Q4
Shuten Douji slipped away with characteristic grace, her parting smile suggesting pleasant dreams awaited those wise enough to seek them before the day fully arrived.
Only Shiki remained, her quiet presence beside Saitama as comfortable as silence itself. Together they watched the sun rise over Z-City, the mundane beauty of daybreak a stark contrast to the cosmic complexities they had discussed through the night.
"You know," Saitama said after a comfortable silence, "before all this happened, I used to think being bored was the worst thing about being strong. Turns out having a bunch of legendary heroes living with you is way more complicated."
Shiki's lips curved in a rare genuine smile. "But no longer boring."
"Definitely not boring," he agreed, the faintest hint of contentment visible in his usually impassive features.
---
The following days established new routines within the East Complex. Morning training sessions continued with religious consistency, though they expanded to utilize the considerably more extensive facilities available. Saitama's simple regimen—100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10km run—remained his personal standard, though his Servants incorporated their own specialized techniques alongside his fundamental exercises.
Altera approached training with military precision, focusing on tactical adaptability and strategic applications of strength rather than raw power enhancement. Nightingale combined physical conditioning with medical knowledge, creating exercise regimens optimized for specific physiological outcomes. Nitocris infused her training with spiritual components, her magical energy manifesting in controlled bursts that she was gradually learning to modulate without her usual volume.
Okita's swordsmanship practice became a morning spectacle that occasionally drew other heroes to observe from a respectful distance, her fluid grace making lethal techniques appear like choreographed dance. Shuten Douji approached physical training with surprising dedication beneath her usual sensual languor, revealing the disciplined warrior that existed beneath her hedonistic presentation. And Shiki maintained her own quiet regimen, her movements economical and precise, wasting nothing while accomplishing everything necessary.
Breakfast following these sessions evolved into a strangely domestic ritual, with responsibilities naturally distributing according to talents and preferences. Okita proved unexpectedly skilled with traditional Japanese cuisine, her disciplined precision translating perfectly to culinary arts. Shuten Douji revealed extensive knowledge of exotic flavor combinations, though Nightingale insisted on supervising her ingredient selections after an incident involving "special herbs" that had left Genos's sensors temporarily malfunctioning.
Altera approached meal preparation with tactical efficiency, organizing workspace and ingredients with military precision. Nitocris contributed enthusiastic if occasionally misguided assistance, her "DIVINE INSPIRATIONS" requiring gentle redirection when they involved excessive gold flakes or impractical presentation pyramids. Shiki quietly handled tea preparation, her meticulous attention to temperature and timing producing perfect results without drama or discussion.
Saitama himself contributed primarily through grocery selection, his unparalleled ability to identify sales and discounts ensuring their considerably expanded household remained economically sustainable despite six additional mouths to feed.
It was during one such ordinary breakfast, approximately a week after the Observer incident, that their domestic harmony was interrupted by an unexpected visitor. The complex's security system announced the arrival with clinical precision: "Association Director accessing main entrance. Priority clearance active."
The Servants exchanged glances of varying concern and curiosity. An official visit from Association leadership suggested developments beyond routine hero business.
"Probably about that weird Observer thing," Saitama suggested practically, continuing to eat his breakfast with unhurried appreciation. "Or maybe they want more paperwork filled out."
Before further speculation could develop, the main door opened to admit a distinguished older man in an immaculate suit, his stern features softened somewhat by intelligent eyes that swept the assembled group with careful assessment.
"Saitama," he greeted formally, "and associates. I apologize for the unannounced morning visit."
"We're just having breakfast," Saitama replied simply. "There's extra if you want some."
This straightforward hospitality seemed to momentarily disarm the Director, whose carefully prepared formality faltered in the face of such ordinary normalcy.
"I... thank you, but I've eaten." He composed himself with professional efficiency. "I've come regarding the incident at Facility 37 last week. There have been... developments."
"THE PHARAOH DEMANDS DETAILS OF THESE DEVELOPMENTS!" Nitocris declared, her royal authority only slightly undermined by the rice grain stuck to her cheek.
The Director's eyebrow raised fractionally at her volume, but he continued with admirable composure. "Project Threshold has been officially terminated following your encounter with the extra-dimensional entity. However, our monitoring systems have detected similar energy signatures at multiple locations throughout Z-City."
"Additional boundary compromises," Altera assessed immediately, her tactical mind already processing strategic implications. "Expanding pattern or deliberate proliferation?"
"Uncertain," the Director admitted with refreshing honesty. "Our sensors can detect the anomalies but cannot determine causality. Which is why I'm here." His gaze settled on Saitama with unexpected directness. "Your team appears uniquely qualified to investigate these phenomena, given your... specialized backgrounds."
"You want us to check out more weird dimensional holes?" Saitama translated with characteristic simplicity.
"Essentially, yes. The Association is prepared to classify this as an ongoing S-Class assignment with appropriate compensation and resource allocation."
"Resource allocation?" Nightingale inquired with clinical precision.
"Full access to Association research data, specialized equipment, priority support from technical divisions, and..." the Director hesitated fractionally, "a significant operational budget."
"THE PHARAOH APPROVES OF PROPER RECOGNITION FOR DIVINE SERVICES!" Nitocris declared enthusiastically.
"Tactical support infrastructure would optimize response capabilities," Altera noted with professional interest.
