The morning sun crept through the crooked blinds of Saitama's apartment, casting streaks of golden light across a chaotic battlefield of empty snack bags, tipped-over game controllers, and a trail of mismatched socks. Amid the wreckage of a night filled with video games and mock debates, four unlikely roommates lay passed out in a makeshift camp of futons, limbs tossed like ragdolls across the floor.
Between Saitama and King's futons, nestled like a pampered pet, was a golden cloud — the Flying Nimbus — lightly snoring, if such a thing were possible. It pulsed faintly with solar energy, as if it too had enjoyed the party.
Damian stirred first, eyes blinking open as the sun kissed his face. He sat up slowly, the thrill of today's mission already coiling in his chest like tension before a storm. This is it… first exposure test. Eight hours of Kryptonite exposure…
He quietly dressed, his super-suit folding over him in waves of sleek black nanites — today enhanced for maximum solar absorption. It shimmered with faint crimson outlines, as if absorbing power even now. Stepping carefully between Genos' charging cable and King's spilled soda, he approached the balcony, pausing to call out gently:
"Come here, Nimbus."
The cloud perked up like a loyal dog, floating to his side and nuzzling his leg with affection. The rustling woke Saitama, who sat up mid-yawn, rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist.
"Yo... are you taking off or what?"
Damian nodded. "Kryptonite trial. Eight hours, high atmosphere."
Saitama gave a sleepy thumbs-up. "Don't die."
The commotion stirred Genos, who snapped upright like a soldier. "You're departing? Good luck, Damian. May your regenerative capacity prove greater than the toxin's effect."
King grumbled awake next, blinking through his tangled hair. "Yeah, good luck, man. Try not to melt or explode, or whatever Kryptonite does."
The Nimbus floated toward Genos, then instantly recoiled with a sharp puff, just as it had the night before.
"Haha!" Saitama chuckled. "Genos, I bet it doesn't like chrome."
Genos sighed. "Well, no worries. I have my boosters for a reason…"
With a quick nod, Damian slid open the balcony doors. A warm breeze met him, the skyline of Z-City stretching wide — hazy towers, rusted antennas, concrete buildings.
"You guys hold it down. I plan on doing eight eight-hour exposure tests, so I'll see you in the afternoon," Damian said, stepping onto the balcony.
"We always do. And cool — see you later. Don't die!" Saitama replied, arms behind his head.
Damian smiled. "Of course. I'll be back stronger, you just wait… Nimbus, come on — follow me."
With that, Damian and the Flying Nimbus soared into the morning sunlit sky.
Still in his pajamas, Genos watched the golden trail. "I hope he survives this. Kryptonite... that's no small hurdle. Based on what Damian described, it's like experiencing all forms of cancer at the same time… but worse."
Saitama's expression softened as he stared into the sky. "He will. That guy's got something even crazier than power... he's got drive. Reminds me of me, back when I still had hair."
King turned. "Hey, how did you get so strong, anyway?"
Genos responded before Saitama could. "Master's regimen is among the most elite in physical conditioning. A true gauntlet."
King leaned in, intrigued. "Could it work for me? I've been thinking… maybe it's time I trained seriously."
Genos solemnly nodded and began. "One hundred push-ups. One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. And a ten-kilometer run. Every day."
King leaned forward, waiting for more.
Saitama puffed out his chest proudly. "And no air conditioning in summer. No heat in winter."
King's expression slowly died.
"That's... that's it?"
"Yup," Saitama grinned, posing with fists on his hips. "Hardcore, right?"
King clutched his golden locks in horror. "Forget that. I'm not going bald just to maybe get buff."
Saitama squinted, rubbing his shiny head. "It's not about the hair; it's about the heart."
King shuffled back under his blanket. "Yeah, hard pass."
Somewhere across the city, a pair of eyelids snapped open.
Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror, hovered upright from her bed without touching the floor, hair floating like it had a grudge against gravity. The early sun hadn't even crested the horizon fully, but she was already brimming with quiet fury — masked only by her disheveled robe and the faint sound of her younger sister Fubuki still peacefully snoring down the hall.
Tch. Figures she can sleep after all that's happened… I bet she's happy for Damian…
Tatsumaki floated out of her room, arms crossed and fuming. She got herself ready — taking extra care this time — looking better than usual. She descended the apartment building like a queen leaving her tower, her presence sending light ripples through the air. At the base, one of her sister's elite personal agents waited.
"Okay, did you get all the info I asked for about Damian — Sky God?" she asked curtly.
The agent bowed slightly. "Ma'am. The subject, known as 'Sky God,' currently resides at Z-City Central Apartments. Apartment complex shared with S-Class hero Genos, C-Class hero Saitama…"
Tatsumaki narrowed her eyes. "Perfect. I'm going to pay him a personal visit."
"Shall I arrange transport?"
"I didn't ask," she scoffed. "But yes. Something dramatic."
Moments later, a jet-black limousine peeled around the curb, sleek and reflective like an obsidian fang. Tatsumaki, the driver, and three suited agents piled in.
She took out her phone and checked the front camera — fixing her makeup.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Tatsumaki was slightly nervous but wanted to impress Damian. A weird urge she had never felt before… nor fully understood. Was she going to cause chaos, demand answers, or… get him to like her?
