Name: Dean Tyronus Starfield
Age: 22
Planet: ???
Country: ???
City: ???
Location: Train tracks
Month: ???
Day: ???

Dean continued to walk, 1 hour after the start of his journey and he still saw nothing besides nature, well, not really.

Half an hour ago he passed through a bridge, it could have been his imagination but after looking right, where a river passed through he managed to see what seemed like buildings.

He couldn't really tell by the distance, many trees were in the way and he didn't have his glasses, his Myopia especially didn't let him see anything clearly.

He also observed other... Interesting things, the sun for example it's... He couldn't really explain it properly but, it didn't feel like Sol.

Had he not been present during that fight he would never have noticed it.

Even after the father and son duo stopped fighting there was still an almost unnoticeable aura emanating from their bodies, pressing down on him and everyone in that place.

Perhaps it was due to the fact he never felt or experienced it before, but after that fight, he became extremely sensitive to it.

It isn't a power or an extra sense, no it's more like, well, imagine... a man who has never eaten any chocolate, or anything sweet for that matter.

Describing the taste of sweet things for him is simply impossible, he doesn't have a reference to it, no sense of what the word even means in the first place, dictionary or not he will not be able to put a meaning into it.

No, only after feeding him a chocolate bar will he understand what the word 'sweet' means.

That is to say, only the 'sense' matters, only by tasting it can he understand it, in this case, words are worthless.

This is the same for him, see, tens of thousands of years ago humanity's ancestors had the ability to detect danger on an intuitive level.

That is to say, they looked, smelled, heard, or sensed something wrong with their surroundings, and even before consciously realizing it they gained a 'gut instinct' that told them something was wrong.

Star's situation is related to these two things, after thousands of years where those 'gut feelings' remained unused they reawakened within him after he got the 'taste' of true danger, or more specifically true power.

He isn't special, not by any extension of the word, for that matter neither does he have a secret power.

He holds no illusion of power or talent, the only reason he gained this new sense is because of how absurd the two Hanmas are.

The auras of the two strongest creatures were truly monstrous to have done something as insane as reawakening a multi thousand year old dormant sense in the human genome.

The sheer intensity of their aura made him, or perhaps his body/soul? remember the feeling of it hence allowing him to subconsciously sense it and compare it to their aura.

The ogre's blood blasting him with killing intent for 2 entire days even while he slept managed to strengthen this sense even more.

Something that turned him into a light sleeper, he doubts he'd ever even wake up to see that blue and black tunnel before the suction force became painful and threw him into whenever he is right now otherwise.

He knows what danger 'tastes like' now, what strength 'feels like'.

And it's exactly because of this that he doesn't like the sun, why he is so sure that thing isn't Sol.

How to say it... The sun is an inanimate object, it doesn't produce an aura of strength around itself even though it is undoubtedly millions of times stronger than any creature on Earth.

For a time after that fight, he asked himself why that is, the answer came not long after.

It is simple actually, as Yuchiro Hanma proved, souls exist, perhaps not an afterlife but souls most definitely exist.

The existence of one soul does not in any way prove he himself has one, he'd never assume such a thing without proof.

Fortunately he gained just that, but at the moment it doesn't matter.

What matters is that if his theory is correct, souls are the source of the strength of each of those men.

Spec proved that much, his incessant hours of frantic research on the internet and dark web proved to be much more enlightening than anything else.

But that doesn't matter right now, what matters is that according to his theory, only creatures with souls can produce 'warped space' by exuberating their power.

And right now, the sun is the same, each second he felt a pressure in the light hitting his skin, like a small waterfall continuously falling on him.

In other words, if his theory is to be believed that thing up in the sky might just be alive enough to have a soul, if not that at least some form of will.

Two equally terrifying possibilities.

thump*

But even then...

Thump*

Fear will never stop him again.

Thump!*

More importantly, If whatever created this world has any sanity then perhaps that thing doesn't have sentience.

Even still, It is unnerving, the pressure is absurd, for someone that lived under Sol's invigorating light the power behind each photon hitting his skin is nothing short of mind breaking.

