William's massive red eyes burned with fury as they lingered on the space where the Viltrumites had just been, their retreating forms vanishing through the shimmering portal. His chest heaved, his body trembling with raw, unfiltered rage. The weight of their departure, of their escape, pressed down on him like a vice. Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance.
A guttural, primal roar tore from his throat as his mouth opened wide, a sphere of crackling, rage-infused ki coalescing between his fangs. It pulsed, a miniature sun of destruction, its surface writhing with unstable energy. Without a second thought, he unleashed it.
A brilliant beam, thick as a mountain, erupted from his mouth, streaking toward the closing portal like a celestial spear of annihilation.
SNAP!
The portal sealed shut in an instant, the Viltrumites gone.
The beam missed, its target erased in the blink of an eye.
Instead, it careened into the distance, illuminating the void with its hellish glow before detonating.
BOOM!
The explosion was cataclysmic. A shockwave of raw, untamed force rippled outward in all directions, warping space itself. The remnants of the shattered planet trembled under the sheer magnitude of the blast. The surface cracked and fractured, entire landmasses splintering as though they were fragile glass. Gigantic chunks of rock, some the size of continents, were ripped free and sent tumbling into the endless abyss.
The force of the detonation tore through the planet's molten core, sending plumes of fiery magma surging into the void like great geysers of liquid fury. Rivers of lava twisted and coiled in the zero-gravity expanse, forming dazzling yet terrifying arcs of destruction before freezing into jagged, glass-like formations.
A vast crater, vast enough to swallow entire cities, remained in the aftermath of the blast. The edges of the wound smoldered, glowing with residual energy, the very air, or what little remained of it, vibrating with the lingering echoes of William's wrath.
But it wasn't enough.
His fists clenched so hard that his nails dug into his flesh, drawing thin rivulets of blood. His golden-red aura flared wildly, uncontrolled, his body trembling with barely contained fury.
The Viltrumites had fled.
And William would make sure they paid for it.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" William let out a bellow as he noticed a massive fleet of Flaxan's on approach, clearly in an all-or-nothing scenario, as William was a threat to the entire solar system, not to mention the dimension.
Millions of Flaxan vessels ranging from corvettes to fully functional Warships that would put the star destroyers from a certain space opera to shame in terms of scope appeared in the void over the planet William was on and immediately began preparing for bombarding his position on the planet.
Aboard the command ship of the Flaxan armada, a towering, monstrous figure reclined upon a throne of polished obsidian and glowing circuitry. The Flaxan king, a beast of a being draped in ornate yet battle-worn regalia, exuded an aura of absolute power. His sickly yellow eyes flickered with disinterest as he indulged in the pleasures laid before him.
One of his many slaves, a frail, trembling girl, knelt between his legs, her face blank as she performed her degrading duty. Another, a slender woman with shackled wrists, reached up with shaking hands, delicately placing an exotic, glistening fruit between his fanged lips. He bit down, the juice dribbling down his chin, mingling with the deep scars carved into his rough, emerald-hued skin.
He exhaled heavily, his massive chest rising and falling, his pleasure short-lived as his mind drifted back to the irritation that gnawed at his insides. He grasped the girl by the hair, lifting her fluid-stained face into the air before shoving her aside like a discarded toy before leaning forward, his gaze narrowing as he glared at the colossal viewing screen before him.
A single image dominated the massive display, an image that sent a ripple of something unfamiliar crawling up his spine.
A golden titan, wreathed in a corona of light like a living sun, stood amidst the shattered ruins of what was once a proud Flaxan world. The ground beneath him was molten, entire landmasses splintered and adrift, yet he remained, untouched, unbowed. His enormous form radiated power, his mane of wild fur flowing like a storm of living fire. Even through the transmission, the sheer weight of his presence was suffocating.
The Flaxan king sneered, baring his jagged teeth in contempt. This creature, this thing, dared to defy him? Dared to survive?
His massive fingers tightened into a fist against the throne's armrest. No matter. The universe had a way of correcting anomalies.
He gestured lazily, issuing a single command.
"Begin the bombardment."
WHIIRRRR!
Across the void, the hum of death awakened.
The armada stirred as thousands, hundreds of thousands, of cannons roared to life, drinking deep from their ships' energy cores. The darkness of space became a canvas of apocalyptic color, streaks of crimson and violet weaving together in a cataclysmic ballet of destruction. The hulls of the warships gleamed under the glow, casting monstrous, skeletal shadows against the backdrop of the stars.
