The city of Shupa roared with applause.
Golden lights floated above the central arena as thousands gathered around the grand platform. This was not just a festival anymore—
it was the coronation of the Ten Kings.
Beings said to rival universes.
Beings who shaped reality instead of living in it.
The announcer's voice echoed across the arena.
"Let the new Ten Kings be revealed!"
One by one, they appeared.
Gian Cabreros—
time itself bending slightly around his steps.
"Ability: Stop Time."
Acer Aviolla—
mana spiraling behind him like an endless army waiting to be born.
"Ability: Manifest Legion."
Jhonathan Kira—
calm.
still.
but carrying something unnatural.
"Ability: Not Die."
Alli Ria—
her gaze alone felt dangerous.
"Ability: Kill by Thought."
Thomas Anderson—
and the air shifted.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
But completely.
"Ability: Reject Everything."
Grey Reyson—
his name was spoken, but the announcer hesitated.
"…Ability: Unk—"
He never finished.
Thomas Anderson moved.
The announcer was thrown across the arena instantly.
No warning.
No buildup.
Just deletion from position.
The crowd froze.
Then panic spread.
Guards rushed forward.
Spells activated.
Weapons ignited.
Nothing worked.
Every attack approached Thomas Anderson—
and simply failed to become real.
Arrows stopped existing mid-flight.
Spells dissolved into meaningless motion.
Even intent lost definition before reaching him.
A blade pierced his chest.
A spear shattered his ribs.
A stone cracked his skull.
Half his body was torn away.
And he still stood.
Smiling.
"…This is unnecessary," Thomas said softly.
Then he reached forward.
And grabbed a guard by the neck.
The guard's body collapsed halfway, like existence couldn't decide whether to finish rendering him.
Thomas tilted his head slightly.
"…I reject damage."
The wound in his chest closed—not by healing—
but by denying that it ever happened.
Mark Angelo's expression darkened.
"…That's not strength."
"…That's author-level interference."
Jhonathan watched carefully.
His eyes narrowed.
"…So he doesn't survive attacks…"
"…he erases the concept of being affected."
Thomas stepped forward onto the arena floor.
The air bent around him.
Reality stuttered.
Then—
he raised his hand.
And smiled wider.
"…Let's begin the coronation properly."
And in that moment—
he rejected time itself.
The world flickered.
The arena split into overlapping versions of "what should happen."
And every future screamed at once.