A battle at the edge of all that ever was
Kaito Yamato, the True Boundless, stood motionless at the edge of reality. His fists, sculpted by eons of discipline, clenched with quiet fury. Before him loomed Malakar Kaelo, a being of unspeakable power and unspeakable evil—a fellow Apex Authority, born of carnage and ambition.
They had fought across timeless stretches, their combat tearing through omniversal strata, shattering the foundations of reality. But now, they hovered in silence, the calm before one final storm.
Kaito's presence radiated discipline, honor, and indomitable spirit. Every line of his body bore the mark of Divine Martial Perfection. He was the master of the Iron Fist of the Thousand Truths, a martial art honed not for conquest, but for justice.
Malakar was his antithesis: a sadistic tyrant who twisted martial arts into tools of fear. He had destroyed entire generations, consumed his own bloodline, and enslaved worlds—all to secure his place atop a throne of ash.
"This is not your concern," Malakar snarled, voice a jagged wound in the fabric of space.
Kaito's face was unreadable, but his gaze burned like twin stars. "You call butchering children and ravaging families *'not my concern'? You've disgraced the very soul of martial arts."
Malakar's eyes, pits of malevolent flame, narrowed. "You speak like a tired monk clinging to a dream. But you've never had the courage to claim real power."
Kaito didn't flinch. "Power means nothing without purpose. You fed on your own offspring. You stole women and discarded them like broken weapons. You fear the strength of others—so you crush it."
Malakar roared, summoning a storm of corruption that spiraled across infinite skies. "You dare judge me?! You watched my rise and did nothing. Now you challenge me here, far from our omniverses?!"
Kaito stepped forward. The void bent under his presence.
"Yes," he said, voice deep and eternal. "Because now… you cannot run."
The clash resumed—fists of stardust, kicks that cracked reality itself. Kaito's Heaven-Splitting Step blurred space as he weaved through Malakar's brutal assaults. Malakar retaliated with the Black Spiral Break, a technique that devoured galaxies as it struck.
Eons bled into one another. Worlds died in the shockwaves. But Kaito did not falter.
He fought not for revenge. Not even for victory. He fought for those who could not—for the orphaned children, for the widows and widowers, for the broken and voiceless.
Each of his strikes carried their memory.
Malakar, mighty as he was, began to falter. He had power—but no center. No truth. No soul.
"You should've died," he spat, staggering back. "Why won't you fall?!"
Kaito advanced, steady as law. "Because I have something you never had: conviction."
Malakar's expression cracked—fear slipped through. For the first time, he realized: he could lose.
Desperate, he turned to flee. "Leave me!" he shrieked. "You're the relentless one! We're light-years from our own omniverses!"
Kaito paused, his breath even. "It doesn't matter. My son… has become an Apex Authority. He doesn't need me anymore. And he will protect yours."
Malakar froze mid-flight. A scream tore from his soul.
"YOU BASTARD!"
The truth seared deeper than any blow. Kaito had raised a legacy—strong, righteous, enduring. Malakar had devoured his.
They fought again, but now, Malakar was no longer the predator—only prey. He attacked with desperation, not domination. Kaito remained calm, every move precise, his aura blazing with the serenity of justice.
As the battle reached its zenith, Kaito guided them to a nexus point—a crossroads of realities. There, he executed his final technique: The Seal of Eternal Flow, drawing power from his own soul to bind space and time.
A flurry of strikes—Ten Thousand Iron Truths—broke through Malakar's final defenses. Kaito's palm struck his core.
Malakar screamed as his connection to the Source ruptured. His form crumbled, reduced to a flickering wraith of himself.
Kaito, unwavering, summoned strands of omniversal fabric, weaving them into a prison. The Omni-Lock snapped shut.
It was done.
Exhausted but at peace, Kaito turned away. He had not destroyed Malakar. He had contained him—stripped him of power and locked away his madness.
He walked slowly, the weight of eternity on his shoulders.
But he also carried something else—hope.
His son would rise. Others would follow. And the true path of martial arts, forged in sacrifice and truth, would live on.
He whispered to the silence:
"They must protect tomorrow. Even when I no longer can."