Meanwhile, back a few months in the past back when Hermes and the others were still in the process of saving Talus, King Apollo sat upon his throne. He heard clamoring outside and it sounded as if a whirlwind was breaking through to the palace hall. The 15 foot giant stood and unsheathed his sword. From the darkness came a man in a hood with white hair and prism like eyes. Apollo whispered: "The Light of Truth." The figure stepped forward, each footfall reverberating like a bell toll in a cathedral of glass. The very air around him warped, bending toward his gaze, as though reality itself obeyed his unseen command.
"Do not speak my name so easily, Sun-King," the stranger said, his tone soft but carrying weight like a mountain. "Your throne glitters with fire, but beneath it lies rot. You claim to guard the heavens, yet your kingdom has already been pierced by shadow." Apollo tried to fight back but with a glance he was broken and placed beneath a crater where his throne once stood. The Light of Truth walked up to it and replied:
"You know that with a single glance I could bring the realm of the Apollonian Gods to destruction in a instant if I wished to. If I wished it King Apollo, you and everyone else in this world (which is over 900 trillion trillion times bigger than the known universe) would be nothing but smoldering atoms right now. In fact, you would all be lucky if it was smoldering atoms, you would be lucky if this world was reduced to non-existence at least in your and mortal terms, it's utter-emptiness would be beyond mortal comprehension and yours that much is for sure." 你知道,只要我願意,只要一眼,就能瞬間毀滅阿波羅諸神的國度.阿波羅國王,如果我願意,你和這個世界（比已知宇宙大900萬億億倍）的所有人,現在都會變成燃燒的原子.事實上,如果這個世界是燃燒的原子,你們就算幸運了;如果這個世界化為烏有,至少以你們和凡人的眼光來看,你們也算幸運了.它的徹底虛空將超越凡人的理解,而你們的理解更是毋庸置疑.
The Sun King knew that every word was the truth but he couldn't say anything, all he could do was tremble in fear. "Where is Kakia, why did you let her into your fold, idiot," said the child. The Sun King crumbled, "Kakia?" Nur was frustrated, "I figured you don't know anything, but I had to be sure… damnit do you know the damage you've caused. Because of this we might all be dead in two hundred years. You bastard, I should kill you right here, right now." King Apollo shuddered in terror.
Daniel fighting Ebisu as the Cosmic Water Dragon at the end of Book I.
Okirun II's Nightmare:
Meanwhile in Okirun II's world, Okirun II was doing his weekly podcast where he discussed how the Void had infiltrated all levels of power on the planet and how its power went beyond that. He did a monologue that went on for over two hours. When the show was over he turned the webcam off, his roommate was already asleep in the next room. He took a shower and went to bed. In the darkness a figure came to him. A demonic being that looked like a bugman. The creature approached Okirun II. Okirun said to himself, "It's this creature again, what does it want?" The creature said, "Come on kid I want the Void destroyed as badly as you do." When the creature said this you could clearly hear the anger in his voice, there was no lying in him from this statement he clearly wanted it destroyed, but why? "Now take my hand and take me to the outside world. Then I'll make you that strongest of God's Creatures you will stand at the pinnacle of creation. You clearly have more than enough potential kid. Enough potential to rule over this entire world!! Here take my power and all will kneel before you." Okirun began to toss and turn and his roommate began to stir as he noticed that Okirun was acting unusually. Back in the dream the creature said, "You need to take this power, it will force all to bow before you." Okirun replied coldly, "The answer is still no." The creature began to scream in anger with its mandibles, "You little shit. You need the power right now!! You know what the void is doing, what it's done and what it will do, every moment you negate me the more blood is on your hands, you could end this all in an instant. You need murderous intent to slaughter all of your enemies, and leave the sorting out to God." The creature calmed down and said, "Do you feel it, it's the countless infinities of souls slaughtered by the Void yearning for freedom." The creature snapped his fingers and they were in a lush forest. He gave the child some water that was pure. It looked like liquid glass, "taste the creation that you could have at your fingertips if you take my power." The boy didn't move. Then the beast handed the boy a sack of golden coins. The boy didn't move. Finally the creature laughed and said, "Ok I'll sweeten the deal. All you have to do is bow down before me and worship me. If you do this I will give you this entire world." Finally Okirun smirked, "You can give me the entire world, yet you need my permission to give me your power, you're a liar, and your words stink of desperation. You're so pathetic." One would think the creature would be angry but it just chuckled. In an instant the forest disappeared.
"I've tried to tempt you over two hundred times time now but you still won't listen. You know what the void is doing. Why won't you submit?" The boy said nothing. The creature sighed, "Well I'll continue to help you in battle and give you a small portion of my power, what I am able, but one of these days you'll need to submit, if you don't,... we're all dead." After this Okirun woke up in a cold sweat. His roommate got up and rushed to his bedside. He asked, "are you okay?" Okirun replied; "Yeah I'm fine. Just give me a minute. I need to get some fresh air, terrible nightmare, I'll talk about it in the morning."
Okirun II went outside and called Okirun I back in the other timeline. Okirun I was eating potato chips and laughing at the Jeffersons. He saw his doppleganger was calling and he rolled his eyes. It had been one month and they still had five more months before they had to return to their native timelines. "What do you want, dickhole?" O II said over the phone: "Have you seen a strange creature in your dreams? I've seen the same one over and over again, he came again tonight I just woke up." OI laughed and said: "Wow, that's so fascinating. Look asshole I don't have time for your shit, just do your thing and stop wasting my god-damn time." OI hung up the phone, but then he felt something he saw Hermes who he did not know fighting some strange Shark-Man. The image in his mind was clear but it ended as soon as it started. "What was that?" he thought, he held his head in pain but the pain had already ended, he shrugged it off and went back to watching television, in the distance was the Light of Truth (Nur al-Sadiq) standing on a telephone wire. Looking across towards the house.
Meanwhile back on Planet Helios with the young warrior Xing (joining the Digger Association):
The air grew dense and weighty as Ying neared the Spire-Canyons, realm of the Diggers. The rust-dust of the highlands had given way to damp black soil, and the low, endless roar of the Serpent's Tail River pressed in on his ears. Alongside the path loomed a moss-cloaked aqueduct, an artifact from an age before memory, its ancient joints weeping with moisture. Ying shifted the strap of his pack, feeling the drag of his training gear. The tryouts were today—his chance. For two weeks he'd walked, replaying every form, every strike, every block until they lived in his marrow. He was ready. Then the world stilled.
The river still rumbled, but beneath it came something deeper—a subterranean vibration that climbed up through his sandals and into his bones. The aqueduct's torrent began to froth and boil. Ying froze, dropping low, amber Pneuma flickering to life around his fists. Something was wrong. With a sound like thunder splitting stone, a section of the aqueduct burst apart. Blocks the size of huts hurled skyward. From the gap surged a pillar of water, twisting into the shape of a vast serpent. Two spiraling vortexes spun where its eyes should have been, and riverweed strung with shattered masonry clung to its body like bones and armor. Its voice was no roar but the catastrophic crash of a collapsing waterfall, a shockwave that hurled Ying from his feet. A Tidal Wraith. A spirit of the river, corrupted and enraged, barring the only way to the citadel.
The vortices locked on him. It felt his Pneuma and marked him as prey. A scything limb of water lashed out, cleaving a trench where he had stood. Spray struck him like fists, stealing his breath. He scrambled onto the broken aqueduct, Pneuma bursting in a leap. The Wraith surged upward after him, a tidal wave with purpose. Think! Old Man Hemming's words echoed: "Pneuma isn't only a fist. It's your will. It can strike, it can harden, it can endure. Be the rock that splits the river."
The river. Ying inhaled deeply. He planted his feet, his aura flaring not around his fists but his whole frame, condensing into the shape of an unyielding mountain—the Unmoving Peak kata. The Wraith slammed into him. The weight was titanic, water roaring with the strength of a thousand tons. Ying's body shook, every muscle on fire, but his spirit held. For a breathless instant, the torrent split around him.
