The two weeks passed faster than Marcus had expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant less time to stress about the upcoming meeting with the God of Destruction, and a curse because it meant less time to prepare for what might be the most dangerous encounter of his new life.
Not that any amount of preparation would really help.
If Beerus decided to destroy him, there was probably nothing Marcus could do to stop it. The God of Destruction was one of the most powerful beings in the Dragon Ball multiverse, a deity whose very existence was tied to the fundamental forces of creation and destruction. Marcus might be Lord Boros, might possess power beyond anything most mortals could comprehend, but he was still fundamentally a mortal facing a god.
The odds were not in his favor.
But then again, Marcus had already died once, and that had turned out better than expected. Maybe his luck would hold.
The journey to Beerus's planet took approximately six hours, thanks to the advanced propulsion systems of Boros's flagship. Marcus spent most of that time staring at the pillow, which had been placed in a specially designed container to protect it during transport. It sat on a velvet cushion inside a transparent case, looking for all the world like a museum exhibit rather than a bribe for a temperamental cat god.
It really was an exceptional pillow.
Marcus had tested it several more times over the past two weeks, and each time he had been impressed by its quality. The Somnians had truly been masters of their craft, creating a sleeping accessory that seemed to adapt to the user's preferences, becoming softer or firmer depending on what was needed, warming or cooling to maintain the perfect temperature, somehow knowing exactly how to position itself to provide optimal neck support.
If this pillow did not satisfy Beerus, nothing would.
"My lord," Nappa said, appearing at the entrance to Marcus's chambers. "We are approaching Lord Beerus's planet. Shall I signal our arrival?"
Marcus stood from his throne and looked out the viewport at the approaching world. Beerus's planet was small by most standards, barely larger than a moon, but it radiated a distinctive energy that Marcus could feel even through the ship's hull. It was the energy of destruction, of endings, of the fundamental force that balanced creation throughout the universe.
It was also, according to the intelligence reports, home to some of the best food in the known cosmos.
Priorities.
"Signal them," Marcus said. "And have the pillow prepared for transport. I will deliver it personally."
"Yes, my lord."
The landing was uneventful, the ship setting down on a platform that seemed to have materialized specifically for their arrival. Marcus descended the boarding ramp with the pillow case in hand, Nappa following a respectful distance behind, and found Whis waiting for them at the bottom.
"Lord Boros," the Angel said, his perpetual smile firmly in place. "How wonderful to see you again. I trust your journey was pleasant?"
"Pleasant enough," Marcus replied. "I have brought what Lord Beerus requested."
Whis's eyes lit up as he saw the container in Marcus's hands. "Oh my, is that the legendary Somnian Emperor's Pillow? I had heard rumors of its existence, but I never thought I would actually see it. Lord Beerus will be most pleased."
"That is my hope."
Whis led them through the grounds of Beerus's home, a sprawling estate that seemed to exist in defiance of normal physics. Trees grew at impossible angles, waterfalls flowed upward, and the sky above was a constantly shifting tapestry of colors that hurt to look at directly. It was beautiful in a way that was distinctly alien, a place that had been shaped by beings who did not think the way mortals did.
Marcus found it oddly comforting.
He was an alien himself now, after all.
They found Beerus in what appeared to be a dining room, though the table was sized for beings much larger than the relatively small God of Destruction. Beerus was seated at one end, surrounded by platters of food that ranged from the recognizable to the completely bizarre, and he looked up with an expression of barely concealed eagerness as they entered.
"Finally!" Beerus exclaimed, pushing back from the table and floating over to where Marcus stood. "Two weeks! Do you have any idea how long two weeks feels when you're waiting for the perfect pillow?!"
"I imagine it feels like two weeks," Marcus said dryly.
Beerus stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Ha! You really don't fear anything, do you? Most mortals would be groveling and apologizing for making me wait. But you... you just stand there and make jokes."
"I brought your pillow," Marcus said, holding up the container. "As promised."
The God of Destruction's attention immediately snapped to the case, his cat-like eyes widening with anticipation. He snatched it from Marcus's hands with a speed that would have been invisible to lesser beings, tearing open the container and pulling out the pillow within.
For a long moment, Beerus simply stared at it.
Then he hugged it.
He actually HUGGED the pillow, pressing it against his face and making a sound that could only be described as a purr of pure contentment. It was, Marcus had to admit, one of the stranger things he had witnessed in either of his lives.
