The moment Lord Boros's ship vanished into the distant stars, becoming nothing more than a fading point of light against the cosmic backdrop, Beerus collapsed.
Not dramatically, not with any sense of theatrical flair, but simply... collapsed. His legs gave out beneath him, his body crumpling to the devastated ground of his ruined planet like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He lay there in the crater that had once been his favorite meditation garden, staring up at the fractured sky with an expression of complete and utter disbelief.
Whis floated down beside him, and for the first time in perhaps millions of years, the Angel's perpetual smile had vanished entirely.
"Lord Beerus," Whis said, and his voice was carefully controlled in a way that suggested he was putting significant effort into maintaining his composure. "Are you alright?"
Beerus did not respond immediately.
He simply lay there, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the kind of desperate rhythm that suggested he had pushed himself far closer to his limits than he had in a very, very long time.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.
"Whis."
"Yes, Lord Beerus?"
"I need you to tell me something."
"Of course."
Beerus's voice came out as barely more than a whisper, raw and hoarse and stripped of all the arrogance that usually defined it.
"Am I dreaming? Is this some kind of nightmare? Did I eat something bad and now I'm having a fever-induced hallucination?"
Whis considered the questions carefully before responding. "No, Lord Beerus. You are not dreaming. This is reality. Everything that just happened... actually happened."
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
Beerus continued to lie in the crater, making no effort to move, apparently content to simply exist in a state of horizontal existential crisis for the foreseeable future.
"He kept up with me, Whis."
"Yes, Lord Beerus."
"A MORTAL kept up with me."
"I observed that, yes."
"Not just kept up. He actually HIT me. Multiple times. With attacks that I actually FELT." Beerus's voice was rising now, taking on a slightly hysterical edge. "Do you understand what I'm saying?! He HIT me! He made me BLEED!"
Whis nodded solemnly. "I noticed the injury to your lip, Lord Beerus. It has already healed, of course, but—"
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"
Beerus suddenly shot upright, his eyes wild, his fur standing on end in a way that made him look less like the dignified God of Destruction and more like a cat who had just been dunked in cold water.
"The point is that a mortal—a being who should be INFINITELY beneath me—just gave me the best fight I've had in seventy million years! The point is that I wasn't holding back, Whis! Not at the end! I was using at least... at least..."
He trailed off, his expression becoming even more horrified as he calculated.
"At least sixty percent of my full power," he finished weakly. "Maybe more. And he was MATCHING me. In what he claimed was only his SECOND form!"
Whis's composure finally cracked.
The Angel's eyes widened, his staff nearly slipping from his suddenly trembling fingers. "Sixty percent? Lord Beerus, are you certain? That would mean..."
"That would mean his Released Form is approximately equal to sixty percent of my maximum output," Beerus confirmed, his voice hollow. "And that's not even his FINAL form. He has something called 'Meteoric Burst' that he said was significantly stronger than what he showed me."
The silence that followed was absolute.
For a long moment, god and angel simply stared at each other, the implications of what they had just witnessed slowly sinking in.
"He could defeat you," Whis said finally, and there was no accusation in his voice, no judgment, just the simple statement of a fact that both of them had been trying very hard not to acknowledge.
"HE COULD DEFEAT ME!" Beerus screamed, leaping to his feet and beginning to pace frantically across the devastated landscape. "A MORTAL! A random purple alien with one eye and a pillow obsession could potentially DEFEAT the GOD OF DESTRUCTION!"
"Technically, YOU were the one with the pillow obsession—"
"NOT THE TIME, WHIS!"
The Angel closed his mouth and waited patiently while Beerus continued his breakdown, watching the God of Destruction stomp back and forth across the ruins of his planet with an expression that might have been concern or might have been barely suppressed amusement.
It was hard to tell with Whis.
"How is this possible?!" Beerus demanded, whirling to face his attendant. "How can a mortal be this powerful?! It goes against everything—the natural order, the hierarchy of the cosmos, the fundamental laws of reality! Mortals don't get to be stronger than gods! That's not how this WORKS!"
"And yet," Whis said mildly, "here we are."
"HERE WE ARE!" Beerus threw his hands up in the air. "Here we are, with my planet in ruins—AGAIN—because I decided to spar with someone who shouldn't EXIST!"
He paused mid-rant, a new thought occurring to him.
"Wait. Wait wait wait." Beerus's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You KNEW, didn't you?"
Whis blinked. "Knew what, Lord Beerus?"
"You knew how powerful he was! When we first met him on Planet Vegeta, you sensed it too! You said his energy signature was 'unusual,' that he might be from outside our reality! You KNEW there was something wrong with him, and you still let me challenge him to a sparring match!"
The Angel's smile returned, though it had a distinctly sheepish quality. "I may have... suspected that Lord Boros was more powerful than he initially appeared. But I did not realize the full extent of his abilities until I observed your battle."
"YOU SUSPECTED?!" Beerus's voice reached a pitch that probably should have shattered glass. "You SUSPECTED and you didn't think to WARN me?!"
"In fairness, Lord Beerus, you were quite enthusiastic about the prospect of a fight. I did not wish to dampen your spirits."