The Wraith recoiled, bewildered by resistance. Through the spray Ying glimpsed it: a glowing core pulsing within, the nexus of spirit and river. Its weakness. But he had no path to reach it— "Hey! Over here!" A boy stood by the river's edge, maybe a year older, robes plain, pack worn. No weapon—just a fishing rod. Before Ying could warn him, the boy flicked his wrist. A line gleamed out, silver with Pneuma, weaving through the Wraith's body. It looped and knotted with deft, practiced motion, binding the riverweed that laced the spirit like nerves. The creature faltered, tangled, sluggish.
"Now!" the boy shouted, his voice steady, his focus locked on the line. "Its core!" Ying didn't hesitate. Pneuma blazed. He launched forward, a comet of amber light, drilling straight into the Wraith's chest. His strike pierced deep, connecting with the core. Shattering light. The crystal winked out. The Wraith gave a drowning sigh and collapsed, its vast body crashing harmlessly into the riverbed. A single wave soaked both boys, and then only the true roar of the river remained. Panting, Ying dropped to the mud. He turned to the boy, who calmly reeled in his shimmering line.
"Who… who are you?" Ying rasped. The boy offered a modest smile. "Kaito, of Reed Village. We know the river's moods." His eyes flicked to the shattered aqueduct and the distant citadel. "Seems the tryouts have already begun."
Mark Gomez's Interesting but Ordinary Life:
Mark Gomez was an incredibly interesting man. He was an American, and he was a Secular Atheist for years though he had no negative views of traditional religion and was only raised as a lapsed Catholic who some time attended Protestant services with his parents he was born to an Irish Catholic father and a Mexican mother, he had a sister Lila who moved out of the house when Mark was 16 and still in high school. Mark got excellent grades and went to Yale when he was 19 years old and attending college he got in a car accident that nearly killed him. When he was in a coma he had a dream where an angel met him and told him to search. He went on to study religions and traveled all over the world (planet Earth), he went to Tibet and learned from Tibetan Buddhists Lamas on the Buddhist sutras, he went to Saudi Arabia, Damascus and Egypt to learn Hadith and Quran from Sunni Muslim Shaykhs as well as Twelver Shi'ite Marjas in Iran, Assyrian priests in Iraq, from various Roman Catholic, Lutheran and Eastern Orthodox Christian church leaders in Europe and even Russia, he studied Amerindian religion and Native American Christianity on American Indian Reservations in the United States, from Indian tribes in Brazil, from Animist tribes in Subsaharan Africa, he studied under Sikh Gurus, Brahmins and Jain monks on Jainism, Hinduism and Sikhism in India, he studied under Buddhist and Taoist monks all over China, from Tengrist and Buddhist priests in Mongolia and from Shinto and Buddhist leaders in Japan. Eventually on a second trip to India, this time in Gujarat he discovered his religion, the Tayyibi Isma'ili creed of Shia Islam.
And went before several leaders of the group and took the oath of faith, declaring, "There is no God but God." He went on to join the Inayati Sufi order, a Universalist Sufi Order (Tariqa) that was open to all mankind on the planet regardless of any and all belief and became a prominent leader there meeting people all over the world like Hamza Yusuf (b. 1958) and Sadhguru. He made sermons for both the Nizari and Tayyibi Ismaili community throughout Dubai, India, China, Japan, South Korea, Australia, Russia, the western countries of Europe and America and elsewhere in the world. But he had a darker side: he was married to an atheist woman from America and he had several children whom he allowed to follow any religion they chose so all seemed well, but he was having an affair with a Lebanese Arab Catholic woman who was married to a Sunni Muslim Arab man. This affair had been going on for over ten years. He was an expert in over 90 world religions and major and minor religious sects. He was now 38, additionally he also regularly slept with very expensive prostitutes as he was very wealthy despite being a prominent Ismaili religious leader. Needless to say he was less than faithful. He felt guilty about it, he was guilty about this all the time he had a lucrative job at a Nizari Ismaili organization in Texas and also served as a Professor at the University of Houston with tenure but he felt as if there was something that wasn't whole in his life. Something he thought God would fill.
He was on his computer before class when the screen started to go static. A woman's voice was heard through the computer and it began to go static. Then Mark saw an elf girl fighting a strange looking man with a mustache who looked wicked. As soon as the vision started it ended, he held his head in pain but when he realized he was doing this the pain had already passed. "I need to get to class," he thought. He picked up his papers and headed for the classroom to teach his students.
A Rock Lobster:
Meanwhile outside of the Federation out-post Hermes and her followers were fighting to save Talus, a large man, an anthropomorphic Lobster who was humming and singing on his way to the battlefield. He noticed big explosions in the distance. The lobster cracked his back, farted, and continued to walk forward. A giant warrior appeared from the bushes, "Stop, you outside of Federation territory, turn back now." The lobster was not flustered. He calmly and cooly said, "Whoah, Dadeo! Nothing to worry about here, relax." The man would not calm down; he kept escalating the situation until he finally rushed the lobster. The lobster threw a single punch and there was nothing but blood and viscera everywhere, he was gone. "Man, I used too much power again, I gotta relax with that, I don't know my own strength." He saw the battle unfolding far away. "That's starting to get me excited, alright get ready for the Rock Lobster!!" The lobster began to run at Mach 3 speed.
Back on the Train on the Dream Ocean, Talus and Hermes mingle at the Gala Dance.
The Dream Train hummed along its silver tracks, gliding through an endless sea of starlight. Inside one of its grand gala cars, chandeliers of shifting crystal swayed in rhythm with the motion, casting kaleidoscopic lights over polished marble floors. The music was soft but lively, violins and shamisen in an unlikely duet. Guests in shimmering tuxedos and gowns mingled, their laughter mixing with the sound of clinking glasses. Talus stood by one of the long windows, jacket open, crimson tie slightly askew—he was never one to keep his formal wear in order. The glow of the cosmos outside framed his silhouette as he took a sip of something fizzy and bright.
Scott Greer approached, tall and composed, his black suit tailored with military precision. Adjusting his cuffs, he gave Talus a grin.
"Quite the ride, huh? A train that never touches the earth. Makes me think history itself could've taken another path if we'd had something like this." Talus smirked. "History, huh? You mean the Soviet Union thing again?" Greer's eyes lit with that familiar mix of amusement and calculation. "Exactly. Its fall wasn't just political collapse. It was a failure of imagination, of adaptation. You can't lock minds in chains forever. When the dreams dried up, the system crumbled."
Talus leaned back against the window frame, arms crossed. "Heh. Dreams, huh? Guess that's what this train's all about." He tilted his head, watching streaks of aurora wash past in the void. "Still, I kinda get it. Even the strongest warriors, if they stop changing, they break." Greer chuckled. "That's the core. Which brings me to something I've been working on." He reached into his breast pocket and produced a small vial—liquid glinting like liquid sapphire. "A new cognitive supplement. An IQ enhancer, if you will. Safe, tested, scalable. Not just to make people smarter—but sharper, more adaptive. Imagine minds that don't hit the wall of stagnation like the Soviets did."
Talus whistled low, eyes wide with anime-style sparkles. "Whoa, serious power-up vibes. Like a senzu bean, but for your brain." He jabbed a finger toward Greer with a grin. "Careful, though. Stuff like that could create some real overpowered rivals. And trust me, you don't want to fight a guy who's read every book and memorized every strategy." Greer smirked, slipping the vial away as the music swelled. "That's why distribution matters. Not just who gets it, but how. Wisdom without balance can be as destructive as any empire." For a moment, the two of them just stood there, watching the dreamscape beyond the glass—a world of infinite galaxies, each glowing like lanterns in the void. Talus finally chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess even at a gala, we can't stop talking about battles—whether it's fists, empires, or brains."
Greer raised his glass in salute. "What else are nights like these for?" And with that, the violins struck a higher note, the guests around them laughed louder, and the Dream Train sped on into eternity.
The gala lights dimmed ever so slightly, chandeliers shifting to a softer hue of rose and violet. Talus was mid-laugh at one of Greer's jabs about "magic" when the sound of heels against marble cut through the music.
Hermes stepped into the glow. Her dress was a rich crimson, flowing like liquid fire, the kind that turned every head as she passed. The neckline shimmered with threads of starlight woven through the fabric, and her silver hair, pinned back with a jeweled clasp, caught the chandelier's glow like frost touched by dawn. Talus froze. His usual smirk faltered, cheeks burning crimson to match her gown. He tried to turn away, but his reflection in the dream-glass betrayed him: eyes wide, pupils like little stars caught in orbit.