"Oh," Beerus breathed, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Oh, this is... this is PERFECT. It's so soft. It's so comfortable. I could sleep on this for a thousand years."
"I am pleased it meets your expectations," Marcus said.
Beerus looked up from the pillow, his expression one of genuine gratitude—an emotion that Marcus suspected was extremely rare for the God of Destruction.
"You did good, Boros. Really good. I wasn't sure if you could actually find it, but you delivered." Beerus paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Which makes me curious. A being as powerful as you, going to all this trouble just to satisfy a request from me. Why?"
Marcus considered the question carefully.
The honest answer was that he had been terrified of what Beerus might do if he failed, that he had spent the past month in a state of low-grade panic about the possibility of facing the God of Destruction's wrath. But that was not an answer that Lord Boros would give. Lord Boros did not fear anyone, did not grovel, did not admit weakness.
So Marcus gave a different answer.
"Because you asked," he said simply. "And because I was curious to see if such a pillow actually existed. It was... an interesting challenge."
Beerus studied him for a long moment, those divine eyes searching for something that Marcus could not identify.
"You know," the God of Destruction said slowly, "when I first met you, I thought you were just another arrogant mortal who didn't know his place. The universe is full of beings who think they're powerful, who strut around and make demands and act like they're invincible. Most of them are pathetic. I could destroy them with a thought."
Marcus said nothing.
"But you're different," Beerus continued. "I sensed it when we first met, and I sense it even more now. There's something about you, Boros. Something that doesn't fit the normal patterns. Your power is... unusual. It doesn't feel like anything I've encountered before."
"I have lived a very long time," Marcus said, which was technically true from Boros's perspective if not his own. "I have pushed my abilities beyond what most beings consider possible."
"Hmm." Beerus set the pillow down carefully—reverently, even—and crossed his arms, his tail swishing behind him. "Tell me, Boros. Have you ever fought a god?"
Marcus felt his single eye widen slightly. "No. I have not had that... opportunity."
"Would you like to?"
The question hung in the air between them, loaded with implications that Marcus could not fully parse. Was this a threat? A challenge? A genuine offer?
"Are you asking me to spar with you, Lord Beerus?"
The God of Destruction grinned, and it was the grin of a predator who had finally found prey worth hunting.
"I am. You intrigue me, Boros. Your power is like nothing I've ever sensed—it's deep, deeper than I can measure, like an abyss that goes on forever. I want to see what you can do. I want to test myself against you."
Marcus's heart—hearts, plural, he had to remember—began to pound in his chest.
A sparring match.
With the God of Destruction.
The rational part of his mind, the part that was still Marcus Chen, screamed that this was a terrible idea. Beerus was a god. He could destroy galaxies with a thought, erase existence itself with a wave of his hand. Fighting him was suicide, pure and simple.
But another part of him—the part that was Lord Boros, that had been building and growing since his reincarnation—felt something else entirely.
Excitement.
This was what Boros had been searching for his entire existence. A worthy opponent. A being who could actually challenge him, who could push him to his limits, who could give him the fight he had always craved. For millennia, Boros had traveled the stars looking for someone strong enough to face him, and he had never found them.
Until now.
"I accept," Marcus heard himself say, and he was surprised by how steady his voice sounded. "But I have a condition."
Beerus's eyes narrowed. "Another condition? You're very demanding for a mortal."
"If we are to spar, I want to fight seriously. Not at my sealed level, not holding back to avoid collateral damage. I want to show you what I am truly capable of."
The God of Destruction's grin widened. "Oh? And what exactly are you capable of?"
Marcus reached up and placed his hands on the clasps of his armor, the same motion he had performed two weeks ago in the arena on Planet Vegeta.
"I have two forms beyond my sealed state," he said. "The first is what I call my Released Form—my true appearance, the form I take when I remove this armor and let my power flow freely. The second is Meteoric Burst, my ultimate form, which pushes my abilities to their absolute limit at the cost of my stamina and physical integrity."
Beerus's ears perked up with interest. "Two forms? Transformations that increase your power?"
"Yes. In my Released Form, my strength, speed, and regeneration are all enhanced to levels far beyond my sealed state. In Meteoric Burst..." Marcus paused, accessing his memories, remembering what Boros had been capable of at his peak. "In Meteoric Burst, I become something that transcends normal understanding. My speed alone was sufficient to send an opponent from the surface of a planet to its moon in a matter of seconds."
