Vermont's staff pulsed once, a low hum filling the air as the skies above the divine world shimmered with golden fractals. "Then it's settled," he said softly. "We shall depart for earth."
Gohan turned to the group. "We'll make one stop first—the Watchtower." His gaze slid toward the Avengers. "You'll want to meet the rest of Earth's protectors before you start doing anything else."
Tony raised a brow. "So… space station meet-and-greet? Great. I didn't bring champagne."
Thor laughed heartily, clapping him on the back. "If the halls of warriors await, then let them see the might of Midgard's champions!"
Rocket groaned, rubbing his face. "Yeah, yeah, just don't start a lightning contest in a metal box, okay?"
Thor shot him a grin. "You truly have little faith in me, rodent."
Rocket froze mid-step, ears twitching. "Rodent?" he repeated, turning with a glare sharp enough to cut vibranium. "Buddy, I've taken apart gods bigger than you for less."
Thor just chuckled, clearly unfazed. "Then it is good I am on your side."
Rocket snorted. "Yeah, for now. Keep callin' me that, though, and we'll see how long that lasts."
With a flick of Vermont's staff, the air twisted into a spiraling vortex of ki and celestial light. One by one, they vanished into it—Thor's laughter echoing last.
Watchtower — Main Hall
The vast chamber glowed with the quiet pulse of orbiting starlight. Steel and glass merged seamlessly with alien alloys, a sanctum of both science and vigilance. The Justice League stood in quiet formation as the air rippled before them.
A flash of light—and they arrived.
Gohan stepped forward first, calm but commanding. His presence was immediately felt, the gravity of divinity pressing down like a quiet storm.
Superman was the first to move. "Welcome back," he said, his voice steady, eyes flicking between Gohan and the strangers behind him. "You brought guests."
"Teammates," Gohan corrected, nodding toward the Avengers.
Tony raised his hand slightly. "Tony Stark, Earth's occasional savior. Don't worry, we only blow up our own planets."
Batman's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't inspire confidence."
"Didn't think it would," Tony said dryly.
Strix had no desire to say anything, she could only contain her glare as she stood beside Gohan and Vermont.
Thor, undeterred, stepped forward, his tone booming through the chamber. "I am Thor Odinson of Asgard, and I greet thee as kin in battle!"
Aquaman smirked. "Finally, someone who gets the dramatic entrance right."
Diana stepped between them, pride gleaming in her eyes. "They've come from another Earth. They face their own struggles."
Batman gave a short nod. "We'll have you set up with temporary identities for now," he said matter-of-factly.
Nebula tilted her head, suspicion flashing across her face. "You sound like you already know what's happened."
"That's because I do," Batman replied evenly. "I was listening in on the broadcast without closing my eyes — using an ancient technique I learned in Tibet."
Tony blinked. "Right. Because of course you did."
"We are the Justice League," Batman said flatly. "We protect the Earth from internal and external threats."
Steve raised a brow. "So… basically this world's Avengers, huh?" He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Glad to see someone's got the same idea."
Batman glanced at the gesture, then at Steve, before giving the briefest shrug imaginable. "If Gohan hadn't vouched for you, you wouldn't have made it past orbit."
Without another word, he turned and strode off — cape flicking behind him like a silent threat. As he passed, he gave Gohan a curt nod.
"Ask Power Girl or Flash," Gohan said, watching him go. "I'm sure either can handle it."
Steve blinked. "…Okay. Nice to meet you too."
Superman chuckled as he stepped in to diffuse the tension. "Don't mind him—he's just… always like that." He took Steve's hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Quite a grip you've got there," Steve said with a grin.
Clark smiled. "I could say the same thing about you."
Gohan, standing a little apart from the exchange, sighed softly. "Well, now that you're in good hands, I've got something else to take care of." He gave a faint nod before lifting off, vanishing down the corridor in a streak of light.
Silence settled over the room for a moment—just the low hum of Watchtower systems filling the gap. Superman's jaw tightened slightly, his hands curling into fists before he forced himself to relax.
"Right," he said, turning back toward Tony. "Unlike Batman, I don't have any mystical Tibetan meditation tricks—and I actually like to keep my eyes open during news broadcasts. So…" He crossed his arms. "Mind filling me in on what exactly's going on?"
Natasha exhaled, her gaze drifting toward the stars outside the Watchtower window. "Well, as far as we know…"
And with that, she began to recount everything.