Hermes stopped before them, shifting slightly on her heels, fingers brushing the folds of her dress. For once her composure wavered, just enough for her voice to come softer, tentative. "Well… what do you think?" Talus nearly choked on his drink. "Wh—what do I—uh—I mean it's… you look—uh—" His words scrambled like cards in a storm. Greer noticed instantly. His grin spread ear to ear. "Oh, now this is priceless." He leaned closer to Talus, voice teasing but just loud enough for Hermes to overhear. "The mighty Talus, Apostate of the Demon Clan… taken down in one shot by a dress. Remarkable. History in the making."
"Sh-shut up!" Talus hissed, flailing slightly, his tie nearly slapping Greer in the face. He tried to play it cool, folding his arms, but his ears glowed redder than the wine in his glass. Hermes, catching the exchange, let out a tiny laugh that betrayed her nerves. "You're terrible at lying, Talus." The music shifted then, violins blooming into a waltz, the floor clearing as couples began to pair off. Greer raised his glass one last time, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I hear dance floors are excellent battlegrounds." Before Talus could protest, Hermes extended her hand. Her eyes darted to the side for just a moment, then back to his. "Shall we?"
Talus swallowed hard. The blush on his face had gone nuclear. With an awkward laugh and a scratch to the back of his neck, he took her hand. "Y-Yeah… guess we shall." Meanwhile, at the other end of the room stood the Imam al-Tayyib on one side eyes closed and arms crossed and on the other side of the room were Ungar and Lupus both with arms crossed side by side. Ungar seemed frustrated. Lupus looked over stoically, "What's wrong?..." Ungar shook his head: "It's nothing, don't worry about it." Lupus looked forward again, "Well alright then." As this occurred Lupus and Hermes danced their way over to both Ungar and Lupus. They were laughing at something. Talus asked Lupus, "Hey buddy, want to jump in and have a turn too." Lupus scoffed: "Tch, I have no interest in such trivial things. And besides, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I'd never hear the end of it from my wife." Talus's eyes went all seductive, "I wasn't talking about switching with me, I was talking about switching with her." As he said this Hermes began to chuckle and almost bust at the scenes wanting to laugh. Lupus was angered:
"What did you say?" Talus said: "Yeah big boy, I know you want to wrap your hands around all this man-meat." After this Hermes began to hysterically laugh out loud. "OH REAL MATURE! Not in a million years you clown!! What… What the hell is your problem!!" Talus laughed again, "Ok ok man, I didn't know you were some kind of homophobe, I'll see you later." They danced away and Lupus was now shaking with anger, he was a primal warrior he had a sense of humor when it came to such things. "That little bastard insinuating that…" he paused and looked up Ungar was clearly distressed. "Hmmm… something's wrong, he would have told them to lay off or told me to calm down if he weren't distracted. I shouldn't push him though. That brute could reduce me to atoms in an instant." Ungar for his part began to walk towards the Imam, the Imam had the same worried to look in his eyes, was there something ominous about?
The violins swelled and couples swept onto the floor, but Hermes didn't move right away. She glanced toward the balcony doors, then back at Talus. Her hand lingered on the fold of her dress as if she were steadying herself. "Do you… want some air?" she asked. Talus, still blushing like a rookie on his first mission, nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah. Good idea." Greer chuckled into his glass. "I'll have what they're having." Talus uttered: "Jeez, what an annoying piece-of-crap."
The night air outside was cool, filled with the scent of stars—if stars could have a scent. The balcony stretched like an island above the cosmic ocean, rails of silver weaving delicate patterns that shimmered with dreamlight. Below, nebulae drifted in slow swirls, galaxies glittering like lanterns tossed onto a black sea. Hermes leaned against the rail, her red dress catching the wind like a flame refusing to go out. Talus stood a little ways off at first, scratching the back of his neck, then finally stepped closer.
"Back there," Hermes said, voice softer than the music behind them. "When I asked what you thought… I wasn't just talking about the dress." Talus blinked, caught off guard. His heart pounded, though he tried to cover it with his usual grin. "Heh. Could've fooled me." She shot him a side glance, nervous but earnest. "Do you remember… that night at the console? When I told you about wanting a normal life?" Talus nodded immediately. "Of course I do." His voice dropped lower, serious now. "That wasn't the kind of thing I could forget, Hermes." She sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Sometimes I feel selfish for saying it. Wanting things I know I'll never have. But… when I see you laughing—like tonight—it makes me think maybe I could still be happy. Even if my life's never normal."
Talus swallowed, leaning his arms on the rail beside her. He wasn't grinning anymore. His tone was quiet, almost reverent. "Hermes… that night you said today was the first time you were happy. I never told you, but… same goes for me. Whenever we're like this—just… people, not fighters—I don't feel cursed anymore." For a moment, the stars seemed to pause. Hermes' hand rested on the railing, trembling just slightly. Talus noticed, and before he could overthink it, he placed his hand over hers. Hermes stiffened, then laughed softly at herself, nervous but sincere. "You're ridiculous, Talus."
He smirked, though his voice carried a tremor. "Yeah, I guess. But maybe being ridiculous is what keeps us alive." Inside, the violins swelled louder, and the doors cracked open just enough for Scott Greer's voice to float out. "Careful, you two! You're turning my philosophical moment at this gala into a romance novel!" Talus groaned. Hermes blushed. But neither of them pulled their hand away.
The balcony lanterns flickered to life, glowing in warm shades of crimson and gold, casting playful shadows across the railings. It almost felt like one of those nights—half confession, half cosmic karaoke. Hermes tugged gently at the edge of her dress, trying not to meet Talus' eyes directly. "You know… if this were a normal world, this would be the part where we'd sneak off to some high school rooftop and talk about the future. Not a dream train flying through the void." Talus gave a lopsided grin, leaning on the rail. "Heh. I'd probably still be making a fool of myself, though. Loud, dumb, and hoping you didn't notice how red my face was."
Hermes laughed—a small, shy sound, but real. "You're not as unreadable as you think you are." She looked down at their hands, still touching on the rail, and then up at him, cheeks pink. "And for the record… I don't mind the noise. Sometimes it drowns out my own doubts." The violins shifted into a softer tune—jazzy, mellow, almost like the background music of a midnight café. From inside, shadows of dancers twirled across the curtains. Talus tilted his head toward the open floor. "You know, they say this is the part where the hero asks the girl to dance. Problem is…" He rubbed his neck, suddenly awkward. "I've never been any good at it. I was freestyling when we danced before." Hermes blinked, surprised, then gave him the tiniest smile, nervous but warm. "Neither have I." They hesitated for a moment, then both laughed at the absurdity of it. Talus straightened, offering his hand like he'd seen in movies, his ears burning crimson. Hermes, after a long pause, placed hers in his.
They stepped onto the empty edge of the balcony, the universe itself their stage. Their first movements were clumsy—Talus nearly stepped on her foot, Hermes bumped into the railing—but slowly, almost stubbornly, they found a rhythm. Not graceful, not perfect… but theirs. Through the half-open door, Scott Greer leaned against the frame, arms crossed, smirking like a velvet-room attendant watching a bond deepen. "Well, would you look at that," he muttered to himself, his voice just loud enough for them to catch. "The Apostate and the Prophetess, forging a Social Link at rank 7. Not bad." Talus shot him a glare mid-spin. "Quit narrating, Greer!" Hermes laughed harder than she meant to, the tension breaking at last. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't the Prophetess, he wasn't the reckless brawler—they were just two people, awkwardly trying to dance under starlight while a smug onlooker kept score. They danced back into the train cart as they did Greer said: "Um check please!" Talus responded: "God, will you shut up!" And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
Hermes takes on the Shark Man, Lupus takes on Doctor Anton Volker his defeat triggers Hermes.