"DAMPEN MY—" Beerus cut himself off, apparently too apoplectic to continue speaking. He stood there, trembling with a mixture of rage and fear and something that might have been grudging admiration, his tail lashing behind him like an agitated snake.
"Besides," Whis continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "would knowing have changed anything? If Lord Boros had wished to harm you, he had ample opportunity. Instead, he engaged in a friendly sparring match, accepted your victory gracefully—"
"I didn't WIN! We TIED! At BEST!"
"—accepted the stalemate gracefully," Whis amended, "and departed on good terms. He even agreed to bring you more pillows in the future. All things considered, I would call this encounter a success."
Beerus stared at his attendant with an expression of pure disbelief.
"A success. You would call this a SUCCESS."
"Yes."
"I just fought someone who could potentially kill me, discovered that the natural order of the universe is apparently meaningless, and had my entire worldview shattered into a million pieces, and you would call this a SUCCESS."
"You also acquired an excellent pillow," Whis pointed out. "And a potential ally."
Beerus opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again as the Angel's words sank in.
"Ally?" he repeated slowly.
"Consider the facts, Lord Beerus." Whis began to float in a slow circle around the God of Destruction, his staff tapping lightly against the ground as he moved. "Lord Boros is immensely powerful—potentially more powerful than you. He rules a significant portion of the galaxy and commands the loyalty of the Saiyan race. He has demonstrated that he is reasonable, capable of negotiation, and interested in maintaining peaceful relations with divine entities."
"He's also terrifying and his power makes no sense and I don't like him."
"Be that as it may, having such a being as an ally is infinitely preferable to having him as an enemy." Whis stopped his circling and fixed Beerus with a serious look. "If Lord Boros decided to oppose the divine hierarchy, to challenge the Gods of Destruction directly, what do you think would happen?"
Beerus was silent for a long moment.
"He would win," he admitted finally, the words seeming to cause him physical pain. "If he used that Meteoric Burst form he mentioned... he would probably win."
"Precisely. So is it not better to have him as a friend? To cultivate a relationship based on mutual respect rather than antagonism?"
"I'm the God of Destruction! I don't need FRIENDS! I need subjects and subordinates and beings who tremble at my presence!"
Whis raised an eyebrow. "And how is that working out for you?"
Beerus deflated slightly. "...It gets lonely sometimes."
"I know." Whis's voice softened, becoming almost gentle. "You have been alone at the top for a very long time, Lord Beerus. The other Gods of Destruction are rivals, not companions. The mortals you encounter are too weak to relate to, too fragile to engage with. You have spent millions of years with no one but me for company."
"You're very good company," Beerus muttered.
"Thank you. But even I cannot provide what you truly need—a peer. Someone who can understand what it means to wield power beyond comprehension. Someone who can challenge you, push you, make you grow stronger."
Beerus looked up at his attendant, and for once there was no arrogance in his expression, no bluster, no performative indifference. He looked old, suddenly. Old and tired and desperately lonely.
"You think Boros could be that?" he asked quietly.
"I think he already is." Whis smiled. "Did you not enjoy your fight? Was it not exhilarating to face an opponent who could actually test your limits?"
Beerus was quiet for a long moment, remembering the battle. The speed, the power, the pure THRILL of combat at its highest level. He had not felt that way in so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like.
"It was... fun," he admitted finally. "More fun than I've had in a very long time."
"Then perhaps this encounter was not the disaster you are making it out to be. Perhaps it was exactly what you needed."
Beerus considered this, his tail slowly ceasing its agitated lashing.
"Maybe," he said. "Maybe you're right."
Then his expression hardened again.
"But I'm still going to train! If Boros has forms beyond what he showed me, then I need to get stronger too! I refuse to be surpassed by a mortal, no matter how unusual he is!"
Whis's smile widened. "That is the spirit, Lord Beerus. Shall we begin immediately?"
"After a nap." Beerus's eyes were already drooping, the exhaustion from the fight catching up with him. "A very long nap. On my new pillow."
"Of course. But first, perhaps we should discuss the implications of Lord Boros's existence in greater detail? There are certain... concerns that I believe we need to address."
Beerus paused mid-yawn. "What kind of concerns?"
Whis's expression became serious again.
"Lord Boros's power does not conform to the normal patterns of our universe. His energy signature is fundamentally different from anything I have encountered in my existence. This suggests that he may indeed be from outside our reality, as I theorized when we first met."
"So? What does that mean?"
"It means," Whis said slowly, "that the rules that govern our universe may not apply to him. The divine hierarchy, the balance between creation and destruction, the fundamental laws that we take for granted—he may exist outside all of it."
Beerus's eyes widened as he grasped the implications. "You mean... even the Grand Priest...?"
"I do not know. That is what concerns me." Whis looked up at the stars, in the direction that Boros's ship had departed. "If Lord Boros is truly from outside our reality, then he represents something unprecedented. Something that even the highest levels of the divine hierarchy may not know how to deal with."
"Should we... should we report this? To the Grand Priest?"
