Across the void of space, stars flickered in agony, their eternal glow dimmed by the sheer magnitude of power unleashed. Planets veered from their orbits, entire systems quaked under invisible pressure, and the very foundation of the universe began to fracture. Each collision between Han, Chae-min, and the monstrous being known as Green Python tore rifts in the fabric of reality, as if the cosmos itself could no longer contain the scale of their war.
Fist met fist. Aura clashed with aura. Galaxies blinked out in the wake of their fury.
Han—his sword slicing across dimensions—and Chae-min, wielding divine light that could blind the gods themselves, fought with the desperation only parents could know. But even their combined might—each at Level 70, capable of laying waste to civilizations—was slowly crumbling beneath the unrelenting advance of their foe.
Green Python, the legendary Level 100 martial artist, was not merely powerful—he was evolution made flesh. Each strike was more refined than the last, as if he were adjusting, adapting in real time. His ability allowed him to read and counter his enemies like a book being rewritten with every breath.
Han's breathing grew labored. Chae-min's radiance dimmed.
Still, they stood.
Until the moment they could no longer.
Then, in that final instant—when death seemed certain and hope was but a memory—something stirred.
From the folds of Chae-min's cloak, a soft whimper grew into a cry that split the cosmos.
Their son.
The Level 9 infant, cradled between annihilation and miracle, opened his glowing blue eyes—and the universe trembled.
A storm of energy burst forth, impossibly dense and impossibly ancient. Blue light enveloped his tiny form, lifting him from his mother's embrace as if the very laws of physics bowed before his awakening. The glow intensified, warping the sky, tearing space, as if reality itself was adjusting to the presence of something beyond comprehension.
And then—
> BOOM.
The child's tiny fist, no larger than a curled petal, clenched.
And from that fist, a Level 120 punch was born.
A strike that defied time, fractured dimensions, and shattered the laws of causality.
Green Python never stood a chance.
Caught off-guard by a power that should not exist, his body was obliterated in an instant—his aura snuffed out, his essence hurled across the stars. The nearby assassins, those unlucky enough to be within the blast radius, were reduced to scattered atoms, flung into the abyss of space like dust before a hurricane.
A massive thunderclap echoed through the void, followed by the roar of planets colliding and collapsing. The shockwave rippled across the galaxy, crashing into an untouched planet in the distance—turning it into the unwilling witness of a power born from raw instinct.
The dust settled.
And there, amidst the ruins of the battlefield, the three figures lay—Han, Chae-min, and their sleeping son, now gently resting on the surface of the distant world.
Silence ruled for a moment. A rare, sacred silence.
Han sat up slowly, blood dripping from his lips. Chae-min reached out with trembling hands to cradle their son once more. The baby, serene and peaceful, slept without a care—as if the universe had not just been unmade by his cry.
They stared at him, wide-eyed and breathless.
Not in fear.
But in awe.
> "He's... beyond us," Han whispered, voice hoarse.
> "No..." Chae-min murmured, her eyes glistening. "He's beyond everything."
The stars above, still trembling, bore witness to a truth that would one day echo across all realms:
> This child is not bound by the world. He will remake it.