`On the battlefield back several months ago in their mission to save Talus Hermes was fighting some strange shark man. Meanwhile elsewhere on the battlefield Lupus had driven back the Black Harpist and the crew was pushing forward. Hermes for her part continued to fight this brute he was incredibly powerful; he was taking a toll on her until he saw a creature made of crystal speaking to her beside her, "You're willing to perish without giving it your all, you mortals truly are an enigma." Shark was terrified he began to stagger backwards which confused Hermes. He began to cower in fear more and more. Hermes asked himself: "Why on earth is he so afraid?" The shark creature let out a: "How the hell did that creature get inside of you??… you have an administrative being inside of you." Hermes shot back: "I don't know what you're talk about buddy!" But the look on his face stunned her yet again. Hermes then shouted: "SPILL IT, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" The shark shot back: "THE STARMEN! These beings [Aliens] that came from the future to enslave all of the mortals in this time!" Hermes could not believe she humored this lunatic. "Shut the hell up you god-damn schizophrenic!!" Hermes shouted and finally powered up into this metal robot form. "Now you're gonna get it, buddy!"
On the battlefield elsewhere a powerful force bumped straight into Lupus as he was pressing forward several others including Ungar and Imam al-Tayyib followed behind the wolf king. This figure was none other than a long time rival Doctor Anton Volker. But this was strange, Volker for the time being was supposed to be on their side. Lupus engaged the old man, "Get out of the old way old man we're supposed to be pressing forward." Volker laughed, "I am sorry Herr Lupus, are paths must all diverge here I'm afraid, you should have assumed I was working for the Federation at the moment." Lupus growled, "What are you talking about?" The doctor chuckled: "Do you have wax in your ears, I'm saying I'm going to bury you all right here, right now." Ungar, El-Cid, Zaiyal, Tatu, al-Tayyib and the others got in fighting positions but Lupus held his hand out. "I'll handle this." He laughed: "You forgot one critical thing, doctor?" said Lupus. The doctor laughed: "And what's that?" Lupus then triumphantly said: "That I am number one."
The battlefield was a storm of broken earth and lightning skies, the clash of Lupus' radiant aura and Volker's crimson circuitry warping reality itself. The air shimmered as if torn between two worlds, each one threatening to consume the other. Lupus stood tall, his fur bristling with white fire, eyes blazing with determination. "I told you before, Doctor. I am number one." His voice echoed like thunder across the battlefield. Volker only grinned, his circuits burning brighter, his face bathed in red light. "And I told you, Herr Lupus… genius will always find a way to stand shoulder to shoulder with strength." They launched forward at once, their fists colliding with such force that mountains in the distance cracked, avalanches spilling into valleys as nature itself recoiled from their duel. Lupus roared, his claws swiping in blinding arcs. Each slash was accompanied by the howl of the White Dragon, spectral wings shimmering behind him. His strikes left trails of searing energy that split the ground like lightning.
Volker countered with precision, his circuits anticipating every angle. "God Circuit: Hexagonal Aegis!" Crimson plates of light materialized to intercept, each one fracturing under the relentless blows but instantly regenerating with mechanical efficiency. Lupus darted past the defenses, driving his fist into Volker's chest. The doctor staggered, coughing blood, but instead of faltering, he laughed wildly. "More! Show me more, beast-king!" "You asked for it," Lupus snarled. He thrust both arms outward, his aura detonating into a maelstrom of dragon-shaped flames. "White Dragon Tempest!" Dozens of blazing dragons spiraled outward, engulfing Volker in an inferno of celestial fire. For a moment, the battlefield became a sun. Then the light cracked apart as Volker emerged, battered but alive, his armor glowing with unstable fury. "Ragnarok Overdrive!" His circuits expanded, threads of red light piercing the sky like pillars.
Lupus braced himself, chest heaving. He could feel the weight pressing down — the first sign that his body was straining under the constant unleashing of power. But he pushed it down, baring his fangs. "You won't break me!" Volker hurled a storm of crimson blades, each spinning with the velocity of meteors. Lupus met them head-on, his claws tearing them apart in showers of sparks, but each clash slowed him a little more, every movement slightly heavier than the last. "Your body weakens," Volker observed, eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. "That wolf's pride may be eternal, but even the strongest beast has limits."
Lupus panted, but raised his fist once more. "Then I'll break those limits." His aura surged, forming a colossal dragon above him, its scales pure light. He charged forward. "Final White Dragon Fist!" Volker screamed and unleashed his own finishing move. "God Circuit: Ragnarok Blast!" The beam of crimson annihilation tore forward, colliding with the white dragon in a blinding supernova that consumed the battlefield. The shockwave blasted armies back, tore forests from the earth, and split rivers down the middle. Even Ungar, braced like a mountain, was forced to slide back, teeth clenched. Imam al-Tayyib watched with grave calm, his lips moving in silent prayer. When the light subsided, both warriors stood in the crater, smoke rising from their broken armor. Lupus' fur was scorched, blood dripping down his arm. Volker's circuits flickered, sparking violently as if seconds from collapse.
Lupus staggered forward, lifting his fist again. "This… isn't over." His aura flared weakly, a pale echo of the dragon it once was. Still, the determination in his eyes never wavered. Volker chuckled, spitting blood. "No, it isn't. But look at you, Herr Lupus. You're burning yourself out. Little by little… you're being worn down. The king bleeds, and the crown grows heavy." They stared at one another, neither able to take the final step. A silent agreement seemed to pass between them — not of peace, but of unfinished war. This duel was only a prelude to something greater. Volker's circuits dimmed as he stepped back, vanishing into the smoke with a sinister laugh. Lupus collapsed to one knee, clutching his side, his breath ragged. "Damn it… I can't keep this pace forever," he muttered. Yet even in his exhaustion, he smiled. The war was far from over, and he would rise again.
20 Minutes earlier: Demon King Daimao and the Holy Knight Gabriel arrive at the Federation Base and meet with Kakia and the Coyote Wolf (Lucious).
Kakia smiled, welcome back gentlemen, this is my new acquaintance, "Lucious." The black furred wolf smiled, "nice to meet you both." He tried to shake Gabriel's hand but Gabriel shouted: "Foul blight on creation I will not break bread with one of the enemies of God." Lucious smiled: "Fine by me." The Demon King grumbled, "Why did you order us back here, witch?" Kakia smiled: "Well sillykins, that's because you're going to be part of the super duper pooper new plan." A dark portal opened, a figure walked out it was an old man with a white beard and goatee and a small impish creatures standing beside him. Kakia smiled, "This is Doctor Anton Volker and his servant Krampus." The Demon King and Lucious (the Coyote Wolf) in an instant were overcome with fear and terror.
The air seemed to collapse into itself as the old man stepped through the portal. Doctor Anton Volker's white beard gleamed like hoarfrost under the voidlight, his impish companion Krampus chuckling at his side. His presence wasn't just heavy—it was corrosive. The Demon King, hardened by countless aeons of carnage, flinched in spite of himself. The Coyote Wolf's fur bristled, a deep growl in his throat. Neither dared speak.
Volker adjusted his spectacles and looked around with disarming calm. His voice came soft, like a kindly grandfather speaking a bedtime story, yet laced with venom. "Children, children (Kinder, Kinder)… you're still playing at rebellion. But the truth is this: Hermes' power will never awaken unless her heart breaks. And who better to break it… than by dragging her beloved wolf into the pit?" Lupus' name hung in the room like a curse. The Demon King snarled low, but the sound trembled. Lucious, the Coyote Wolf, bared his teeth and turned his head aside, shame and revulsion mingling. Both demons felt it clearly—Volker was not merely wicked. He was fundamentally unclean, a rot deeper than their own sins. For the first time, they recognized an evil beyond their comprehension, and it shook them. Kakia clapped her hands together with a girlish squeal, hopping on her toes like a schoolgirl at recess. "Eeee~! Isn't he just adorbs in the worst possible way? Sooo much nastier than all you boring grumble-bums." Her voice wavered between singsong mockery and sharp cruelty. "Here's the super-duper-pooper master plan, sillykins: we hurt wolfy-boy, Hermes cries, kaboom—her heart splits open like a piñata, and guess who gets to scoop up all the candy? Us!"
