Marcus had been Lord Boros for approximately two months when he finally admitted to himself that he had a problem.
Not the "ruling an interstellar empire" problem, which he had more or less gotten used to. Not the "being an alien with one eye and purple skin" problem, which was just his life now. Not even the "accidentally becoming friends with the God of Destruction" problem, which was still weird but manageable.
No, Marcus's problem was much more fundamental than any of those things.
His ultimate form was going to kill him.
It was not an immediate concern, obviously. Marcus had no intention of using Meteoric Burst unless absolutely necessary, and given that he had just fought Beerus to a standstill in his Released Form alone, there were very few situations that would require him to push beyond that level.
But the knowledge lurked in the back of his mind like a splinter, constantly irritating, impossible to ignore.
Meteoric Burst was power without limit, speed beyond comprehension, strength that could shatter planets with a casual gesture. It was everything that Lord Boros had ever wanted—the ultimate expression of his combat potential, the pinnacle of his evolutionary development.
It was also, according to the memories Marcus had inherited, a form that burned through his life force at an alarming rate. Every second spent in Meteoric Burst was a second shaved off his existence, a piece of his immortality sacrificed on the altar of temporary power.
In the original One Punch Man timeline, Boros had used Meteoric Burst against Saitama and had been killed shortly afterward. Granted, being punched by Saitama probably had more to do with his death than the stamina drain, but the principle remained: Meteoric Burst was a double-edged sword that cut the wielder as deeply as the enemy.
And Marcus did not want to die.
He had already died once, and while the experience had led to some interesting developments, he was not eager to repeat it. His new life as Lord Boros was just getting interesting—he had fought a god, he had an empire to run, and somewhere out there, the events of Dragon Ball were waiting to unfold.
He wanted to be around to see them.
Which meant he needed to find a way to fix Meteoric Burst.
Or, failing that, develop something better.
Marcus sat in his private chambers, staring out the viewport at the endless expanse of stars, and let his mind wander back to his previous life.
Before his death, he had spent an embarrassing amount of time on Reddit, particularly the subreddits dedicated to anime discussions and power scaling debates. He had read countless theories about various characters, their abilities, their potential developments, their hidden strengths and weaknesses.
And he had read theories about Boros.
Lots of theories about Boros.
The character had been popular among the One Punch Man fanbase, despite appearing in only a single arc. His design was iconic, his power level was absurd, and his fight with Saitama remained one of the most visually spectacular battles in the entire series. Naturally, this had led to endless speculation about what Boros could have achieved if he had survived, if he had been given time to grow and develop beyond what the manga had shown.
Marcus closed his eye—his single, massive eye that still felt strange after two months of use—and tried to remember those theories.
There had been discussions about Boros's regeneration, about whether it could be enhanced or weaponized in new ways. There had been debates about his energy projection, about whether the attacks he fired from his chest eye could be developed into more sophisticated techniques. There had been speculation about his species, about whether other members of his race existed and what abilities they might possess.
And there had been theories about a fourth form.
Marcus's eye snapped open.
The fourth form.
He remembered now. It had been a popular topic on the subreddit, a subject of endless theorycrafting and fan speculation. The basic premise was simple: if Boros had three forms (Sealed, Released, and Meteoric Burst), then it was logical to assume that he could potentially develop a fourth form that transcended all of them.
The theories had varied wildly in their specifics. Some fans had proposed a "Perfect Meteoric Burst" that eliminated the stamina drain while retaining the power boost. Others had suggested a "Cosmic Form" that drew energy from external sources rather than burning through Boros's own life force. Still others had theorized about a "Transcendent State" that pushed beyond the physical entirely, transforming Boros into a being of pure energy.
Marcus had dismissed these theories at the time, viewing them as little more than fan wish-fulfillment. Boros was dead in canon, killed by Saitama, and no amount of theorycrafting would change that.
But Marcus was not in canon anymore.
Marcus was IN Boros's body, WITH Boros's powers, in a universe where transformation and power-ups were literally the foundation of the power system.
Dragon Ball was built on the concept of overcoming limitations. Goku had broken through barrier after barrier, achieving forms that should have been impossible, reaching heights that defied all logic and reason. Super Saiyan had been a legend until Goku made it real. Super Saiyan 2 had seemed like the ultimate evolution until Gohan proved otherwise. And beyond that lay Super Saiyan 3, Super Saiyan God, Super Saiyan Blue, Ultra Instinct...
The pattern was clear.
Limitations existed to be broken.
And if Goku could do it, why couldn't Marcus?
He stood up from his throne and began to pace, his mind racing through the implications of what he was considering.