The God of Destruction was silent for a long moment, processing this information.
"Show me," he said finally. "Show me your Released Form. Let's see what you've got."
Marcus nodded slowly.
This was it.
The moment of truth.
He had taken off his armor once before, on Planet Vegeta, but that had been for only a second—a brief flash of power designed to intimidate, not a sustained transformation. What he was about to do was different. He was about to fully transform into his Released Form, to become something that was not quite Lord Boros as the Saiyans knew him but was closer to his true nature.
He was about to show a god what he was capable of.
"You may want to step back," Marcus said to Whis, who was watching the proceedings with his characteristic serene expression. "This might be... intense."
Whis smiled and floated backward, positioning himself at a safe distance. "Oh, don't worry about me. I've seen Lord Beerus throw tantrums that destroyed solar systems. I'm sure I can handle whatever you're about to do."
Marcus took a deep breath.
And then he removed his armor.
The transformation was not instantaneous like it had been in the arena. This time, Marcus let it happen slowly, let himself FEEL every stage of the process as his body shifted from its sealed state to its true form.
The first thing that changed was his skin.
The purple color that had defined his appearance since his reincarnation began to darken, shifting through shades of violet and indigo until it settled on a deep navy blue that was almost black. As the color changed, lines began to appear across his body—crack-like markings that glowed with a turquoise light, visible energy seeping through his skin like magma through volcanic rock.
His muscles came next.
Marcus could feel them growing, swelling, his physique expanding as power that had been compressed and contained was finally allowed to express itself. His shoulders broadened, his arms thickened, his chest expanded until he was significantly larger than he had been moments before. Spiky plates emerged from his body, bony protrusions that covered his shoulders and back, and he could feel his spine shifting, the tissue around it becoming exposed as his body reconfigured itself for maximum power output.
His hair changed as well, the pinkish-white strands that had flowed down his back now spiking upward, becoming darker and more aggressive in their arrangement.
And then came the eye.
Marcus felt it forming in his chest, a second visual organ that pushed its way through his transformed flesh until it sat in the center of his torso, a yellow eye that moved in perfect synchronization with his original eye—which had itself changed, shifting from its previous coloration to a yellowish-green that matched his new form.
Two eyes now.
Two perspectives on reality.
Twice the awareness.
The transformation was complete.
Marcus looked at his hands—larger now, more powerful, covered in those glowing turquoise lines—and felt the difference immediately. The power that he had sensed lurking beneath the surface since his reincarnation was now at his fingertips, vast and terrible and utterly intoxicating. He could feel it coursing through every cell of his body, begging to be released, demanding expression.
This was his Released Form.
This was what Lord Boros truly looked like.
And it was MAGNIFICENT.
Beerus was staring at him with an expression that was difficult to read—a mixture of surprise, interest, and something that might have been concern.
"Well," the God of Destruction said slowly. "That's... certainly something."
"This is my true form," Marcus said, and his voice was deeper now, resonant with power that vibrated through the air. "This is what I become when I stop holding back."
"Your power..." Beerus narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to measure what he was sensing. "It's increased significantly. Much more than I would have expected from a simple transformation."
"The armor does not merely contain my power," Marcus explained. "It suppresses it, compresses it, keeps it locked away so that I can exist among lesser beings without accidentally destroying them. When I remove it, all of that compressed energy is released at once."
"I see." Beerus's tail was swishing behind him with increasing agitation, a sign that the God of Destruction was getting excited. "And you said this isn't even your final form? There's something beyond this?"
"Meteoric Burst," Marcus confirmed. "But that form burns through my life force at an accelerated rate. I would prefer not to use it unless absolutely necessary."
"Fair enough." Beerus floated back and assumed a fighting stance, his own power beginning to rise in response to Marcus's transformation. "Let's see what you can do with this form first. Show me what the Dominator of the Universe is capable of."
Marcus felt his lips pull back in a grin that showed far too many teeth.
Finally.
FINALLY.
A worthy opponent.
A being who could actually challenge him, who could push him to his limits, who could give him the fight that Boros had been craving for millennia.