Gabriel's gauntleted fists shook. His eyes were locked not only on Volker but on the entire gathering. His knightly aura burned with disdain. "You are all abominations, every last one of you," he spat. "Demons, witches, heretics. I should cut you all down where you stand." Volker glanced at him with mild amusement. "But you won't, boy. Not yet. You still think the Federation's leash leads you somewhere holy." Gabriel gritted his teeth. "I serve justice. Not you." He said no more, but the truth was written across his face: he wanted to slaughter them all, even as he restrained himself for now. The Demon King, silent until now, shifted uneasily. He remembered battlefields drenched in blood, remembered the glory of slaughter. Yet this Volker… this creature cloaked in human flesh… he was something else. Something that repelled him. For the first time, the Demon King thought: Perhaps I am standing on the wrong side. The seed was planted.
Lucious the Coyote Wolf, less direct but more calculating, curled his lips in disgust. He didn't say a word, but inwardly vowed: If this is the Federation's true ally… then perhaps the Federation is not mine. His flipping of sides would come slower, through trial and hesitation, but it began here. Kakia giggled, swaying side to side as if dancing to a tune only she could hear. "Oh, and don'tcha worry, little dumplings. After Hermes cracks open, Krampy and Volky here are gonna play tag with your favorite sewer rats. Isn't that right, Krampus?"
The imp bowed theatrically, cloven hooves clacking on the stone. "Indeed, mistress. A clone of the doctor, and yours truly in the flesh, shall be dispatched. Together, we will hunt down that meddlesome Mark and the wretched little B-Team crawling through the sewers." His grin widened to show too many teeth. "We'll string them up like ornaments." Volker placed his hands behind his back and smiled with thin patience. "All things in time. For now, Lupus will suffer. Hermes will scream. And when she breaks… the Void will feast." The room was heavy with silence. Even demons shifted uncomfortably. Only Kakia giggled, her voice like glass shattering in a child's toy chest.
Mark and the B Team:
The air was thick with mildew and rot, every step squelching as Mark led the way. His sword's edge gleamed faintly in the torchlight, a silver arc that cut through the shadows as much as through flesh. The first wave of creatures came screeching from the darkness—skeletal things with claws like rusted hooks. Mark swung once, twice, and the corridor was painted red. Behind him, the other warriors pressed forward, boots splashing in ankle-deep filth. The sewer narrowed into a jagged tunnel, the ceiling dripping stagnant water. A hulking shape lurched from the sludge, its body stitched together from drowned corpses, its maw dripping worms. Mark barked a wordless cry and drove his blade upward, splitting its belly as two spearmen thrust into its sides. The creature toppled into the mire, breaking apart in pieces as though it had never been whole. The team pressed on, the sound of their breathing echoing against stone.
Swarm after swarm erupted from side passages—rats twisted into dog-sized vermin, eyeless lizards that snapped at their throats, shadow-wraiths that lunged from cracks in the wall. The warriors fought in rhythm, a brutal choreography of steel and grit. Mark cleaved through three vermin in a single sweep, then pivoted to ram his shoulder into a wraith, pinning it against the wall for another to finish with an axe. Their path was carved from blood and sweat. The deeper they descended, the louder the underground river roared. They hacked through slimy vine-things that writhed like serpents, their tendrils lashing at shields. Arrows whistled through the darkness, finding purchase in shrieking bat-men that swooped down from above. Mark's shield arm ached, his breath ragged, but his steps never slowed. The warriors trusted his pace, their blades rising and falling in steady cadence.
At last, the fetid tunnel widened into a cavern where the stench of rust and damp iron grew stronger. Through the haze of steam and rot, they could feel it—an oppressive energy pressing down on them, the sense of cages and shackles not far below. The monsters thinned for a moment, corpses littering the water like broken driftwood. Mark steadied himself, torch high. They weren't there yet, but every breath, every echo told them the cell holding Talus was drawing nearer.
Back to the Present: Lupus vs. Volker.
The Lobster man was busy punching some dragon creature into the dirt when he noticed a large power upsurge. "Oh jeez, I'm gonna miss the big fight. Damn, its time like this I get all fired up." He took off again this time at Mach 4 speed in the direction of the battle. The battlefield trembled as Lupus, his body battered and aura dim, made his final charge. But Anton Volker's circuits blazed crimson, his movement faster than sight. With a flash, the doctor drove his hand straight through Lupus' stomach.
A strangled howl tore from the Wolf King's throat. His eyes went wide, white fire sputtering violently around his frame as blood poured down his side. The ground beneath him split, the air shattering with the force of his collapse. Volker leaned close, his grin sharp as a knife. "Number one? Then bleed for me, Herr Lupus." He wrenched his hand free and stepped back, letting the wolf stagger. Lupus fell to his knees, clutching the wound, his aura fading into pale embers. Narcis was at his side in an instant. "Hold on, brother!" he cried, hands glowing with healing light. His energy poured desperately into the wound, sealing flesh as fast as the blood spilled. Lupus groaned, eyes half-lidded, but even as pain wracked his body, he smirked through clenched teeth. "I'm… not done yet…"
Then Hermes arrived. The skies shook as her power surged, her form transforming — hair burning white, eyes glowing with a piercing blue. Her aura erupted like a star, splitting the clouds. She was Hyper Hermes, her very presence bending the battlefield. "Volker!" she roared, her voice shaking the earth. Her energy surged outward in a blinding storm… and then the unthinkable happened. Volker's circuitry absorbed it. Every pulse of her power streamed into him like rivers feeding an endless void. His broken circuits stabilized, glowing brighter than ever, his body swelling with stolen strength.
The doctor threw back his head and laughed, the sound cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Yes! That's it! Feed me, prophetess! Your Hyper form was made for me! Give me the power of the Cosmic Abyss!!" Hermes froze, her face twisting in horror. Every ounce of strength she poured into the world only made Volker's light burn hotter. Behind her, Narcis struggled to keep Lupus alive, shouting through gritted teeth: "Hermes! Stop — you're killing him!" The battlefield hung on a knife's edge — Lupus broken but breathing, Hermes blazing but backfiring, and Volker rising like a crimson titan drunk on their despair.
Lupus staggered back to his feet, his body still aching, the wound in his stomach sealed shut by Narcis' glowing hands, it was already sealing because of the immortality pills he took with Talus along ago with Talus during his training with Sakayumi Buddha, but Narcis had sped up the process. The Wolf King breathed raggedly, every inhale sharp with pain, but at least he was no longer spilling his blood onto the soil. His aura flickered, pale and unsteady, yet his eyes widened in shock when he saw Hermes blazing before him. White hair danced like fire, her piercing blue eyes cutting through the smoke of battle. "Hermes…" he muttered, his voice rough but full of awe. "I can't believe… you've grown this strong…"
Narcis leaned back, his healing done, sweat dripping down his brow. "You'll heal now faster you would have naturall before," he said firmly, though exhaustion made his voice tremble. He caught his comrade's arm, steadying him, but even as relief passed through him, dread filled his chest. Because Ungar's voice split the air with brutal finality: "Fools! Don't you see? It's pointless!" The warlock's eyes burned as he pointed at Volker, whose crimson frame pulsed brighter with every surge of energy. "All her power — every ounce of it — is being absorbed! She's feeding him, turning her Hyper form into his feast!"
Hermes' aura screamed higher, shaking the battlefield, but Volker only laughed louder, his circuits blazing hotter. His broken form was knitting itself together, his movements sharpening, his presence swelling into something monstrous. Lupus clenched his fists, forcing his battered body upright, and looked between Hermes and Volker with a grim smirk. "She's stronger than I ever dreamed… but Ungar's right. If this keeps up…" He didn't finish the thought, but Narcis, his jaw tight, already knew the truth.
The ground trembled under Volker's steps, the crimson titan rising brighter with every heartbeat, and Ungar's voice cracked like a curse: "Either she halts… or he'll ascend beyond us all."
The Lobster Arrives (The Deus-Exmachima).
Hermes screamed as she tried to push past the siphoning curse of her Hyper form, her aura blazing white-blue like a collapsing star. But it was useless — every surge of light was stolen, every spark devoured by Anton Volker's crimson circuitry. His body pulsed with power, glowing like molten steel ready to shatter the earth itself. The doctor loomed over her, his grin a razor slash across his blood-streaked face. "This is the end, prophetess," he hissed, raising his hand high, red energy coiling like a scythe ready to fall. "I'll break the wolf, then the prophet, and bury your entire dream in this crater!"
