Victory is a strange thing. Usually, it comes with parades, cheers, and a sense of relief. But as the S.S. Discount descended through the clouds back to City Z, the atmosphere was thick. The alien fleet had fled, yes. But they hadn't fled because they lost. They fled because they saw something scarier than war.
They saw Earth. And they decided it was haunted.
Zombieman stood alone in the airlock, staring down at the city lights. He smoked a cigarette, the embers glowing in the dim light. His regenerative cells were itching. A deep, instinctual warning.
The door hissed open. Saitama walked in, carrying a towel.
"Hey," Saitama said. "You skipped dinner. Fubuki ordered pizza. Though I think Pig God ate most of the pepperoni."
Zombieman didn't turn. "Saitama. When you broke my limiter simulation... did you see anything?"
Saitama scratched his head. "Uh. I saw you screaming a lot. And Genus looking like a mad scientist. Why?"
"Because something saw me," Zombieman exhaled a plume of smoke. "When I was in that state... when I was dying a million times... I felt a gaze. Not God. Something closer. Something biological."
He turned, his red eyes serious. "I think my immortality... has a shadow."
Down in the sewers of City Z, the Undying Vessel began to walk. It didn't shuffle like a zombie. It moved with the lethal grace of a predator. It wore the tattered remains of a Zombieman trench coat, but its skin was translucent, showing muscles that pulsed with violet light.
It stopped at a junction. A monster—a stray Tiger-level giant rat—hissed at it.
The Vessel didn't attack. It opened its mouth. A tendril of shadow shot out, latching onto the rat. In seconds, the rat shriveled, dried up, and crumbled to dust. The Vessel grew slightly larger, its muscles denser.
It looked up at the manhole cover. Above, the city was celebrating. So much life.
The next morning, City Z was buzzing. Construction drones were putting the finishing touches on the new Hero Association Defense Tower (formerly Saitama's apartment block). A massive banner hung from the turrets: WELCOME HOME S-CLASS!
Saitama stood on his balcony, drinking tea from a mug that said #1 HERO (a gift from Mumen Rider).
"It's peaceful," he muttered.
"Don't jinx it," Genos said, scanning the perimeter. "My sensors indicate a 14% increase in ambient dread in the sector. The neighborhood dogs are hiding."
"Maybe Watchdog Man scared them," Saitama suggested. "Is he back to normal, by the way?"
"Mostly. He is currently chasing mail trucks in City Q to re-establish dominance. But his suit is still... stained."
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the street below.
People were screaming. Running.
Saitama sighed. "There goes the peace."
He jumped over the railing, landing softly on the pavement.
A crowd had gathered around a collapsed section of the street. In the center stood the Undying Vessel. It was holding a car over its head—not to throw it, but crushing it slowly with grip strength alone.
"Hey!" a B-Class hero, Needle Star, shouted. "Put the vehicle down! That's a Honda!"
The Vessel turned. It had no face, just smooth, grey skin where eyes should be.
"Hero," the Vessel whispered. "Bio-mass. Compatible."
It tossed the car aside and lunged.
Saitama intercepted. He caught the Vessel's wrist mid-strike.
"Hey," Saitama said. "No littering."
He looked at the creature. It felt familiar. The grip. The temperature.
"Zombieman?" Saitama blinked. "Did you lose a bet? Why are you naked?"
The Vessel paused. It tilted its head, sniffing Saitama.
Saitama hopped back. "Whoa. Definitely not Zombieman. He uses guns."
Genos landed beside him. "Sensei! Analysis confirms genetic match! 99.9% identical to Hero Zombieman! But cell structure is inverted. Instead of regenerating from damage, it consumes biological matter to maintain form."
"An Anti-Zombieman," Saitama nodded. "We really need to get better security on the cloning lab."
"Saitama!" The real Zombieman jumped down from a rooftop, landing hard. He leveled his twin heavy pistols—the Custom .500 Magnums—at his doppelganger.
"This one is mine," Zombieman growled. "It's my mess."
"You sure?" Saitama asked. "He looks bitey."
"I can handle it. He's a cheap copy."
Zombieman opened fire. BLAM BLAM BLAM.
Massive holes erupted in the Vessel's chest. The impact blew it backward into a building.
"Target down," Genos noted. "But regenerative factor is active."
The Vessel stood up. The holes in its chest didn't just heal; they filled with black, bubbling tar.