"A warrior requires appropriate tools to face unknown challenges," Okita observed thoughtfully.
"Financial resources do open such interesting possibilities," Shuten Douji purred with suggestive ambiguity.
"Medical supply requisition authority would ensure optimal preparation for extraplanar biological anomalies," Nightingale added with practical assessment.
Throughout this exchange, Shiki remained silent, observing the Director with her penetrating gaze. When she finally spoke, her quiet words carried particular weight.
"You're not telling us everything," she stated rather than asked. "There's more to these 'developments' than additional energy signatures."
The Director's composed expression flickered briefly with surprise before settling into reluctant respect. "Perceptive. Yes, there's more." He placed a small device on the table that projected a holographic map of Z-City, with several locations marked in pulsing red. "These anomalies aren't just dimensional disturbances. They're appearing at locations with significant historical or spiritual importance."
The map rotated slowly, revealing a pattern that might have seemed random to casual observation but contained subtle symmetry when viewed with more careful analysis.
"A ritual configuration," Shiki observed quietly. "Someone is creating a larger working using the city itself as a matrix."
The Director's expression confirmed her assessment without words. "Our mystical consultants reached similar conclusions, though with considerably less certainty. Which is why your expertise is particularly valuable in this situation."
Saitama studied the map with surprising attentiveness. "So someone's making a giant magic circle thing using the whole city? That seems... not good."
"A tremendous understatement," the Director agreed with unexpected candor. "Particularly given the timing relative to your encounter with the entity calling itself 'Observer.' We cannot discount the possibility that its appearance was merely a preliminary assessment before a larger incursion."
"Tactical assault typically follows reconnaissance," Altera confirmed with military precision. "Standard invasion protocol across historical periods and cultures."
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE PATTERNS OF COSMIC INVASION!" Nitocris declared with unusual seriousness beneath her royal bombast. "BARRIERS WEAKEN BEFORE THEY SHATTER!"
"Patient diagnosis often reveals systemic progression rather than isolated symptoms," Nightingale observed clinically. "These manifestations suggest coordinated pathology rather than random occurrence."
"The Shinsengumi understood that small disturbances often precede major upheavals," Okita added thoughtfully. "What appears as isolated incidents may reveal themselves as coordinated campaign when properly contextualized."
"The most dangerous predators sample before they feast," Shuten Douji noted with ancient wisdom beneath her playful tone. "Testing defenses before committing to the kill."
Throughout this increasingly alarming analysis, Saitama maintained his characteristic calm, finishing his breakfast with unhurried appreciation before addressing the increasingly concerned Director.
"So you want us to check out these spots, figure out what's happening, and stop whatever giant magic thing is being set up?"
The Director blinked at this straightforward summation of what had seemed like a complex metaphysical crisis. "That's... essentially correct, yes."
"Okay," Saitama agreed with simple directness. "When do we start?"
Once again, his uncomplicated acceptance seemed to momentarily disarm the Director, who had clearly prepared for more extended negotiation or complex questioning.
"I... as soon as possible would be ideal. The anomalies appear to be increasing in both frequency and intensity."
"After breakfast," Saitama decided practically. "No point rushing out on an empty stomach."
This ordinary consideration in the face of potential cosmic catastrophe created a moment of cognitive dissonance that even the Director's professional composure couldn't entirely hide. Yet there was something reassuring about Saitama's unshakable practicality—a grounding influence amidst metaphysical chaos.
"Of course," the Director agreed, finding himself oddly comforted by this mundane concern. "I'll have transportation prepared for your team within the hour."
As the Director departed to make arrangements, the Servants continued their breakfast with varying degrees of contemplative silence, each processing the implications of this new development through their unique perspectives.
"A coordinated assault using dimensional weaknesses as entry points," Altera analyzed with tactical precision. "Strategic assessment suggests preparation for large-scale invasion rather than isolated incursion."
"Metaphysical contamination across multiple sites creates exponentially increased risk factors," Nightingale observed clinically. "Containment protocols must be established with particular attention to interdimensional pathogen vectors."
"THE PHARAOH'S DIVINE WISDOM RECOGNIZES COSMIC MANIPULATION WHEN IT MANIFESTS!" Nitocris declared with surprising insight beneath her usual bombast. "THE CITY'S VERY FOUNDATIONS ARE BEING PREPARED AS CONDUITS FOR OTHERWORLDLY FORCES!"
"The Shinsengumi faced human enemies with clear intentions," Okita noted thoughtfully. "These forces operate beyond conventional understanding, requiring adaptation of traditional tactical approaches."
"Some predators are patient, building their traps piece by piece before the prey even recognizes danger," Shuten Douji mused with ancient wariness beneath her sensual presentation. "We may be witnessing the early stages of a hunt that spans realities."
Throughout this increasingly concerning analysis, Shiki remained thoughtfully silent, her penetrating gaze focused on the space where the holographic map had been displayed. When she finally spoke, her quiet words carried particular weight.
"The pattern isn't random, but it's not entirely deliberate either," she observed with subtle insight. "It's following existing lines—spiritual fault lines that already existed beneath the city. Someone or something is exploiting natural weaknesses rather than creating artificial ones."