Inside the control rooms, Flaxan officers barked orders, their hands flying across holographic displays as targeting systems locked onto the golden beast standing alone on the dying world. The very fabric of reality seemed to shudder under the sheer magnitude of firepower amassing in the fleet's heart.
The Flaxan king stood now, stepping forward, his massive form eclipsing the light from the display. He watched, eyes burning with sadistic satisfaction, as the final preparations were completed.
The golden beast still stood, unwavering.
Arrogant.
His sneer widened.
"FIRE."
His command tore through the air like a death sentence.
And the universe obeyed.
BOOOOOOOM!
The void ignited.
Hundreds of thousands of cannons discharged in unison, their combined fury eclipsing the distant stars. Beams of searing plasma, torrents of antimatter, and pulses of concentrated annihilation surged forward like an unstoppable tide.
The battlefield ceased to exist. There was no space, no darkness, no remnants of the shattered planet, only light. A tidal wave of destruction that put even dying suns to shame crashed downward, swallowing the world below in an all-consuming inferno.
The sheer force of the bombardment fractured the very crust of the planet, ripping apart what little remained of its surface. The atmosphere, what scraps had yet clung to the doomed rock, was vaporized instantly. Oceans, mountains, and the very bedrock crumbled to nothing, consumed in the unrelenting surge of raw obliteration.
From afar, it was as if an artificial star had been born, its brilliance so intense that the hulls of even the distant warships groaned under the radiating heat. Space itself twisted, the gravitational pull of so much raw energy distorting the surrounding void.
A slow, predatory grin spread across the Flaxan king's face.
No creature, no being, could survive that.
He turned, stepping away from the display.
It was over.
…Wasn't it?
The void trembled with the aftershocks of annihilation. What was once a thriving world had been reduced to fragmented debris, swirling around the exposed, violently churning core of the planet.
Molten rivers surged and pulsed within the burning heart of the dying celestial body, painting streaks of crimson and gold across the abyss of space. The once-proud Flaxan armada hung in formation, their ships gleaming against the violent backdrop of their victory.
Across the command decks of countless vessels, cheers erupted. The Flaxans, seasoned conquerors, merciless executioners, exhaled in relief.
It was over.
It had to be over.
No being, no matter how powerful, could withstand the detonation of an entire planet. The very idea was absurd. They had come expecting a war that could doom them, only to watch as their might erased the golden titan from existence.
Their king leaned back into his throne, the flicker of smug satisfaction curling his lip. The beast was dead. Their path to conquest lay clear once more.
But then—
Flicker.
A ripple passed through the burning planetary core. The glow wavered, shifting erratically, like a dying flame struggling against an unseen wind.
Silence fell across the Flaxan fleet.
The celebration died in their throats.
The king's brow furrowed as he leaned forward, his gaze locking onto the display, dissecting the anomaly. Something was wrong. The core, burning, unstable, should have simply dissolved into nothingness. And yet, something within it…
A sliver of red, faint at first, barely perceptible, began to snake through the burning sphere.
A trick of the light? A last pulse of energy from the collapsing remains?
And then he saw it.
A shadow within the inferno.
No.
Not a shadow.
Him.
The king's entire body stiffened as his pupils shrank to pinpricks.
There, below the swirling hellfire, standing against the wrath of an entire planet's destruction, was the golden titan.
Still there.
Still standing.
And he was moving.
The red tendrils, sinister, pulsing with unrelenting fury, slithered through the searing plasma, wrapping themselves around the burning core like the limbs of a monstrous god. They coiled, constricted, pulling the dying heart of the planet into an unbreakable grip.
And then the titan's hand closed.
A massive, clawed construct of pure crimson rage manifested in the void, encasing the planetary core within its grasp as if it were nothing more than a mere baseball in his palm.
The void itself seemed to breathe.
And then, the fleet moved.
Weapons systems roared to life across the vast expanse of warships. Every cannon, from the monstrous main batteries to the smallest corvette-mounted turrets, began charging at once.
"WENNNNG!!!"
A deafening hum rolled through the Flaxan fleet as an unfathomable amount of energy surged into their weapons. The gathered power bathed the darkness in deep violet and blinding crimson, drowning out even the distant sun.
The king shot to his feet, his chest heaving with something he hadn't felt in decades, fear.
