Merno and Enchantress emerged from the pocket dimension into the Abyss, where the oppressive darkness pressed against them like a living entity. Merno moved with unhurried grace, his staff loose in one hand, while Enchantress stayed close, her newly stabilized essence humming with restrained power.
They had barely crossed a fraction of the void when Merno halted, his golden eyes narrowing. A vast, formless presence brushed the edges of his awareness—ancient, ravenous, impossibly hungry.
The Phantom Sovereign.
Its attention snapped onto them, a cold, devouring pressure that would have shattered lesser beings. Merno did not flinch. He stilled completely, tilting his head with mild curiosity as the Sovereign gathered before them—a swirling vortex of shadow and jagged, ever-shifting silhouettes that seemed to consume light itself.
Its countless maws pulsed as it examined him in silence, probing the layered depths of his existence. Then, a low, rasping whisper slithered through their minds:
"…You… different… too many layers… cannot devour… yet…"
Merno watched it for a long moment, then lazily twirled his staff in a smooth, effortless arc. "Interesting," he murmured. "So this is what crawls out when the Grand Presence's laws begin to fray."
The Sovereign did not hesitate.
It struck with calculated cunning—several shadowed tendrils lashing toward Enchantress in a blatant attempt to siphon her stabilized soul. At the same instant, two thinner, nearly imperceptible filaments slipped toward Merno, carrying a writhing parasitic seed meant to burrow into his essence and corrupt it from within.
Merno's expression shifted.
Calm gave way to cold, seething fury.
"…Intruders… strong essence… belongs… to the void…"
The Sovereign surged forward, committing fully to both attacks.
Merno moved.
In a single, fluid motion, he raised his staff and unleashed a devastating surge of celestial force. It cleaved the Phantom Sovereign cleanly in half, obliterating its assault in the same instant.
A deafening psychic shriek tore through the Abyss—
"PAIN…! BETRAYAL…!"
—its colossal form unraveling as shadows fractured and screamed into the void.
Before the halves could reform, Merno spoke.
One word.
A complex, blazing sigil of golden light erupted across the Sovereign's fractured being, searing deep into its conceptual core and binding it to his will.
"You will still grow," Merno said, his voice calm, edged with quiet authority. "Your hunger is endless, after all. But I have hijacked your ascent. You may continue to devour and spread chaos across the Abyss… yet should you ever attempt to consume anything that belongs to me—anything at all—you will not live long enough to regret it."
He stepped closer, staff glowing faintly.
"You are no threat to me. Bare your fangs again, and I will crush you myself—reduce you to nothing and force you to begin again. This pond is far larger than you realize, little fish. Learn restraint… or the next time will be your last."
The Phantom Sovereign recoiled, its fractured essence writhing under the weight of the curse—and Merno's divinity.
Merno turned away without another glance, motioning for Enchantress to follow. They continued toward the distant threshold of the 21st Universe as the Sovereign's remnants slowly began knitting themselves back together behind them.
Enchantress cast one last look over her shoulder before turning to him, open surprise in her eyes. "What… was that thing? You tore it apart like it was nothing. And that curse—why bind something like that instead of destroying it?"
Merno didn't slow, his staff resting lightly against his shoulder. "A natural consequence of the Grand Presence's laws degrading. When order weakens, voids like that emerge to fill the vacuum—conceptual predators born from decay itself."
He continued, almost idly.
"It will take a very long time before it grows strong enough to threaten beings on my level. I possess countless layers of existence—each reinforcing and transcending the last. Even the common riffraff gods—the so-called Apex Combat Gods—are little more than sustenance to it."
She frowned, absorbing that. "It tried to take me. Could it have succeeded if you weren't here?"
Merno gave a small, indifferent shrug. "It would not have even noticed you. To the Phantom Sovereign, you are far beneath even those lesser gods—background essence drifting through its domain. Devouring you would have been effortless. I doubt it would have registered the act at all."
He glanced at her briefly. "Your stabilized soul might have delayed it for a moment or two. Nothing more."
