"You've gotta be kidding me."
Eden froze, mid-thought. He'd just gotten the Teen Team off his back, barely had a chance to breathe, and now the damn system was flaring up again.
"What the hell is Gladiator Arena Mode?"
Like one storm after another. A week of peace and suddenly the floodgates open again.
His brow furrowed.
[Master, you are not the only heir chosen by OBA.]
[Across the omniverse, there are countless others.]
[Your current ranking among them: 189,236,713.]
"So what?" Eden asked flatly. "If there are billions of OBA's heirs, then that means you're not unique either, huh?"
[Incorrect. This system is one of a kind.]
[OBA delights in watching his heirs clash, to see who proves worthy to inherit his all.]
[Normally, only the strongest rise to the top. But with me? You get a shortcut. That's why the Arena is opening ahead of schedule.]
Eden's eyes narrowed. He could feel a headache brewing. "You're telling me…"
[Exactly. The system drags every possible heir into the Arena. You hunt them down. You kill them. You erase competition before it becomes a problem.]
"Great. So what if I just don't play along? Is there a way out of this?"
[The Arena is mandatory. One battle, every month.]
[Typically, higher-ranked heirs invade lower-ranked universes to wipe them out.]
[But with me shielding you, the rules bend in your favor.]
[Keep in mind, rankings don't measure strength—only how much each heir has pleased OBA.]
"So the more depraved you are, the higher you score." Eden's lip curled.
[Correct.]
"Fine. If I can't duck it, at least tell me when it starts. Give me time to prep."
[5.]
"…Five? Five what? Days? Hours? Don't tell me—"
[…4…3…2…1.]
"Oh, for fu—"
Light exploded in his vision. Eden vanished from his bed in an instant, his head crammed full of new data.
[Because this is your first Arena battle, a warm-up opponent has been selected.]
[Target: Homelander, leader of The Seven.]
[Current location: The Seven's office in Vought Tower.]
Vought Tower.
The Seven were in the middle of celebrating Starlight's induction. Champagne popped, laughter filled the room—
And then a thunderous whump. A kid in pajamas and slippers blinked into existence in the middle of the meeting.
Eden Kent.
"The hell? Who are you?" The Deep's eyes went wide. "This is The Seven's meeting room. No outsiders allowed! Even fans can't just—"
He clearly thought Eden was some overeager groupie.
"Son of a bitch, how'd he get in here?" A-Train yanked his pants back up, glaring murder at the intruder. "You see anything, kid?"
Homelander's gaze cut sharp as a blade. His eyes began to glow, heat vision simmering. "If he's seen too much, he doesn't leave this room alive."
"So this is the comic book version of The Seven, huh?" Eden muttered, rolling his neck until it cracked.
Overhead, a thirty-second countdown burned into his vision.
"Thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight…" he ticked off under his breath.
Figures. Of course there's a pre-match timer. Just like a damn game.
Homelander shot into the air, hovering nose-to-nose with him. "You. Who sent you?"
"…Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…" Eden ignored him, still counting down.
"Are you deaf?" Homelander's voice rose, affront clear on his face. No one ever ignored him.
"Cool it, Homelander." The Deep stepped forward nervously. "Maybe you scared the kid stiff. Look at his pajamas—he's probably just a fan."
The whale-print pattern on Eden's shirt sealed the assumption.
"Shut your fish-fucking mouth." Homelander snarled, snapping his head around. "No one in this team questions me. Ever."
The Deep went quiet instantly.
"…Five, four, three, two, one."
Eden finished the count, calm as stone.
"You mute, kid?" Homelander sneered. "Fine. You won't be needing a head, then."
Twin lances of crimson flared from his eyes—
Only to be swallowed by something hotter. Denser. Deadlier.
Eden's own heat vision ripped through the beams like paper, spearing straight into Homelander's skull. His brain cooked in an instant.
"Thud."
The almighty Homelander collapsed to the carpet, headless body twitching as the stench of charred meat filled the air.
"I was waiting on the countdown," Eden said coldly, smoke curling from his eyes. "What were you waiting for? Death?"
He looked down at the corpse. "And by the way—pretending to be Superman in front of a real Kryptonian? Pathetic."
"My God!"
"No way—Homelander's dead?!"
"He… he killed him in a second! He's one of them!"
The Seven erupted into chaos, staring in disbelief at the boy who'd just erased their untouchable leader.
[Target eliminated.]
[Returning to main world in five seconds.]
[5…4…]
Eden's smirk was cold. "Five seconds is more than enough. Let's take out some trash while we're here."
His gaze swept the room—the rest of The Seven, the so-called "premier heroes" of this world. In Eden's eyes? Just a knockoff Justice League. Weaker. Uglier. Dirtier.
Nothing more than pests.
And he'd always been good at pest control.
...
"Run!"
The second Eden's eyes shifted from Homelander's corpse to A-Train, the speedster's instincts screamed. Against the guy who had just erased Homelander in a blink, there was no fight—only flight.
