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God has won. He has placed all of humanity under his thrall.
Saitama doesn’t know what to do anymore.
It all began with the whispers from the entity known as God. Nobody was prepared for when the seal holding him back had silently finished breaking apart bit by bit, layer by layer, until everyone on the planet started to hear a voice in their heads, promises of a future without monsters, enthralling and enticing almost everyone. Humanity was so desperate for relief from constant monsters plaguing them they never thought to question whatever entity that spoke to them so. They were scared for their lives and rightfully so. They were overjoyed that someone named God was so benevolent that they could be free of monsters, forever.
There was only one caveat to these beguiling assurances.
Humanity must give him Saitama. The Abominable Fist that turned against God.
If fulfilled, God promised to everyone listening to his voice that he would free the planet of monsters forever. Because according to him, Saitama was the catalyst to monsters appearing on earth, so God would happily remove that stain for mankind and free them of their burdens.
And so, almost everyone in the whole world turned against Saitama. The hero Caped Baldy who had done so much for humankind and rid it of much evil became its malignant tumour that needed to be removed instead.
The pressure to give himself up started to become immense. There were leaflets, tv commercials, even people on the streets were shouting at him, trying to apprehend him and convince him to surrender to God’s tender mercies. They wanted him dead and buried and he was reviled by mankind far and wide, accosted on the streets and vitriol spouted at him. The supermarkets he frequented refused him entry and the restaurants he tried to go into kicked him out. Someone even threw a bottle at his head in anger. Then as a final nail in the coffin, his house at the Association was ransacked and vandalized. There was nothing left except his futon which nobody bothered to take.
Genos was furious with everyone and was only held back at Saitama’s behest. It wasn’t worth it, he said.
Nobody besides a select few like Blast and Sitch even thought to question this entity and only because they knew better. Everyone not in the know were not prepared for God entering their minds, whispering tempting promises and hypnotizing them with hope. They had made a terrible mistake in not letting people become aware of God and Saitama paid the hefty price.
Saitama had to flee Hero Association headquarters and seek refuge in the ruins of Z-city, his old home, before things got much worse. He was only glad Hero Association did not withhold his income, all thanks to Sitch and Sekingar pulling some strings, or so he heard from Genos. Small mercies.
Genos naturally followed him there, because he did not believe a word of what this God entity spewed out of its mouth and he was always loyal to Saitama and him only. But to Saitama, basically everyone barring a select few had become his enemy. Every civilian, every hero, they wanted him burned on a stake.
Saitama just couldn’t stomach it anymore and fled away from civilization. He was only glad that Genos was with him, his most trusted companion through thick and thin. Though he wondered if Genos would leave him someday too, because he betrayed his life to Garou when he mishandled the situation gravely and Genos paid the price.
He couldn’t bear to think such thoughts. Everything was falling apart and starting to hurt deep inside. He was at his breaking point.
Currently, Saitama is sitting in a makeshift living room that only has half a table left and his heart-decorated futon that he had snatched from his room in the Association before escaping with only the hero suit he’s wearing. There is no kitchen nor bathroom left in the dilapidated house and only a little bit of legroom to stand on. The moon’s light shines down through the patchy, hole riddled roof in a gentle, soft glow. Genos sits across from him on top of his thighs in seiza-position, pondering at their predicament.
“How are you feeling, sensei?” Genos asks cautiously.
Saitama looks down with bags under his eyes, not having slept all that well in weeks. “Been better…” He answers succinctly. The situation has been really taxing on his psyche.
“I can go get us some food, sensei. There should be a sale in the Q-city market at this moment, I can get us some meals.”
Saitama graces him with a weak smile. “Thanks but…I’m just not hungry.”
That statement worries Genos. Saitama loved food. That much he has gathered in his notebooks and his favourite food was hotpot. To deny food when he clearly hadn’t eaten well meant his mentality was truly shaken by the ordeal.
He needs to fix this.
“Sensei, I can still go quickly grab us readymade meals. It should only be an approximately 30 minute trip.” Genos makes his way to the futon and pats it. “Why don’t you rest in the meantime? You must be tired,” he suggests.
Saitama smiles wryly. “Look at you, mother hen.”
“There are no hens here sensei, do you require chickens or perhaps eggs? I can locate the nearest farm and—”
Saitama raises a hand to stop the incoming tirade. “Definitely not…look, I’m just not tired either.” Saitama sighs. “Not sleepy-tired anyways…I’m just dead on my feet.”