Hermes staggered, her body trembling under the strain of her own cursed transformation. She tried to move, but her legs buckled. Volker's hand was about to come down— The sky cracked. A colossal shadow dropped from above, shaking the battlefield. Dust erupted as something massive, gleaming, and utterly bizarre landed between Hermes and Volker. When the smoke cleared, the warriors stared in disbelief.
It was a lobster. A towering, anthropomorphic lobster warrior, his red shell glinting like armor, his physique absurdly muscular, his jaw chiseled, his golden hair styled in a ridiculous pompadour. He stretched his massive claws lazily, looking around with casual disinterest.
Then, with a smirk that could shame the sun, he spoke.
"Your days are over, mama." Volker froze, his circuits buzzing in disbelief. "What… the hell are you supposed to be?" The lobster rolled his shoulders with a loud crack, his voice dripping with bravado. "Name's Lobster Man, baby. And I'm here to pinch reality back into shape." He flexed, muscles bulging absurdly, as if existence itself might split under the weight of his pose. Volker snarled and hurled a storm of crimson blades at him. They shattered harmlessly against Lobster Man's shell. He didn't even blink. Instead, he yawned and began stretching, rotating his arms like he was warming up before a jog.
"Come on now, mama," the lobster drawled, tilting his head. "Is that supposed to hurt?" Volker's eyes narrowed with manic fascination, his grin twitching into something wild. "A reality breaker… untouched by my circuits? Fascinating. You… amuse me." But no matter what he hurled — beams, blades, surges of annihilating energy — Lobster Man didn't flinch. He just kept stretching, loosening his joints, preparing himself like a man about to clock in for work.
Recap…
The battlefield hung in eerie silence. Hermes lay crumpled, her Hyper form fizzling out, Lupus barely stood with Narcis holding him up, and Volker was raising his burning crimson hand to finish Hermes off.
And then he dropped from the sky. A thunderous impact shook the ground, dust shooting up in waves. When it cleared, the shape that stood between Hermes and Volker was not some god or warrior forged from myth — but a lobster. An anthropomorphic lobster with a ridiculous golden pompadour, claws like battering rams, and muscles sculpted like some cosmic parody of Johnny Bravo. Ungar squinted, his single eye twitching. "…What in the nine hells am I looking at?" Zaiyal muttered, stunned, "Is that… a lobster?" Tatu shouted, "No! That's not just a lobster — that's a buff lobster!"
Even Narcis, still working frantically to seal Lupus' wound, couldn't keep the words in. "By the Imams… what is this thing?" Lupus groaned, coughing blood, and forced his eyes open. "He… he called Volker 'mama'…" The lobster adjusted his pompadour with one claw, utterly unbothered by the stunned silence. He smirked, his jaw glinting like carved stone. "Listen up, mama. Your days are done." Volker snarled, circuits blazing. "What kind of mockery is this?! You dare interrupt me?!"
But the lobster held up one claw, silencing him with the coolness of a man swatting away a fly. "Hold up, dadeo. Guy's got to have a theme." With absurd casualness, he reached into his shell and pulled out an iPod Mini. Every soldier on the battlefield stared, speechless, as the lobster scrolled through his playlist with delicate precision. He plugged in a ragged pair of earbuds, popped them into his earholes, and pressed play. The air was filled with the jangling chords of Smile by Avril Lavigne — but not Avril Lavigne's version. No, this was a raucous cover by a Filipino bar band, raw and heartfelt, with slightly off-beat timing that somehow made it more charming.
The lobster bobbed his head to the rhythm, smirk curling wider. "That's the stuff." And then he began to sing along.
His deep Elvis-like voice rumbled absurdly with the melody:
"You know that I'm a crazy bitch I do what I want when I feel like it All I wanna do is lose control Oh, oh
…"
The first claw strike landed squarely into Volker's jaw, snapping his head back with a thunderous crack. Volker staggered, circuits sparking. "Makes it all worthwhile, yeah…" BAM! Another punch to the ribs, timed perfectly with the beat. Volker roared in fury. "God Circuit: Crimson Blades!" A storm of red daggers screamed through the sky. The lobster didn't even flinch. He swayed to the song, the blades bouncing off his shell harmlessly as he sang louder, claws snapping forward with each lyric.
"And I want to tell you, mama, that I'll always be around…" CRASH! His claw smashed Volker's guard apart, sending the doctor sliding backward.
The battlefield was shaking with each impact. The lobster's fists and claws pounded to the beat, turning Volker's genius into a punchline. Desperate, Volker produced a crimson pill, veins of energy writhing around it. "God Circuit: Black Hole Pill!" He crushed it. A black hole tore open behind the lobster, its pull ripping rocks, trees, even corpses toward its maw. Ungar shouted, "He's finished—!" Hermes almost fell in but Ungar stomped the earth with his foot which anchored Hermes into it with a large crater.
But the lobster just smirked, still singing: "And that's why I smile
It's been a while
Since every day and everything has
Felt this right
And now you turn it all around
And suddenly you're all I need
The reason why I-I-I
I smi-i-ile
And then he farted. The sound was like a cannon blast. The force propelled him out of the black hole's pull, flipping him headfirst like a rocket. He smashed into Volker's gut with a sickening crunch. "GUUUUHHHH!" Volker screamed as blood and spittle flew, his circuits flickering violently. He was hurled across the battlefield, smashing into the earth hard enough to split the ground. The lobster landed gracefully, earbuds still dangling, still bobbing his head. He adjusted his pompadour with one claw, voice booming to the chorus:
"You know that I'm a crazy bitch
I do what I want when I feel like it
All I wanna do is lose control
You know that I'm a crazy bitch
I do what I want when I feel like it
All I wanna do is lose control
Volker staggered upright, trembling with rage, his circuits sputtering. "Y-you… monster…"
The lobster advanced, every step in rhythm, every strike a percussion note of the song. He sang between blows, his deep baritone clashing absurdly with the pop-rock lyrics:
"Whenever you smile, mama, I can do anything…" BAM! A claw to the chest.
"You said, Hey
What's your name?
It took one look
And now we're not the same
Yeah, you said, Hey
And since that day
You stole my heart
And you're the one to blame (Yeah)" CRASH! An uppercut sent Volker sprawling into the dirt. Ungar facepalmed, muttering, "This… reality-breaking idiot is making a complete mockery of him." But Lupus, clutching his wound, actually laughed weakly. "Heh… doesn't matter what he is… as long as he's ours." Volker rose again, only to be battered back down. Each attempt at resistance was drowned beneath the lobster's fists and the Avril Lavigne cover blasting across the battlefield.
And as Lobster Man belted out the final chorus, claws raised triumphantly, it was clear to everyone watching: Volker, the feared genius of circuits, had been turned into nothing more than a punchline in someone else's theme song.
Finally the beat down was over, the dust settled and Volker rose to his feed. "You think I'm finished you god-damn animal." The Lobster laughed as the song ended. "You think I'm done?!" The music fizzled out on the iPod Mini. The earbuds dangled loosely as silence fell, broken only by Volker's groans and the hiss of sparking circuits.
The Lobster Man stood over him, rolling his shoulders. His pompadour gleamed under the fractured sky, and a strange stillness settled on the battlefield. For the first time, his smirk softened into something serious. He lifted one claw, pointing it squarely at Volker. His deep voice rumbled, no longer playful — but deadly certain.
"Your evil is out of this world, mama. You've stacked up a lot of bad karma." He cracked his neck, flexed both claws, and his aura ignited — a blazing crimson-gold halo of raw, reality-breaking power that bent the air around him. Even Ungar took a step back, his eyes furrowing. The lobster's eyes narrowed, his voice booming across the crater: "You're gonna pay for that."
The ground shook beneath him as the lobster powered up, steam blasting off his shell, cracks of lightning firing into the sky. Volker, beaten and bloodied, looked up through one swollen eye, his circuits flickering violently. For the first time, the doctor felt it — fear. The Lobster Man's aura blazed around him, molten gold and crimson, cracking the air like shattered glass. Volker coughed blood, one eye swollen shut, but still managed to croak defiantly, "Wh-what… are you?"