The problem with Meteoric Burst was energy efficiency. The form released all of Boros's limiters at once, flooding his body with power that it was not designed to sustain. It was like opening all the floodgates on a dam—impressive, certainly, but ultimately destructive to the structure itself.
What Marcus needed was a way to channel that same level of power without the corresponding drain on his life force.
In Dragon Ball terms, he needed to achieve mastery over his own energy, to develop the kind of refined control that would allow him to access his full potential without burning himself out in the process.
He needed, essentially, to do what Goku had done with Ultra Instinct—take a power that was inherently dangerous and self-destructive and transform it into something sustainable.
The question was: how?
Marcus stopped pacing and turned to look at his reflection in the viewport. His purple face stared back at him, the single yellow-green eye thoughtful, the lipless mouth set in a contemplative frown.
"Nappa," he said.
The young Saiyan appeared at the door almost instantly, as if he had been waiting just outside for this exact moment. "Yes, my lord?"
"I need information about ki control techniques. Specifically, techniques that allow warriors to maximize their power output while minimizing the strain on their bodies."
Nappa blinked, clearly not expecting this particular request. "Ki control, my lord? I... I am not certain that Saiyan techniques would be applicable to your physiology, but I can inquire among the elder warriors. Some of them have studied the martial arts traditions of conquered worlds..."
"Do that. I want every text, every scroll, every piece of information you can find about advanced energy manipulation. Bring it all to me."
"Yes, my lord!" Nappa bowed and hurried off to carry out the order.
Marcus returned to his contemplation, his mind still churning through possibilities.
The Reddit theories he remembered had suggested several potential paths to a fourth form.
One theory had proposed that Boros could achieve a "Stable Meteoric Burst" by learning to regulate the flow of energy through his body. Instead of releasing everything at once, he would maintain a constant, sustainable level of output that provided the benefits of Meteoric Burst without the catastrophic drawbacks.
Another theory had suggested that Boros could develop a "Life Force Absorption" ability, draining energy from his surroundings to fuel his transformation rather than burning through his own reserves. This would make Meteoric Burst not just sustainable but potentially infinite, as long as there was ambient energy to absorb.
A third theory—Marcus's personal favorite from his Reddit days—had proposed something more radical. It suggested that Boros could achieve a form of "Energy Transcendence," where his body would adapt to the strain of Meteoric Burst over time, eventually evolving to the point where the form no longer damaged him at all. This was based on Boros's already impressive regeneration and his species' apparent ability to continuously grow stronger.
Any of these paths could work, in theory.
The question was which one to pursue.
Marcus considered his options carefully.
The "Stable Meteoric Burst" approach was probably the safest and most straightforward. It did not require any fundamental changes to his abilities, just better control over what he already had. In Dragon Ball terms, it was like what Goku and Gohan had done with Super Saiyan—learning to maintain the form constantly until it became as natural as breathing, eliminating the stamina drain through sheer mastery.
The "Life Force Absorption" approach was more powerful but also more dangerous. It would require Marcus to develop an entirely new ability, one that could potentially have unintended consequences. What if he accidentally drained the life force of allies? What if the absorbed energy was unstable or incompatible with his biology? There were too many unknowns.
The "Energy Transcendence" approach was the most appealing from a theoretical standpoint, but also the most uncertain. It relied on the assumption that his body could adapt and evolve, which was probably true given Boros's demonstrated regeneration and the general "Zenkai boost" nature of Dragon Ball power-ups. But it would take time—potentially a lot of time—and there was no guarantee that the adaptation would occur in the way he wanted.
Marcus sighed and rubbed his temples—a gesture that felt strange with his new facial structure but was still oddly comforting.
Maybe he was overcomplicating this.
Maybe the answer was simpler than any of the Reddit theories had suggested.
He thought back to his fight with Beerus, to the way the God of Destruction had moved and attacked and defended. Beerus had been using what appeared to be a fraction of his full power, yet that fraction had been enough to match Marcus's Released Form. The god had perfect control over his energy, able to dial his output up or down with precision that Marcus could only dream of achieving.
And Beerus had mentioned something during their fight, a casual comment that Marcus had filed away without fully processing at the time.
"You rely too much on raw power," Beerus had said, dodging one of Marcus's attacks with contemptuous ease. "Power is nothing without control. Learn to refine your energy, and you might actually become a threat."
At the time, Marcus had dismissed the comment as trash talk, the kind of thing that fighters said to each other in the heat of battle. But now, thinking about it more carefully, he realized that Beerus had been giving him genuine advice.
Control.
That was the key.
Not a new form, not a new ability, not some dramatic power-up that would solve all his problems. Just control. The ability to use what he already had more efficiently, more precisely, more sustainably.