Pick on the weak, sure. But this? I'm not suicidal.
He bolted.
Too late.
The air itself seemed to freeze, like someone had hit pause on a video. By the time reality caught up, Eden was already standing in front of him.
"I can't stop—!" A-Train's voice cracked with panic.
Crunch.
His skull met Eden's fist head-on, body bursting apart like an overripe watermelon.
"Number two." Eden said flatly, turning his gaze on Black Noir.
"Fuck," Noir cursed, finally breaking the silent act. His eyes burned red-hot as he launched forward—
But Eden's heat vision was faster. A single blazing line cut him in half. Organs spilled to the floor before the body even hit it.
"Number three."
Eden didn't spare him a glance. He let his X-Ray Vision sweep the room instead.
"…Gotcha. Number four."
He blurred forward, appearing before Translucent—the idiot thinking that standing perfectly still and quiet made him invisible to a Kryptonian. One punch. Skull shattered like glass.
"Ahhh…"
That left only The Deep, Starlight, and Queen Maeve.
The Deep was already a wreck, muttering to himself, "Shit… if I make it out of this, I swear I'll never set foot on land again. I'll shack up with an octopus for the rest of my life."
"…Three… two… one."
The countdown ended.
A hum ripped through the air. Eden vanished.
"Holy shit."
The three survivors collapsed back into their seats, drenched in sweat, relief flooding their faces.
"What the hell just happened?!"
The boardroom doors slammed open. Vought executives stormed in, staring at the carnage, their voices cracking. "No, no, no—Homelander? Black Noir? Both gone? Do you know how many billions we poured into those two?"
"This is insane!"
Meanwhile—
Eden reappeared in his room.
"Handled." He yawned. "Shower time. Gotta wash this blood off."
A hot rinse later, towel over his shoulders, Eden muttered to himself, At least the damn system will shut up for a month. That's worth celebrating.
"Hey, system. Question."
He leaned back on his bed. "As long as I've got you, that means nobody else can invade my world, right? I'm only the attacker, never the target?"
[Correct, Master.]
"Perfect." Eden smirked. Maybe the trash program had some perks after all.
[But… if another OBA heir already exists in this same universe, I cannot prevent them from finding you.]
"…What?" Eden froze.
[According to system parameters, another heir exists here. He will arrive on Earth in one month. Odds are, he'll be your next Arena opponent. Prepare yourself.]
"Who?" Eden's voice dropped, sharp.
By now his Kryptonian-Viltrumite bloodline put him above almost everyone alive. This wasn't Marvel, crawling with constant doomsdays. It wasn't DC, rebooting every time the sky cracked. Very few things could still scare him.
[Designation: Battle Beast.]
"…You've got to be shitting me." Eden actually laughed.
Battle Beast. The galaxy's undisputed king of one-on-ones. The monster who could fight the Viltrumite Regent Thragg to a standstill. A single-combat god.
And now his "next opponent."
"This is the dumbest matchmaking system I've ever seen. First round, Homelander. Second round, Battle Beast? That's like—hell, it's like playing an RPG where you leave the starter village, kill one slime, and the game immediately throws the Demon King at you!"
He dragged his hands down his face. Unbelievable.
[Don't panic, Master.]
[The Arena has a second feature: simulation training.]
Eden's eyes narrowed. "Simulation what now?"
[You can select any opponent from the system database and train against their simulated form, in any environment you choose.]
"…Not bad." He rubbed his chin. "So who's in the database?"
[Compiling. Current entries: Guardians of the Globe, Teen Team, Omni-Man, Spawn, and more.]
"Spawn?" Eden blinked, then shook his head. "Nah, he's magic-based. Teen Team and Guardians are way too weak. So the only real option…"
His lips twisted. "…is training against my own mother. Omni-Man."
He groaned. Of course. This shitty system really wants a mother-son deathmatch, huh?
[Correction: The Omni-Man profile is Nolan Grayson, not your mother Nolanne Kent. Please rest assured.]
"…Nolan Grayson?" Eden's eyes lit up. "Now that's interesting."
"Alright then. Let's go, system. Give me Nolan Grayson. The original Omni-Man."
[Specify location.]
"Random."
[Confirmed.]
[Initializing simulation.]
[Opponent: Nolan Grayson.]
[Arena: New York subway station.]
Eden's eyelids fluttered shut as the system pulled him in. The world blurred—and when it cleared, he was hovering over Manhattan.
"Intruder?" A booming voice cut the sky.
Omni-Man. Battle suit gleaming, mustache bristling, he hovered across from Eden, eyes cold. "This world is mine."
Eden tilted his head. "And it talks. Gotta hand it to you, system. The realism's solid."
He glanced down at his whale-print pajamas, then at Nolan's crisp uniform.
"Yeah, no. Not fighting in these. System—get me a proper suit."
[As you command.]
Fabric shimmered across his body, replacing flannel with armor. A crimson cape snapped behind him. The design? Damn close to Absolute Superman.
"Perfect." Eden smirked. "Now this is a fight."