"The reactor's about to blow. Let's get out of here," Saitama said.
"A nuclear plant explosion? What are we supposed to do about that? Who could possibly stop it? That's impossible!"
"We're dead. No one's getting out of this."
"You all go—I'll hold it off!"
Iceman clenched his teeth and thrust out both hands. Freezing vapor roared from his palms, encasing the wall before them in thick ice.
"It's not enough, Bobby. You can't stop a nuclear blast," Kayla said, shaking her head.
Iceman was only around Level Two—stronger than most, sure, but stopping a reactor-level detonation with ice was a fantasy. And among all the mutants here, not one could withstand what was coming.
"We can't run…"
"Just… accept it."
Despair rooted everyone in place. The countdown echoed.
3… 2… 1…
A thunderclap.
The buried charges inside the nuclear facility detonated. A mushroom cloud boiled upward as a scalding shock front came roaring in, ripping the world to pieces.
And yet Saitama still stood in front of them, gaze steady as the inferno surged closer. He lifted one hand.
Mirror world.
Spatial barrier.
The air thrummed like panes of glass spreading and locking together. The world around them refracted into a prismatic mosaic.
It was the Ancient One's Mirror Dimension. After absorbing the Marvel micro-universe's power, Saitama could wield it too.
The shockwave hit.
Temperatures that could vaporize steel slammed into the mirrored space—and stopped cold. Every jaw dropped.
"W-what…?"
"Why is the fire stuck outside?"
"It's him—he blocked a nuclear explosion!"
The blast raged for minutes. The fortress-grade plant crumpled into slag; hardened steel turned to vapor. When it ended, everything within tens of thousands of meters of ground zero was planed flat—buildings, trees, all ground to ash. The earth was black and still pulsing with heat.
"I'm dreaming."
"This can't be real."
"We're… alive?"
Only one bubble of normalcy remained: a circle roughly a hundred meters across with Saitama at its center. Even the floorboards within that ring were intact.
The transparent mirror walls faded. Saitama turned back to the group. "It's over. You're safe now."
Silence. A graveyard hush.
"You… you just blocked a nuclear detonation? Did I imagine that? What level are you supposed to be?!"
"What's your mutation? You're Saitama, right?"
"He's insane…!"
Mutants—men and women alike—stared at him with stunned reverence. In their world, strength always commanded respect.
"My name's Saitama. I'm a professional hero, for fun."
Above, rotors chopped the air.
A helicopter descended. Professor X—Charles—returned drenched in cold sweat and sinking guilt. He had wanted to save them, but even he had been forced to flee the blast.
"No one could have survived that…" he thought, heart twisting. He extended his psychic senses again.
And froze.
Every mutant who had been in the plant… was still alive.
Alive?
He checked again. Still alive—and in every mind, one name echoed in unison.
Saitama.
"The one who saved us."
"I'm sorry I'm late. I'm Charles. You're safe now," he called as the helicopter settled onto the ruins. His smile carried a hint of embarrassment—he had run, and Saitama had saved everyone. Even so, the seasoned mentor kept his face warm and kind, his gaze settling on the bald hero.
"Hello, Mr. Saitama. I'm Professor Charles."
For once, Professor X offered the greeting first.
Saitama didn't answer. He had something more urgent to do.
"Have you seen Logan? Don't tell me he died."
He asked several mutants; all shook their heads. When the blast went off, Logan had still been inside the ruin, outside Saitama's protective ring. Friend or not, Saitama wasn't going to let him die.
"He's over there," Charles said, pointing. His telepathy had already located the mutant's mind.
Saitama strode to the indicated spot and, under Charles's tingling scalp, casually heaved aside slabs of wall tens of meters thick. Beneath them lay a barely breathing Wolverine.
Adamantium had built a monster. His regeneration was terrifying. In the span of a few heartbeats, most of his wounds knit closed—and when Saitama reached for him, Logan's eyes snapped open.
Shick!
Adamantium claws stabbed for Saitama's face.
Saitama tipped his head and let the strike whistle past. "Easy. It's me, Logan—Saitama."
"Saitama? Who are you? Where is this?"
Logan's eyes were wild. He scanned the devastation, feral and lost.
"Uh…"
Saitama winced. Maybe every world had its way of forcing the story back onto its rails. In the original line, Stryker shot Logan in the head with adamantium bullets to wipe his memory. Here it wasn't a bullet but the shockwave of a nuclear blast. Either way… amnesia.
"Sis! Wake up!"
Just then, Kayla cried out. She'd found her elder sister—the White Queen—collapsed on the ground, blood pouring from a hole in her side. At some point, a stray round had torn through the White Queen's body and shredded her organs.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For 20+ Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!] [[email protected]/Draumel]
[Thank You For Your Support!]