Saitama absorbed these perspectives with surprising attentiveness, his usual disinterest notably absent as he considered the situation's implications. "So we need to check out these spots, see what's happening at each one, and figure out how to stop it from connecting into some giant city-sized magic circle thing?"
"A simplified but essentially accurate tactical assessment," Altera confirmed with professional approval.
"THE PHARAOH SHALL LEND HER DIVINE INSIGHT TO THIS COSMIC INVESTIGATION!" Nitocris declared enthusiastically.
"Medical support will be essential given unknown extraplanar contamination possibilities," Nightingale added with clinical precision.
"A warrior faces unknown challenges with preparation and adaptability," Okita stated with formal certainty.
"Such delightfully dangerous games across dimensional boundaries," Shuten Douji purred with inappropriate but characteristic excitement. "How could one resist participating?"
Shiki offered no verbal commitment, her slight nod conveying all necessary assurance of her participation.
As they prepared for this new mission, gathering equipment and changing into their combat attire, a subtle shift had occurred in their collective dynamic. What had begun as an accidental summoning and reluctant cohabitation had evolved into something approaching a functional team—legendary beings united by common purpose under the unlikely leadership of the strongest hero.
When they gathered in the complex's main hall, each Servant now in their full battle regalia, they formed an impressive sight that would have intimidated even the most confident opponent. Altera's alien armor gleamed with otherworldly light, her massive sword casually held as if it weighed nothing. Nightingale's military medical uniform had been supplemented with combat-optimized equipment that somehow balanced healing capability with unmistakable offensive potential.
Nitocris stood resplendent in her full pharaonic regalia, royal headdress catching the light as her staff pulsed with spiritual energy. Okita's Shinsengumi uniform had been meticulously prepared, her katana at her side and her posture reflecting military precision despite her occasional cough. Shuten Douji had embraced her oni nature fully, horns prominently displayed and her kimono arranged to balance seductive presentation with combat practicality.
Only Shiki remained outwardly unchanged in her red leather jacket and blue kimono, though the knife at her side and the subtle shift in her eyes suggested her own battle readiness required no elaborate display.
At the center of this legendary gathering stood Saitama in his simple yellow jumpsuit and white cape, his unremarkable appearance a striking contrast to the mythic presentation of his Servants. Yet somehow this visual discord only emphasized the strange harmony of their connection—cosmic complexity orbiting straightforward strength like planets around a sun.
"Everyone ready?" Saitama asked with characteristic simplicity.
"Tactical preparations complete," Altera confirmed with military precision.
"Medical supplies optimized for extraplanar contingencies," Nightingale reported clinically.
"THE PHARAOH'S DIVINE MIGHT STANDS READY!" Nitocris declared with enthusiastic certainty.
"A warrior is prepared for whatever challenges await," Okita stated formally.
"I've brought some special refreshments for after our little adventure," Shuten Douji purred, patting a small gourd with suspicious affection.
Shiki offered no verbal confirmation, her readiness evident in her focused stance and alert gaze.
As they departed the East Complex in the Association's provided transport, an unexpected camaraderie permeated their group—legendary beings from across time and mythology united by circumstances none of them had anticipated yet all had somehow embraced.
"First stop is some old shrine in District 4," Saitama noted, reviewing the information on his tablet with casual attention. "Apparently it's been abandoned for decades but started glowing last night."
"Spiritual nexus points often retain metaphysical significance long after their physical structures are neglected," Shiki observed quietly. "The boundaries between worlds naturally thin at such locations."
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE POWER OF SANCTIFIED GROUND!" Nitocris agreed with uncharacteristic moderation in her volume. "DIVINE ENERGY LINGERS WHERE WORSHIP ONCE FOCUSED!"
"Tactical assessment of historical spiritual sites indicates persistent strategic value regardless of current utilization," Altera noted with military precision. "Such locations often serve as natural convergence points for non-standard energy patterns."
"Traditional medical practices recognized certain locations as having inherent healing properties," Nightingale added with clinical interest. "Modern analysis suggests geomagnetic anomalies may contribute to such phenomena."
"The Shinsengumi often observed that abandoned shrines retained a certain... presence," Okita contributed thoughtfully. "As if the boundary between spiritual and physical remained thinner in such places."
"Some appetites transcend mere physical destruction," Shuten Douji mused with ancient wisdom beneath her playful tone. "Spiritual hunger leaves marks that linger for centuries."
As their transport navigated the morning traffic of Z-City, Saitama observed his Servants with quiet attention, noting how their individual perspectives combined to create a comprehensive understanding no single viewpoint could achieve. Their different approaches to the same phenomenon—tactical, medical, spiritual, historical, instinctual, and metaphysical—complemented each other in ways that transformed potential conflict into unexpected harmony.
Perhaps, he reflected with uncharacteristic philosophical depth, this was the real power of having these legendary beings in his life—not their combat capabilities or cosmic significance, but the way they expanded his understanding beyond the simple binaries of strength and weakness that had defined his existence for so long.
The transport slowed as they approached their destination—a dilapidated shrine nestled between modern buildings, its traditional architecture weather-worn and neglected yet still possessing a certain dignified presence despite its state of disrepair.
Even from outside the vehicle, a subtle wrongness emanated from the shrine grounds—a visual distortion like heat haze though the morning was cool, and colors that seemed slightly shifted from their natural spectrum.