She hesitated, then asked more directly, disbelief threading her voice. "Do you… actually have layers of existence yourself?"
Merno laughed—low, genuine, and edged with superiority. "Finally asking the right questions."
"Yes. Countless layers. Each one reinforcing and surpassing the last. If I relied on the shallow immortality most gods cling to, I would have died an infinite number of times by now."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"I have made far too many enemies across the eons for anything less."
Enchantress's eyes widened at the casual certainty in his voice. Before she could respond, he continued.
"The Phantom Sovereign holds the potential for something similar. It can develop layers of its own. But it is crude—unrefined. It does not yet understand how to structure or defend its existence."
His gaze remained forward.
"What you saw was a demonstration. Had it possessed even a fraction of my layered existence, it would not have unraveled so easily."
Enchantress leaned into the thought rather than shrinking from it. "How can you be so certain it can't reach you? If it's growing exponentially, won't it eventually catch up?"
Merno chuckled softly. "Perhaps."
Then, more pointedly:
"But it is too primitive—too raw—to wield that growth effectively. I command my existence. Every layer. I know the instant something observes me, anywhere."
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"It may one day gain that awareness. But it would take eons of uninterrupted growth—and countless devoured realities—before it even begins to approach my level of control."
He glanced sideways at her.
"And even then, there is a fundamental difference. It consumes. I construct."
A beat.
"I am an architect of order—even when I choose to break it. That is not a gap easily bridged."
Enchantress fell silent for a moment, then asked, more carefully, "If it's just a symptom… why not destroy it? Why bind it?"
Merno's smirk returned, subtle but unmistakable. "Because a useful tool is far more entertaining than a removed variable."
His tone cooled slightly.
"And I prefer to handle my own affairs. I imagine the Sovereign has… other matters to concern itself with now."
She nodded slowly, still processing. Then, one final question:
"When you said 'anything that belongs to me'… does that include me?"
Merno's golden eyes flicked toward her, amusement clear.
"It does."
A pause.
"Consider it insurance."
His smirk sharpened just slightly.
"Try not to get eaten."
And with that, he accelerated, drawing them swiftly through the Abyss as the threshold of the 21st Universe loomed ever closer.
The fractured remnants of the Phantom Sovereign churned slowly in the void, shadows writhing and knitting themselves back together with agonizing effort. Pieces of its colossal form reassembled one jagged fragment at a time, the golden sigil Merno had burned into its core pulsing like a brand that refused to fade.
For the first time in its short ancient, endless existence, something alien stirred deep within its devouring consciousness.
Defeat.
The thought was unfathomable. It had encountered angels before — radiant beings of order who always sensed its approach and veered away like prey avoiding a predator's shadow. None had ever struck it. None had dared. Yet this one… this being of light… had torn it in half without hesitation, cursed it, and spoken to it as if it were nothing more than an insignificant speck.
The Sovereign's countless maws twitched as the words echoed again in its fractured mind.
"…the pond is far larger than you realize…"
A cold, unfamiliar caution settled over its hunger. For the first time, the Phantom Sovereign chose restraint. It would not follow the direction the angel had taken. Whatever lay in that path — was now tainted by the memory of that overwhelming celestial force. The Sovereign turned its vast attention elsewhere, drifting deeper into the Abyss along a different trajectory, away from Merno's chosen route.
As its form continued to slowly reform, the golden curse burning steadily in its core, the Phantom Sovereign brooded in silence. Its hunger remained endless… but for now, it would feed elsewhere.
Meanwhile, in the 21st Universe, the Justice League briefing room was dimly lit.
The large central holoscreen glowing with paused footage from the edited propaganda broadcast. The core members had gathered: Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Superman, Wonder Woman — dressed in comfortable civilian clothes to accommodate her five-month pregnancy — Cyborg, Batman, The Flash, Supergirl, Power Girl, and Aquaman. In the far corner, Tony Stark, Thor, Natasha Romanoff, Rocket, and Steve Rogers stood quietly, observing with their temporary League visitor IDs clipped to their chests.
