The Moon.
Boom.
Eden punched through the atmosphere with Battle Beast clamped in one hand by the throat, a sonic bloom screaming in their wake. They slammed into the barren regolith like a falling star. Under satellite eyes, the lunar surface visibly shuddered. Twice. Then a third time.
"Rrraagh!"
Battle Beast writhed, back blazing with pain. He snapped his jaws wide to roar and lunged for Eden's shoulder, fangs bared.
"Pathetic."
Eden slipped the bite, pinned the lion beneath him with one hand, and brought the other down in a brutal rain of punches. Blood burst free and, in the weightless drift, spattered the vacuum like a red nebula.
He didn't stop at fists. Crimson Heat Vision flared, raking Battle Beast's face in a savage, surgical sweep.
Earth.
Global Defense Agency.
"Jesus."
"This kid's vicious."
"I'm not sure which of them is the supervillain right now."
Cecil Stedman watched the lunar feed, knuckles white on the console.
"What do you even call that—spot-welding a face?" He flinched as Eden kept one hand on the throat, the other pistoning strikes while his Heat Vision carved lines across the lion's features. Cold sweat beaded at Cecil's temple. The style was… merciless.
"Compared to this, Eden's father—Clark Kent—is a benevolent god," he muttered. Seeing Eden cut loose put things in perspective. Superman—Clark Kent—was lauded as the ideal. Not because he couldn't break monsters. Because he wouldn't, not all the way. The thing that beat Superman wasn't raw power. It was the moral line he refused to cross.
"Hnh?"
Right as Cecil reconsidered what "Kryptonian" really meant, the tide shifted—Battle Beast hammered a kick into Eden's chest. The impact hurled Eden like a shell, blasted him off the Moon and down toward Earth in a streak of black.
Vmm.
He arrested his fall a hundred meters above the ground, bleeding off every ounce of momentum until he just… stopped.
"You're stronger than any Battle Beast I faced in the Simulation," Eden said, glancing up at the Moon. Then he blurred—gone—rocketing skyward.
…
On the Moon, after launching Eden away, Battle Beast finally stole a breath. He staggered up out of the fractured crater, vomited blood and bits of viscera, and spat shattered teeth into the void. He ripped the ruined armor off his body, snatched up a broken cleaver drifting nearby, and fixed his burning gaze on Earth.
He couldn't fly. Didn't need to. He crouched. Toes kissed regolith. The lunar crust spiderwebbed—and he kicked off hard enough to cross the black, riding recoil and rage along Eden's trail.
Earth.
Ten thousand meters up.
"Die!"
"Viltrumite!"
Battle Beast dropped from the heavens like a war god, cleaver raised, aiming to split Eden in two.
"You first."
"Battle Beast!"
Eden knifed up from the cloud deck to meet him head-on.
Boom.
Lion and demi-god collided in the stratosphere. The shockwave tore a hole in the air; a pressure ring rippled outward, scouring a corridor of vacuum for miles.
Skkkzz—
Global Defense Agency.
The moment both fighters went all-out, Cecil's monitors fuzzed and died.
"Donald!"
"Now. I need eyes. What just happened?"
Donald Ferguson thumped the console once, twice—hard.
Vmm.
The feed snapped back. Battle Beast's cleaver was buried in Eden's right shoulder, wedged against the scapula. Eden, in turn, had ripped Battle Beast's left arm clean off.
Advantage: Eden.
"Screw you."
Eden yanked the broken blade from his own shoulder and, in the same motion, lopped the lion's tail. He drove a piledriver punch into Battle Beast's gut, spiking him away like a kicked ball.
Boom.
The hit launched Battle Beast hundreds of kilometers in an instant. Eden was faster. He was there first—then behind—and he stamped a boot between the lion's spine and hips.
The waist snapped.
"Rrraaaa—"
The scream tore out of Battle Beast, raw and animal.
He didn't get to finish it. Eden's hand found his throat again, and they burned for the stars.
Deep space.
They hung in silence, eyes locked, predator to predator. No air. No sound. Only the hatred.
"It ends here, Battle Beast."
"I'll skin you and wear you home," Eden mouthed, slow and clear. "Your pelt—the centerpiece. Like the heads you took from every species you butchered."
"Kill me?"
"Ridiculous."
Battle Beast bared his fangs in a blood-slick grin, reading the words. He shaped his own reply: "Your skull goes deepest in my vault. Proof. The strongest prey I've ever hunted."
Eden's answer was a breathless laugh. No sound. All promise.
Then lightning.
He flashed forward and smashed a fist across the lion's jaw. Battle Beast swung back on instinct—left hand—only to remember, a heartbeat too late, that Eden had severed the entire arm.
The next punch landed clean. Then another. Eden's right arm stuttered from the shoulder wound, the motion ugly and stiff, but two hands beat one—every time.
Global Defense Agency.
Cecil and Donald watched in stark, horrified quiet as Eden dismantled the universe's most relentless gladiator. "Watched" was generous. It was a one-sided mauling.
Thirty minutes later, the hunt ended.
Battle Beast—who had chased power across galaxies and called himself invincible—went still under Eden's fists. Eden worked in silence until there was no more fight left, then shook out a cape of white lion hide across his shoulders.
"…He won," Cecil said at last, voice low. "Eden won."
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"...Hah."