"Dimensional boundary compromise detected," Genos reported, his sensors analyzing the anomaly with mechanical precision. "Pattern similar to previous encounters but with 37% higher intensity readings."
"Tactical assessment indicates controlled manifestation rather than random boundary failure," Altera observed as they disembarked, her military mind automatically analyzing threat patterns. "Deliberate application of external force."
"THE PHARAOH SENSES DIVINE ENERGIES BEING CHANNELED AGAINST THEIR PROPER FLOW!" Nitocris declared, her staff glowing in response to the metaphysical disturbance. "SACRED PATHWAYS TWISTED TO UNHOLY PURPOSE!"
"Physiological impacts detectable even from this distance," Nightingale noted clinically, monitoring subtle changes in their biological responses. "Autonomic nervous system displaying stress responses to dimensional irregularities."
"The shrine's natural spiritual properties are being amplified and redirected," Okita observed with warrior's instinct. "Like a river diverted from its natural course to power unfamiliar machinery."
"Something hungry waits beyond that distortion," Shuten Douji added with ancient wariness beneath her playful demeanor. "Patient but eager, testing the boundaries before committing fully."
Throughout these assessments, Shiki remained thoughtfully silent, her eyes shifting color subtly as she perceived aspects of reality invisible to conventional senses. When she finally spoke, her quiet words carried particular significance.
"The boundary isn't just thinning," she stated with calm certainty. "It's being deliberately cut—not clumsily like the Association's experiment, but with precision. Something that understands death at its fundamental level is creating these openings."
This assessment created a moment of profound silence among the gathered Servants, each processing its implications through their unique perspectives.
"Tactical response requirements shift significantly if facing intelligent boundary manipulation rather than random failure," Altera acknowledged with military recalibration.
"Deliberate pathogenic introduction rather than accidental contamination necessitates different containment protocols," Nightingale agreed, her medical mind adjusting to this new paradigm.
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CHAOTIC DISRUPTION AND CALCULATED DESECRATION!" Nitocris declared with surprising insight beneath her royal bombast.
"An enemy who cuts with precision requires different counters than one who strikes with brute force," Okita observed with swordsman's wisdom.
"The most dangerous predators are those who understand their prey's vulnerabilities intimately," Shuten Douji noted with ancient caution beneath her sensual presentation.
Throughout this increasingly concerning analysis, Saitama maintained his characteristic calm, studying the distorted shrine with mild curiosity rather than alarm.
"So," he summarized with simple directness, "something smart is cutting holes between dimensions on purpose, using special spots around the city to make some kind of pattern. And we need to figure out what and why before it finishes."
His straightforward assessment, stripped of metaphysical complexity and cosmic speculation, somehow made the situation seem more manageable despite its extraordinary nature.
"A simplified but essentially accurate tactical assessment," Altera confirmed with professional approval.
"Shall we investigate more closely, Master?" Nightingale inquired, medical supplies ready for whatever they might encounter.
Saitama nodded, his casual confidence a grounding presence amidst cosmic uncertainty. "Let's see what's causing trouble at the old shrine."
As they approached the distorted boundary between worlds, their formation naturally shifted to place Saitama at its center—not because he needed protection, but because he had become the gravitational core around which their extraordinary capabilities orbited. Whatever awaited them beyond conventional reality, they would face it together—legendary beings united by purpose, bound not merely by mystical contract but by something approaching genuine connection.
The dimensional distortion wavered before them like a mirage, reality itself seeming to ripple and fold as they drew nearer. Through the shifting boundary, glimpses of impossible landscapes and writhing shadows beckoned with alien fascination.
Six legendary Servants and one impossible hero stepped forward to meet whatever lay beyond normal understanding, their unlikely fellowship perhaps the strangest and most powerful force that either world had yet witnessed.
"Ready?" Saitama asked simply.
Six voices answered as one: "Ready."## Chapter 12: Dimensional Fissures and Unexpected Connections
As they crossed the threshold of the dimensional distortion, reality itself seemed to stutter and skip like a scratched record. Colors inverted momentarily, gravity wavered indecisively, and sound compressed into a single impossible note before expanding again into normal perception.
When the disorientation passed, they found themselves still at the shrine—yet not quite. The dilapidated structures remained recognizable, but now they were overlaid with ghostly afterimages of what the shrine had once been in its glory days. Translucent torii gates shimmered above their weathered, physical counterparts. Phantom lanterns cast light that illuminated nothing. Spiritual echoes of long-gone worshippers moved silently through the grounds, unaware of the intruders from another reality.
"Temporal overlay," Shiki observed quietly. "We're seeing multiple points in the shrine's existence simultaneously."
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THIS MANIPULATION OF TEMPORAL SANCTITY!" Nitocris whispered—an unprecedented moderation of her usual volume. "THE VEILS BETWEEN PAST AND PRESENT HAVE BEEN DELIBERATELY THINNED!"
"Tactical assessment indicates controlled manipulation rather than random dimensional bleed," Altera noted, her sword materializing in her hand as she scanned for threats. "Strategic purpose evident in the precision of the effect."
"Experiencing multiple temporal states simultaneously presents significant neurological strain risks," Nightingale analyzed clinically, monitoring her companions with professional concern. "Cognitive dissonance can trigger severe psychological responses in unprotected minds."