Only Tatsumaki could answer that.
Her thoughts ran wild as the limo sped off across town.
Meanwhile… above the Earth.
Damian hovered on the golden Nimbus, now perched nearly at the edge of space, with stars faintly flickering beyond the blue horizon. The wind was gone here — the silence nearly divine. Only the warm caress of sunlight radiated his obsidian super-suit, which gleamed black for maximum solar absorption.
He reached out, gently patting the Nimbus.
"I'll need you today," he murmured. "Stay with me. Keep me facing the sun… and don't let me fall."
The cloud bobbed with loyal energy.
Damian sat cross-legged, breathing slowly. His AI pinged in his ear.
[ALPHA ONLINE]
Awaiting commands.
"Alpha, begin full biological diagnostics. Eight-hour trial. Measure the following metrics…"
He rattled them off like a soldier giving mission objectives:
Cellular degradation vs. solar regeneration rate
Effect of prolonged Kryptonite exposure on organ systems, neural function, and skeletal integrity
Energy retention under solar saturation
Mutation adaptability through Codex-encoded genetics
"If I survive this test, we'll establish a regimen. Daily exposure... gradual resistance. I'll become immune. No more weakness to Kryptonite. And this will prove that — through my genome and my will to grow stronger — there will be no threats I can't overcome."
His fingers hovered over his interface, scrolling through his system inventory. He found it: a dull gray lead canister with a glowing warning.
[Green Kryptonite] — 2.3 lbs | 10-inch Crystal | High radiation signature[WARNING: Lethal to Kryptonians. Proceed with caution.]
He stared at the canister. His heart beat harder than during any monster battle he'd faced.
"I've survived the death of a planet with no powers… My will to overcome will prevail. The Codex runs throughout my genetic structure... I can evolve like no Kryptonian before me."
He inhaled deeply, steadying his thoughts.
"Not only that — but fate granted me a system to help me accomplish just that. So… system, I thank you for the missions, the rewards, and the tools you've provided me."
He exhaled.
"I won't die here. Not to a rock."
A brief pause before the trial, he grabbed his phone checking the time, 7:00 am, he then opened his contacts, thumbs typing:
To: Fubuki: Hey, I'll be MIA until 3PM. Conducting some private tests. Phone's on silent. If you need anything in the in meantime, talk to my Master Saitama or Genos. 😊
Damian attached Saitama's and Genos's contact info and hit send. He smirked, flicked his phone to Do Not Disturb mode, then summoned the canister into his lap.
"Okay… Alpha, start test monitoring. I'm opening the seal."
Monitoring active. Trial Duration Alarm set for 8 hours. Goodluck sir.
Damian twisted the bottom of the canister. Click — then a hiss. The lead cap came free.
A wave of invisible agony slammed into him.
"Ghhhhaaaaa—!"
His entire body convulsed as if lightning surged through every cell. The pain was surgical — not like a stab or a burn — but molecular decay. Like his very essence was being unknit.
Every instinct screamed to toss the Kryptonite into orbit.
But he didn't.
His jaw clenched, drawing blood as his teeth bit down. His suit tried to compensate, tightening around his skin, solar collectors pumping in every photon they could absorb.
He placed the canister a few inches beside him, open — glowing green.
Paralyzed, Damian slumped back onto the Nimbus, arms splayed, chest heaving.
"This… is how Superman feels…"
His fingers twitched weakly.
The green crystal pulsed beside him. Every second was a warzone. Hallucinations flickered — fire, Krypton, screaming, the void of space, Rao's statue crumbling.
But then — sunlight.
He turned his head slightly. The sun still shone, strong and unwavering.
And as he hoped, the sun...it was keeping him alive.
He closed his eyes in agony.
Above Earth, Damian floated in silence, still motionless on the Nimbus, the open Kryptonite crystal pulsing beside him like a cursed relic. Every breath was like inhaling needles. His organs felt like they were wrapped in wire. His vision blurred every time he opened his eyes — not from fatigue, but from the overwhelming, precise degradation coursing through his cells.
He whispered through cracked lips, "Alpha… status?"
[Cells are in a limbo state. Cellular degradation and cellular repair are cycling in combat. The waves of pain are caused by the absorption of solar radiation and its rapid depletion. Currently, cellular absorption is functioning at 10% capacity — just enough to sustain your cells from total failure.]
Damian's eyes fluttered. Crimson energy flared involuntarily as the pain spiked again.
"F-Fuck me… goddamn DC Universe. Why is Kryptonite even a thing?!"
His entire body tensed, veins bulging, the solar suit twitching like a living organism struggling to hold itself together. He stared up at the sun, the only thing keeping him tethered to life.
"This… this isn't about strength anymore," he muttered through clenched teeth. "It's about survival… about progress… about evolving into something more…"
Images flashed through his mind — waking up in his younger Kryptonian body, Krypton's explosion, encoding the Codex, system missions, lottery prizes, Saitama's fist splitting the air like a god. Each memory reminded him why he was here.
"I've come too far to break now… I will overcome this… I will conquer every weakness…"
He turned his head slightly, staring at the Kryptonite — hatred and awe mixing in his expression.
"…And one day… I'll conquer the red sun too."