The Solar System.
A spacecraft drifted through the void.
No—calling it a spacecraft was being generous. In order to escape as quickly as possible, everything unnecessary had been stripped away. What remained was little more than a shuttle-shaped escape pod whose power reserves were on the verge of running dry.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
As the low-energy warning echoed through the cramped cabin, a black-haired boy lying inside a cryogenic pod slowly opened his eyes.
He looked almost like a corpse.
Detecting that its occupant had regained consciousness, the pod began drawing back the white mist filling its interior. Moments later, the slow, powerful thud of a heartbeat reverberated through the chamber.
The cryopod's lid slid apart.
After a moment, a pale yet powerful hand emerged through the lingering fog and gripped the edge of the open pod.
So... stiff.
Zane's brain activity gradually returned to normal.
How long had he been frozen?
Then came the pain.
At first it was dull, like countless tiny ants gnawing their way across his body. Slowly, inexorably, sensation spread through his limbs.
Several enormous tearing wounds ran diagonally from his right shoulder all the way down to his abdomen. Blood had frozen into crimson crystals inside the twisted gashes, and every stiff movement produced faint cracking sounds as they fractured.
His heart had been pushed far beyond its limits and partially pierced. As his nervous system came back online, it struggled to pump what little blood remained through his body.
With circulation came pain intense enough to make an ordinary human lose consciousness.
Zane barely reacted.
His expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as though this level of agony had long since become routine. After forcing himself slightly upright, he even freed one hand to feel around his body and assess the damage.
Escaping that nightmare had cost him dearly.
During the coming-of-age trial, Zane had killed several participants a few years older than himself, stolen an escape craft belonging to the civilization the Viltrumites had just conquered, and fled into deep space.
Viltrumite ships possessed excellent medical facilities.
But using one would have been suicide.
Once the brutal warriors back on Viltrum recovered from their civil war and noticed what had happened, they could simply follow the ship's tracking systems and hunt down their traitor.
Zane's only option had been to take one of the escape vessels prepared by the survivors of the civilization whose world had been more than half destroyed during the Viltrumites' bloody coming-of-age ceremony.
Even that hadn't been enough.
To shake off any possible pursuit, he had eventually abandoned the stolen ship midway through his journey and transferred to this tiny escape shuttle. He had modified it as best he could, then hauled a cryogenic pod aboard to prevent his wounds from deteriorating during the long voyage through space.
The result was obvious.
His injuries had not healed at all.
The moment the cryogenic suspension ended, the enormous wounds stretching across his chest and abdomen began deteriorating again.
And those weren't even the worst of them.
More than fifty bones had been shattered.
His right thigh had been completely twisted apart, leaving the leg attached by little more than scraps of flesh.
His spine was barely holding together.
His entire throat had once been torn out.
Half his skull had been sheared away, along with a small amount of brain tissue.
All told, there were more than twenty injuries that would have been fatal on almost any other species.
But wounds like these weren't enough to kill a Viltrumite.
Especially not one with Zane's bloodline.
His lineage came from a warrior who had distinguished himself spectacularly during the civil war—an undefeated monster who stood out even among the elite of Viltrum.
After examining himself for a while and gaining a rough understanding of his condition, Zane stopped moving and rested to conserve his strength.
Once the lingering effects of cryogenic suspension had faded, he gripped the side of the pod and slowly pulled himself upright.
The cryopod happened to face the escape shuttle's forward viewport.
Reflected in Zane's bloodshot eyes was a beautiful blue planet.
Hope surged through him.
"Fucking finally!"
"Fuck Viltrum!"
"I got reincarnated way too early. For all I know, the Viltrumite Civil War might not even be over yet. Omni-Man and Invincible shouldn't even exist on Earth at this point, so there shouldn't be anyone there capable of threatening me!"
Excitement flooded through him.
Being reborn this far back in the timeline had condemned Zane to more than a decade of suffering, but now that he was finally about to return to that weak little world he still thought of as home, he couldn't suppress his excitement.
"At this point in history, Earth doesn't have Omni-Man, Invincible, Atom Eve, or any of the other heavy hitters from the original story. The Guardians of the Globe haven't even been formed yet. The only person who might actually pose a threat to me is the Immortal."
After all, Viltrum's databases contained information about Earth.
According to their assessment, humanity was still several centuries away from developing into even a standard-level threat.
The planet wasn't considered valuable enough to warrant a dedicated conquest campaign.
Zane's plan was simple.
Tell a few harmless lies.
Stay on Earth while his injuries healed.
Then enjoy himself.
Nobody would be able to stop him from living however he wanted.
And if the Immortal decided to become his enemy...
Well, Zane wasn't above fighting dirty.
An ambush, for example.
Kill the Immortal once, then find some way to seal away the remains before he could regenerate.
With a Viltrumite's physique, even an average Viltrumite soldier could live like a king on Earth in this era.
Then—
Click.
The last of the cabin lights died.
Zane's expression darkened along with them.
Viltrumite technology was highly advanced, but almost everything their civilization developed existed for one purpose or another related to combat and warfare.
They did have scientists and engineers.
But those positions were usually filled by individuals born physically deficient, or by warriors who had suffered permanent injuries severe enough to remove them from competition entirely.
Viltrum's ruthless system had already pushed Zane close to mental exhaustion.
That didn't mean he wanted to get crippled and thrown into some miserable research department for the rest of his life.
In other words, every moment after his reincarnation had been precious.
He hadn't had much time to devote to learning advanced engineering.
Which was why he'd miscalculated the shuttle's remaining energy reserves.
There was almost nothing left.
And although Viltrumites were perfectly capable of crossing the vacuum of space under their own power, Zane was so badly injured that his remaining stamina probably wouldn't be enough to carry him all the way to Earth alive.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a helpless smile.
"I've come this far. Earth's right there."
With no better option, he climbed painfully out of the cryopod and prepared to tear open the shuttle's hull so he could fly the remaining distance himself.
Then his entire body shuddered.
Something had enveloped him.
Years of competition, battle, and slaughter allowed Zane to understand the situation almost instantly.
A powerful living being was approaching him at tremendous speed.
And whatever presence that being possessed had already spread around him.
Or perhaps...
Locked onto him.
What kind of person had an aura like this?
It was completely different from the presence of the Viltrumites he'd fought in the past, or the powerful natives who had resisted Viltrumite invasions.
There was no icy killing intent.
No hostility.
Instead, the presence radiated warmth.
Like sunlight.
But whether it felt cold or warm didn't matter.
Zane knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Whoever this was...
They were incredibly powerful.
Powerful enough that even his utterly exhausted muscles began trembling uncontrollably.
Once, from a great distance, Zane had seen the man who would eventually become Viltrum's absolute strongest warrior.
During a mobilization in the civil war, the future Grand Regent had swept his indifferent gaze across Zane and the other young warriors waiting to undergo yet another brutal trial.
Zane still remembered that presence.
And the life-form now approaching him, radiating warmth like an immense sun, possessed an aura that was no weaker than the future Grand Regent's.
It might even have been stronger.
Zane froze.
At this point in history...
On Earth—or even anywhere near Earth—
Where the hell had someone this powerful come from?
Through the transparent viewport, Zane stared stiffly at the dark silhouette rapidly approaching his shuttle.
The extraordinary eyesight granted by his Viltrumite physiology immediately picked out one distinctive feature.
A thick, full beard.
His mind raced through memories from his previous life.
There was only one person he could think of who matched that description.
Someone he'd barely considered a serious concern when planning his arrival on Earth.
The Immortal.
Zane stared in disbelief.
"No fucking way, man."
What the hell?
Since when was the Immortal this strong?!
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