The multiverse is not a tapestry. It is a carcass, picked clean by scavengers. And among the greatest of those scavengers was the man who called himself Cisco. Not a hero, not a villain—a scientist. A mind so brilliant it had calcified into madness, its sole fixation the creation of a perfect being.
His lab was not a place of light and glass, but a cathedral of stolen things. Jars lined the walls, each a tomb for a legacy: a flicker of yellow hair that defied gravity, a scrap of orange fabric stained with otherworldly blood, a single, obsidian-scale plucked from the silent heart of infinity. The air hummed with the dissonant choir of a hundred different energies—chakra, ki, cursed energy, cosmic radiation—all held in check by machinery that groaned under the strain.
At the center of it all, on a cold slab, lay Ryukyu. The Dragon Hero of another world. Her formidable quirk was silenced by a collar, her mighty form sedated. She was not a participant in this grand design; she was the foundation. The primal, mythic canvas upon which Cisco would paint his masterpiece.
He worked with the reverence of a priest conducting a blasphemous rite. A syringe of Saiyan DNA, harvested from a world of endless battle. A vial of Viltrumite blood, siphoned from a broken hero. The regenerative plasm of a Namekian. The adaptive horror of a Bio-Android. He injected them not into a tube, but into the nascent life he had forced to begin within her. He stitched together a genome not from scratch, but from the pinnacle of a thousand realities.
The final component was not a liquid, but a scale. A fragment from the Infinity Dragon, Ophis. A thing that was less matter and more the concept of "everything" given form. As he placed it upon the growing, egg-shaped gestation sac that swelled from Ryukyu's side, the very fabric of the lab wailed. Reality itself recognized the abomination coming to be.
The egg pulsed with a light that was all colors and none. Inside, something stirred. A consciousness formed from a cacophony of genetic memories—the serene battle-lust of a Saiyan, the imperial arrogance of a Viltrumite, the cold logic of a Namekian, the hungry void of a Majin. And beneath it all, the deep, ancient rumble of a dragon.
Cisco watched, tears of triumph in his eyes. "Perfect," he whispered.
The egg did not answer. It simply began to hatch.
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