A week later.
The Mars expedition ship—humanity's greatest hope—finally reached orbit over the red planet.
From there, four astronauts, handpicked by their nation, detached a smaller lander and guided it down. Thirty minutes later, they stood on the rough, rust-colored surface of Mars.
"Alright, guys. Mission starts now."
"All we have to do is follow the planned route, collect samples, and we're good."
"The ship in orbit will handle the mapping. Give it an hour—it'll circle the planet and get full scans."
Their commander laid out the routine with calm authority.
And Eden? He didn't bother following them to the surface. He was still on top of the expedition ship, eyes closed, running a Simulation.
Because after a week of nonstop training, he was finally ready.
Five days earlier.
Inside the Simulation, Eden once again faced three Elite Viltrumites. But this time, it wasn't just the "Four Kings" trio.
It was Conquest, Nolan, and General Kregg—the three strongest Viltrumites beneath the Regent, Thragg himself.
The battlefield: a barren world.
The three of them—clad in Viltrumite battlesuits, looking far younger than Eden had ever seen them—stood across from him.
Eden didn't waste words. He blitzed forward like a lightning strike, closing in on Conquest.
"Kid, you don't even realize how stupid you are," Conquest growled, hunger for battle lighting up his ruined face.
Eden didn't let him finish. His hand blurred—slicing off Conquest's cybernetic arm, then gouging out his last good eye in one motion.
The movements were fluid, rehearsed. Like muscle memory after hundreds of fights with this same opponent.
"My eye!" Conquest roared, caught off guard by Eden's sheer precision.
Eden didn't slow down. He swung the severed arm like a club, catching Nolan mid-charge and sending him tumbling skyward. Then he twisted, throwing a brutal punch that launched Kregg backward, blood spilling from his nose.
Finally, he turned back to Conquest. His hand chopped down like a blade, splitting the man's abdomen open in a spray of crimson.
Conquest staggered, clutching his stomach—only to take Eden's fist straight to the skull. The impact cratered him into the planet below.
Without a glance, Eden shot after Kregg. His hands clamped down on the general's throat.
"Damn you!" Kregg's fists pounded Eden's chest with terrifying force, but only drew a trickle of blood from his lips.
Then Eden's grip tightened. Bones snapped. Kregg's neck bent at an unnatural angle.
"That leaves just you, Nolan."
Eden's voice was calm, cold.
Nolan returned from orbit, catching sight of his fallen comrades. Rage twisted his face. He dove at Eden, speed redoubled.
Eden smirked. "Heh."
They collided head-on—two Viltrumites crashing together with a shockwave that rattled the entire planet.
Minutes later, the Simulation ended.
[Time: 20 minutes.]
Eden exhaled, the System's voice in his head.
"Twenty minutes to slaughter three Elite Viltrumites. Guess that's enough warm-up. Time for the boss."
His eyes lit with anticipation. He cracked his neck.
"Bring him on. Battle Beast."
[Simulation initializing…]
[Opponent: Battle Beast]
[Arena: Barren planet]
The world shifted.
Across from Eden stood a towering white-furred beast, streaked in blood, radiating bloodlust and madness. A predator. A warrior. A killing machine.
"No need for words. You know why I'm here."
Eden's skin prickled just standing in his presence. His blood surged hot. His heart thundered in his chest, adrenaline flooding his veins.
Finally. A real fight.
"Battle!"
Battle Beast's eyes gleamed, blade flashing from his hip. With a roar, he charged.
They slammed together like meteors colliding. The impact shook the world.
First exchange? Neither gained the upper hand.
Eden slipped past a claw and smashed a fist into the beast's ribs—
—and felt like he'd punched a steel wall. The clang echoed like striking iron.
"You're armored?" Eden frowned.
Battle Beast smirked, tossing aside his blade, ripping off his armor piece by piece. His voice rumbled like thunder: "Don't say I made it easy for myself."
"You'll never take victory from me."
Eden answered with his fist. Battle Beast met him with his own.
Their punches collided. The planet's surface caved in around them, shockwaves carving a vacuum miles wide.
The war raged on, brutal and unrelenting.
"You should know," Battle Beast snarled, claws flashing, "my fangs and claws aren't weapons. They're me."
His talons slashed deep, five bloody craters gouged into Eden's chest.
Eden staggered—then smiled. His eyes flared red, Heat Vision screaming across the battlefield.
"Then don't blame me for this."
The beams seared Battle Beast's eyes, forcing a pained roar from the monster.
"And my Heat Vision? That's not a weapon either. That's me."
Eden charged, pressing the attack.
The fight raged for sixty hours.
Yes—sixty. Even wielding the combined might of Kryptonian and Viltrumite blood, Eden needed nearly three days to finally break the beast. His body was shredded—seventy wounds carved by claw and fang, each cut deep enough to show bone.
But when it was done, Battle Beast lay dead. And Eden, barely breathing, still stood.
"End simulation."
He collapsed beside the corpse, gasping out the words.
[Acknowledged.]
The scene blinked away. Eden was back on the Mars expedition ship, his body intact again.
"How long?" he asked.
[Total: 60 hours.]
"Longest one yet," Eden muttered, shaking his head. His chest still felt phantom pain. "Figures. That thing really lived up to the name."
Then a thought hit him. "Wait. Did we reach Mars yet?"
[Mars orbit was achieved 12 hours ago. The astronauts have been on the surface for 11.]
