Deep within the secluded, crumbling remains of the Icerian domain, Frostera—the Duke—sat upon his jagged obsidian throne. His face was a contorted mask of pure, unadulterated frustration. The humiliating, complete demolition of his vanguard by Mufasa and his sons was a thorn buried deep within his pride.
"He... insulted me," the Duke spat, his fists clenching so hard his icy knuckles turned ghostly white. He muttered in a dark, quiet rage, pacing across the empty throne room. "Mufasa humiliated me before the entire sector. How... how do I destroy them? How do I erase the Animans from existence?"
Slowly, deliberately, a rhythmic clapping echoed through the vast, empty hall.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Wow, Duke! You really got defeated, huh?"
The Five-Armed Man materialized, casually hovering in the center of the hall. He twirled a cosmic plunger around his lower right finger with an infuriating smirk.
"You lost ninety-five percent of your total universes! Wah! What a devastating loss!"
The Duke snapped, his frost aura flaring in a surge of rage. "Whose fault is this, ah?! You were the one who erased ninety-five percent of my universes in the first place, you bastard!"
The Five-Armed Man merely chuckled, waving his upper left hand dismissively. "Details, details. But listen, I actually know someone who can help you." His tone shifted suddenly, turning deadly serious.
"Who?" the Duke asked, narrowing his cold eyes. "You?"
"Me?" The Five-Armed Man scoffed, his expression remaining grimly serious. "No. Someone who is exceptionally strong... though still nowhere near my level, of course."
Before the Duke could question him further, the Five-Armed Man snapped his lower fingers. A sudden spatial rip tore through the throne room, swallowing both of them into a blinding warp of absolute physical mass.
***
They materialized in front of an insurmountable, metallic barrier that stretched across the conceptual void. This was not a mere planet or star system; this was the Verse of Steel—an entire cosmos composed purely of dense, impenetrable metallic reality.
"How are we even supposed to get inside a whole verse like this?" the Duke asked, staring at the absolute fortress of iron and steel ahead.
"Just watch," the Five-Armed Man replied casually.
He took a step forward into the border domain. Instantly, the automated cosmic defense grid of the Verse of Steel recognized the intruder. A massive, horrifying heavy artillery array featuring 6,767,864,545,000,008 high-calibre cannons locked onto their exact spatial coordinates simultaneously.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A catastrophic barrage of infinite metallic plasma rained down upon the Five-Armed Man. The raw kinetic impact was enough to shatter standard Leta Verses into dust.
Yet, the Five-Armed Man simply stood there, tanking the entire hyper-artillery assault without taking a single scratch. His posture remained utterly relaxed as the explosions washed over his skin like a light breeze.
"Cut," the Five-Armed Man said softly.
He casually flicked two fingers across the air. In a microsecond, the entire defensive infrastructure—all six trillion cannons—was cleanly sliced in half, crumbling into silent space.
The Duke's jaw nearly hit the void floor. "You... you just cut through a cosmic defense grid like paper..."
"See?" The Five-Armed Man smirked, gesturing toward the opening. "Told you. Now let's go inside."
***
They stepped past the breached boundary into the heart of the metallic cosmos. Before they could traverse a thousand miles, the sky turned dark grey.
An army of 9,827,465,234,400,000,000 (9.8 Quintillion) Steel Guards surged forward from the horizon. Each guard was constructed from high-grade, infinite-density steel, their visual optics glowing with absolute lethality.
"Now what?" the Duke asked, instinctively raising his frozen shields.
The Five-Armed Man stepped in front of the Duke. "Leave it to me."
He pulled two cosmic plungers into his lower two hands, spinning them until they blurred into circular shields of pure kinetic energy.
With effortless, terrifying grace, he charged straight into the quintillions of steel guards. It wasn't a battle; it was a casual walk through a paper maze.
Every swipe of his plungers sent millions of steel guards shattering into scrap metal. Within seconds, the overwhelming army was reduced to a vast, silent ocean of broken iron.
The Five-Armed Man turned around, resting one of his plungers on his shoulder as he teased the Duke with a smirk. "You know, every single one of those guards was equally as strong as you... or honestly, maybe even stronger."
The Duke's face flushed with intense irritation. "Ok, ok, stop! Stop mocking me and keep moving!"
***
Passing through the ocean of scrap metal, they arrived at a colossal, obsidian-steel castle that pierced through the clouds of the verse.
"Come on, next section," the Five-Armed Man said, walking straight into the front gates.
As soon as they entered the inner corridor, the security system triggered. Millions of floating, razor-sharp steel blades materialised, continuously slicing through the hallway at infinite speeds.
The blades slashed across the Five-Armed Man's skin, but he ignored the endless strikes entirely, tanking the structural cutting force like a devil walking through a minor rainstorm.
"Malevolent Shrine," the Five-Armed Man murmured with a dry laugh.
A wave of invisible, absolute spatial pressure erupted from his frame. In an instant, every cutting blade in the corridor was reduced to microscopic dust.