"The Shinsengumi encountered rumors of places where time folded back upon itself," Okita murmured, her hand resting on her katana's hilt. "Sacred grounds where the past remained eternally present."
"Some places remember what they have been," Shuten Douji mused, her ancient eyes recognizing patterns beyond human understanding. "Though rarely with such... insistence."
Saitama, characteristically, approached the situation with straightforward curiosity. He extended his hand toward a phantom lantern, watching with mild interest as his fingers passed through its ghostly form.
"So it's like shrine ghosts?" he asked, simplifying the metaphysical complexity into manageable terms.
"Not precisely," Shiki corrected gently. "These aren't spirits of the dead, but echoes of time itself—memories held by the location rather than by conscious entities."
As they ventured deeper into the shrine grounds, the temporal distortions intensified. In some spots, the original, pristine shrine dominated their perception, making the present-day decay seem like the ghostly overlay. In others, they glimpsed even earlier iterations—construction scaffolding, foundational ceremonies, even the untouched land before human habitation.
At the center of the shrine complex stood what had once been the main hall of worship. Now reduced to weathered support beams and a partially collapsed roof in the physical world, its temporal echoes revealed a structure of impressive spiritual significance—layers upon layers of devotion and belief that had accumulated over centuries.
And at its heart, visible only when they focused beyond normal perception, a thin crack hovered in midair—a precise slice through reality itself that pulsed with otherworldly energy.
"There," Shiki pointed, her mystic eyes perceiving what others could only partially sense. "The boundary has been cut there, following the natural death line of the shrine's spiritual heart."
"Something created a deliberate incision along the dimensional boundary," Genos analyzed, his sensors straining to process phenomena beyond their design parameters. "Precision work rather than brute force."
As they approached the floating fissure, the air around them grew heavier, charged with potentiality and wrongness. The phantom echoes of worshippers seemed to recognize the intrusion into their sacred space, their translucent forms becoming agitated and distressed despite having no true consciousness.
"They sense the violation," Okita observed quietly. "Even as mere temporal echoes, they recognize the desecration of their sacred space."
"THE PHARAOH CONFIRMS THIS SPIRITUAL DESECRATION!" Nitocris declared, her staff glowing with responsive energy. "DIVINE SANCTITY BROKEN BY UNNATURAL INTRUSION!"
"Tactical assessment indicates the dimensional cut serves as both conduit and collector," Altera noted with military precision. "It draws spiritual energy from the location's temporal layers while simultaneously establishing a stable pathway to another reality."
"The physiological impact increases exponentially with proximity," Nightingale reported clinically, monitoring subtle changes in their biological responses. "Autonomic nervous system showing increasing stress indicators consistent with exposure to non-native dimensional frequencies."
"Something patient waits on the other side," Shuten Douji warned, her playfulness fading beneath ancient instinct. "Gathering strength with each moment this wound remains open."
Throughout these observations, Saitama studied the dimensional fissure with surprising attentiveness, his usual disinterest notably absent. When he finally spoke, his simple question cut through the metaphysical complexity with characteristic directness.
"So how do we close it?"
Six pairs of eyes turned to him with varying expressions of consideration. His straightforward approach to cosmic abnormality served as a grounding influence amidst otherwise overwhelming complexity.
"Conventional metaphysical healing relies on channeling compatible energy to repair boundary damage," Shiki explained quietly. "But this isn't damage—it's a deliberate cut along natural death lines. The normal approach would be ineffective."
"THE PHARAOH SUGGESTS DIVINE INTERVENTION!" Nitocris offered enthusiastically. "SACRED ENERGY COULD POTENTIALLY REALIGN SPIRITUAL PARAMETERS!"
"Tactical countermeasures typically involve neutralizing the originating force before addressing consequential effects," Altera observed pragmatically. "Identifying the entity responsible would optimize response efficiency."
Before further suggestions could be offered, the dimensional fissure pulsed with sudden intensity. The air around it shimmered and distorted as something began pushing through from the other side—not forcing the opening wider, but utilizing its existing parameters with precise intent.
A slender, impossibly elongated limb extended through the fissure—jointed in ways that defied anatomical sense, tipped with elegant fingers that were simultaneously beautiful and disturbing in their alien grace. It probed the air around it with delicate curiosity, testing the new environment with methodical purpose.
"Extraplanar entity initiating physical manifestation," Genos reported unnecessarily, his combat systems activating in response to the potential threat.
The Servants moved with coordinated precision, positioning themselves protectively around Saitama despite knowing he needed no such defense. Altera's sword glowed with contained power, Nightingale's expression sharpened with clinical assessment, and Nitocris raised her staff in preparation for divine intervention.
Okita's hand rested on her katana's hilt with deadly promise, Shuten Douji's playful demeanor gave way to predatory focus, and Shiki watched with calm intensity, her knife held with casual readiness.
"So much concern for one who requires no protection," came a voice that seemed to originate everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. "How curiously devoted you displaced legends have become to your impossible anchor."
The arm withdrew slightly, and through the fissure emerged a face—or something approximating one. Features shifted and realigned as if struggling to settle on a form comprehensible to human perception. Eventually, it stabilized into something hauntingly beautiful yet undeniably alien—symmetrical beyond natural possibility, with eyes that changed color with every blink.
"The Observer," Saitama recognized with mild surprise. "From that lab place."