“But Saitama-sensei, you’re very much alive,” Genos states, confusion colouring his voice. He confirms this to himself by performing a scan on Saitama’s vitals, which are still within acceptable parameters, but he can detect some heart palpitations, sweatyness and pale skin. His master is definitely not alright, but he will keep monitoring his status.
“That’s just a saying for when you’re exhausted,” Saitama points out, exasperated.
“Right!” Genos exclaims and grabs a notebook out of nowhere to write into. Saitama groans through clenched teeth, far too used to his disciple’s antics. It just feels poorly timed to be writing in a diary at this time. He’s just too wired up to try sleeping anyway, mind too full of thoughts.
Sitting cross-legged, Saitama lets his arms fall to his lap. “I’m just tired of everything. I’ve done so much for this world already and this is how I’m repaid,” he says in a monotone voice. “I’ve killed so many monsters, saved the day so many times and still everyone wants the Caped Baldy dead,” he says his hero name with disgust, sighs and looks down forlornly.
“Blast and Sitch—”
“I said everyone,” Saitama snaps with uncharacteristic venom. He immediately regrets it, but his emotional regulation has been shot straight to hell after so many sleepless nights. He holds his head, a headache pounding between his temples since he woke up from way too short of a sleep that morning.
Genos purses his lips, troubled, putting away his notebook. “I’m also certain Tatsumaki does not think so—”
Saitama scoffs. “Likely. That midget doesn’t care about me that much.”
“Sensei,” Genos continues firmly and makes eye-contact despite Saitama’s eyes being downcast. “There are people out there who want to assist you,” he pleads his case.
Saitama blinks his weary eyes, saying nothing. He wants to believe it is true, but the situation at hand isn’t looking very promising. There is no way he can trust people that easily. Not anymore.
You are alone. Unwanted. It would be best if you gave yourself up. Free yourself of these mortal burdens.
“Shut up…” Saitama mumbles.
Genos looks at him sharply. “Who are you talking to?”
“Just myself…look Genos, it would be best if we separated for a bit until this thing blows over.”
“Absolutely not!” Genos exclaims, aghast that Saitama would even suggest such a thing.
“I can just throw you out,” Saitama sternly points out.
Genos’ eyebrows furrow and he looks hurt. “Why, sensei? Do you not want my assistance?”
Saitama has to pause and think. Didn’t he trust Genos? “Well, because…because—”
He wants to see the strongest man alive crumble. He is only after the secrets of your strength.
Saitama shakes his head to clear it, shutting his eyes tightly. “Forget it. I’ll just leave and you can’t come with me.” Saitama rises up from his sitting position and Genos immediately mirrors him.
“Sensei! You must not leave alone! Sacrificing yourself for a better future is not the answer!” Genos yells.
Saitama rebuffs him. “I can do whatever I want.”
Yes, you are the strongest man alive. Do not care about the tiny insect. Come to me.
Come.
Saitama’s smile is melancholic. “Sorry Genos, this is a goodbye.”
He disappears with a quiet woosh of his cape.
Genos looks around in distress, but cannot find his master anywhere in the vicinity. He pulls up his sensors to locate him on his bioscanner, yet comes up with nothing, meaning Saitama is already out of his range.
“SENSEI!”
His voice echoes futilely in the empty ruins.
Saitama wanders to the same place where he fought the weird earthworm tentacle-like monster and hops down into the crevasse, sliding all the way down the wall until he comes to the lazily bubbling lava pool that he once took a bath in and sees a staircase leading to an altar nearby.
The soot on the Aztec-like staircase disperses as he walks through with heavy steps, reaching a stone altar basin housed upon a pedestal meticulously carved to match a centipede monster-like form. A large mural depicting a rather large humanoid stands tall behind it, with lots of markings on the sides that he just cannot decipher. He surveys everything he can see with fatigued eyes.
The voice in his head insisted he come here, so he followed. It’s calling his name.
Besides…If the heroes run away, who is left to fight? If he’s not willing to engage this mysterious being, then who will?
‘My own statement may be the death of me,’ Saitama reflects.
The moon looms high up in the sky, illuminating the cavern in cold, eerie light.
Saitama never notices it hanging overhead ominously, watching his every move. Waiting patiently.
“I am here. Now what?”
You must stand on the altar, the voice immediately answers.
Saitama obeys the voice and steps onto the altar. He has nothing to lose anyway.
Something comes into clarity suddenly and he can read the odd symbolic text on the tall, majestic and worn looking mural on the wall. It’s like his brain has somehow expanded with new knowledge.
