The silence of the battlefield still lingered, broken only by the faint hum of residual energy from Veldora's unleashed storm. Yet Saiki had already vanished, slipping away unseen like a whisper in the wind. The vast empty land dissolved into nothingness, and in the blink of an eye, Saiki stood in a place where no mortal could ever hope to tread—the Realm of Veldanava.
It was a space without horizon, without limit. Galaxies hung suspended like ornaments, their light soft and eternal. Infinite rivers of stars flowed across the void, weaving into patterns no mortal mind could comprehend. Planets were born in silence and faded into dust within breaths, yet here, time had no meaning. Everything shimmered with a brilliance that was not light, but existence itself.
At the center of this realm, sitting upon a throne that seemed sculpted from eternity itself, was Veldanava, the Supreme Creator. His presence was neither heavy nor overwhelming—it was warm, like sunlight on skin, like the breath of life itself. He carried the weight of the cosmos with ease, his smile gentle, yet behind it was the unfathomable depth of an all-knowing being.
Veldanava's golden eyes softened as they landed on Saiki, as though he had been expecting him all along.
Veldanava: "Welcome back, Saiki. You have done well."
His voice echoed through the realm—not loud, but absolute. Every vibration carried meaning, every syllable a resonance that shook through the fabric of creation.
Saiki, though calm and casual in demeanor, bowed his head slightly in respect. Unlike others, he was not shaken in the presence of divinity, but even he could not ignore the radiance of Veldanava's existence.
Saiki: "I only nudged things along. Veldora did the real work. He fought, he struggled, and he grew. And more importantly, he understood."
Veldanava leaned back slightly, resting his chin upon his hand, studying Saiki's expression with amusement.
Veldanava: "Indeed. I watched every moment of his clash with Vorathis. The way he fought with not only power, but with restraint, with consideration for his allies… it is rare to see Veldora fight seriously, and yet, he tempered his strength with wisdom."
Stars flickered brighter in the distance, almost as though responding to Veldanava's approval.
Saiki: "He needed that test. Vorathis was never meant to be his enemy, not truly. He was the mirror Veldora had to face—the embodiment of unchecked strength. And through that, Veldora realized that while raw power can shape the world, it cannot define its future. That's why I told him what I did."
Saiki's expression softened, uncharacteristically serious.
Saiki: "If this world continues to chase nothing but strength, it'll collapse into endless cycles of destruction. But if they learn to value knowledge, creativity, and compassion as much as battle—then maybe they'll reach heights even beyond what evolution and skills can give."
For a moment, silence filled the realm, though it was not emptiness—it was as if the universe itself paused to listen. Then, Veldanava chuckled softly, his smile widening.
Veldanava: "You sound almost like me in my younger days."
Saiki raised an eyebrow at that.
Saiki: "I'll take that as a compliment. Though I doubt anyone could really compare to you."
Veldanava shook his head slowly, eyes shimmering like suns.
Veldanava: "You underestimate yourself, Saiki. Few could speak so plainly in my presence. Few could see the truth as you do. Veldora passed the trial, yes—but it is your words that will echo within him long after. You have planted a seed, and one day, it will bloom."
Saiki gave a faint smirk, scratching the back of his head.
Saiki: "Maybe. Or maybe he'll just keep picking fights until the end of time."
Veldanava laughed, a deep, gentle sound that rippled across galaxies.
Veldanava: "Perhaps. But even in his storms, there is wisdom now. And that is enough."
Behind them, the cosmic rivers swirled, birthing new constellations. Veldanava's expression grew thoughtful, his gaze distant yet focused.
Veldanava: "The world has always leaned on power, Saiki. Yet if what you say is true… if the weak are given the chance to flourish without fear of annihilation, then perhaps this world may truly evolve into something even I never envisioned."
Saiki crossed his arms, his voice calm but carrying weight.
Saiki: "That's the real trial. Not just for Veldora. For everyone. Power can protect, but only vision can guide. And if this world can discover a new kind of strength… then maybe it won't need gods to keep fixing its mistakes."