All the doubts, all the fears, all the worries that had plagued Marcus since his reincarnation fell away in the face of this singular opportunity. He was not Marcus Chen anymore, not really. He was Lord Boros, the Dominator of the Universe, and he was about to fight a god.
"Very well," he said. "Let us begin."
They moved at the same instant.
To anyone watching—and Whis was watching, his expression one of genuine fascination—the two combatants simply vanished, their movements too fast to track even for divine eyes. The only evidence of their clash was the destruction it left behind: craters appearing in the ground, shockwaves rippling outward, reality itself seeming to shudder under the force of their exchange.
Marcus was moving faster than he had ever moved before.
In his sealed form, he had been quick—faster than any Saiyan, faster than anything he had encountered in this universe. But in his Released Form, that speed was multiplied exponentially. He was a blur, a streak of navy blue and turquoise light that cut through the air like a blade, his movements generating so much heat that the atmosphere around him began to ignite.
Beerus matched him.
The God of Destruction was everything the legends said and more, his power evident in every movement, every attack, every casual deflection of Marcus's strikes. He was ancient in a way that Marcus's borrowed memories could barely comprehend, a being who had been honing his combat skills since before most civilizations had been born. His technique was flawless, his reactions instantaneous, his power seemingly limitless.
And yet...
Marcus was keeping up.
He could not quite believe it himself, but he was actually KEEPING UP with the God of Destruction. His attacks were landing, or at least being blocked rather than ignored. His defenses were holding, or at least forcing Beerus to put in actual effort. They were fighting on something approaching equal terms.
It was exhilarating.
It was terrifying.
It was EXACTLY what Boros had always wanted.
They exchanged blows for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, their battle ranging across the entire surface of Beerus's small planet. Mountains crumbled beneath the force of their clash. Lakes evaporated from the heat of their movements. The sky itself seemed to crack and splinter as two titans of power struggled for dominance.
Marcus took a punch to the face that would have obliterated a planet. He regenerated the damage instantly, his Released Form's enhanced healing ability knitting torn flesh and shattered bone back together in a heartbeat. He retaliated with a kick that sent Beerus flying through a forest, toppling ancient trees like dominoes.
Beerus emerged from the destruction laughing.
"Not bad!" the God of Destruction called out, his voice carrying across the devastated landscape. "Not bad at all! You're the first mortal in millions of years who's actually made me work for it!"
Marcus felt his chest eye—the yellow orb that had formed during his transformation—pulse with energy.
"I'm just getting started," he said.
He raised one hand and pointed it at Beerus, and the eye in his chest began to glow brighter. This was one of the abilities unique to his Released Form: the ability to project energy directly from his chest eye, channeling his power into devastating ranged attacks.
A beam of turquoise light erupted from his chest, screaming across the distance between them with enough force to shatter dimensions. Beerus crossed his arms in front of him and took the attack head-on, his divine energy flaring as he deflected the beam into the sky, where it continued on into space and probably destroyed several unfortunate asteroids.
"Energy projection too?" Beerus sounded genuinely impressed. "You're full of surprises, Boros."
"I told you," Marcus said, already moving again, closing the distance between them for another exchange. "I have been refining my abilities for a very long time."
The fight continued.
It was the greatest battle of Marcus's existence—both existences, really, since his previous life had contained nothing even remotely comparable. Every exchange pushed him to his limits, every moment required absolute focus, every second was a dance between destruction and survival.
And he was LOVING it.
This was what it meant to be Lord Boros. This was the purpose he had been created for—not the conquest of civilizations, not the domination of lesser beings, but THIS. The pure, distilled essence of combat at its highest level. The meeting of two powers that could reshape reality with their struggle.
Eventually, inevitably, they reached a stalemate.
Marcus and Beerus floated across from each other in the ruins of what had once been a beautiful garden, both breathing heavily—or at least simulating the appearance of exertion, since neither of them technically needed to breathe. The planet around them was devastated, its surface transformed into a wasteland of craters and destruction.
"I have to admit," Beerus said, wiping a trickle of something that might have been blood from the corner of his mouth, "I underestimated you. When we first met, I knew you were powerful, but I didn't realize just HOW powerful."
"The feeling is mutual," Marcus admitted. "You are everything the legends say and more, Lord Beerus."
"Flattery will get you nowhere." But the God of Destruction was smiling as he said it. "So tell me, Boros. That final form you mentioned. Meteoric Burst. How much stronger is it than this?"
