The mountain peak was a blur of violence.
Garou fought like a demon possessed. His movements were a chaotic symphony of martial arts styles—Bang's flowing water, Bomb's whirlwind iron, and the raw, savage tearing of a monster. He didn't defend; he only attacked. Every time a cyborg ninja lunged, Garou met them halfway, shattering blades and crushing titanium skulls.
"Too slow!" Garou roared, ducking under a plasma sword and ripping the wielder's spine-battery out. "Is this the 'Heavenly' speed? You're barely moving!"
Genos was a mobile artillery platform. He stood directly over Saitama's motionless body, acting as a living shield. His core was redlining, pumping out heat that turned the snow around them to steam.
"Spiral Incineration Cannon!"
A beam of spiraling fire swept the area, vaporizing three ninjas instantly. But for every one they downed, two more appeared from the shadows. These weren't just standard soldiers; they were elites. Speed-o'-Sound Sonic's classmates. The graduated class of the ninja hell.
"Give it up!" That Man laughed, descending closer with the black cube. The cube pulsed in sync with a low, unnatural heartbeat. "Even you can't fight forever. The ritual requires only physical contact. Once the cube touches his skin, his soul is displaced. God enters the vessel. Game over."
He was ten feet away.
"Not while I'm breathing," Garou spat. He launched himself into the air, aiming a kick at That Man's masked face.
"Fool."
That Man didn't dodge. He simply blurred. He moved faster than Flashy Flash. Faster than light. He appeared behind Garou and struck him in the back with a palm strike.
CRACK.
Garou plummeted to the ground, skipping like a stone, coughing blood. "He's... fast..."
That Man continued his descent. Genos swiveled his cannons.
"Don't move!" Genos yelled.
"Silence, machine." That Man flicked his wrist.
A shockwave, thin as a razor, sliced through the air. It cut Genos's right arm clean off. Then his left leg.
Genos collapsed onto Saitama's chest, sparking violently. "S... Sensei..."
That Man landed. He loomed over the pile of bodies. He held the black cube directly over Saitama's chest.
"A perfect vessel," he whispered reverently. "Empty. Indestructible. Bored."
He lowered the cube. Inch by inch.
Inside the Dream.
Saitama stood over the defeated monster. He was panting. Sweat—actual sweat—dripped from his forehead. His knuckles were bruised. His muscles ached with a dull, satisfying burn.
"I... I felt that," he whispered. He looked at his hands. He felt alive.
The crowd cheered. "Saitama! Saitama!"
Dream-Fubuki walked up to him, wiping his brow with a silk handkerchief. "You were wonderful. A true hero. And look..." She held up a mirror.
He had hair. Glorious, windswept hair.
"It's perfect," Saitama said. "This world... it has everything. Meaning. Struggle. Shampoo options."
"Stay," Dream-Genos said, clapping him on the shoulder. His arm felt warm, human. "Why go back to being bored? Why go back to paying rent?"
"Yeah," Saitama smiled. "Why would I?"
He looked around at the adoring faces. He looked at the monster he'd defeated after a grueling ten-minute battle. He felt a sense of accomplishment he hadn't felt in three years.
Then, he heard something.
It wasn't a sound in the dream. It was faint. Distant. Like a radio left on in another room.
"...don't... touch... him..."
It was a raspy, robotic voice. Distorted by pain.
Saitama frowned. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Dream-Fubuki asked, smiling a little too perfectly. "Just the applause, darling."
"...get... away..."
Saitama looked at Dream-Genos. "You said something?"
"I said stay," Dream-Genos repeated. His eyes didn't blink. "Stay forever."
Saitama looked closer at Dream-Genos. The cyborg looked perfect. Too perfect. His face was symmetrical. His clothes were clean.
"You know," Saitama said slowly. "Real Genos usually has oil on his shirt. And he rambles way more. He would have given me a twenty-page essay on why I should stay."
He looked at the crowd. They were cheering on a loop. "Saitama! Saitama! Saitama!" It sounded like a recording.
He looked at his hair in the mirror. He pulled a strand. It didn't hurt.
"And Fubuki..." he turned to her. "She never calls me 'darling.' She calls me 'idiot' or 'baldy.' Mostly baldy."
The world flickered. For a second, the blue sky turned to static. The perfect faces distorted into grimaces.
"This is nice," Saitama said. "Really nice. Being weak... having fun... it's what I wanted."
He closed his eyes.
"But..."
He clenched his fist.
"My friends are getting beat up outside, aren't they?"
The illusion shattered.
Dream-Fubuki's face melted into a scream. The monster dissolved into code. The hair on his head turned into ash and blew away.
"Wait!" the dream voice screamed. "You can have it all! Just accept it!"
"Nah," Saitama said. "A dream where my friends are fake isn't a dream."
He opened his eyes. And then he punched the sky.
SERIOUS SERIES: SERIOUS WAKE-UP CALL.
He didn't punch a person. He punched the dimension.
The mountain peak exploded.