The group from the other Earth had been granted limited access to the Watchtower for coordination, though Rocket, Nebula, and the rest of their crew had chosen to remain aboard for convenience, showing little interest in interacting with Earth or its affairs.
The footage played again — carefully edited clips showing Baryon unleashing a devastating planet-cracker attack on Ungara, followed by Vreev and Xavior painting Son Gohan as the mastermind behind it all. The narration claimed the Destroyer God had personally sanctioned the destruction, ordaining the strike as necessary "justice," and warned that any retaliation from Gohan would be an act of pure tyranny.
Superman's jaw tightened. "This is complete rubbish."
Wonder Woman's eyes flashed with fury, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "He was with me when Vermont arrived. He didn't want to leave. He only went because he was asked to help save their world. If he actually wanted Ungara destroyed, he could have done it himself in minutes. This whole narrative is nonsense."
Barry Allen crossed his arms, anger clear on his face. "They're trying to frame him as the villain who ordered the attack, then say any response from him would make him a tyrant."
Green Lantern leaned back in his chair, ring glowing faintly on his finger as he shook his head with clear exasperation.
"Months ago, when I went to visit the Guardians, they told me straight up they were pulling all Lanterns out of any sectors under the Destroyer God's protection. They didn't want even the slightest chance of clashing with him. Said it just wasn't smart. If the Guardians came to that conclusion, these royals are dumb as bricks."
He paused, then added dryly, "I do remember New Genesis interfered once… and then they never showed their faces again. I'm pretty sure even they understand the dangers of acting like they're the ones in charge when dealing with Gohan."
Green Lantern leaned back further, his expression turning more serious. "What really gets me is that large-scale deaths and war crimes against civilizations have almost completely crawled to a halt in the East and most of the West. It's only the North and South where active genocides are still happening. So why are they painting the guy who's actually stopping most of the slaughter as the villain?"
Batman interjected quietly from the head of the table, his voice calm but edged with grim understanding. "It's the same everywhere. They're afraid of losing their power and control to someone else. When a being like Gohan steps in and actually enforces peace on a scale they never could, it threatens the entire structure they've built their authority on. So, they paint him as the tyrant instead of admitting they're no longer needed."
The room fell into a heavy silence for a moment as the truth of his words settled over everyone.
Green Lantern leaned forward again. "And now the real question is why Gohan's gone completely silent for over two hours."
Karen spoke up, her tone pragmatic. "He's probably actually fixing the problem before bothering with any PR campaign. From what I saw while around him, that's just how he operates."
Diana's fists clenched, her voice low and heated. "I want to go down there right now and—"
"Easy, Diana," Barry said quickly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "For the baby's sake, alright? I'm just as pissed as you are."
Diana relaxed. "Thank you...Barry."
In the corner, Thor frowned deeply, arms folded. "I do not understand. Why are your people turning against the very god keeping them alive? This Son Gohan has saved countless lives from what I've been told."
Batman's voice was calm and measured from the head of the table. "It's not unique to humans, Thor. People — and organizations — fear what they cannot control. They prefer their protectors manageable, predictable. I've struggled with that myself regarding many heroes in this room. We all have. Even Gohan understands the need for contingencies in case any of us ever go rogue."
The League members nodded in unanimous agreement — a quiet, mature acknowledgment.
Tony Stark raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "That's… remarkably mature for a team of super-powered individuals who could probably level continents if they wanted. Most groups on our Earth act like they're above accountability." He glanced around the room with new respect. "You're all incredibly powerful, yet you're willing to accept your own potential weaknesses for the greater good. The heroes back home could learn a thing or two from this Justice League."
Steve Rogers nodded slowly beside him, equally impressed.
Cyborg cut in, his synthetic voice steady but blunt. "Don't give us too much credit. This stance wasn't reached because we're inherently great people. We came dangerously close to total destruction too many times — not because of powerful outsiders, but because we almost destroyed each other."
A heavy silence fell. Tony and Steve exchanged a brief, guilty glance, the memory of their own Civil War hanging unspoken between them.
