back into the couch. "Tch. Lost again…"
King adjusted his glasses, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. "So… how does it feel?"
Saitama blinked. "Huh?"
"To be so strong that no one can ever defeat you," King said, his voice strangely steady despite his racing heart.
Saitama let out a long sigh. He set the controller down gently this time, his blank eyes staring at nothing. "Honestly? It's boring. No matter the fight… they all end the same. I can't enjoy any of it."
A voice came from behind them. Smooth. Low. Unfamiliar.
"I know how you feel."
King froze. His entire body stiffened as the hairs on his neck stood up. No one else should be here. His apartment was locked—secure. But the voice was real. Close.
Slowly, both he and Saitama turned their heads.
A man sat on the floor behind them, legs crossed, calm as if he had been there the entire time. His white hair caught the glow of the TV, a smug-looking chicken perched on his head like a crown. His silver eyes—cold, lifeless, haunted—met Saitama's equally bored ones.
The man tilted his head slightly, studying him. Then he spoke, voice carrying weight.
"Do you want to feel what it's like to fight someone stronger than you? To remember what it feels like to bleed… to have your bones broken?"
King's controller slipped from his sweaty hands. His heart pounded like a war drum.
Saitama scratched his cheek lazily. "Look, buddy. I've fought plenty of people who claimed that. Every one of them lost." His tone stayed flat, uninterested. "So if you're one of them, then, mo—"
He never finished.
The walls vanished. The carpet, the couch, the TV—all gone.
Suddenly, they were outside. Sitting in the middle of the road under a dead streetlight. The chill of the night air replaced the warmth of King's living room.
King gasped, eyes darting everywhere, pulse hammering in his ears. "W-What the hell…?! How did—?!"
His fear only grew louder in his chest. Because deep down, he knew—this wasn't just another monster. This was something else.
Saitama blinked once, glancing around the empty street. Then, for the first time in a long while, his bored gaze sharpened ever so slightly.
The man slowly rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes. The rooster perched on his head hopped down, landing neatly on his left shoulder. He took one step toward Sitama.
In the blink of an eye, Saitama and King were standing upright as well. They hadn't chosen to stand, nor had they been forced. One moment they were sitting, the next—they were simply on their feet.
The man extended his right arm, calm but deliberate.
"My name is Nero Angelo. I'm here to see, with my own eyes, how the strongest human fights."
Saitama glanced at the hand. Then shrugged and took it. Their grip was firm.
Nero tilted his head toward the rooster on his shoulder. "And this is Clucknor. My partner in crimes."
The bird puffed up proudly, wings flaring as he let out a sharp, triumphant crow.
Saitama blinked. "… He looks proud."
Nero smiled faintly. "Yeah. He is."
Then his silver eyes narrowed slightly. "So? Do you want to fight me for real?"
Saitama scratched his head, eyes drifting away for a moment. "You don't look like the others I've fought before. I guess I'll give it a shot." His tone stayed flat. "Don't blame me if you die."
King's throat locked. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Nero and Clucknor exchanged a glance. Then, both man and bird laughed.
"You don't have to worry about me dying," Nero said, almost casually. "I've tried that myself—too many times. Doesn't work."
Saitama's face tilted into mild confusion. "…O-kay."
Nero clapped his hands once, sharp and clear. "Alright then. Let's have some fun."
He looked at Clucknor and gave a small nod.
The rooster spread his wings, flying upward. His feathers shimmered, violet light pouring from his body like molten glass.
In an instant, the world warped.
Saitama and Nero were no longer in the street. They stood inside a vast cube—its green, glass-like walls glowing faintly in the darkness. Outside, only endless void stretched into nothingness.
King, meanwhile, found himself sitting on a rubber toilet… floating helplessly outside the cube.
He couldn't even scream.
Clucknor circled above, perched briefly on King's head before settling into the void beyond, cawing proudly as the cube solidified.
Saitama walked to one of the walls and tapped it with his knuckles. Thunk-thunk. It echoed like thick glass.
He glanced back at Nero. "Will this green glass hold… if I punch it?"
Nero shrugged. "You can test it if you want."
Saitama threw a punch—not full power, but strong enough to topple mountains. The wall didn't even ripple. Not a scratch.
Nero crossed his arms. "It won't break. Not even if you go all out. I hate to admit it, but Clucknor makes better barriers than me."
Clucknor cawed again, puffing his chest as if to say damn right.
Nero's form flickered, his black suit dissolving into fighting attire—simple, functional, yet sharp, like a warrior who didn't need ornament to intimidate.
He rolled his shoulders and met Saitama's eyes.
"In here, you won't have to hold back."
The void trembled.
Nero said, "You can be the first to kick things off."
Saitama shrugged. "Nah, you're the guest. You go first."
Nero smirked—and vanished from where he stood. In an instant, he appeared behind Saitama. "Okay," he said.
Without warning, Nero threw a punch from behind. Saitama barely dodged, skidding to a stop. "You're fast," he said, eyes narrowing.
Nero had already vanished again, reappearing in front of him. He delivered a swift kick, but Saitama leapt aside, landing lightly on the cube's floor.
"You should attack, rather than just dodging," Nero remarked.
Saitama smirked. "I think I will."
Before Nero could react, Saitama closed the distance in an instant and jabbed toward his chin. Nero simply redirected it with a push from his left palm—the strike missed entirely, though the force it carried sent shockwaves rippling outward.
Saitama's fist shot forward again, faster this time. Nero tilted his head, letting the blow skim past his cheek. The shockwave rattled the cube, but the glassy walls didn't even flicker.
"Not bad," Nero said, his voice calm, eyes unreadable. "But I've felt worse winds."
Saitama frowned. No one ever brushed off his punches like that—not even pretended to.
In a blur, Nero stepped inside Saitama's guard, palm flashing upward. The strike didn't land, but the air pressure alone lifted Saitama half a foot off the ground before he twisted and skidded back.
King sat frozen on his rubber toilet, pupils trembling. This is insane…! I can feel their blows even from here!
Saitama dusted his cape. "Heh. Guess I should try a little harder."
Nero smirked, raising one hand. "Yes. Show me."
The ground cracked as Saitama rushed him, fists like cannon fire. Nero's body swayed, redirecting each strike with minimal movement, the cube ringing with thunder each time their attacks collided. When Saitama finally landed a direct blow on Nero's ribs, instead of flying back, Nero absorbed the force and pivoted, hurling Saitama across the cube with a single arm throw.
Saitama smashed into the wall. He stood, unharmed but wide-eyed. "You just… tossed me?"
"Like I said," Nero's lips curled into a grin, "I wanted to see what it feels like when the 'strongest' actually bleeds."
Clucknor flapped his wings on King's head, crowing like a referee calling round two.
The fight had only just begun.