Not from a bomb. From within the portal.
The Golden Gate didn't just break; it detonated. Golden shards of psychic energy rained down like glass shrapnel.
The blast wave threw That Man backwards just as the black cube brushed Saitama's shirt. The cube went flying, tumbling into the snow.
Saitama sat up.
He was bald again. He looked annoyed.
He looked down at Genos, who was missing limbs and leaking hydraulic fluid all over his chest. He looked at Garou, who was barely standing, surrounded by broken ninja parts.
"Hey," Saitama said softly.
He stood up, gently moving Genos aside.
That Man picked himself up from a crater in the rock. His mask was cracked. "Impossible! You rejected the desire matrix! How? It gave you perfection!"
"It gave me hair," Saitama said, walking towards him. "And a good fight. But the Genos in there didn't talk enough."
He cracked his knuckles.
"And you hurt the loud one."
That Man sneered. "So you woke up. It doesn't matter. I have the speed of a god! I have the technique of a thousand years! I am—"
That Man vanished. He moved to blitz Saitama, aiming for the throat.
Saitama didn't turn. He didn't block.
He just reached out to his left.
Grab.
He caught That Man by the face. His fingers wrapped around the mask and the skull beneath it.
That Man flailed. He tried to phase, to teleport, to vibrate. But Saitama's grip was an anchor. It grounded him in reality. It trapped him in the physics of a "one punch" universe.
"You talked about desires," Saitama said, lifting the leader of the ninjas off the ground.
"My desire right now," Saitama pulled his other fist back. "Is to make you pay for Genos's repairs."
Killer Move: Normal Punch.
It wasn't serious. It didn't need to be.
Saitama punched That Man in the stomach.
The force traveled through the ninja leader's body, exiting his back in a visible cone of compressed air that cleared the cloud layer for twenty miles.
That Man didn't die. That would be too easy. His armor shattered. His internal power source cracked. The "god energy" within him was forcibly ejected, vomiting out of his mouth in a stream of black smoke.
He went limp in Saitama's grip. Broken. Powerless. Just an old man in fancy pajamas.
Saitama dropped him.
He walked over to the black cube lying in the snow.
"And this thing," Saitama picked it up.
He felt the presence inside. The whisper.
"Shut up," Saitama said.
He tossed the cube into the air.
Normal Punch.
The cube shattered. Not into pieces. Into dust. The entity inside screamed—a sound only psychics could hear—and vanished.
Saitama turned to Garou. "You okay?"
Garou wiped blood from his mouth, grinning wildly. "Never better. That was... efficient."
Saitama walked over to Genos. He knelt down.
"Sensei..." Genos whirred weakly. "I failed... to protect..."
"You kept the flies off me while I napped," Saitama patted Genos's head. "Good job."
He picked up Genos's torso with one hand, grabbing his detached leg with the other. "Let's go home. Fubuki said something about raiding the Neo Hero pantry. I want pudding."
Later that night.
The captured Neo Hero flagship was now firmly established as "Saitama's Base of Operations" (mostly because his apartment still had no walls).
Fubuki oversaw the medical bay where Genos was being repaired by Dr. Kuseno and Child Emperor, who had happily defected to Team Saitama just to study the tech.
Garou sat in the mess hall, eating a steak with his bare hands. Zombieman sat opposite him, smoking.
"You know," Zombieman said. "We just declared war on God. And the Ninja Village. And probably what's left of the Neo Heroes."
"Yep," Garou chewed.
"We're a bunch of broken S-Class rejects, a monster hunter, a psychic, and a bald guy."
"Yep."
"I like our odds," Zombieman smiled.
In the command center, Sitch—who had been essentially dragged along by the tide of events—looked at the main screen.
The Hero Association ratings were chaotic. But the "Final Fortress" approval rating was at 100%.
The screen flashed. An incoming transmission.
It was heavily encrypted. It bypassed all security.
A face appeared on the screen. Not human. It was Bofoi. Metal Knight.
"Attention, Team Saitama," the robotic voice droned.
"I have analyzed the data from the battle. You have proven... resilient."
"But God is waking up. The dimensional walls are thinning. My satellites detect tears opening in City A, City Q, and City Z."
The image shifted to show massive monsters emerging from rifts—monsters that looked like distorted versions of S-Class heroes from other dimensions. An Evil Flashy Flash. A cyborg Tanktop Master. A mutant Child Emperor.
"The Multiverse is invading," Metal Knight said.
"And I have decided to join the winning side."
The screen showed Metal Knight's massive army of robots turning their weapons towards the cities.
"Target: Humanity. Directive: Survival of the Fittest."
The transmission cut.
Saitama walked onto the bridge, holding a cup of chocolate pudding. "Who was that robot guy? He seemed grumpy."
Fubuki looked at him, pale. "Metal Knight just declared war on the human race."
Saitama licked the spoon. "Man. Just when I thought things were quieting down."
He looked out the viewport at the city below.
"Alright," he said. "Guess I'll have to punch some robots tomorrow."