Gohan and Vermont appeared above Earth.
"Alright, please locate Amanda Waller," Gohan instructed his attendant, who nodded.
"Yes," Vermont replied, peering into his staff. His eyes glowed faintly as he honed in on her presence.
"She appears to be in a warehouse—somewhere on the other side of the planet," he explained, tapping his staff. In an instant, they vanished in a burst of light.
Moments later, Gohan, Vermont, and Strix reappeared above a dense rainforest.
"She's about three kilometers beneath the ground," Vermont noted.
Gohan nodded. "That's fine. Hakai."
The earth below them disintegrated into motes of light, revealing a massive metallic structure buried deep underground.
The three descended toward it. "This must have cost a fortune," Gohan remarked, eyeing the reinforced plating.
He pressed his hand against the wall; there was no resistance. Metal groaned for a split second—then shattered completely under his touch, the shockwave tearing the entire section apart.
Gohan could feel her ki. "I know you're there, Amanda," he said quietly. "You might as well come out."
For a moment, nothing. Then a voice—hoarse but defiant.
"I have a surprise for you…"
Amanda Waller stepped out, clutching a detonator so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"If you lay a hand on me, bombs go off everywhere—millions die!"
Gohan tilted his head, studying her. The exhaustion etched beneath her eyes said more than her words ever could. When he smiled, it wasn't kind.
"I don't remember ever claiming to be a hero," he said.
"No, my lord," Vermont replied evenly, not missing a beat. "You never did."
They both turned toward Strix.
"We are not heroes," she said, her voice like frost. "Nor are we villains.
Before Amanda could react, a beam of light lanced through the air. In an instant, her hand—and the detonator—were gone. The cauterized stump smoked where her arm had been.
Her scream tore through the chamber, raw and animal, echoing off the metal walls. She staggered back, clutching the wound, eyes wide with pain and disbelief. For a moment, she could barely breathe—then, against all reason, she started to laugh.
The sound was broken, hysterical. "It's a good thing I set timers," she choked out between ragged breaths. With her remaining hand, she fumbled for her phone and held it up, trembling. The screen already read 00:00.
"You're too late!" she screamed, tears streaking her face as her laughter turned to a mix of agony and triumph. "I've made my mark!"
Gohan looked at her, then at Vermont. "So… did she?"
Vermont peered into his staff with mock curiosity. "Oh, no. It appears Power Girl and Flash disarmed the bombs before they could scratch the earth."
Amanda's expression twisted in frustration. Her shoulders shook.
"I never thought you'd become such a problem," Gohan said as he walked up to her, his shadow impossibly large as he loomed over her.
"Where is the boy?" Amanda's stiff shoulders seemed to relax.
"Sentinel No. 2?" she asked, lifting her phone and showing him the screen.
The video displayed a boy lying on a table as Amanda walked up beside him and hugged him, before the footage sped forward. Gohan's eyes narrowed as he watched.
Amanda left the frame, leaving the boy alone—except now he held a syringe in one hand and a picture in the other.
Immediately, the boy jabbed himself with the syringe, wincing in pain before quickly injecting his shoulder.
"Where is the boy?" Gohan repeated, voice dropping lower. "I won't ask a third time."
Amanda paled. The silence between them grew heavy enough to crush bone.
Then the air broke.
A young figure burst from the shadows, charging with all the fury a mortal body could muster. His fist cocked back — then drove forward.
The punch hit Gohan dead in the chest.
The entire facility split open like paper around them. Walls sheared apart. The ground buckled. Amanda scrambled back into a corner, excitement gleaming behind her terror.
"You can do it, my son!" she shouted. "You're the only one who can stop him!"
Sentinel No. 2 landed, skidding backward on trembling legs as he tried to size Gohan up again.
Gohan hadn't moved. Not an inch. Not a breath.
He simply looked down at the boy — really looked — and froze.
He recognized the shape of that face. The hair. Even the stance.
A twin.
And — a replica.
Something artificially sculpted to echo his childhood reflection… except for the softer cheeks and bright blue eyes that still held fear.
Gohan let a ripple of ki seep out, a warning, the kind even gods heeded.
Terror washed through the boy like ice water. Yet he still glanced back at Amanda, seeking approval he'd never receive honestly.