Batman leaned back slightly, his voice calm and measured. "Exactly. That's why we prepare. That's why we accept oversight, even when it's uncomfortable. Gohan understands that better than most. For all his power, he still asks for advice when he needs it. You'd never get the impression he thinks he's above everyone else."
He paused, his gaze steady as he looked around the room. "In fact, Gohan agreed to a contingency plan against himself back when it was still realistically possible to enforce one. It probably still exists on paper, but it's highly unlikely anything we could throw at him now would actually work. After all… our own champion was defeated by him in combat."
The Avengers in the corner instinctively glanced at Superman. Clark shifted slightly in his seat, looking a bit embarrassed before giving a small, honest nod of acknowledgment.
Batman continued evenly, "Superman needed to learn the same hard lesson I did. Thankfully, Gohan was level-headed enough to understand that this world — this universe — still needs a Superman. He wasn't there to overthrow anyone or seize control. He was simply acting as a safety net against those who become too ambitious."
Barry continued. "Besides, he was personally appointed by the second highest command in the cosmos. A small blue man with a halo. He's the only being we've ever seen Gohan bow to… and the only one who actually makes him nervous."
Rocket let out a low, impressed whistle from the corner. "Yeah, well… I saw that same guy destroy a weird silhouette out in the void — whatever the hell is beyond the universe — to absolutely nothing. And the size of that thing?" He shook his head, ears twitching. "It was beyond anything I could've imagined. Looked like the size of a damn galaxy."
The room remained tense, the edited footage still frozen on the screen — a clear lie that none of them could publicly challenge, yet one that left some heroes seething with restrained anger.
Suddenly, a priority alert chimed across the Justice League's central holoscreen. An incoming transmission from deep space — originating from the East, specifically the capital planet of Lou, Evonia.
Cyborg quickly patched it through. The screen flickered once before resolving into a live broadcast feed.
Green Arrow leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the incoming signal. "This is it — the big response everyone's been waiting for. Let's hope it isn't some unrestrained warning of destruction for everyone involved."
Across the neutral networks and through Gohan's powerful broadcast spell — reaching every planet and station willing to receive it — a clear, calm transmission cut through the universe-wide tension.
Son Gohan appeared on every screen, standing tall in his destruction uniform, his expression composed and steady. Behind him, the royal family of Lou stood revealed: Baryon towering proudly beside the newly restored Queen Arlen and Princess Oasa, with King Triton at their side.
"I know many of you are watching right now," Gohan began, his voice carrying quiet authority. "You've seen the footage. You've heard the claims. A lot of you probably think I'm about to go berserk, chase down Ungara, and destroy them for what happened."
He gave a small, almost indifferent shrug.
"I have no interest in playing this cat-and-mouse game. Ungara made their choice. They chose their side."
Gohan's gaze hardened slightly as he continued. "I distinctly remember showing the universe how I pulled life and death back together once before. If any of you truly believe I cannot simply step into the afterlife and ascend to heaven itself to retrieve the souls of the deceased… then you have clearly forgotten who I am."
He paused, letting the weight settle.
"I am Son Gohan — the God of Destruction appointed by the Grand Presence and ordained by the highest council of gods before reality itself fell apart."
His tone remained calm, yet unmistakably firm. "I don't care what you think of me. You've chosen to stand against me, and I won't force you onto my side. I am not bloodthirsty. I will not destroy Ungara or its people. But I told Planet Earth this over a year ago, and I'll say it again now: if you want to push me away and handle your problems alone, then do so. I won't stop you."
Gohan paused for a moment, his expression unchanging.
"Additionally, I will be restraining the Broadcast from now on. It will no longer be involved with any of my official duties. There is no need for it. It seems that when worlds can simply deny the feed to their citizens, the entire purpose of transparency is defeated. Therefore, this change will also extend to the worlds that previously agreed to it. From now on, they will receive nothing more than a glorified viewing experience — beautiful cosmic vistas and nothing else."
Gohan stepped slightly to the side, fully revealing the royal family behind him.
"However… the unjust deaths of Princess Oasa of Lou and Queen Arlen are not something I will allow to stand."