“Crossing the vast expanse of time, our god shall resurrect on this earth, when on this altar… a worthy sacrifice is offered,” he reads as if on autopilot. He blinks a little to comprehend what was just said, shaking off the cobwebs.
A sacrifice.
Of course, he already knew it.
And he could honestly care less. He’s too tired to fight anymore.
If what God said is true that he’s the reason why so many monsters are so magnetically attracted to places where he lives and appear in droves, then he’s the reason why monsters are being pulled into their world. He’s the reason for all the death and carnage monsters bring with them. Why so many people are homeless, hungry and hopeless.
It makes far too much sense when there are always monsters all around him.
He deserves to be a sacrificial lamb.
Yes, you deserve this. You’ve caused all this pain and suffering. You have become too strong.
Saitama slouches down and sits, taking a hold of his knees. Flexing his fingers into fists and back again, he looks at his open palms and finds only emptiness inside. He’s only glad Genos is not here to see this.
How his master crumbles down.
I can release you from your burdens. Give yourself to me and you will find only paradise in existence.
“A paradise sounds nice…” Saitama mumbles to himself in a dead tone.
You must only sacrifice yourself on this altar.
Saitama hugs his knees.
“Ok.”
Slit your wrists and let the blood flow freely.
“...”
Kill yourself.
Something breaks within Saitama.
“I can’t,” Saitama’s voice trembles as he answers shrilly, a few tears escaping unbidden. “I’ve tried.”
He tries to curl up into the smallest cocoon he can, holding himself and quaking.
Then allow me.
Something shifts and Saitama finds himself in a vast plane of flowers, as far as the eye can see. Fluffy clouds plot the clear blue skies overhead and Saitama is perplexed at the sudden shift from gloomy and dark cave into veritable lush landscape.
“Is this paradise? Am I dead?” Saitama asks and pinches his cheek. “Nope, still alive.”
“This is indeed paradise,” a sudden booming voice calls to him from behind.
Saitama sits up and turns. And faces a giant, grey humanoid looking monster, with vines and hair growing out of its body. To him, it honestly looks like it has shriveled up and died like some sort of ghoul.
“You are the voice…?” Saitama wonders.
“I am god. You are here to become my new vessel,” God announces itself and its intentions clearly.
Its voice has an echoing quality to it, like it resonates inside a bathroom. It’s somewhat familiar to Saitama, but he just cannot place it.
“What, no first date yet?”
God is not laughing. It has no visage to derive emotion from, only a blank slate.
Saitama’s facial expression turns more serious. “Ok, so you look like a monster to me, do I need to beat you up?”
“That would be unwise. You cannot defeat me and you would only release me from this prison.” God says imperiously.
“Well I can try, can’t I?” Saitama challenges. He’s still as powerful as ever, no chumps could hope to oppose him. Not even someone with the moniker of “God”.
God ignores him. “I can offer you a place in this paradise if you take my hand.” God offers his massive hand for Saitama to shake. “Then you needn't care about anything anymore. Your powers and life are forfeit.”
Saitama quietens down and thinks, really considering the offer. Heaven might not sound so bad after everything that’s been going on.
“Your friends will not miss you, you are already dead to them.”
Saitama gazes down, all life gone from his eyes. “Yeah I kinda got that.”
“Everyone on earth will be joyous to be rid of monsters forever. I can promise you that.”
There is a sickly sweet quality in his voice. Enticing and alluring like honey.
Saitama closes his eyes wearily. “Not sure if I believe you but ok…”
“Your sacrifice will not be in vain,” God says in a sympathetic tone.
Saitama looks at his open palms again. What and who is he to people anyway? Just a random person who calls himself a hero for a hobby. He’s a nobody honestly, not worth noticing, not worth caring about. A hero nobody knows.
Just another cog in the machine.
A tiny spark of thought interrupts him spiraling down.
“Genos…he’s…”
God harrumphs. “The cyborg is hardly worth your attention.”
“I just kinda left him there…” Saitama says, sadness colouring his tone. He fiddles with the zipper of his hero suit.
“Give yourself to me and you can forget him,” God says more forcefully.
Saitama ignores him completely. “I’m such a bad master, honestly.” Saitama’s countenance cracks with a tiny, self-deprecating grin.
“He betrays your trust even at this moment,” God’s voice seems to echo everywhere.
It is useless to plug his ears against such a loud noise. It’s like the voice is seeping through his mind, corrupting his very thoughts and he has to rub his temples, his pounding headache increasing.