He looked back and gave his mother a small, obedient nod. Amanda's innocent smile curdled into something predatory—something that didn't belong on a human face—as the boy's power level detonated inside him.
It started like a tremor under his skin. Then everything ruptured.
Heat flushed through his veins until his skin turned a violent, blistered red. Muscles ballooned and stretched as though his bones were being force-fed power faster than his body could adapt. His spine arched. His jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. Every breath came out as a ragged, animalistic snarl.
And then his aura erupted, a brutal sphere of light and pressure that expanded in all directions. The air screamed as it was ripped apart. The ground split open beneath his feet. Buildings shuddered violently, windows spiderwebbing before bursting outward in a rain of jagged glass. A deep, subsonic boom punched through the atmosphere, rolling across the horizon like thunder dragged from the belly of a god.
The entire planet responded.
The soil vibrated. Mountains groaned. The sky flickered as if the atmosphere itself was struggling to stay attached. Even Amanda had to brace herself, her hair whipping wildly around her face as shockwave after shockwave radiated outward—each one stronger, more violent, more erratic than the last.
The boy let out a sound—not a scream, not a roar, but something caught between agony and euphoria, a noise torn from deep inside as if the power was eating him from within.
His aura kept climbing, rising, spiraling higher, each surge more unstable than the one before.
He wasn't powering up.
He was surviving it.
"You weaponized Saiyan growth… turned it into a constant, forced evolution." His jaw tightened. "At the cost of his sanity. He must be in unending pain — regenerating faster than he can scream."
Space warped.
The creature — no longer a boy, no longer really alive — appeared behind him in a blink, arm raised to carve him open.
Gohan caught it without looking. A simple movement. Efficient. Final.
He knocked the arm away as if batting aside a gust of wind.
Amanda's laughter slithered through the smoke, raspy and glutted with triumph—until a lance of heat vision cut through the haze from the creature.
A burning line of red punched clean through her throat.
The laughter stopped mid-syllable. Amanda staggered, hands flying to the smoking hole in her neck. She collapsed to her knees, choking and writhing as blood bubbled between her fingers. Her breaths came wet and ragged, each one sounding like her lungs were drowning from the inside.
The creature came again, faster this time, feral.
Gohan didn't move until the precise moment. Then his arm blurred.
A strike to the back of the neck—perfect angle, perfect force.
The creature's body shut down instantly. It folded forward like a puppet with cut strings, crashing to the ground, limbs twitching.
Amanda could only watch while coping with her increasing difficulty with breathing, her eyes were bloodshot as she gasped for air.
The scene fell silent, Amanda's choking the only sound. Gohan sighed as he turned to Vermont, a weary sound cutting through the chaos.
"Can we turn him back?" His voice was low, weighted.
"I already used the do-over ability and it appears he had been injected long before we arrived." Vermont explained.
Gohan nodded, jaw tightening. "Then we take him with us. I will try and use the 6th dimension to fix him."
And then the creature's eyes snapped open.
A second aura—hotter, sharper, even more unstable—detonated outward. The air buckled from the pressure. The ground vibrated violently. A roar tore from the creature's throat as a sphere of golden ki formed in its jaws.
It fired.
A full-power blast, point-blank.
The beam slammed into Gohan's chest before ricocheting wildly across the chamber.
Vermont intercepted a stray beam with his staff, the collision erupting in a burst of light.
Strix twisted out of another's path, redirecting one with a sharp, precise strike of her fist.
Gohan surged forward through the attack. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, drew back his fist and hit the creature in the gut.
A shockwave ripped outward so violently it erased the terrain in a perfect radius.
For hundreds of kilometers, birds launched from trees and windows cracked.
The noise wasn't just heard—it was felt deep in bone.
The creature gasped once, then collapsed, unconscious once more.
Amanda lay sprawled beside the rubble, unmoving. Her eyes had rolled back completely. Blood leaked from her ears. The bursts of ki-light had burned her skin in uneven patches, like she'd been too close to a star when it flared.
Vermont and Strix stood watching, untouched, accustomed to violence on a cosmic scale.
Gohan lifted the unconscious creature into his arms. "He'll wake soon. I don't want to kill him. I'll seal him for now. He's calm like this… almost peaceful."
The unstable ki around the creature's body flickered, then finally sputtered out.
"Alright," Gohan murmured, closing his eyes. "Let's try this again."
