Chronoa could feel Levos changing, and the wonder in her eyes was plain.
He carved out a pocket realm that big? That's… absurd.
"You… you're still not done? How much longer?"
Levos shook his head. "No idea. There's still more than half of them left to absorb."
"More than half?" Chronoa was floored. Then her tone snapped taut. "If that much energy remains, this gets dangerous. We have to hurry those Demon Gods sealed in the temporal rift must not break loose!"
"Got it. I'll accelerate!"
He flared Kaiō-ken to the limit. Scarlet aura washed half the sky.
Whooooom Space twisted; supercharged by Kaiō-ken, Levos' absorption rate spiked. Tides of power poured into him and, guided by his and Chronoa's divine power, streamed straight into the pocket realm he'd opened. The realm ballooned even faster, to the point Levos could no longer guess its size.
"No this is too big!" Chronoa's voice edged with alarm. "A pocket realm isn't about size alone. It must be reinforced. If it collapses, that's a disaster of its own."
Levos frowned; he'd sensed the same danger. "What do we do?"
"I'll inject Time Power to slow its internal flow. That buys you time to shore up the walls."
"I'm on it."
"I'll help as much as I can!"
Golden light burst from Chronoa, lancing through the void and into the pale realm. Levos felt its growth ease. He immediately began knitting the pocket realm's frame.
Minute by minute, the time inside slowed nearly to a standstill and the structure thickened, tightening like plate upon plate. Relief softened Chronoa's face.
"At last it's sturdy. Once you've bled off enough energy, you can stop anytime."
"Thank you, Chronoa," Levos said, sincerely.
"No need. I burned a lot just now; I need a moment to stabilize my divinity."
Her aura flickered and the elegant sorceress snapped back into a pint-sized, hands-on-hips loli. Levos couldn't help the sense of whiplash.
Just then, the Darklings who'd slipped the net realized something was wrong. They clustered fast, readying another round of Potara fusions.
A blinding halo pulsed off Levos and condensed into a towering silver-gray phantom the spitting image of Perfect Cell Max, magnified to spear heaven and earth. Levos stood within its chest like a pilot in a divine mech.
He exhaled a long, cold thread of breath. The God-route just advanced.
This branch is tied to time, space, creation… even rules themselves. But…
I still don't have godly techniques, and this flesh is mortal. I can only shape the divinity outside, as a colossal avatar this is the form.
It's incomplete absorbing Darklings fills only half the stage. Still… I'll take it. I can't stack Kaiō-ken with this, but a phantom spun from godly ki won't be weak.
The Darklings' second fusion wave ignited white flashes, power spires stabbing the vault. Levos didn't bother to count. He simply swept his right arm.
The colossus mirrored him, drawing back a mountain-breaking fist and striking.
Reality tore where the punch passed. In an eye-blink the enormous fist shadow crossed the battlefield and fell among the Darklings. Their faces snapped white then the gale locked them in place.
BOOM.
Bodies burst like fruit under a hammer.
Levos wasted nothing. A turn of his palm, and the torn flesh whirled back to him, vacuumed into the waiting tail.
"Terrifying," Chronoa breathed.
"This is only the start," Levos said evenly.
He didn't let up. The phantom blurred gray-white through the sky. Blood-mist flowered in violent blossoms, then vanished as Levos drank it down feedstock and catalyst for Cell Max's evolution.
Panic cracked the Darklings' voices.
"Impossible!"
"How can a mere mortal wield divine power?!"
Levos saved his breath for punching. One blow, one kill especially targeting any pair mid–Potara reach.
Those trying to fuse froze up, eyes dull with indecision.
"What are you waiting for?" Levos couldn't resist needling them. "Fuse."
"Enough!" Teeth ground like gravel. "Our plan is flawless!"
Red-eyed, they jammed Potara earrings on again.
Levos deliberately gave them a few seconds then glanced at the other front. With Piccolo and Buu anchoring, no casualties on their side. Only a dozen scattered Darklings were still resisting, locked with Earth's fighters.
Thanks to Ginyu's hustle, the Saiyan Masked Super Task Force had just undergone a full upgrade: its four members had secured new bodies Hit, Cell, Frieza, and Majin Buu. Even so, Levos clicked his tongue.
"Sorry, Vice-Captain Ginyu. I'm going to work you a little harder."
His gaze skimmed the field and settled. Decision made.
You four.
Levos moved lightning-quick. Somewhere along the way, he'd already cleaned out the fused Darklings' cordon.
Moments later, four battered fusion-types thudded at Ginyu's feet.
"Their growth ceilings are enormous. Great utility kits, too and each is an upgrade to what you're running now."
Ginyu's face tightened with feeling. "Lord Levos… I can't believe how well you treat me. I once stole your body my sins are heavy."
The phantom behind Levos faded. His voice was mild. "I pegged you and those three as promising from the start. Besides… this is all fate's arrangement."
Ginyu, Shaviza, Dre, and Nez bowed with solemn fists. "Lord Levos, we swear our lives to you."
"And your captain?" Levos blinked.
Ginyu hesitated, then chose the truth. "He… hasn't earned our recognition yet."
"In raw potential," Levos said, "your captain will surpass you all one day."
And if they won't follow orders, he thought, I'll end it now…
"Lord Levos, our respect isn't just about strength," Ginyu said.
"Oh?" Levos' curiosity stirred.
"That battle-dance you showed in West City you haven't forgotten, have you? 'Saiyan Masked Super Task Force' clearly means something to you. That captain's seat should be yours. How can it go to someone else?"
Levos saw black for a heartbeat. Can we not have this conversation right now?
"Save it. Switch. Now."
"Yes, Lord Levos!"
Orange light strobed, one cascade after another.
In short order, the Task Force hit a mythic power spike:
Ginyu = Hit + Jiren
Jeice = Cell + Majin Buu
Burter = Frieza + Majin Buu
Recoome = Cell + Frieza
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