In the pitch-black void of space, the ever-expanding, golden-orange Day of Destruction burned brighter than anything around it.
And in its path stood a trade planet—an unremarkable outpost on the galactic fringe, so remote that almost no one would ever notice its demise.
If it vanished now, perhaps no one would ever know.
At most, centuries later, someone might come seeking goods, only to find that every civilization within thousands of light-years had gone silent.
In the end, it would become nothing more than a brief footnote in some forgotten galactic archive.
No one would remember their stories.
No one would know what happened above that planet.
But someone who had once seen another world fall—someone who had ties to that past—stood up now, right here.
A madman, perhaps. Or maybe... a hero.
Against the approaching orange cataclysm, a single ship floated—small, so small it was invisible amid the blaze.
And the man before it, smaller still, like an ant before the sun. He should've been consumed in an instant, reduced to ashes.
But amid the stars, starlight gathered—dozens, hundreds—rushing to his waist.
Each was faint, minuscule against the blaze of destruction.
Yet they came, converging on a single point—his sword.
Like a meteor shower.
Like countless possibilities converging.
As the light poured into him, crimson fire surged up, melting and reforging the blade into something entirely new.
Its edge now shimmered with the galaxy's blue, its guard gleamed with the pulsing red of a star's heart.
Both bound into a single sword—as if the infinite possibilities of the cosmos had been etched into steel.
Its name:
Haouken Xross Saber – The Blade of the King of Swords.
The holy sword that commands omniscient power.
The sacred blade that guides all stories to their ending.
The galactic sword born from the unity of all other holy swords.
And now, it appeared before a planet on the brink of annihilation.
Sora had used the ship's tech to enter open space, programming it to continue heading toward the Day of Destruction.
The familiar sensation of weightlessness brought back the emotions of earlier—of parting.
Their time fighting together had been brief.
But to Sora, that short span had been unforgettable.
And so—
"This planet's future isn't the end."
He spoke softly, but firmly. He would not allow another world's apocalypse to repeat here.
"Your stories won't end either."
Even if the planet was lost, the memories within it would live on.
A crimson book appeared in Sora's hand. He opened it.
From its first page, a voice resounded:
"[Brave Dragon]!"
Long ago, there was a divine beast that gained the power to destroy everything...
The courage to face this end—Sora already had it.
He had been pulled from the jaws of annihilation by his friend.
So now—
"In the end, I'll be the one to choose how the story finishes!"
Click.
The book locked into the Swordriver. Sparks flared across the stars.
A crimson dragon leapt from the book, spiraling around Sora.
It was a beast of boundless courage—unshaken even before the apocalypse.
"Rao!" (Charge!)
The system translated the roar. Sora smiled.
Even before a force that could scorch at ten million degrees, this dragon felt no fear.
"Rao!" (Well? You coming or not?)
A fearless beast to the core.
"Of course I am," Sora said, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
So, against the apocalypse that once chased him—
He drew his sword.
"[Hen...shin]."
SHING!
"[Saber, drawn]."
Starlight surged toward him in a brilliant tide.
---
On the trade planet, chaos reigned.
Bu Yi's earlier transmission had been brushed aside.
But now that the Day of Destruction was visible—now that its heat touched the skies—it was far too late to respond.
Scientists scrambled, trying to understand what had happened.
Why was this happening here?
There was no sign of the Aeon of Destruction. And yet, the Day of Destruction—its unmistakable signature—had manifested.
It was a question with no answer.
But that didn't change the truth.
This planet—along with the billions of lives on it—was about to be reduced to ash.
"Lock the broadcasts," said the planetary administrator.
"Don't cause more chaos. Let everyone face the end quietly."
It was a death sentence.
Every frantic voice fell still. Despair took hold.
Yet amidst it all, someone noticed something strange.
Their instruments picked up a different kind of energy wave.
"What is this…?"
[Unidentified energy signature detected. Translating…]
As the system deciphered the signal, a voice echoed across their feeds—
"Sacred blade draw sword!"
"Haouken Xross Saber!"
"Cross of creation!"
"With the miracle of shining stars!"
"Noble power, flame of courage!"
"Xross Saber! Xross Saber! Xross Saber!"
"Ten crossing swords!"
Silence fell over the room.
No one knew how to respond.
And then—
"Huh?"
...Who was this guy?
Who, in the face of apocalypse, ran straight toward the Day of Destruction singing a theme song?
Was he trying to charm the apocalypse with music?
Bro, what??
Confusion spread like wildfire.
But then—they saw it.
In the feed, amidst the chaos and light, a sword appeared.
Its blade shimmered blue, like the Milky Way carved into steel.
It was enormous—but still minuscule compared to the Day of Destruction.
And yet—
It moved.
Guided by someone's hand, it swung straight toward the approaching firestorm.
Shing!
For a moment, no one dared to believe it.
But then—it happened.
A crack.
A clean, slashing breach appeared on the surface of the Day of Destruction.
A gap.
The apocalypse… had been cut.