He focused, letting his ki settle into a calm, steady pulse. This blade needed to be precise—measured—crafted with intention rather than spectacle. A soft glow gathered around his hand, and a magic circle formed above his palm, its symbols rotating with quiet purpose.
Piece by piece, the katana took shape.
The Blade
The blade emerged first: long, slender, and slightly curved, following the traditional silhouette of a katana. Its surface gleamed with a dark, polished sheen—black at a glance, but catching hints of violet when the light struck it just right. The edge was sharp enough that even the air around it seemed to thin.
Unlike the Z-Sword, this blade wasn't massive or overwhelming. Its strength lay in refinement, not size. Every line, every angle, every detail spoke of precision and control.
The Guard
A simple oval handguard formed where blade met hilt. It was modest in size but intricately engraved with flowing patterns—ancient sigils that traced the sword's enchantments. They weren't loud or glowing; they were subtle, etched cleanly as though carved by a master smith.
The Hilt
The hilt was wrapped in black, tightly bound material that felt solid and reliable. A faint thread of violet ki pulsed beneath the wrapping—not enough to flare outward, just enough to remind the wielder of the blade's divine origin. It was clearly designed for ease of movement, not brute force.
The Pommel
The pommel mirrored the guard's design, modest and well-crafted, engraved with matching symbols. It gave the weapon a sense of completion and balance, the kind found only in blades forged with intention rather than ambition.
The Enchantment
As the finishing touch, the magic circle above the blade compressed, its symbols sinking neatly into the metal. They left behind a single, clean inscription along the flat of the blade:
災滅印
The Curse of the Destroyer.
It didn't glow or hum or distort the air.
It simply was—quiet, undeniable, and final.
Gohan held the completed katana out in front of him. It looked almost understated compared to the towering Z-Sword he had forged before. But there was a clarity to it—a deliberate weight that hinted at the power bound within.
A blade not meant to impress.
A blade meant to judge.
The creature's form disappeared as it was sealed into the divine blade. Gohan's gaze turned to Amanda's body. He walked up to her before glancing back at his new creation.
With a swift movement, a purple outline sliced cleanly through Amanda's form. From the cut, violet sparkles drifted into the air.
"Unfortunately for you, Amanda, you won't be coming back again," Gohan said. Turning away, he tossed the blade upward and watched it vanish in a flash of light.
"Alright, now that Amanda has been taken care of, let's return," Gohan said.
"Yes," Vermont replied as he tapped his staff against the ground. In an instant, the entire area came back to life; three kilometers of devastated forestation had been fully restored.
Gohan smiled. "Good job."
"Thank you for your praise," Vermont answered. Strix, as always, remained silent—she had long since grown accustomed to miracles.
"I do want to check up on those royals. Hopefully there haven't been any strange occurrences," Gohan sighed. "But that can wait until we leave Earth again." Suddenly, Gohan's stomach rumbled hard enough to make the ground vibrate. His face flushed pink.
"Let's grab something to eat. Which country should we go to?" Gohan asked. "You know, this world was always strange to me. They have so many different borders here."
"A stark contrast to your own, my lord?" Strix asked. "To me, borders are common. I had to crush the resistance of many."
"Yes. Our entire planet was ruled by one person—the king. I'm pretty sure my dad met him a couple times," Gohan explained.
"Perhaps we could venture to an island?" Vermont proposed.
Gohan turned to him and gave a thumbs up.
Back in the Watchtower, Flash and Power Girl sped into the monitor room.
"You weren't kidding—you're definitely a lot faster. Superman's been the only person who could kind of match my speed," Barry said. Karen smirked.
"It's not all about speed," she replied as they noticed the Man of Steel speaking with Tony, Steve, Natasha, Rocket, and Thor.
"Ah, guys, this is my cousin, Power Girl," Clark said as Karen smiled and extended her hand.
"I hear you're our new guests—from a parallel Earth, and from another Justice League, I hear," she said. Tony grinned as she shook their hands.
"We are the Avengers. We can't always save everyone… but you damn well know we'll avenge 'em," Tony said.
"That's interesting. I wasn't expecting to meet champions of another Earth," Karen replied. The League members exchanged looks, slightly stunned by her choice of words. Even Flash looked confused.
"You seem to have mellowed out a lot," Flash said. Karen raised an eyebrow, and Barry instantly regretted his phrasing, bracing for a punch. Instead, he sighed in relief when she answered calmly.