In Dragon Ball, the characters who achieved the highest levels of power were not necessarily the ones with the most raw strength. They were the ones who had learned to master their abilities, to push past their limitations through training and discipline and sheer force of will.
Goku had not become the strongest by simply powering up again and again. He had trained under masters, learned new techniques, refined his control over ki until he could access forms that should have been impossible.
If Marcus wanted to fix Meteoric Burst, he needed to do the same thing.
He needed to train.
The thought was almost laughable. Marcus Chen, the guy who had avoided physical exercise his entire life, was now contemplating a training regimen that would push him to the absolute limits of his capabilities. The universe truly had a sense of humor.
But there was no other option.
If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to thrive, if he wanted to be ready for whatever challenges this universe threw at him, he needed to become stronger. Not just in terms of raw power—he already had plenty of that—but in terms of skill, control, and mastery.
He needed to become a warrior in truth, not just in appearance.
"My lord?"
Marcus turned to find Nappa standing at the entrance to his chambers, his arms full of scrolls and tablets and what appeared to be a very ancient-looking book bound in some kind of leather.
"I have gathered what information I could find on ki control techniques," Nappa said, approaching the throne and carefully depositing his burden on a nearby table. "Most of it comes from worlds we conquered centuries ago, but some of the elder warriors had personal notes on meditation and energy refinement as well."
Marcus looked at the pile of materials, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
This was it.
This was the beginning of his training.
"Thank you, Nappa. You may go."
The young Saiyan bowed and departed, leaving Marcus alone with the accumulated wisdom of a dozen conquered civilizations.
He picked up the first scroll and began to read.
The weeks that followed were some of the most intellectually challenging of Marcus's existence—either of his existences, really.
The texts that Nappa had gathered were dense and complex, written in languages that Marcus could only understand thanks to Boros's inherited knowledge, filled with concepts and terminology that had no equivalent in Earth culture. They spoke of energy pathways and spiritual centers, of the flow of life force through the body and the techniques for manipulating that flow.
Some of it was familiar from his Dragon Ball knowledge. The concept of ki, of channeling internal energy for combat purposes, was well-established in the series. But the texts went deeper than anything the anime had shown, delving into the philosophical and metaphysical foundations of energy manipulation.
One scroll, written by a species of beings who had achieved a form of collective consciousness before being absorbed into Boros's empire, described energy as a spectrum rather than a single substance. According to this text, what most beings called "ki" or "life force" was actually just one frequency of a much broader range of energetic phenomena. By learning to access different frequencies, a warrior could achieve effects that would otherwise be impossible.
Another text, this one from a race of warrior-monks who had spent millennia perfecting their martial arts, outlined a training regimen designed to refine energy control to its absolute limit. The process was grueling—thousands of hours of meditation, countless repetitions of specific exercises, a complete restructuring of how the practitioner related to their own power—but the results were supposedly transformative.
A third document, more recent and written by a Saiyan scholar who had been studying the power-ups of his own race, theorized about the nature of transformation itself. According to this scholar, transformations like the Great Ape form and the legendary Super Saiyan were not simply increases in power but fundamental shifts in how the user's energy was organized and expressed. By understanding the principles underlying these transformations, it might be possible to develop new forms tailored to specific needs.
Marcus devoured all of it.
He read until his eye ached, until the words began to blur together, until his mind felt stuffed to bursting with information that he was not entirely sure how to apply.
But slowly, gradually, patterns began to emerge.
The key to sustainable power, according to almost all of the texts, was efficiency. A warrior who could accomplish the same effect with less energy expenditure would always have an advantage over one who relied on brute force alone. This was true in combat, where conserving energy could mean the difference between victory and defeat, and it was true in transformation, where unnecessary energy drain could cut short even the most powerful form.
Meteoric Burst was the opposite of efficient. It was a form that sacrificed everything—longevity, sustainability, the user's very life force—for a temporary boost in power. It was a desperation move, a last resort, a technique designed to be used once and never again.
But what if it did not have to be?
What if Marcus could take the principles of energy efficiency and apply them to Meteoric Burst, restructuring the form from the ground up to eliminate its drawbacks?
It was a radical idea, and Marcus had no idea if it would work. The texts he had read dealt with refinement and optimization, not with completely redesigning a transformation. But the underlying principles should still apply.
If he could learn to control the energy flow of his Released Form with perfect precision...
If he could develop the ability to regulate his power output at a moment's notice...
If he could train his body to handle the strain of Meteoric Burst without burning through his life force...
Then maybe, just maybe, he could achieve something that had only existed in Reddit theories and fan speculation.