"Indeed," the entity confirmed, seemingly pleased by the recognition. "Though 'Observer' is merely one aspect of my nature, simplified for your comprehension. I have been watching with increasing interest as events unfold across your reality."
"You're responsible for these dimensional cuts," Shiki stated rather than asked, her penetrating gaze fixed on the partially manifested entity.
"Responsible? No." The Observer's perfect features arranged themselves into an expression of scholarly concern. "I merely... investigate where boundaries grow thin. These precise incisions are the work of another—one who understands the death of realities as intimately as you understand the death of individual entities, little killer."
This revelation created a moment of profound silence among the gathered Servants, each processing its implications through their unique perspectives.
"Strategic assessment indicates coordinated multi-vector assault on dimensional integrity," Altera concluded with military precision. "A tactical approach consistent with advanced invasion methodology."
"Systematic boundary compromises suggesting intentional pathogenic introduction rather than random contamination," Nightingale analyzed clinically. "Consistent with deliberate infection vectors."
"THE PHARAOH RECOGNIZES THE PATTERNS OF COSMIC MANIPULATION!" Nitocris declared with surprising insight beneath her royal bombast. "THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY IS BEING UNRAVELED WITH DELIBERATE PURPOSE!"
"An enemy who strikes from shadow while remaining hidden," Okita observed with warrior's wariness. "A dishonorable but effective strategy."
"Some predators prefer to weaken barriers between territories before fully committing to invasion," Shuten Douji noted with ancient wisdom beneath her playful demeanor. "Patience often precedes catastrophic hunger."
The Observer watched this exchange with evident fascination, its impossible features arranged in an expression of scholarly delight. "How remarkably adaptable you displaced legends have become—analyzing cosmic threats through your limited but diverse perspectives. Most entertaining."
"If you're not causing these cuts, why are you here?" Saitama asked with characteristic directness, cutting through metaphysical complexity to the practical core of the situation.
The Observer's attention focused on him with unsettling intensity. "Curiosity, impossible one. The entity creating these precise incisions shares certain... conceptual similarities with your knife-wielding companion, yet operates on a scale that transcends individual entities. I find the parallel fascinating."
Its gaze shifted to Shiki, who met its alien scrutiny without flinching. "You see the death inherent in living things, little killer. This entity sees the death inherent in realities themselves—the natural endpoints of entire dimensions, the lines along which universal concepts can be severed."
"A Mystic Eyes user operating on a cosmic scale," Shiki concluded quietly, understanding immediately what others could only partially grasp.
"Indeed! Though 'user' implies limitations that don't apply to one of its nature." The Observer's form rippled with what might have been excitement. "It doesn't merely perceive conceptual death—it embodies it. Fascinating, is it not? I simply couldn't resist observing your encounter with its handiwork."
Throughout this exchange, Saitama had been studying the dimensional fissure with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. When he finally spoke, his simple question once again cut through cosmic complexity with practical precision.
"So how do we stop it?"
The Observer's perfect features arranged themselves into an expression of amused surprise. "Stop it? Why would you imagine such a thing possible? Cosmic forces operate beyond conventional intervention parameters."
"We've closed dimensional breaches before," Saitama countered with simple confidence. "This one's just a cut instead of a tear. There's probably a way to fix it."
This straightforward assessment seemed to genuinely intrigue the Observer, whose alien attention focused on Saitama with renewed interest. "Your perception continues to defy conventional limitations, impossible one. Indeed, these precise incisions might theoretically be more amenable to repair than chaotic tears, given sufficient understanding of their fundamental nature."
Its gaze shifted to Shiki once more. "Perhaps one who sees death can also perceive where death ends? Where life reasserts itself? Where severance gives way to connection?"
Shiki's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered this cryptic suggestion. "You're proposing I could see the healing lines as well as the killing lines."
"A fascinating theoretical possibility, is it not?" The Observer's form began to fade slightly at the edges, as if maintaining partial manifestation required increasing effort. "Every concept contains its opposite. Every ending implies a beginning. Perhaps your Mystic Eyes can perceive more than you've yet discovered."
Before further conversation could develop, the dimensional fissure pulsed with sudden intensity. The Observer's partially manifested form destabilized momentarily before stabilizing with visible effort.
"How interesting," it noted with scholarly concern. "It appears my presence has been detected by the one creating these incisions. Most unprecedented—I'm rarely perceived unless I choose to be."
The fissure pulsed again, more violently this time, and the Observer's form began to dissolve from the edges inward. "Consider this encounter both warning and opportunity, impossible one. Whatever comes through these precise cuts will not share my academic interest in your unusual existence."
As it faded further, its final words lingered in the air like an echo: "Until our next observation session, fascinating anomalies. I suspect it shall be sooner rather than later."
With that cryptic farewell, the Observer vanished completely, leaving the dimensional fissure pulsing with increased intensity in its absence. The temporal echoes throughout the shrine grounds grew more agitated, phantom worshippers fleeing in silent panic from some unseen threat.
"Something else is coming through," Shiki warned quietly, her knife held with casual readiness as she studied the pulsing fissure. "Something drawn by our presence—or by the Observer's departure."
"Tactical defensive positioning recommended," Altera advised, her massive sword glowing with contained power as she assessed optimal combat formations. "Unknown entity manifestation imminent."