A lesser man might just lose him mind to it, the conflicting normalcy of two different realities breaking their minds.

Three days ago, if he could sense such a thing he is sure that it would have broken him, the feeling of constant danger, like at any moment a trunk could fall from this 'small waterfall' and end his life.

To be more precise it feels like he is in front of a tiger, one preparing to pounce on him.

Just by seeing it any human would feel tense, anxious for the inevitable attack that would surely end their life.

Whatever the animal wanted to play or truly attack was irrelevant, its power over them already makes it so their lives at the mercy of it.

He only lives because it allows him to, and at any moment, for any reason, logical or not, it can simply change its mind.

The mere situation, something that can very well be simply in his mind fills him with impotent rage.

Not an unfamiliar emotion, unfortunately.

How ridiculous, the sun, something that shouldn't even be alive makes him feel impotent.

Still... It is of no matter, Katsumi Orochi, Pickle, Baki Hanma Kaku Kaioh, Yujiro Hanma, and even Sol, he will surpass them all, or die trying.

Curiously, there is another peculiarity in this world, there is... Something all around him, rubbing against his skin, entering through his nose, mouth, ears, and even eyes.

It's the man and the sweet all over again, whatever is surrounding him, earth doesn't have it.

Although... he felt something similar when Yuchiro Hanma appeared.

Well, as similar as water and oil, that is to say even while being completely different, both are liquids.

When that man appeared he felt power, not the same as Yujiro and Baki but... Different, different but not alien, it was there, it was always there now that he thinks about it.

Ignored, much like how the brain ignores one's nose it also ignores the existence of something so ordinary, so... Normal, constant.

It isn't around him, no, not in the air but... Inside like... Like, like a soul, his soul.

The definite proof that he in fact has one, and that in the end, the only reason for not being better is truly solely himself.

That is not the case with whatever is surrounding him, it's alien, external, but not unnatural, at least, it doesn't feel like it.

And it's exactly because of that that he can sense it, he might not know what it is but his senses, his very soul mind knows it shouldn't be here.

And if he can feel it, just like how he can sense that that thing isn't Sol, it most likely means that, if not a soul, whatever is surrounding him is alive enough to have a mind, a spirit.

An ambition.

It isn't like radiation, radiation can't be felt, it doesn't have a presence, this... This does.

And how he knows it isn't simply his mind playing tricks on him? Well, simple, the ogre's blood is glowing.

Well, glowing more, and it's getting stronger, both the light and the maniac emotions he is feeling from it.

Glee, excitement, euphoria, and most of all... Malice.

He... doesn't think he will survive long enough to reach the city he saw earlier if this continues.

Not that it matters really, he's still going to inject himself with that thing, his hopes for survival are practically none.

'But when did survival ever depend on hope? It depends on strength.'

He looks down, at the glowing crimson Vial of blood, and brings it to his eye level.

"Your bloodline, your abilities, your potential, everything you have, no matter how long it takes, Will. Be. Made. Mine."

The pressure around him skyrocketed, the last 2 days might as well have been nothing compared to what it released now.

It wants him dead, more than it ever did before.

The pressure is big, big enough to stop him cold, to make his body tremble, to make him want to piss himself.

But there's something the demon forgot.

He doesn't fear death, pain, or even it.

What he fears, is staying the same, and that alone is why it will never be able to intimidate him.

Scoffing loudly Dean puts the vial inside his shirt.

Even if sentient, blood is still blood, maybe in the past it could try to give him a heart attack but now? Now it will have to wait until he finds a goddam syringe to attempt to kill him.

Squirting his eyes Dean put his hand above his eyebrows to block the ~~Abimonation's~~ Sun's light.

"Oh?"

A smile graced his lips as he saw something.

Less than 500 meters away there stood a small train station, weirdly enough it seemed smaller than normal.

Walking faster he prepared to meet the locals, judging by the buildings he could at least tell they were civilized.

The chances they speak the same language as him are 0 but even then he's confident that as long as they are not too alien he can speak through symbols and body language.