With those words, Baryon stepped forward, his massive frame radiating quiet strength and newfound confidence.
"Our enemies' underhanded tactics — using edited footage to paint lies — will be remembered," Baryon declared, his deep voice steady. "But Lou will not wage war against anyone. Not even Ungara. We will simply go our separate ways. Once I ascend the throne in the coming years, the East and West shall flourish under the rule and protection of the God of Destruction. In fact, in the next week, we will quadruple the original aid to all our remaining vassal worlds — medical fleets, reconstruction materials, food, and protection. All the necessary energy will be sourced directly from our god — the Lord of Destruction."
The broadcast then cut to previously unseen raw footage leading up to Queen Arlen's death: She stood on the bridge of her flagship, Aurelia's Mercy, moments before the catastrophic strike.
The bridge gravity failed as consoles sparked violently around her. Queen Arlen's eyes widened in shock and dawning horror. She reached out instinctively toward the viewport, as if trying to steady the dying ship with her own hands.
"My people…" she whispered, blood already trickling from her lips from internal trauma. "Oasa… Triton… Baryon… don't—"
The hull suddenly collapsed with a deafening screech. The vacuum of space violently consumed her, cutting off her final words as the transmission ended.
The screen returned to Gohan and the royal family of Lou, the message crystal clear: resurrection had already been granted, justice had been served without vengeance, and Lou would move forward stronger — under the protection of the God of Destruction.
Diana was the first to react. A slow, genuine laugh rose from deep in her chest. She tried to contain it, covering her mouth with one hand while the other rested on her rounded belly, but the sound still escaped — warm, proud, and filled with relief. "This… this is the man I love," she said softly, her eyes shining. "Nay — the God I love. He just crushed their entire attempt by doing something only he could do. He flipped the whole table against them without a single act of violence or threat. Serves those fools right for picking a fight that was so far out of their depth."
Batman gave a slow, approving nod, his expression softening with quiet respect.
The tension that had gripped the room finally broke. Shoulders relaxed, postures eased, and the heavy atmosphere lifted.
Karen nodded firmly, a satisfied smile on her face. "That is exactly the kind of response I expected from him. He's proven it again — he isn't out to destroy. He's here to protect and nourish. At least we didn't fall into the trap of hating him for the sake of hating him."
The rest of the League gave her a long, synchronized side-eye. Barry even raised an eyebrow dramatically.
"…Said the woman who once hated his guts," Green Arrow muttered under his breath.
Karen shot him a quick glare, but the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. The brief moment of teasing broke the last of the tension before everyone turned serious again.
Barry let out a short, frustrated chuckle. "Gohan already has his plate overflowing with forces from beyond our universe, and now he has to coddle this one too. These empires really do sound like toddlers trying to one-up him."
A ripple of relieved agreement moved through the League as the weight of the false propaganda finally dissolved.
The Avengers in the corner let out a collective sigh, nodding slowly as the weight of the broadcast settled over them.
Steve Rogers crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful and a little wistful. "I kind of wish we'd had someone like Gohan back home. Just a final safety net. Beings like Thanos wouldn't have been able to do what they wanted… at least not without facing real consequences."
Tony Stark glanced at Steve, then back at the screen, a rare moment of quiet agreement on his face. Natasha and Thor remained silent, but both wore matching looks of respect mixed with uncertainty.
The Justice League members exchanged glances, the shared understanding between the two teams hanging heavy in the air.
Green Lantern leaned back in his chair again, having been unable to sit still throughout the conversation, letting out a low whistle as he stared at the now-dark holoscreen. "Man… it's crazy how much of a switch-up we've done with Gohan. We used to be extremely wary of him — watching his every move, half-expecting him to go rogue at any second. Now? I can't even imagine a time where that happens anymore."
Cyborg's synthetic voice cut in smoothly, calm and matter-of-fact. "It happens when someone pulls your entire existence back from the brink and asks for nothing in return. Just a little trust. Add in the couple of times he's saved Earth itself, and the other worlds, the wariness starts to feel pretty outdated and petty."