After finishing Battle Beast, Eden didn't rush back to Earth. Instead, he stretched out on the moon's surface and finally let out a long breath.
He glanced at the pale lion lying beside him, disbelief still sharp in his eyes. Battle Beast... actually dead?
Defeating him inside the Simulation was one thing. Beating him in reality—feeling the blood, the weight, the silence—that was something else entirely.
"Doesn't matter. I won."
He steadied his breathing, floated into open space, let the sun knit his torn shoulder back together, and dragged the lion's body home.
Global Defense Agency
"He won!"
"Yes!"
"Break out the champagne, boys!"
"Earth's safe!"
Agents all around Cecil burst into cheers, slapping hands and yelling Eden's name like it was a victory chant.
"That lion... was supposed to be the second-strongest in the universe?" Cecil muttered, still staring at the corpse. His tone was disbelief, not denial.
Robot flicked through a tablet stacked with readouts. "Judging from the energy spikes during their fight, Battle Beast could've cracked planets apart. He was above any known Earth metahuman, and stronger than Omni-Woman on an average day. The numbers track. He really was the second-strongest."
"I'm not saying I don't believe it," Cecil replied slowly. "I just can't wrap my head around Eden winning so easily."
The unspoken question hung between them—if Eden had killed that, did that make him the strongest living thing in the universe?
Robot didn't answer. Cecil didn't press.
"Either way," Cecil said finally, "throw a damn party. Our hero's coming home."
"Congratulations!"
"Welcome back, Eden!"
"Hell yes, Superman's kid!"
The moment Eden stepped back onto Earth, the GDA rolled out the red carpet. Cheers, clapping, backslaps—it felt like a ticker-tape parade.
"What the hell, why does this feel like an EVA episode?" Eden muttered, tossing Battle Beast's body down in front of Cecil. "Do me a favor. Make a coat out of him. I promised the bastard I'd keep fighting in his hide. It's the least I can do to honor his obsession."
Cecil stared at the corpse, the sheer pressure of it still making the air heavy. He hesitated, then gave a curt nod. "Fine. Assuming our blades can even cut through that hide."
"They can," Eden said, nodding once.
After a short round of celebration, he slipped away and headed back to the Kent Residence. His parents should've been home by now.
Meanwhile, the Guardians had rounded up the Mauler Twins again, the second squad had flattened the Lizard League, and Nolanne herself had forced Liu Lao-tou's dragon form back into the shadows.
Everything seemed... stable. For once.
Machine Head Tower
"My beloved boss!" Machine Head sputtered, his voice a static-laced whine. "Why'd you kill off all those mercenaries I blew a fortune on?!"
Eden's eyes narrowed. "What, you think I need to clear moves with you now?"
"No, no, of course not," Machine Head stammered, hands up. "It's just... they were meant for Omni-Woman, remember? You take them out, who's supposed to handle her?"
Eden chuckled darkly, and in a blink he was in Machine Head's face, one hand closing around his throat. "Listen carefully. If I ever hear anyone in the Order even thinking about going after my mother... you won't have to worry about mercenaries again. You'll be dead."
The truth was, Eden wasn't worried about them actually hurting Nolanne. None of them—Liu included—stood a chance. What scared him was Machine Head's talent for hiring unknown monsters from across the stars. That was a liability he couldn't afford.
"I-I get it, boss!" Machine Head choked out. "Please, just spare me this once—I'm already half-scrap!"
"This is your only warning." Eden finally let go, his voice flat.
Machine Head sagged in relief, muttering bitterly to himself: He told me to hire them... now he blames me for hiring them. What kind of gig is this?
"Remember what happens if you cross me again," Eden said coldly, his voice echoing through the tower. "Tell the others too. Your lives are mine to take whenever I choose."
And then he vanished.
Machine Head sighed, the sound full of static. He had no choice but to endure.
Kent Residence
"Family issues next," Eden muttered. "No avoiding it. A fight with Mom is inevitable. Maybe Thragg. Maybe the entire Viltrumite Empire."
He called up the System with a thought. Simulation.
When in doubt, fight it out. That was how he'd built every ounce of strength he had.
Sometimes, he wished he could just shout 'Blue points, max me out!' and be done with it. But life didn't work that way.
Three days later.
He spent them preparing. Training. Sharpening. Not for a duel with Thragg, not even for another Battle Beast. For an army. For Viltrum itself. He knew his people well enough—reasoning wouldn't work until he proved strength beyond question.
That morning, Nolanne and Clark finally came home from Hawaii.
"Eden! Look who's back!" Clark called, dropping a pile of luggage at the door. "It's been over a month—did you miss us?"
"Don't blame us for the delay," Nolanne added, juggling shopping bags with a grin. "Your dad won big at a bonfire raffle. All-expenses-paid extension. We couldn't say no."
They looked like tourists stumbling off a cruise, arms full of gifts for their son. Pure, unshakable affection in every package.
Eden drew in a long breath. Then another. His eyes hardened as he walked down the stairs, step by step, until he stood before them.
"Mom," he said quietly. "We need to talk."
Nolanne blinked. "What?"
Eden's lips thinned. "I awakened my superpowers."
Cards on the table. No more pretending.
"What did you just say?" Nolanne froze. The bags slid from her arms, unnoticed—Clark caught them before they hit the floor.
Eden sighed once, heavy. And then—
He rose off the ground.
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