He only hopes they aren't murder happy, or racist for that matter.

!̶͚̹̙͇͌̈́̆̉̏̾̈̏̓͘͘͝&̶̨͙̦̥̙͚͚̪͙̣̻͇̺̻͒̈́̋͜%̷͎̘̿̃̓̑̈͝!̵̧̨̧̳̣̝̙̺̗͕̦̱̘̑̄̔́͜ͅ¢̶̈͂̆͒̉͌̒̃̈́̽̇͜!̸̤̗̘̞̣͊̉̀̐́̉̃͑̇̍̒͝$̷̭̦̟̘̇̀̀̓͐̐́̕͝#̸̧͉͉̘̬͔͓̠͎̊́̔̔͛!̵̬̞̯̭͙̝̆̏̉̈́̈́̆́̄̈͜!̸̧̡̢̧͉͎͈͚͎̹̙̌̔̐͌̾͠!̶̨̧̺̺̮͓̏̐́

"!!"

He almost fell as a sudden burst of pure malice exploded from his chest.

Thump!*

Thump!!*

Thump!!!*

"⋔⍜⋏⌇⏁⟒⍀!"

Far away he heard something shout, had he been paying attention he would have acknowledged it.

Unfortunately for him, something much more important took place in his mind, a decade-old habit that he never bothered to dismiss.

He was analyzing the intention of the Ogre's blood.

You see, Dean was always a weird child, besides being somewhat of a nerd obsessed with accurate power scaling he also liked to find secrets hidden between words, gestures and actions.

It was much like his like for math, he didn't like the numbers as much as he liked the feeling of finally finding the solution to a problem.

The search being much more entertaining than the result in his opinion.

This in particular, combined with his habit of always analyzing powers and phrases in his favorite books made it so he gained the habit of trying to deduce the potential evolution of certain things, those being powers, characters, objects, and even science.

To do this he first stripped everything to its basic components, like how a freezing spell would have to have a certain aspect of "Molecular Kinetic manipulation" to form ice.

Or like how a time-stop power would have to rely on Quantum Entanglement and Synchronization to synchronize the quantum states of all particles within the affected area.

But that doesn't matter now, what matters is that his mind, even while his body stood frozen in place managed to comprehend what the Ogre's blood was trying to do.

The first thing he realized was that there was no killing intent behind the blast of malice.

This did not confuse him, no, it made him arrive at a worrying conclusion.

The blood knows very well it can't kill him of a heart attack, the thing had a -And he really couldn't describe it as anything else- supernatural ability to, if not read his mind, at least to detect his current mental state.

As if not frightening enough he could swear the thing could do more than just force its killing intent and anger in his head.

Considering he started hearing a muffled voice in his head if he stayed too long close to the thing he didn't doubt the fact that Yujiro Hnama might just be a psychic.

A dot appeared in the sky, it approached rapidly.

Intelligent, evil, and murderous, what does the thing hope to accomplish by blasting its malice all around?

He can't tell how far its reach truly is, dozens of meters? Hundreds? Thousands? It isn't clear, what is clear however is that this blast isn't meant for him.

No, it doesn't want to frighten him, or any other animal, if it did it would back its blast with actual strength not just malice, that would send the bravest of animals running away to the hills.

Strong or not, predator or not, animals are just that, if the threat is too high and they aren't backed into a corner most will run.

The blast wasn't meant to scare anything, it was meant to provoke, it was meant to be a show of strength.

The dot approached rapidly, from this distance he could only see blue.

'I am here!' 'Look how strong I am!' 'Come!' 'I'll rip you apart!' That is what it was screaming, normally it would certainly make any creature run for the hills, but... not in this case.

Without killing intent and the sense of strength backing up these words the blast of malice instead of being interpreted as the claim of a strong being marking its territory would be understood as the provocation of a far too cocky, stupid creature asking to die.

A blue blur mixed with the colors of the rainbow approached rapidly, it was too fast.

Or perhaps a monster in need of being put down.

The blue reached him, even this close he couldn't properly see the creature.