"THE PHARAOH SHALL PREPARE DIVINE COUNTERMEASURES!" Nitocris declared, her staff pulsing with spiritual energy as she took up position beside Altera.
"Extraplanar entity physiological parameters unpredictable," Nightingale observed clinically, medical supplies ready even as her stance shifted to combat readiness. "Preparation for unprecedented biological threats advised."
"A warrior faces the unknown with calm readiness," Okita stated quietly, her katana half-drawn in preparation for instantaneous response.
"Some predators cannot resist investigating when others encroach on their hunting grounds," Shuten Douji noted with ancient wariness beneath her playful demeanor, her claws lengthening in anticipation.
Throughout these preparations, Saitama watched the dimensional fissure with mild curiosity rather than alarm. "Maybe it's friendly?" he suggested, his characteristic optimism unexpected in the face of cosmic threat.
Before any of his Servants could respond to this unlikely possibility, the fissure expanded violently—not widening in physical dimensions but somehow deepening in conceptual significance. Reality around it seemed to shudder and crack like thin ice under too much weight.
Through this intensified breach emerged... nothing visible. No entity, no limb, no face. Instead, a profound absence manifested—a void of such absolute emptiness that it seemed to draw light, sound, and sensation into itself like a conceptual black hole.
"It's not physically here," Shiki observed with quiet certainty, her mystic eyes perceiving what others could only vaguely sense. "It's projecting its concept into our reality without manifesting its form."
"THE PHARAOH SENSES DIVINE NEGATION!" Nitocris whispered—again breaking her pattern of volume in response to genuine cosmic awe. "THE VERY OPPOSITE OF CREATION AND EXISTENCE!"
"Tactical assessment indicates conceptual attack vector rather than physical manifestation," Altera noted with military precision, though her sword passed harmlessly through the void when she attempted an exploratory strike. "Conventional combat approaches ineffective."
"Physiological impacts detected despite absence of physical contact," Nightingale reported with clinical concern, monitoring their biological responses. "Cellular degradation occurring at microscopic level upon proximity."
"My blade cannot cut what has no form," Okita observed with warrior's frustration, her katana passing through the void without resistance or effect.
"Some hunters need not reveal themselves to begin feeding," Shuten Douji warned, her ancient instincts recognizing the fundamental threat this absence represented. "Their very nature consumes without conscious intent."
As they struggled to comprehend this attack that defied conventional understanding, the void began to expand—not growing larger in physical dimensions, but somehow becoming more absolute in its conceptual emptiness. Temporal echoes caught in its expanding influence simply ceased, not destroyed but utterly negated as if they had never existed.
"It's unmaking rather than destroying," Shiki explained with quiet urgency, her mystic eyes allowing her to perceive what the others could only partially understand. "Erasing the concept of existence itself rather than merely ending physical form."
Throughout this increasingly dire analysis, Saitama observed the void with uncharacteristic attentiveness. When he finally moved, it was with simple directness—he stepped forward and punched the conceptual absence with the same casual force he might use on an ordinary opponent.
What happened next defied conventional understanding. His fist, representing absolute physical power, met the void of absolute conceptual negation. For a breathless moment, these opposing absolutes contested in perfect stalemate—unstoppable force meeting immovable absence.
Then, improbably, Saitama's simple physical action somehow affected the conceptual void. The absence shuddered and contracted slightly, as if even its fundamental nature could not entirely negate the paradox of Saitama's impossible strength.
"He's pushing it back," Shiki observed with quiet amazement. "His absolute breaking point is countering its absolute erasure."
Encouraged by this unexpected effectiveness, Saitama delivered another casual punch—and another. Each impact forced the void to contract further, driving it back toward the dimensional fissure from which it had emerged.
"THE PHARAOH WITNESSES THE IMPOSSIBLE COUNTERING THE INCONCEIVABLE!" Nitocris declared, her awe momentarily overriding her usual royal dignity.
"Tactical analysis fails to explain observed outcome," Altera acknowledged with rare uncertainty. "Conventional strategic parameters do not account for conceptual combat effectiveness."
"His physiological capabilities transcend fundamental physical limitations," Nightingale observed clinically, though even her scientific detachment couldn't entirely hide her amazement. "Allowing interaction with non-standard existential phenomena."
"A warrior recognizes when to step aside for superior technique," Okita stated with humble recognition of Saitama's unique effectiveness.
"Some predators encounter prey they cannot consume," Shuten Douji noted with ancient wisdom beneath her playful tone. "Learning harsh lessons about limitations they thought they didn't possess."
With one final, casual punch, Saitama drove the conceptual void completely back through the dimensional fissure. The breach itself shuddered violently at this forced expulsion, its edges becoming unstable as whatever entity controlled it from the other side struggled to maintain its integrity.
"It's weakening," Shiki observed, her mystic eyes tracking changes invisible to conventional perception. "The connection is destabilizing without its anchoring absence."
"NOW, WHILE THE COSMIC WOUND FALTERS!" Nitocris urged, raising her staff with unprecedented strategic insight. "THE PHARAOH SHALL CHANNEL DIVINE ESSENCE TO COUNTER ITS UNMAKING NATURE!"