Marcus hesitated.
He knew the answer to that question, had accessed his memories to understand exactly what Meteoric Burst was capable of. In that form, his already enhanced abilities were pushed even further, his speed increasing to the point where he became little more than a streak of light, his strength amplifying to levels that defied comprehension. A single kick in Meteoric Burst had been enough to send Saitama to the moon at near light speed.
But using it came at a cost.
Meteoric Burst burned through his life force, damaged his body even as it enhanced his power. It was a form of mutual destruction, trading his own longevity for a temporary boost in strength.
And if he used it against Beerus...
"Significantly stronger," Marcus said finally. "But also significantly more dangerous. To myself as much as to my opponent."
Beerus nodded slowly. "A berserker form. I've seen similar techniques before. They're powerful, but risky."
"Yes."
"Then we won't push you to use it today." Beerus relaxed his fighting stance, his power level dropping back to something approaching normal. "This was... fun, Boros. More fun than I've had in a very long time."
Marcus allowed himself to relax as well, though he did not immediately transform back. The Released Form felt natural, comfortable, like this was who he was meant to be rather than the sealed version that he presented to the world.
"I agree," he said. "It has been millennia since I faced an opponent who could truly challenge me."
"The universe can be a lonely place when you're at the top," Beerus agreed. "Everyone's either too weak to fight or too scared to try."
"Indeed."
They floated in companionable silence for a moment, two beings of immense power who had found something rare and precious: a peer.
"You know," Beerus said eventually, "I don't usually say this to mortals. Mostly because most mortals are annoying and I want to destroy them. But you... you're alright, Boros. You're strange as hell, and your power doesn't make any sense, and I still don't fully trust you. But you're alright."
Coming from the God of Destruction, that was practically a declaration of friendship.
"I appreciate the sentiment," Marcus said. "And the pillow?"
Beerus's expression softened. "The pillow is perfect. Best sleep I've had in centuries. So consider our deal complete. I won't be destroying your territory anytime soon."
"That is... a relief."
"But!" Beerus held up a finger. "I want a rematch. Sometime in the future, when you've had a chance to get even stronger. I want to fight you again, Boros. I want to see if you can reach even greater heights."
Marcus felt something stir in his chest—not quite emotion, but something close to it. Pride, perhaps. Or anticipation.
"It would be my honor," he said.
Beerus grinned. "Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to blow up something important."
Marcus transformed back into his sealed form, feeling the armor materialize around him once more as his power compressed itself back into containment. The Released Form faded, the navy blue skin returning to purple, the second eye disappearing, the spiky plates and exposed tissue smoothing back into his normal appearance.
He was Lord Boros again.
But something had changed.
He had fought a god and survived. He had traded blows with one of the most powerful beings in the multiverse and held his own. He had proven, to himself as much as to anyone else, that his power was real, that his place in this universe was earned.
He was not just wearing Boros's body anymore.
He WAS Boros.
And he was ready to see what else this new life had to offer.
"Thank you for the match, Lord Beerus," Marcus said, bowing his head slightly. "I look forward to our next encounter."
"Yeah, yeah." Beerus waved a dismissive hand. "Just make sure you bring more pillows next time. And maybe some food. Whis has been going on about this thing called 'pudding' that I haven't tried yet."
Marcus allowed himself a small smile. "I will see what I can arrange."
He turned and walked back toward his ship, Nappa hurrying to keep up beside him. The young Saiyan was pale and trembling, clearly having witnessed at least some of the battle and been appropriately traumatized by it.
"My lord," Nappa whispered as they boarded the ship. "What... what WAS that? The sky was on fire. The entire planet was shaking. I've never seen anything like it."
"That," Marcus said calmly, "was a friendly sparring match."
Nappa looked like he might faint.
"If... if that was friendly, my lord... what would an actual battle look like?"
Marcus considered the question as the ship lifted off and began its journey back to the empire.
"I hope," he said finally, "that we never have to find out."
But even as he said it, a part of him—the part that was Lord Boros, the part that craved challenge and combat and the thrill of facing worthy opponents—hoped the exact opposite.
Because now that he had tasted what a real fight felt like, he wanted more.
And the universe was a very big place.
There had to be other challenges out there, other opponents who could push him to his limits, other battles waiting to be fought.
Marcus smiled as the stars streaked past the viewport.
His new life was just getting started.