The only thing he managed to do before the impact was blink.

"⏁⏃☍⟒ ⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⋔⍜⋏⌇⏁⟒⍀!"

Crack!*

Something hard hit his chest, surprisingly the first thing he felt was not pain but the vial of blood breaking.

The next moment, not even a second later the shards cut open his skin and ripped through his muscles as whatever hit him pressed them deeper into his body.

His vision blurred, his pupils expanded, he could not see anything anymore.

It was painful, he had never felt pain like this before, still, it was not agonizing, and so, like always before, he refused to cry, refused to shout.

Something that became a challenge as his ribs snapped like twigs.

Had they not been forced further back as whatever hit him kept going he would have had the strength to scream.

Fortunately, the agony of having his own bones puncturing through his heart and lung was more than enough to take the air out of him.

He'd rather agonize on the ground than give his attacker the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

Enough of it had already happened for a lifetime.

By some miracle, instead of continuing and going through him the thing either stopped its charge or lost enough force for his body to be thrown back.

Had he had his vision or maybe if the pain wasn't so great he would have been impressed at how far and fast his tumbling, limp body flew through the air.

5 meters in a single hit, something worthy of praise he'd say.

Unfortunately, his mind was far too occupied with other things, or more precisely, a single thought.

He will die.

Even as he hit the ground and rolled after each collision he couldn't help but think of it.

Death

It was weird, the thought came to his mind despite the pain he felt.

His chest burned, a momentary sensation of dread consumed him for but one second before vanishing.

"⊬⟒⏃⊑ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⏁⊑⏃-"

He felt weirdly calm as his body finally landed on the ground for the last time.

He couldn't breathe, he tried, he couldn't move his muscles, he tried, all he could do was move his eyes, yet, he kept trying.

A weird sensation surged from his still beating heart, like something slimy was forcing its way in.

His fist clenched as he slowly moved his arms, trying without rest to reach his chest to block the wound.

The movement was not born out of desperation, no, he was never afraid of death, perhaps before seeing Yuchiro Hanma he felt somewhat apprehensive at the thought of perishing one day but after seeing the soul of that man?

The fear of the end never again managed to find a foothold in his spirit.

Even now, agonizing with a previous unimaginable amount of pain and the knowledge nothing else but a miracle could ever hope to save him.

Even still, he kept moving until, finally, even with his life leaving him, he managed to touch his chest.

Defiance.

The reason for which he still moved.

Not desperation, not some ridiculous sense that he could perhaps manage to keep himself alive long enough for help to arrive, no.

Even agonizing as he is he made sure to remind himself of who he wants to be, and who he wants to kill.

The man he hates would surely accept his fate, lie down, and wait for an inevitable death, knowing full well there is no hope for him, that salvation is all but impossible.

He? The man he is right now? He feels nothing but regret and contempt.

Regret at not being able to even take the first step into his dream, contempt at himself, for not being able to do anything to save himself.

He could blame God, Fate, or even the universe because of his situation, and more likely than not he'd be right to do but no.

He had enough.

Even if right he doesn't want for even a smidge of the pathetic thing he was to come back.

For this, he blames none but himself, and that is why he keeps moving.

Those men showed defiance in the face of reality, if it would not allow them to grow they'd just have to burst right through it.

"⍜⊑ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁!"

Just like he has to burst through it to survive.

Idiotic? Perhaps, what could he do against being kidnapped to another world? Or being hit so hard his bones snapped? Nothing right? Nothing at all.

Just like how he could do nothing to reach those men right? Always an excuse, right around the corner for Dean Tyronus Starfield right?!

No, enough is enough, the impossible is only so because no one has done it before.

Yujiro Hanma trained until he became stronger than a Country, something thought impossible.

Katsumi Orochi Imagined himself with a body able to deliver a mach 78 punch something thought impossible.

Kaku kaioh could punch at a snail's pace and still break concrete something thought impossible.

Baki Hanma could imagine himself like water and burst right through his maximum speed instantly, something that, needless to say, no matter how much you trained, should be impossible.