No.
No mistakes. No hesitation.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!" he bellowed in a voice that shook the halls of his ship.
A solid wall of destruction erupted from the fleet.
"WHOOOOOSH!"
Thousands of beams, lances of star-killing energy, streaked toward the golden beast, converging into a cataclysmic tide. The sheer weight of the incoming attack bent the very fabric of space, warping the void into a swirling maelstrom of death.
And yet, William did not waver.
With the colossal, rage-filled construct still gripping the planetary core, he lifted his free hand and made a single, decisive gesture—
Forward.
The massive red claw surged forth.
The molten core, still seething with its last vestiges of planetary wrath, was hurled directly into the incoming wall of destruction.
For a single, heart-stopping moment, all light, all sound, all movement froze.
And then—
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
Reality shattered.
The impact unleashed a detonation so immense, so apocalyptic, that it put small supernovas to shame.
A flood of energy cascaded outward, sweeping across the battlefield like a cosmic tsunami. The nearest ships were obliterated on impact, their hulls torn asunder like paper in a hurricane. Even the larger warships buckled under the force, their shields struggling, failing, to hold against the onslaught.
The Flaxan king shielded his eyes as his ship rocked violently, alarms shrieking through the command deck. His once-assured expression twisted into raw horror as the energy wave consumed everything in its path.
Amidst the inferno, amidst the chaos, a figure remained.
Still standing.
Still alive.
The golden titan emerged from the destruction, his burning crimson eyes locking onto the fleet like a god passing judgment. His body radiated raw, unrelenting power, his aura crackling with the remnants of the planetary core's fury.
The Flaxan king's throat went dry.
This wasn't a warrior.
This wasn't a conqueror.
This was something far worse.
Something unstoppable.
Something inevitable.
And he was coming for them.
"RAAAAAHHHH!"
The very void trembled as William's massive maw opened, unleashing a cataclysmic blast of energy. A roaring tide of destruction streaked toward the nearest Flaxan vessels, its sheer force bending space around it.
The shields of the warships, designed to withstand planetary sieges, might as well have been made of paper. The beam punched through them with contemptuous ease, boring through thick hull plating like molten steel through ice. Entire sections of the ships vaporized upon impact, their interiors consumed in a blinding explosion of golden-red light.
"BOOOOOM!"
One after another, they detonated in rapid succession, their frames buckling under the sheer magnitude of the blast. The void was illuminated in a chaotic ballet of destruction, shockwaves rippling through the fleet as ruptured warships spun out of control, their crews screaming in terror before being swallowed by the abyss.
And then, he moved.
The golden titan appeared in the very heart of the fleet.
One moment, there was empty space. The next, his massive, godlike form dominated the battlefield, towering over the armada like an unstoppable force of nature. His fur shimmered with an ethereal glow, his sun-like aura warping the very light around him.
For the first time in their conquests, the Flaxans hesitated.
Panic surged through the fleet. Officers bellowed commands in frenzied voices, desperately ordering their ships to realign, to fire, to do something, anything to stop the golden god now standing in their midst.
Engines flared to life. Entire squadrons attempted to wheel around, their massive bulk groaning under the strain of their desperate maneuvers.
But before they could even react—
William moved.
His colossal arms stretched wide, his fingers splaying open.
And then—
BOOOOOOM!
A shockwave erupted from his body, a wave of force so absolute, so incomprehensibly violent, that the surrounding ships were flung outward like leaves caught in a hurricane.
Vessels screamed through the void, colliding into one another in a chaotic chain reaction. The nearest warships crumpled upon impact, their reinforced hulls folding like tin under the sheer kinetic force.
The entire fleet collapsed inward upon itself.
Ship after ship smashed into their allies, triggering a domino effect of destruction. Violent explosions rippled through the battlefield as ruptured fuel cores ignited, turning the once-mighty armada into a cascading inferno of disintegrating metal and fire.
Flaxan soldiers, once the ruthless enforcers of an empire, were now nothing more than debris, their lifeless bodies flung into the void alongside the wreckage of their once-invincible fleet.
The battlefield was no longer a war zone.
It was a graveyard.
And at its center stood William, unstoppable, unchallenged, unbowed.
His burning crimson eyes locked onto the few remaining ships desperately trying to flee. His aura flared, golden tendrils of energy coiling around him like the wrath of a vengeful god.
He wasn't done.
Not yet.