Veldanava's smile returned, but this time it was softer, almost paternal.
Veldanava: "You speak as though you are not one of them… and yet, you care deeply."
Saiki didn't answer right away. He only glanced up at the endless galaxies swirling above them, his eyes reflecting their infinite light.
Saiki: "Someone has to."
The cosmos was quiet, as though it too waited for Saiki's next move.
Saiki: "It was a pleasure, Veldanava. But now I must take my leave."
His voice was calm, carried with no weight of pride nor fear, just the truth of someone who had already decided.
Veldanava, seated upon his throne woven from eternity itself, inclined his head. His smile was warm, almost fatherly.
Veldanava: "Very well, Saiki. Go and keep guiding them to the right path. Even gods cannot walk every road… but perhaps you can show them where strength alone cannot."
Saiki gave the smallest smirk, tilting his head ever so slightly. It wasn't arrogance—it was his way of saying "I'll manage."
Then it happened.
A hum vibrated across the realm, but it wasn't sound—it was the shiver of existence. Saiki lifted two fingers to his temple, and in that instant, the infinite fabric of time bent backward like a page being turned.
Veldanava's eyes widened. For one who existed outside of time, unaffected by its rise and fall, to feel the current reverse was impossible. And yet, Saiki was doing it—casually, with no strain, as though it were nothing more than rewinding a tape.
The galaxies halted in their spirals. Starbirths reversed into collapsing clouds. Civilizations unraveled silently, their lights fading back into the abyss. The River of Eternity itself bent under Saiki's will, flowing upstream.
Veldanava (softly, astonished): "…Incredible. Even I, untouched by time, can sense its reversal. Saiki Kusuo… you are not merely a psychic. You are a force that even gods must respect."
Saiki didn't answer. His violet aura pulsed once, the divine shimmer surrounding him intensifying. His body was still, his eyes calm—but reality itself obeyed.
Illusions of battle faded. Hours compressed into moments. Days twisted into seconds. The Cardinal World slipped away as though it had only been a dream.
And then—
darkness.
The endless cosmos collapsed into a blink, and suddenly—
a familiar ceiling.
The hum of a fan spinning lazily. The faint glow of his desk lamp. The ordinary clutter of his small Japanese bedroom. Posters, books, half-eaten snacks.
Saiki blinked once. The psychic aura vanished completely, leaving behind only the boy lying in his bed in a quiet suburban neighborhood of Japan.
He exhaled lightly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Saiki (muttering): "…Back to this again."
And then—
"Kusuo! Your friends are here looking for you!"
It was his mom's cheerful voice, cutting through the quiet like a burst of sunshine.
Saiki sat up, blinking. For a moment, the clash of titans, the storm of gods and demons, the lecture he gave Veldora—all of it pressed at the edge of his memory. He had lived through days, maybe weeks, maybe even longer. Yet as he glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, only a couple of hours had passed since he left for the Cardinal World.
Saiki (internally, sighing): "So much for catching a break. I just fought alongside dragons, outmaneuvered a god-slaying illusionist, and reversed time itself… and now, I'm about to be dragged into Nendou's nonsense again. Typical."
From downstairs, his mom called again, her voice sing-song and oblivious.
"Kusuo! Hurry up before they come in here!"
Saiki swung his legs off the bed, adjusting his pink antenna suppressors. For a brief second, his gaze lingered on his hands—hands that had just bent eternity like clay. Then he stuffed them in his pockets, face blank as ever.
Outside his window, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Ordinary. Peaceful.
And yet, the multiverse whispered of his power.
Veldanava, far beyond comprehension, sat in silence, smiling faintly.
Veldanava (to himself): "Even after everything… he returns to live as just a boy. Perhaps that is the greatest wisdom of all."
Back in Japan, Saiki opened his door, stepping into the noisy reality of friends who would never know just how far he had gone, nor how much he had done.
To them, he was still just Saiki Kusuo.
But somewhere in the deep folds of the cosmos, gods and kings would forever remember the psychic who rewound eternity.
Yare yare....