The Duke blinked, staring at the empty hallway. "That name... Malevolent Shrine... why does that sound so familiar?"
"Don't worry about it," the Five-Armed Man chuckled, leading the way toward the subterranean levels of the castle.
***
They descended into the deepest dungeon, stopping before a massive, spell-bound cell. Inside the cell, through the hazy, distorted energy barrier, two figures were visible—a man and a woman engaged in an intimate act, though their faces remained blurred by the cell's suppression field.
The Five-Armed Man cleared his throat loudly. "Oi! Get out!"
The energy spell on the cell shattered instantly. The heavy iron door swung open.
A man stepped out into the dim torchlight of the corridor. He had pitch-black hair, and a build that was neither skinny nor overly muscular—an athletic, perfect baseline. Yet, emanating from his entire body was a terrifying, suffocating silver aura that vibrated with high-frequency cosmic steel.
"What do you want?" the man asked, his voice bone-chillingly cold.
"Let that woman go first, then we talk," the Five-Armed Man said calmly.
The black-haired man gestured silently with his hand. The woman quickly gathered herself, scurried out of the cell, and disappeared down the dark hallway without looking back.
"Now, put your clothes on," the Five-Armed Man added.
The man pulled a dark, steel-threaded coat over his shoulders, dressing calmly before turning his icy gaze back toward the visitors.
"Now what?" he asked, his silver aura flickering dangerously.
***
The Five-Armed Man pointed a lower hand at the Duke. "This is the Icerian King, Frostera... though he prefers to be called the Duke."
The black-haired man didn't even shift his gaze. "Ok. So what?"
"Duke, go ahead and state your business," the Five-Armed Man said, stepping back to let the two converse.
The Duke stepped forward, attempting to maintain an air of royal authority despite the man's overwhelming silver aura. "I want you to perform a task for me."
"What task?" the man asked coldly.
"You have to destroy the Animans," the Duke stated, his voice filled with hatred.
The black-haired man narrowed his eyes slightly, a smirk of disdain touching his lips. "Fool. The Animans live within a Leta Verse. A localized strike across boundaries is an unnecessary waste of energy."
"No, no, no," the Duke corrected quickly. "You don't have to destroy their entire verse. You just have to destroy the Anipla Planet."
The man remained silent for a moment, analyzing the request before giving a short nod. "Ok, I can do that. But I have a deal."
"You want my women, right?" the Duke proposed immediately, knowing the ancient reputation of the warrior before him.
The black-haired man let out a dark chuckle, genuinely impressed by the Duke's quick negotiation. "Yes. You are remarkably good at confronting and reading people, Frostera."
"Ah, please," the Duke replied, crossing his arms. "Just call me Duke."
"Ok, Duke," the man agreed smoothly.
***
Before the alliance could solidify, the Five-Armed Man stepped between them, his central third eye opening slightly as his tone dropped into absolute authority.
"Alright, listen up," the Five-Armed Man said. "I will be the one who oversees everything from the shadows. Whosoever tries to betray this arrangement... will be personally punished by me."
The Duke paused, suddenly realizing he had never actually learned the black-haired man's true identity. "Wait... what's your name?"
The man adjusted his coat, his dangerous silver aura flaring brightly as he spoke. "Mithu Ibne Ridwan."
"Pfft! Mithu Ibne Ridwan?!" The Five-Armed Man burst out laughing, clutching his stomach with three of his hands. "What a ridiculous name!"
In a flash of pure, murderous instinct, Ridwan's silver aura exploded. He materialized a massive, mountain-sized Spear of Steel and thrust it straight at the Five-Armed Man's throat at hyper-light speeds.
CLANG!
The massive, deadly spear stopped dead in its tracks—caught effortlessly between the Five-Armed Man's index and middle fingers.
"Ohhhhh!" The Five-Armed Man teased in a high-pitched, mock-crying voice. "Look at the baby crying! So sensitive about his name!"
Ridwan gritted his teeth, attempting to push the spear forward, but the two fingers held the weapon like an absolute, unmovable mountain.
"I'll let you off easy this time," the Five-Armed Man said, his playful smile returning as he let go of the spear. "I have somewhere else to be. I need to head to the Lost World."
***
The Five-Armed Man raised his lower left hand. A small, tennis-ball-sized red core materialized in his palm, pulsing with deep cosmic spatial energy.
A swirling, dark crimson portal opened from the core. Without another word, the Five-Armed Man stepped into the portal and vanished completely from the Verse of Steel.
Ridwan lowered his massive spear, letting it dissolve into silver dust. He let out a long, weary sigh and turned his back on the Duke.
"I am going to sleep now," Ridwan said coldly as he walked toward his inner chambers. "I will inform you when I am ready to strike."
"Fine," the Duke muttered, turning toward the castle exits. "It's time to leave."
Both figures departed in opposite directions, leaving the silent halls of the Verse of Steel buzzing with the ominous promise of an impending catastrophe for Anipla Planet.