“What do you mean?” He asks, miffed at having his monologue interrupted, like some sort of bad anime villain. He picks his nose out of bad habits and anxiety.
“He claims to be your disciple, but the only thing he seeks is the secrets of your strength. He does not trust you with anything and he only wants to steal your powers from you,” God says with authority.
“Genos would never do that…” Saitama denies, shaking his head.
“Even now he’s communicating with Blast to reseal this place so you can never escape.”
Saitama’s hands bunch into a fist. “Why would he—that’s not true, you’re lying.”
Suddenly a window through dimensions pops out of nowhere and he sees Genos and Blast deep in conversation within the Hero association headquarters. Genos looks agitated and Blast appears determined. He begins to hear the voices of both through the portal.
“We need to reseal the barrier right at this moment. Otherwise God will escape.”
“Saitama-sensei is currently there. We need to act fast.”
The window closes abruptly and Saitama is left bereft of Genos once again.
“They are plotting against you, to kill two birds with one stone. To seal us both here for eternity,” God states with the barest hint of mockery in his tone.
Saitama stands there, frozen.
Then bursts into hysterical laughter.
“HAHAHA, n-nice trick.” He says, his uncertainty betraying him.
“I simply showed you what is happening outside of this barrier. They are attempting to reseal me as we speak,” God retorts.
“No no no, you see…Genos would never ever let that happen. He’s a Cyborg for Justice. We’re master and disciple, been like that for so long. We go to sales together and fishing and festivals and—and…” Saitama babbles, eyes as wide as saucers.
Nothing seems to add up and he’s panicking. Genos would never betray him.
Would he?
God’s stare is intense even without eyes. “That mongrel does not care about you. He only craves power.”
Saitama shakes in place. Because God’s words are ringing true. Genos IS quite power hungry. Maybe Genos was only with him still because he needed the secrets of his strength that he wasn’t getting…
He tightly shuts his eyes. “It’s not right…he wouldn’t…”
God tilts its head. “Why would he not? He wants to stop evil as you do. There is no better opportunity to rid this world of all evil.”
God continues. “You attempted to destroy this world, only thwarted by Blast and his cronies. You are just as heinous as the rest of them.”
Something in the bald man tenses in defiance. “I just tried to—”
“You did not care for the consequences of your actions,” God interrupts him. “And your actions almost destroyed everything you hold dear.”
Saitama grows silent. “No, I didn’t care…”
“Genos died because of you,” the voice of God booms accusatorily.
The lotus field looks so nice and inviting, he could just lie down and relax until the end of time. Saitama’s heart constricts. He cannot deny anything.
“You managed to get everyone killed. Everyone around you died because of your lack of action.”
“Yes…”
“They are simply doing their heroic duty to rid this world of evil,” God states matter of factly.
“Yeah…” Saitama nods along.
God once again offers his hand. “Then let go of the cyborg and join me in this paradise.”
Let go.
The mere thought is unthinkable.
Saitama can’t hold back tears anymore. “But Genos is…he is…” Saitama chokes on his words, gritting his teeth, “my best friend.” He does not care for the few tears that run down his cheeks.
“He is NOBODY but someone who seeks your attention for vengeance. You know this.” God simply retorts.
Tears cloud Saitama’s vision as he minutely shakes his head, snot clogging his nose.
God leans in further, looming over Saitama. “A true friend would never allow you to leave and walk into your own demise.”
“You are nothing to him.” Its voice resounds with finality.
Saitama collapses. He holds himself and weeps.
It’s hopeless. Utterly and completely hopeless.
He just wants someone to hold him tightly. But there is no one anymore to hold him. He does not exist anymore. He is alone in the universe.
God stares at him in silence, offering his hand anew.
Eventually Saitama stops choking on his anguished tears and looks at the extended hand. His tear-streaked face shows no more emotions. A blank shell of a person of what he used to be.
“If I take this, will all this pain go away?” Saitama asks wishfully.
God nods. “Yes, I can promise you that.”
“Then, I suppose…”
Wiping his remaining tears away, he rises up and wearily looks at the large hand…then slowly, hesitantly, reaches out to it…and stops in his tracks, right hand wracked with tremors hovering in between.
He closes his eyes, shakily breathing in and out. Then he opens his eyes and reaches out again with purpose.
Heart racing in his chest, his breathing arrests for this singular moment.
God stands triumphant.
…
Until suddenly, something clamps down on his wrist.
“SENSEI! DON’T TOUCH HIM!”