"Shit."
Eden shot upright, bolting through the atmosphere toward the planet below.
"Only eleven hours? Please tell me those rookie astronauts haven't managed to screw something up already…"
...
Turns out Eden's paranoia always paid off.
Mars.
The Subterranean World.
Four astronauts—handpicked from across the globe, the best of the best—were now surrounded on all sides by legions of Martians, brought before their Emperor.
According to the route mapped out years ago by Martian Man (one of the original Guardians of the Globe), these astronauts could've avoided every danger and completed their mission with ease.
But of course, their blood ran hot with adventure and bravado. And so, they screwed themselves.
When they discovered a cavern glowing with eerie green light, they couldn't resist.
No radiation. Massive energy readings.
They went in.
And walked straight into a Martian ambush—the Sequid nest.
Now they stood in chains before the Martian Emperor himself.
"Hello! We're astronauts from Earth."
"Earth and Mars are both planets of the same solar system."
"We came here with nothing but respect and friendship."
The team leader stepped forward after a five-second pause, trying to make his words count.
The Martian Emperor stared, stone-faced.
"Uh… can you understand what I'm saying?" the leader asked.
"Of course, idiot." The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "I am the Martian Emperor. There is nothing I do not know."
The leader brightened. "That's incredible—you speak English?"
"I'm speaking Martian," the Emperor said flatly, shaking his head.
"Now. Give me one reason not to kill you."
"We come in peace. With respect, and love for all life."
The astronaut leader tried to sound confident.
The Emperor fell silent, then shook his head. "Kill them. Before the Sequids get the chance to."
"Wait! Stop!"
"We don't mean you any harm!"
The astronauts panicked, waving their hands desperately.
"You already have," the Emperor shot back. "From the moment you set foot here, you brought trouble. You don't understand the Sequids. Once they infect intelligent hosts, they multiply into a force capable of wiping out civilizations. Across the galaxy, only we Martians, with our shapeshifting bodies, can resist them. Humans cannot. Which means you die."
He waved his hand. "That's it. Explanation over. Execute them according to Martian law."
"Shit…"
Regret clouded the astronauts' faces. They should never have wandered off the mapped route.
A deafening crash cut through the chamber. The Martian stronghold shook as a massive hole was punched straight through its walls.
From above, a figure descended—black combat suit, a blazing red "S" on his chest. A shadowed face hidden by the hood of a cape.
"Superman?!"
The astronauts shouted instinctively, throwing up their arms in hope. That "S" looked like salvation.
But the leader's voice faltered. "…Wait. Something about this Superman feels off."
The newcomer landed, his voice cool and absolute. "These four. They're coming with me."
It was Eden.
"No!" the Martian Emperor barked. "I've already sentenced them to death!"
Eden sighed. He glanced at the furious ruler with something between pity and annoyance.
In a blur too fast for Martian eyes, he snatched a soldier's weapon—some alloyed blade meant to kill anything—and crushed it into a perfect sphere with his bare hand. He set it down gently in front of the throne.
The Martians gasped.
"Listen carefully," Eden said, Heat Vision flickering crimson in his eyes. His tone was calm, but final. "I'm not asking. This is an order. Unless you want me to roll you into a ball and stuff you in a jar to rot for the rest of your life, you'll do as I say."
The Martian Emperor's lip curled. He held out for five seconds. Then broke. "As… as he commands. Escort the Earthlings back to their ship immediately."
Principle said the Emperor should execute the Earthlings.
But principle itself was standing in front of him.
"Since when was Superman this violent?!" one astronaut whispered. The others looked equally shaken. This was not the Superman they knew.
"Wait."
Eden's voice stopped everything again. The Martian Emperor nearly jumped out of his seat. "What now?"
Eden grabbed one astronaut's arm. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The astronaut gave a nervous laugh—then morphed back into a Martian.
"What the hell?!"
"He's not Smith! He's a Martian imposter!"
"Then where's the real Smith?!"
The astronauts gaped. The Emperor glared murder at his own subject.
"You are exiled," the Emperor growled, condemning the traitor without hesitation.
Eden didn't wait. His Super Senses roared to life, locking onto a signal across the planet. In less than a minute, his body streaked out like a cannonball, leaving the Martian halls behind.
"Your Majesty, what now?" one soldier asked nervously.
"First, get those cursed Earthlings onto their ship. Second, fix the damn ceiling," the Emperor snapped.
Meanwhile, outside on the Martian surface—
"Ahahahaha!"
The real Smith screamed with manic laughter, his body wrapped in a writhing storm of Sequids. Controlled by the parasites, he raised a hand, commanding the swarm. "I'll tear you all apart!"
"No. You won't."
A blaze of light cut across the battlefield. Before the Sequids even realized what happened, Eden ripped Smith free with one hand and launched his fist skyward. Tens of thousands of Sequids went flying.
His Heat Vision followed—searing beams that scorched the Martian sky, reducing the Sequid horde to ash in an instant.
Smith's possessed face twisted in disbelief. "Impossible… The Sequid army has destroyed civilizations! Entire planets! How could they fall in seconds?!"
Eden's shadow loomed over him, silent, absolute.
---
Author's Note: I have five chapters in draft. Depending on the level of support and Powerstones we receive, I will decide on the release schedule. For now, the goal is to reach 500 powerstones for an extra chapter.