Spec, a 97 year old man managed to keep his youth just by being ambitious, just by craving for something so much he wouldn't allow himself to age before getting it something thought impossible.

All these men did something considered 'Impossible' 'illogical' pff ridiculous, after that fight Tyronus came to realize the word 'Logic' only served to limit one's growth.

He doesn't need it.

It is just as before, when he blamed his circumstances, other people and even the universe for his situation, for not being able to escape the hole he created for himself.

No.

The time for excuses already passed, impossible or not, illogical or not the only culprit for his current situation Is. Him.

{̴̨̛̛̜̱͔̻͈̟̝̺̩̹̭̺͙̰̖̻̣̫̤̭͎̤̳̼̬̩͚̫̪̰̣̭̝̞̪̭̝͕̼̝̥̖̱̲͉͕̹̺͉͇͚͎̞͖̟̽͊̀͛͆̾̈́̊̾͗̂̈́͋̀̓̿̂̾̇͊̽̀͂̆͑̄͋̑͌̀̑̓̐͂̇͂̓̊̈́̽̋̕͘̕̕̚̕͝͝͠ͅ#̸̡͕͎̘̳̙̥̩̺̜̖̳̫̰̞̳̰͔͔̥̫͕̫̰͔̬̹̞̗̤̯͚̖̺̳͙̜͎̗͓̗̩̣̱͍̯̖̲͙̟̔̒̌͌͊̔̈̄̒̄̈́͊̈̂̚̚̕͜͠͠͝ͅͅ°̷̡̧̛̞͈̝̟͇̟͙͙̼͈̟̦̯̤̺̝̭͕͉͎̻̬̝̦͍̝̙͙͎͔͎͕̗͚̺̜̣̓̅̏̀̈́̏̀̀͛̿̒̿́̑̂̿͜͜͠©̴͚̯̝̗̝͐͂̀̈̈͊͛̿̒̽̎̈́̄͗͘℅̴̡̢̧̨̛̣͉̹̩̟̜͚̜̙̞͙͖͉̳̣̗̣̯̘͇̠̩̻̞̰̲̯̞̞́̀̄̊͑͋̽̉̄̒͗͊͒̃̈́̈́͗̚̕͜ͅͅͅ®̴̢̧̨̡̦͍̺̥̣̦̰͔̮̩̞̹̲̙͖̹͔͓̟̱͕͕̰̪͕͈̠̮̳̻͈͉̥͉̖̬̯̦̹͕̹͔͓̘̘̪̭̪̹̭̉͂͆͗͐̈́͒͊̄̀̓̓͐͐̂͗̀̎̀̏̏̂̕͜͠ͅ√̴̧̧̛̛̛̹͖͙̤̣͎̫̬̩̦̳͇͓͈̤͈͇͉̹̠̞̬̮͙͈͉̪̞̀́̅̌̋͌̎͐̒̄̿̆͗̿̓̇͒̅͋̽̽͂̂͌̀̓̇̊͛̔̉̀͌̇́̂̊̈͂̊͑̔͌̓͋̿̆̋̚̕͘͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅ∆̶̨̛͇̫̫͚͙͖̝̪̰̠͓̖̹̰̫͍̳͖̪̦͕̦̺̯̭̤͕̰͔̱̥͛̓́̅͛̽͆̆̓̄̃̈́̈́́̀̇̓̒̕͜͜ͅ¶̴̨̨̡̢̢̧̢̢̛̱̲͈̹̦̘̫̮͈͇͙̟͖͚̩̙͇̬͇̜̹̬̺̝̺̼͙̼̰͙̗̼̰̜͔͇̲͙͍͎̱̥̻̑͆̈͗̇̒̌̽̈́̈͗̆͒̊̂̓͂̒̊̄́̀́̀̾̄̍͗̈́̈́̈́̓̏̄́̐͌̽͌̾͑͊̀̌̈́͌̚͘͜͝͝&̴̡̡̢̢̧̡̛̖̫͍͚̺͙̬̤̱̳̮̱͔͙̘̮͍̱̤̫͓̤̥̖͕̬̬̰̟̱͙̗̹̩̱̭̯͇̭͓̠̮̯̱̗͚̞̬̪̥̬̃̈́͊̽̍̎͒͆̔̐̏́͌̀̓̀̇̎͌̿͊̊͑̒̄͋́̾͒̃̆̒̈́̆̂̅̓̔̎̿̈́͑̌̑͗͜͜͝͝͝

Pain coursed through his entire body, this time, far greater than anything he had ever felt before.