The lobster smirked, pompadour gleaming as he tilted his head. His claws flexed with casual menace. "Let me show you… one percent." Volker froze, circuits flaring nervously. "O-one percent of what?" The answer came in an instant. The lobster's body exploded with energy, a roar of power unlike anything the battlefield had ever known. His aura surged upward like a living sun, tearing through the clouds and beyond the sky. The golden-red blaze didn't stop there — it reached higher, threading into the stars themselves. And then… the stars connected. Volker's jaw dropped as lines of light stretched across infinity, mapping constellations that became galaxies, galaxies that chained into superclusters, superclusters that stretched into an endless cosmic web. The lobster's power traced every line, every filament, until the void itself bloomed with an impossible sight: a universe eight hundred billion times larger than the one the reading is likely reading from at the moment, unfolding like a tapestry of endless fire.
The ground quaked violently. Entire mountain ranges cracked. Oceans churned as if bowing to the pressure of his power. Armies on both sides collapsed in terror, unable to comprehend what they were seeing. Volker's circuits sputtered violently, sparks leaping across his skin. His face went pale, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. "No… no, that's— That's not possible…!" The lobster's aura dimmed just enough for him to speak. His voice thundered like the judgment of gods. "This… is one percent."
The earth shattered beneath his legs as he crouched, claws pulling back. Then, with a cosmic boom, he leapt forward. The force of his movement tore the air into ribbons as he rocketed into Volker, claws swinging with reality-breaking weight. For the first time, the lobster wasn't playing. For the first time, this was real. Volker screamed as the lobster's strikes rained down, every blow bending space-time itself, each claw strike a hammer that threatened to erase him from existence. The fight had only just begun.
The ground split open the instant Lobster Man launched forward, a sonic boom rippling across the battlefield. Volker braced, circuits blazing crimson as he screamed, "GOD CIRCUIT: RAGNAROK CORE—!" He never finished. BAM! A claw slammed across his jaw, sending him cartwheeling through the air before he even knew what hit him. Volker's body cracked into a mountain ridge, detonating stone into dust. The Lobster Man was already there. He didn't fly—he simply was, reality bending to keep up with his speed. He appeared above Volker mid-impact, claws raised, and hammered him into the earth like a comet. The crater glowed molten. Volker writhed, coughing blood, his circuits frantically stitching together his shattered frame. "I—I am genius incarnate! You can't—"
CRACK! Lobster Man's fist silenced him again, smashing his face deep into the dirt. The lobster wasn't smiling now. His baritone voice shook the earth. "This is one percent, mama. One. Percent." Volker staggered back up, face bruised, circuits sparking desperately. He fired a dozen beams of annihilation, red lances screaming across the sky. The beams split mountains, tore rivers into steam, carved black scars into the battlefield—
And Lobster Man walked through them. His shell glowed from the heat, his pompadour whipped by the force, but he never slowed. He sang under his breath as he closed the distance, absurdly humming the last verse of Smile, claws snapping with each step. Volker screamed, panic flooding his veins. "STAY BACK!" Lobster Man was suddenly behind him. "Too slow." The next blow crushed Volker's ribs, claws sinking deep, sending him screaming as blood exploded from his mouth. The lobster spun, his backfist shattering the doctor's jaw, then caught him mid-air and slammed him into the ground again, shaking the battlefield like an earthquake. The soldiers watching on both sides couldn't believe what they were seeing. Two titans were clashing, but it wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter.
Ungar muttered low, almost reverent. "He's… dismantling him." Zaiyal swallowed hard. "That lobster's… not even trying." Volker tried again—his circuits screaming, a last desperate surge of power that ripped a hole in the sky, red lightning crashing down from orbit. He poured everything into a single strike, his arm glowing like the heart of a star. Lobster Man caught it with one claw. Effortless. The lobster leaned forward, his voice a growl that froze Volker's blood. "Mama… bad karma always comes home."
He squeezed. The entire arm of Volker's energy shattered into sparks. And then the beating resumed. Fists, claws, knees, headbutts—Volker was driven across the battlefield like a ragdoll, every impact louder than thunder. His circuits couldn't keep up; his body broke faster than it healed. Blood poured, bones cracked, and still the lobster pressed forward. The galaxies above still shimmered, the cosmic web of his aura reminding everyone that this wasn't even his full power. This was just one percent. By the time Volker collapsed again, twitching in the dirt, the battlefield was silent but for his broken gasps. Lobster Man stood over him, pompadour unshaken, his claws dripping red. He flexed slowly, eyes burning gold. "Get up, mama. I'm just warming up."
Lupus shouted: "HE'S JUST WARMING UP??!!" But Volker threw a knife at Hermes, this distracted the Lobster and in that moment Volker had disappeared. "Uh I guess the little guy got away oh well." Our heroes ran over to this new hero, "Who the hell are you?" The Lobster scratched his head: "I don't know where I come from if that's what your asking? But I go by Al-Lobster Harrington."
Imam al-Tayyib's student 'the Fisherman,' joins the battle to save Talus. She battles the zealous knight of Saint Arcan, the Holy Knight Gabriel.
Imam al-Tayyib's student the Fisherman was arriving on the scene of battle. The horizon shimmered with heat and smoke when she arrived. The Fisherman, student of Imam al-Tayyib, strode across the battlefield with her long polearm slung over one shoulder, a net of shining threads coiled at her side. Her cloak snapped in the storm winds kicked up by the titanic duel nearby, and her eyes narrowed as she took in the chaos. She had been trained for years in patience and timing—casting nets in both rivers and the sea taught her that—but even so, her heart raced as the cries of clashing powers reached her ears. Somewhere beyond the dust, Hermes and the others were fighting for their lives.
She stepped onto the broken ground, her boots crunching over shattered stone. Each step was measured, her aura a calm ripple against the raging storm of energies that threatened to swallow everything. She whispered a short prayer to her teacher: "Master, let me be a vessel of clarity in this confusion." In her mind, she pictured the lessons of balance, of bait and catch, of knowing when to let the tide pull and when to strike against it. To her, battle was another kind of fishing—cast carefully, pull decisively.
The air split with a thunderous crack as a pillar of white light flared on the far ridge. The Fisherman recognized Hermes' signature brilliance, blazing in combat. "She's still standing," the warrior girl breathed, clutching her polearm tighter. "Then I'm not too late." Her stride became faster, more determined. The battlefield called to her like a river teeming with unseen currents. She imagined herself as the net, ready to sweep wide and protect those still swimming against the undertow of annihilation.
But what she could not know was that another had already entered the fight. Somewhere amidst the blasts and shockwaves, Al Lobster had arrived, a force of bizarre yet overwhelming strength. His presence, veiled by the carnage and the dust, had gone unnoticed by her—yet every roar and quaking tremor she heard was in part his doing. Still, in her conviction, the Fisherman believed she would be the first to answer Imam al-Tayyib's summons to aid the heroes.
She leapt to a jagged plateau overlooking the battle, raising her weapon high, her silhouette cutting against the bleeding sky. Her voice carried across the chaos like a ringing bell: "Hermes! Wolf King! Stand firm—your ally has come!" The Fisherman's arrival was a beacon of hope, though destiny's net had already been cast, tangled with threads she had yet to see. And below, cloaked in dust and thunder, the Lobster warrior readied himself, his power already shaking the battlefield's foundations. But she was still far away and she was confronted by Kakia.
The Fisherman was nearing the battlefield, her armor glinting faintly under the stormlight, when a ripple in the air halted her advance. A lilting giggle, high and sing-song, cut through the haze. "Oooh, so serious. Marching off to play hero with your friends?" From the rubble of a toppled gate skipped a girl with pink pigtails, her frilly dress swaying as if she were walking through a garden rather than a warzone. Her wide eyes gleamed with malicious delight. This was Kakia, the goddess of chaos, a childlike face masking a storm of malice.
The Fisherman planted her polearm into the ground, ocean-blue sigils rippling beneath her boots like waves. Her gaze was steady, her voice calm. "Stand aside. I've no time for distractions." But Kakia only twirled, arms outstretched, her tone a mocking sing-song: "Dis-trac-tion? Darling, I'm the main event!" Shadows oozed from her fingertips, dark ribbons writhing in the air like snakes. With a clap, she sent them slithering toward the warrior, their tips glowing with toxic violet light.