Saitama startles and stares wide-eyed at the metallic hand holding his back, slowly turning to look at the owner of said limb.
“Sensei, everyone is here to help.”
Genos stands there, looking like a heroic movie star who arrived just in the nick of time. Saitama looks at his disciple on his right side in disbelief, eyes blown wide, then he hears more voices behind him.
There is a cacophony of noise, but Saitama can recognize most of them. He turns to look at the mass of heroes who had just appeared behind him.
“This is God. Be careful everyone,” Blast warns the heroes surrounding him. His crewmates are ready to fight at his command. Empty Void stands on his right, twin blades in preparation.
“Seems like we made it here just in time, phew,” Empty Void sighs in relief.
“All thanks to you, of course,” Blast smiles, taking off his sunglasses to have a better look at God.
“Don’t mention it, just doing what I can,” Void smiles back.
Tatsumaki floats in the air next to them. “This thing has everyone scared? Hmph, doesn’t look like much,” she haughtily comments, glowing green and preparing her psionic attacks. Fubuki, left from her sister, also prepares for a psychic battle, as does Psykos on her right side.
“This is god then? It shall fall to my superior techniques,” Flashy Flash says arrogantly as he draws his blade.
“My blade will make short work of it, I assure you won’t have anything left,” Atomic Samurai boasts and unsheathes his Sun blade too.
“That depends which one of us is faster,” Flashy Flash smiles self-assuredly, katana gleaming at the ready.
Kamikaze smirks. “Then leave something to cut for little ol’ me.”
“Ahem, we’ve come to save you Saitama,” King nervously calls out from between Zombieman, Amai-mask and Metal Bat, waving his hand. Zombieman grabs his twin pistols and twirls them, while Amai-mask stands at the ready, hand on his hip.
“How unsightly, how can something named ‘God’ be this ugly,” Amai-mask vainly sighs and cards a hand through his hair.
“You were pretty ugly as a monster too, you know,” Zombieman smirks.
Vein appears on Amai-mask’s neck. “I’m going to kill you after this.”
“Haha, feel free to try,” Zombieman shoots back.
Tank-Top Master cracks his knuckles and Superalloy Darkshine flexes his shiny muscles. Child Emperor’s backpack opens up, revealing an assortment of weaponry to be used. Puri-Puri Prisoner strikes a pose.
“The power of love will vanquish this evil monster from our midst!” Puri-Puri Prisoner shouts and makes a heart sign.
Metal Bat spits into his bat’s handle and clasps it tightly. “We got the whole gang here, we can destroy this thin’ no problem.”
Garou tsks. “We don’t need you here, loser.”
Badd glares at Garou. “What was that?”
“You want me to repeat that? Loooser,” Garou grins ferally.
Metal Bat’s eye twitches. “Fuck you.”
Standing right next to Garou, Bang sighs as his student bickers with the teen hero. “My bones are way too old for this.” His brother Bomb silently agrees.
In the background of everyone present, Metal Knight’s massive army of robots looms dangerously on standby, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
Saitama’s eyes roam over each and every person and he feels tears well up in his eyes. He never expected heroes to come back him up like this. He was alone in the universe and they swooped in like an angel chorus to save him.
He’s no longer alone in the darkness. His heart soars.
“Everyone…” His voice trembles from gratitude, tears freely running down his cheeks.
He turns to Genos, his knight in shining armor, who smirks. Nothing is a more welcome sight than the cyborg clad in his usual fashionable outfit of dark jeans and black sleeveless vest, the blue tinge of his core shining through his shirt. He’s so grateful to the cyborg for coming to his aid it physically hurts and he feels ashamed he doubted him in the first place. He’s no longer forsaken.
“Saitama-sensei, let us assist you. We will destroy God together,” Genos reassures him, clasping his palm properly into his.
“Hell yeah!” Saitama shouts and pumps his fist into the air, invigorated. Then he turns back to his enemy, who has been watching the proceedings closely.
Having retracted his hand, God readies a wide fighting position.
“Then so be it. Come, face your destiny, mortals. I will drag you into the abyss myself. Your lives will be forfeit,” it growls menacingly. The ground heaves under the weight of its massive being, scattering flowers into the wind.
Saitama grins fiercely, wiping his remaining tears away. Nothing God said or did could scare him anymore. “Not if I have anything to say about that.”
He too takes a battle stance, cape billowing while Genos points an arm cannon at his side, their hands still linked together.
The battle of their lifetime against God begins.