"It's the training I went through," she said. "Gohan's father is a real master martial artist, and his nonchalant mindset made me question why I was always so strong but felt like I needed to outshine everyone—especially Superman."
Karen looked down at her hand, clenched it into a fist, then relaxed. The corner of her mouth lifted into a small grin, surprising Barry and everyone else present.
"But now… I'm so strong that those old habits feel kind of pointless," she finished honestly.
"I, for one, am happy to know I have someone as confident as Power Girl on our side," Superman teased.
The comment instantly got under her skin.
"You think I'm kidding?" she asked, stepping up to him with a spark of her old fire. "Let's arm wrestle!" she challenged. Clark raised his hands in surrender.
"I'm kidding, cousin. I was just kidding," Superman said quickly, trying to deescalate. Karen was already half ignoring him.
"Is she not a hero?" Thor asked.
Tony sighed while Rocket facepalmed.
"I am a superhero. I don't know the limits of your strength, but I'm very familiar with my cousin's—and I'm very sure of my own," she declared.
Barry sighed. For a moment, he thought Karen had learned how to relax. 'Maybe she could've… if it weren't for the one person she's always wanted to outshine,' he thought.
Clark sighed before relenting. "Alright, we can have a single match. I'm interested in your strength as well. I won't give up the Symbol of Hope that easily," he said with a grin.
"I wouldn't want it any other way," she agreed.
"I wish to go first, if that is fine with you two?" Thor suddenly interjected.
The two stopped for a moment, sizing him up and down.
"I mean… sure," Power Girl said, eyeing Thor. "But just a heads-up—we're not exactly lightweight."
Thor smirked and patted his stomach proudly. "Do not worry about me. I carry strength that would humble most mortals."
Karen and Clark traded a look. A very are-we-really-doing-this kind of look.
Tony jumped in before either of them could respond. "Thor can handle it." His tone was casual, but pointed. "I don't know what your upper limits are, but where we come from, only a handful of people can keep up with him. The guy's a god—literally."
Whether Thor actually still competes is another story, Tony added silently. Natasha gave him a knowing side-eye; she remembered the post-Snap slump better than anyone.
"Alright," Karen sighed. "Flash and I still have to run that bomb debrief anyway." She motioned for Barry, and the two headed toward the monitor room.
Thor rolled his shoulders. "This should be entertaining," he said as they made their way to the training room and stepped up to the light-construct table.
They waited for about ten minutes until Flash and Karen finished their debriefing.
"Careful with it," Karen warned. "It's a hard-light construct—basically unbreakable unless you're cheating."
Clark and Thor took their positions and clasped hands.
"Just to be safe," Clark said, "Start weak, if one of us outclasses the other by a lot, let's not have any snapped arms today."
Thor nodded. "Agreed. We fight as allies, not enemies."
Karen placed her hands over theirs. "Ready?"
Both men nodded.
"Three… two… one… go!"
They pushed.
For the first few seconds, nothing moved. Thor's grin faded into effort. Clark's brow furrowed. They leaned in, muscles tightening, each waiting for the other to crack.
Thor exhaled sharply and pushed harder.
Clark's eyes widened. "Whoa—you're actually strong." It wasn't flattery; it was surprise. Karen blinked too, while Tony tried not to look smug.
Clark pushed back, and the Watchtower gave a low, unsettling tremor. Panels hummed. Lights flickered.
Thor's aura flared—eyes blazing blue as lightning crawled across his arms.
The sudden divine surge drew startled gasps. Clark groaned under the pressure.
"That's magic, isn't it?" he managed through clenched teeth. He knew that sensation all too well.
"Magic… and divinity," Thor grunted back. Inside, he felt a spark of exhilaration—he hadn't been able to tap into anything like this in a long time. Somehow, this new situation had lit a fire under him—or rather, a surge of lightning.
'Am I still worthy?'
Clark could barely spare the focus to speak.
If I slip for even a second, he might actually beat me, Clark realized—right before his arm suddenly slammed Thor's down against the construct, ending the match and stunning everyone.
Thor winced from the impact, clearly in pain, but his attention was fixed on his hands as they trembled slightly. 'I have hope…' He looked up at the Man of Steel and smiled.
'Symbol of Hope…' The powers of a god still flowed through Thor.