The Fisherman's stance shifted, fluid as water. With a sweep of her polearm, a tide of shimmering ocean burst outward, colliding with the black ribbons. Steam hissed where water and shadow met, flooding the air with mist. Through the fog, Kakia's laughter echoed, teasing and sharp: "Ooooh, you splash so prettily! Let's see how long your little tide can last." She darted forward with sudden speed, her body twisting unnaturally as bolts of darkness cracked from her hands.
The ocean surged. The Fisherman's net of water spiraled around her, deflecting each strike with the grace of rolling waves. Her counter came swift—a geyser erupting beneath Kakia's feet, knocking the chaos goddess skyward. For a moment, the Fisherman thought she had the upper hand. But midair, Kakia only giggled, flipping upside down and scattering a storm of dark petals that exploded like shrapnel. The impact rattled the earth, forcing the Fisherman to slam her weapon into the ground, raising a tidal shield to absorb the blast. Water roared against the shadow, the clash blinding and deafening.
As the smoke thinned, Kakia landed lightly on a broken column, humming a childish tune. Her pigtails swayed, her smile too wide, eyes shining with chaotic glee. "Not baaad. You're strong enough to be fun." The Fisherman stood below, aura dripping with ocean light, her armor wet and steaming, chest rising with controlled breaths. "I will break your chaos," she declared, tightening her grip on the polearm, "and then I will join my comrades." The tide swelled behind her, waves cresting in answer. The duel had only begun—but already the battlefield itself trembled under the storm of ocean and shadow.
Okirun II's Pro-Human movement and the battle for freedom and the training of Okirun I in his timeline by Ungar.
Okirun II stood before a small crowd gathered in the rain-slicked square of his city. Makeshift banners fluttered overhead, painted with crude brush strokes: "No Deals with the Void!" and "The People Before the Abyss!" The air was thick with frustration, not yet rage, but the potential was there. He raised his fist, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "They drink with the Void at their tables! They break bread with it, smiling while we are left to rot in darkness. And they call this governance?" The crowd roared in response, their voices echoing between the damp concrete towers. He had never been a natural orator, but the visions in his dreams gave him words like fire. Each night that same shape returned—the twisted creature with eyes like black stars—and each morning he woke more convinced that the Void was not just invading the dream-realm but creeping into his timeline's halls of power. He named names now, without hesitation: senators, governors, ministers. Their faces appeared on the projector behind him, flickering in grainy resolution. "These men and women have already signed their souls away. They are not leaders; they are leeches of the abyss!" The projector buzzed, briefly warping, as though something else wanted to peer through.
In the distance, strange graffiti had begun appearing on train stations and alley walls: a black circle with jagged edges, beneath it scrawled "It Watches." No one claimed responsibility, but Okirun II knew it was tied to the creature. Still, he leaned into it. "Even the walls are telling you! You feel it when you close your eyes—you hear it humming in your bones. The politicians say it is nothing. But that is everything." The crowd shifted uneasily, some crossing themselves, others whispering prayers. Fear and anger braided together, just as he wanted. Behind the crowd, lurking on a telephone wire, the Light of Truth (Nur al-Sadiq) watched silently, one foot balanced as though the wind itself carried him. Okirun II couldn't see him, but somehow he felt his presence like a glimmer of clarity in a storm of paranoia. His words became sharper, almost rehearsed by an unseen tutor. "We have five months before the veil seals again. Five months to tear the roots of corruption from their thrones! Five months before the abyss swallows us whole!"
As the rally ended and the crowd dispersed into the neon glow of the city, Okirun II lingered at the podium, his breath ragged. His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number appeared on the cracked screen: "You are not wrong. But you are not ready." For a heartbeat, he swore he saw a shark-like silhouette reflected in the wet pavement at his feet. He closed his eyes, steadying himself. Tomorrow there will be another rally, bigger, louder. And somewhere, in another timeline, Okirun I sat in his armchair, staring blankly at a silent television, that phantom image of Hermes and the Shark-Man replaying in his head, gnawing at him like a toothache he couldn't shake.
The Alternate Universe Scott Greer B and Hermes B train for the upcoming Martial Arts Tournament of the Highschools in Timeline B.
Scott Greer cracked his knuckles, the gym floor of Timeline B's training hall reverberating beneath his heavy boots. Hermes, already in stance, had her blade resting on her shoulder, her golden eyes narrowed in irritation. She had agreed—begrudgingly—to spar with this alternate-universe human, but within minutes she was wondering why she had bothered. "You call that footwork?" Greer jeered, circling her with a wide grin. "Back in my day we ran suicides until our lungs bled. You float around like some ballerina in tights." He ducked as Hermes slashed forward with a flash of steel, her blade grazing the edge of his hair. He didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled and spat to the side. "Cute trick. But a real fighter doesn't waste time with dance moves."
Hermes' nostrils flared. She lunged again, this time pivoting low, her Spirit Blade hissing with contained energy as it connected with Greer's shoulder. But the man twisted, letting the strike slide across him. He wasn't faster—he was simply too stubborn to go down. "Ha! That's the best you've got?" Greer barked, his tone smug, deliberately needling her. "What's next, gonna give me a lecture about honor and cosmic destiny? Save it for the tournament."
With a guttural yell, Hermes unleashed a flurry of strikes, her blade cutting arcs of light across the training hall. Greer blocked with brute strength alone, forearms bruising, palms raw. Every clash rattled the walls, echoing through the empty gym. But instead of respecting her, he leaned into his taunts. "You're trying too hard, sweetheart. Where's that divine touch you keep bragging about? If you can't handle me, those high school kids are gonna mop the floor with you."
Finally, Hermes broke off, her chest heaving, strands of hair sticking to her sweat-damp face. "You infuriate me," she hissed, pointing her blade at him. "You fight like a fool, and yet—" She stopped herself, glaring as if the words were poison. "And yet you don't break." Greer smirked, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "That's right, princess. You can out-speed me, out-magic me, out-cosmic-power me, but you'll never out-stubborn me. And when the tournament bell rings, that's what wins fights."
Hermes clenched her fists, torn between the urge to cut him down where he stood and the faint recognition that he might be right. In the shadows of the hall, the Shark-Man—half-seen, half-not—watched with an inscrutable grin. The tournament was days away, and whether they liked it or not, Greer and Hermes would have to face it side by side.
Ungar alerts Ozzy that the Dream Stone incorporated recently into his body is glowing.
Meanwhile, in the Dreamworld, Ungar's silhouette split and multiplied until the horizon itself shimmered with countless copies of his form. Each stood in a different position, some at the edge of crumbling mountains, others floating across cosmic seas, others still resting cross-legged in caverns of pure thought. Yet they were all the same Ungar, moving through dimensions like threads of a single loom. In the center of every projection, his chest glowed with a deep turquoise light—the Dream Stone. The pulsing radiance looked less like crystal and more like a living star, its rhythm tethered to every world he touched. "I am nowhere, and I am everywhere," Ungar said, his voices overlapping in a chorus of a hundred billion selves. "This stone binds me across the skein of all dimensions. Its breath lets me touch realities that have never known my name."
From behind a drift of soft clouds padded Ozzy, the rabbit-god of this universe. His long ears twitched as though picking up whispers from unseen planes. His eyes, vast pools of violet starlight, narrowed as he gazed at Ungar's impossible multiplicity. "You wear infinity like a mantle," Ozzy said, his tone almost sing-song, but layered with solemn weight. "Yet… there's a wrongness threaded through it. A chord out of tune."
Ungar tilted one head while another self knelt reverently before the rabbit. "What do you mean, Neoplatonic one? The Dream Stone's glow has never faltered."
Ozzy's whiskers shivered. The winds around them hushed as if even the dream itself listened. "It is not the Stone's glow that is troubling me," he whispered, "but its shadow. Somewhere, hidden behind your light, something else is moving. And it does not belong." The infinite Ungars quieted, their eyes burning faint white. For the first time, the chorus of his selves did not speak in unison. Instead, each whispered the same word with a slightly different dread: "Void."