A fourth form.
A perfected state that combined the power of Meteoric Burst with the sustainability of his Released Form.
A transformation that would make him truly, genuinely, unequivocally unstoppable.
The thought was intoxicating.
It was also terrifying.
Because Marcus knew, from his years of watching Dragon Ball, that power always came with a price. Every transformation, every power-up, every new level of strength brought with it new challenges and new dangers. The stronger you became, the stronger your enemies became in response. The higher you climbed, the further you had to fall.
If he achieved a fourth form, he would be painting a target on his back. Every ambitious warrior in the universe would want to challenge him. Every divine being would view him as a potential threat. Even Beerus, who had seemed almost friendly after their sparring match, might reconsider his position if Marcus became too powerful.
But what was the alternative?
Stay where he was? Accept his limitations? Wait for the events of Dragon Ball to unfold and hope that he could navigate them without accessing his full power?
That was not who Lord Boros was.
That was not who Marcus was becoming.
He had been given this power for a reason. He had been reincarnated into this body, into this universe, with abilities that defied comprehension. It would be a waste—a CRIME—to not push those abilities as far as they could go.
So Marcus made a decision.
He was going to train.
He was going to study.
He was going to push himself harder than he had ever pushed himself in either of his lives.
And he was going to achieve a fourth form.
Not for power's sake, though the power would certainly be nice. Not for dominance or conquest or any of the things that the original Boros might have wanted.
He was going to do it because it was POSSIBLE.
Because in this universe, limits existed only to be broken.
And Marcus was going to break every single one.
"Nappa."
The young Saiyan appeared at the door, as attentive as always. "Yes, my lord?"
"I am going to begin a new training regimen. During this time, I will be largely unavailable for routine matters. You will coordinate with the commanders to ensure the empire continues to function in my absence."
Nappa's eyes widened. "Training, my lord? You wish to become... even stronger?"
"Is that surprising?"
"I... no, my lord. It is simply..." Nappa hesitated, clearly choosing his words carefully. "You are already the most powerful being any of us have ever encountered. The thought that you could become even stronger is... it is difficult to comprehend."
Marcus smiled, a thin expression that showed perhaps too many teeth.
"That," he said, "is exactly the point."
"How long will your training last, my lord?"
Marcus considered the question.
The texts he had read suggested that the kind of refinement he was seeking could take years, decades, even centuries to achieve. The warrior-monks had spent their entire lives perfecting their energy control, and even then, only a handful had achieved the highest levels of mastery.
But Marcus was not a normal practitioner.
He had the body of Lord Boros, with all of its regeneration and adaptation and evolutionary potential. He had the knowledge of a thousand conquered civilizations at his fingertips. And he had something that none of those ancient masters had possessed: the memories of a fan who had spent years analyzing fictional power systems, who understood the patterns and principles of strength in a way that no native of this universe ever could.
"Years," Marcus said finally. "Perhaps decades. I do not know exactly how long. But when I emerge from this training, I will be fundamentally transformed."
Nappa nodded solemnly. "I understand, my lord. I will ensure that the empire remains stable in your absence."
"Good. And Nappa?"
"Yes, my lord?"
Marcus's smile widened.
"Spread the word among the Saiyans. Tell them that Lord Boros is training to achieve a new level of power. Tell them that when I return, I will be unlike anything the universe has ever seen."
"My lord... is that wise? Such news might encourage challengers, or—"
"I want challengers," Marcus interrupted. "I want every ambitious warrior in the galaxy to hear that Lord Boros is pushing beyond his limits. I want them to prepare, to train, to become as strong as they possibly can."
He turned to face the viewport, staring out at the endless expanse of stars.
"Because when I emerge from this training, I am going to need worthy opponents. And I intend to make sure that they are ready for me."
Nappa bowed deeply. "As you command, my lord."
As the young Saiyan departed, Marcus allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection.
He was about to embark on a journey that would push him to his absolute limits, that would force him to confront every weakness and overcome every obstacle. He had no idea if he would succeed, no guarantee that his theories and plans would actually work.
But he was going to try.
Because that was what it meant to be Lord Boros.
That was what it meant to be a warrior.
And somewhere, in a corner of his mind that was still very much Marcus Chen, a small voice was laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Reddit theories.
He was going to base his training regimen on REDDIT THEORIES.
If his old anime club could see him now, they would never believe it.
But then again, they would never believe any of this.
Marcus closed his eye and began to meditate, focusing on the flow of energy through his body, taking the first steps on a path that would lead him to heights of power that even Lord Boros had never imagined.
The fourth form was waiting.
And Marcus was going to find it.
No matter how long it took.