Without waiting for formal command, the Servants moved with coordinated purpose—each contributing their unique capabilities to Saitama's unexpected breakthrough. Nitocris directed spiritual energy from her staff into the weakened fissure, not attacking but offering alternative substance to replace the void's emptiness.
Altera positioned herself with tactical precision, her sword serving not as weapon but as conduit for her inherent connection to cosmic forces beyond human understanding. Nightingale applied her conceptual healing abilities—originally meant for physical wounds but adaptable to this dimensional injury through sheer force of her legend's essence.
Okita moved with swordsman's precision, not cutting but tracing the edges of the fissure with her blade, somehow reinforcing reality's integrity through the purity of her disciplined movement. Shuten Douji contributed her own nature as a being of myth and substance, her very existence a counterpoint to the void's absolute absence.
And at the center of this coordinated effort stood Shiki, her mystic eyes perceiving what the Observer had hinted at—not just the lines of death and severance, but their opposite: the potential for reconnection, for healing, for making whole what had been cut apart.
With delicate precision, she traced her knife along invisible lines that represented not death but renewal, not ending but continuation. As she did so, the edges of the dimensional fissure began to draw together, reality reconnecting with itself like living tissue healing a surgical incision.
Throughout this metaphysical surgery, Saitama stood ready—his simple physical power the ultimate contingency should the void attempt to return. Yet his expression reflected something beyond his usual battle boredom or casual disinterest. He watched his Servants work with what might almost be described as pride—an unfamiliar but not unwelcome emotion flickering briefly across his typically impassive features.
With a final, barely audible sigh, the dimensional fissure closed completely. The temporal echoes throughout the shrine grounds gradually stabilized, phantom worshippers calming as the spiritual violation was mended. Reality reasserted itself with gentle insistence, the overlapping timeframes separating back into their proper sequences rather than chaotic simultaneity.
For several long moments, silence reigned as they all processed what had just transpired. Then Saitama, with characteristic understated practicality, broke the tension.
"So... one down, several more to go?"
This simple summarization of their cosmic victory created a moment of startled amusement among the Servants. Nitocris's dignified demeanor cracked into something approaching a normal smile, while Altera's perpetual tactical seriousness softened into subtle appreciation of his directness.
Nightingale's clinical detachment gave way to a brief but genuine expression of shared accomplishment, and Okita's formal discipline relaxed into respectful camaraderie. Even Shuten Douji's calculated playfulness shifted toward more genuine warmth as she regarded their unusual Master.
Most surprising was Shiki's reaction—a small but unmistakable smile touching her usually solemn features, her quiet voice holding a note of something approaching affection as she replied.
"Yes. One down. We should locate the next fissure before whatever entity is creating them realizes we've closed this one."
As they gathered themselves to depart, a subtle shift had occurred in their collective dynamic. What had begun as accidental summoning and reluctant cohabitation, then evolved into functional teamwork, had now transformed into something deeper—a genuine fellowship forged through shared purpose and mutual respect.
They were no longer merely Master and Servants bound by magical contract, but companions united by choice and common cause. Each recognized in the others qualities worth respecting, capabilities worth admiring, and perspectives worth considering.
And at the center of this extraordinary fellowship stood Saitama—still outwardly unchanged in his simple yellow jumpsuit and perpetually neutral expression, yet inwardly experiencing something he had thought lost forever: the satisfaction of genuine challenge, not physical but social and emotional, as he navigated relationships more complex and rewarding than any he had known before.
As they exited the shrine grounds, returning to conventional reality where their transport awaited, Saitama paused momentarily to look back at the now-peaceful site. The dimensional wound had been healed, the temporal echoes had settled, and whatever cosmic threat had attempted to manifest had been driven back to its own reality.
One small victory against forces beyond normal comprehension—achieved not through his overwhelming physical power alone, but through the unique harmony he had somehow created among extraordinary beings who had no reason to cooperate yet had found purpose in their unexpected fellowship.
"Good job, everyone," he said simply, his understated praise carrying more significance for its rarity and sincerity.
Six legendary Servants accepted this modest acknowledgment with varying expressions of appreciation—from Nitocris's beaming pride to Altera's dignified nod, from Nightingale's clinical satisfaction to Okita's formal bow, from Shuten Douji's pleased smile to Shiki's quiet acknowledgment.
In that moment of shared accomplishment, something unspoken yet profoundly significant passed between them—a recognition that whatever cosmic forces had brought them together, they had transformed obligatory magical contract into genuine connection through their own choices and actions.
As they boarded the transport to continue their mission, each carried this unspoken understanding—that they were now bound not merely by supernatural compulsion or convenient alliance, but by something approaching genuine fellowship. The strongest hero and his legendary Servants had become something neither had anticipated but both had somehow needed: companions on a journey none of them had expected but all of them had embraced.
The transport pulled away from the shrine, carrying them toward the next dimensional breach in their citywide mission. Whatever cosmic entity awaited them, whatever forces beyond normal comprehension threatened their reality, they would face it as they had faced the void—together, each contributing their unique strengths to a whole that somehow exceeded the sum of its extraordinary parts.
And Saitama, gazing out the window at the city passing by, found himself experiencing an unfamiliar but not unwelcome emotion: anticipation. Not the desperate hope for worthy opposition that had driven him in his early hero days, but something more complex and ultimately more satisfying—curiosity about what challenges awaited and how his unusual companions would rise to meet them.