It opened its mouth unhinging its jaw, revealing rows of shark-like teeth. It spat a glob of acid at Zombieman.
Zombieman rolled, but the acid clipped his shoulder. His coat sizzled, his flesh melting. He gritted his teeth as his own healing factor fought the decay. "Acid rounds? Cute. Dr. Genus taught me that trick."
He switched mags. Explosive rounds.
He charged. He didn't shoot from distance; he closed the gap. He was immortal. He fought like it. He let the Vessel impale him on a bone-spike arm just to get the gun barrel against its head.
BOOM.
He blew the Vessel's head clean off.
Zombieman slid off the spike, his wound healing instantly. He kicked the headless body down. "Stay dead."
The body didn't fall. The headless neck bubbled.
Two heads grew back.
One laughed. One screamed.
"Mistake," Zombieman realized. "Damage accelerates it. It feeds on trauma."
The Vessel grabbed Zombieman. Its grip was iron. It began to absorb him. The two immortal regenerating monsters started to fuse, flesh melding together.
"Let go!" Zombieman roared, chopping his own arm off to escape. He scrambled back, one-armed, panting. "Saitama! Physical damage feeds it! We have to vaporize it completely!"
"Genos!" Saitama pointed. "Toaster mode!"
"Acknowledged!" Genos charged his core to maximum. "Spiral Incineration... Maximum Output!"
He unleashed a beam of hellfire. It enveloped the Vessel, turning the street into a tunnel of plasma. The creature screamed as it boiled.
But as the smoke cleared... it was still standing.
It was charred black, crisp like burnt bacon. But the ash was moving. Reforming.
"It adapted to heat!" Genos yelled. "Its cells evolved thermal shielding in microseconds!"
"Great," Saitama walked forward. "So punching it just makes it tougher, burning it makes it heat-proof, and shooting it makes it grow two heads."
He cracked his knuckles.
"This reminds me of Evil Natural Water. Annoying."
Saitama stood in front of the blackened, twitching monstrosity.
"If trauma feeds you," Saitama said. "Let's see if you can digest nothing."
He didn't punch. He grabbed the creature. Both hands.
"Serious Series: Serious Throw."
He lifted the Anti-Zombieman. He spun once. And threw it upward.
The creature broke the sound barrier instantly. Then the stratosphere. Then orbit.
Saitama watched it disappear into the blue sky.
"It feeds on biological matter," Saitama dusted his hands. "Let's see how much biology is in deep space. I'm betting zero."
Genos calculated the trajectory. "Sensei, you have thrown it into the sun."
"Even better," Saitama said. "Free cremation."
Zombieman leaned against a wall, his arm growing back painfully slowly. "You solved it. Again."
"It wasn't a puzzle," Saitama said. "It was just trash. And you take trash out."
High above in the blackness of space, the Undying Vessel drifted. It froze solid. Then, it began to burn as it approached the sun. It screamed in a vacuum where no one could hear. Its cells died, regenerated, burned, and died again. An eternal cycle of torment.
But as it burned, a signal leaked from its core. A distress beacon.
Far, far away... something answered.
A fleet of ships stopped in warp. They weren't alien. They were clean, white, angelic designs. The symbol of the Neo-Crusaders.
"The Vessel signals," a commander spoke. He wore power armor that glowed with holy light. "The planet resists God."
"Initiate Phase 4," a second voice commanded. "If the Vessel failed... deploy the Seraphim."
Back on Earth, Fubuki ran up to the trio. "Saitama! The Hero Association just declared an S-Class Emergency Meeting. They aren't arresting us. They're... asking for help."
"Help?" Saitama picked his nose. "Did they lose their keys again?"
"No," Fubuki looked grave. "Another gate opened. In the ocean. But monsters aren't coming out."
She held up a tablet showing a satellite image of the Pacific Ocean. A massive, golden city was rising from the depths. It wasn't Atlantis.
"People are emerging from it," Fubuki whispered. "They say they're from the future. And they say... they're here to save us from you."
Saitama squinted at the picture. "From me? But I'm the nice guy."
"In their future," Genos analyzed the data stream, "You are known as the Destroyer of Worlds. The One Punch Devil."
Saitama sighed deeply. "This PR stuff is really getting out of hand."
"We're going," Saitama said. "I want to ask future-me if he finally got a hair transplant."