It was a measure of how shaken Beerus was that he was even suggesting such a thing. The God of Destruction normally avoided contact with higher authorities at all costs, preferring to handle matters within his own domain.
Whis considered the question carefully.
"Not yet," he said finally. "We do not have enough information. And if Lord Boros is as powerful as he appears, drawing attention to him prematurely could have... unpredictable consequences."
"Unpredictable consequences. Great. Just what I needed."
"For now, I suggest we proceed carefully. Maintain friendly relations with Lord Boros. Observe him. Learn more about his origins and his capabilities. And above all, do not give him any reason to view us as enemies."
Beerus nodded slowly. "And if he does turn out to be a threat?"
Whis was silent for a long moment.
"Then we will deal with that situation when it arises," he said finally. "But I do not believe Lord Boros wishes us harm. His actions suggest a being who is content with his current existence, who is not seeking to expand his power or challenge the divine order."
"He seemed almost... relieved to find someone who could fight him," Beerus mused. "Like he had been waiting for a challenge for a long time."
"That may be exactly what he was waiting for." Whis nodded. "A being of his power would face the same isolation that you do, Lord Beerus. Perhaps even more so, given that he lacks the support structure of the divine hierarchy. He may have been alone, truly alone, for longer than we can imagine."
"That's... actually kind of sad."
"It is."
They stood in silence for a moment, contemplating the loneliness of absolute power.
"Fine," Beerus said finally. "We'll do it your way. I'll be nice to the terrifying purple alien who could kill me. I'll cultivate a 'friendship' or whatever. But I'm also going to train until I can beat him in a fair fight!"
"I would expect nothing less, Lord Beerus."
"And I want more pillows! If I'm going to be stressed out about the existence of a mortal who rivals my power, I'm going to need proper sleep support!"
"I will make a note to request additional bedding items from Lord Boros during our next meeting."
"Good. Now..." Beerus yawned again, his eyelids drooping. "Nap time."
He floated off toward the one building on his planet that had somehow survived the sparring match—his personal sleeping chamber, protected by barriers that even godly battles could not breach. The new pillow was waiting for him there, and Beerus intended to use it to its full potential.
Whis watched him go, his expression thoughtful.
When Beerus was out of sight, the Angel's smile faded entirely.
"Lord Boros," he murmured to himself, gazing up at the stars. "What are you, really? Where did you come from? And what does your presence mean for the future of our universe?"
The stars offered no answers.
But Whis had time.
He had all the time in the universe.
And he intended to use it to unravel the mystery of the being who had shaken the God of Destruction to his core.
There was something wrong with Lord Boros.
Not wrong in the sense of evil or malicious, but wrong in the sense of IMPOSSIBLE. His power should not exist. His energy signature should not be possible. Everything about him defied the fundamental principles that Whis had observed over billions of years of existence.
And yet there he was.
Existing.
Being impossible.
And apparently being quite good at it.
Whis tapped his staff against the ground, and the orb at the top began to glow. Information flowed into his mind—records, observations, data collected from across the multiverse. He searched through it all, looking for anything that might explain what Lord Boros was.
He found nothing.
Nothing in the divine records. Nothing in the archives of the Angels. Nothing in the observations of the Grand Priest or the memories of the Zenos.
Lord Boros was, as far as the highest authorities of existence were concerned, completely unprecedented.
"Fascinating," Whis murmured. "Absolutely fascinating."
He would continue to observe.
He would continue to gather information.
And if Lord Boros ever showed signs of becoming a genuine threat to the divine order...
Well.
That was a problem for another day.
For now, Whis had a God of Destruction to look after, a planet to repair, and a mystery to solve.
It was, he reflected, shaping up to be a very interesting era indeed.
Far away, on a ship traveling through the void between stars, Marcus Chen—who was still getting used to being Lord Boros—settled into his throne and allowed himself a small smile.
He had no idea that his existence was causing divine panic attacks across the cosmos.
He had no idea that beings far more powerful than Beerus were now aware of him, or soon would be.
He had no idea that his presence in this universe was creating ripples that would eventually reshape the very foundations of reality.
All he knew was that he had fought a god and survived.
And that was pretty cool.
"Nappa," he said, and the young Saiyan snapped to attention immediately.
"Yes, my lord?"
"When we return to the empire, I want you to begin compiling a list of the strongest warriors in the known galaxy. Anyone with a power level above ten thousand. Anyone who has been reported to possess unusual abilities. Anyone who might be... interesting."
Nappa's eyes widened. "My lord? Are you... are you looking for opponents?"
Marcus's smile widened.
"I am looking," he said, "for challenges."
The Saiyan nodded rapidly, clearly not fully understanding but eager to please. "Yes, my lord! I will begin immediately!"
As Nappa hurried off to carry out his orders, Marcus turned his gaze to the stars streaming past the viewport.
Somewhere out there, Goku was waiting to be born.
Somewhere out there, the events of Dragon Ball were waiting to unfold.
And Marcus—Lord Boros—was going to be right in the middle of all of it.
The universe had no idea what was coming.
And honestly?
Neither did Marcus.
But he was looking forward to finding out.