His mouth opened in a silent scream of agony, with his left lung punctured this was all he could do.

"⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜ ⋏⍜⋏⍜⋏⍜⋏⍜⍜⍜⍜⍜⍜!"

He didn't need to look at his chest to know what was happening, the feeling of a thousand lightning ants crawling through his heart, biting, cutting, and ripping was more than enough to know what was happening.

The ogre's blood was consuming him.

And against all odds, against everything that happened, he smiled.

It seems like he will be able to at least do one last thing before dying.

"...ha....hahahahaha."

Digging his fingers through his chest he held his heart.

And squeezed it.

Not a second later something forced his hand away, he was too weak to resist.

He still tried.

The thing held his corpse as black spots formed in his vision, the last thing he heard was the voice of what he assumed to be a woman.

Even while speaking gibberish... It sounded weirdly similar to a panicked girl.

"⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟ ⌇⍙⟒⏃⍀ ⟟⋏ ⋔⊬ ⋏⏃⋔⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⍜⋏'⏁ ⎅⟟⟒"

Strength left his body as he felt himself being carried through the air.

His eyes slowly closed.

His body slowly forced him to sleep.

The ogre's blood ran rampant through his veins.

He kept fighting it every step of the way.
_____________________________________________________

Name: Dean Tyronus S̵̱̯̲̈́̊̈́̽̐́ẗ̸̢͎͎̼͎̪̞̫̩͜͝͝@̷̢̢͎̙̲̩̬͉̠͉̫̖̟̪̪̈́͗͊͂̄͆̏̇͐r̶̨̹̗̲̤̭͖̻̀̇¢̶̢̥̪̟̬̖̗̗̗̳̀̋͛&̸̢̨͙͍͖̣̞͙͍̰͒̇̈̓̀͊̎̽̀́͝€̶̨̨̗͔̪̙̱̹͚̪̦̣̺̼͛̊͂͘͠͝∆̵̛̫͖̞̥̬̉͊̅̈́̽̕͜d̸̟͔̅̽͐̈́̂̄̄̌ H̵̛̦̯͙̩̯͙̰̥̻͇͌̐̓́̽̃͗̔̆̆̓̀̈̾̐͂̒̚͘͜͜͝͝ͅͅ∆̴̡͍̯͔̳̪̟̩̝̙̥͖̱͇̬̲͇͖̳̦͓̜̺͎̯̈́͛̑͂͘͜π̸͖͍̙̗͍͎̳̤̾̍̑́̍̿̔́̈́͌̓͆͝ṃ̴̹͇̹̱̻̩̈͌͐̌̏͗̉͐̌̄͐̄͑̅̅͋͌̒͊͆͘@̸̧̛̠̱͇̗̘̳͍̲̹̠̀̂͒̂̚͝
Age: 22 3̸̠̜̩̺̱͎͐͆̐̆̅̆͐7̶̧̲̭̱̹̂
Plane: ???
Location: ?̵̛̟̪͖͚̰͓̗̄̌͑̕?̶̢̹̺̻̰̊̽͌̒?̷̤͚͍͈̼͓̺̍̓̾̌̓̓̿?̵̢̨̼̄͝?̵̠͔̖̪͗
T&m¶o: ?̵̛̟̪͖͚̰͓̗̄̌͑̕?̶̢̹̺̻̰̊̽͌̒?̷̤͚͍͈̼͓̺̍̓̾̌̓̓̿?̵̢̨̼̄͝?̵̠͔̖̪͗

Slowly Dean opened his eyes, only to suddenly jump and snap his face toward his chest.

"Wha-?"

His eyes widened as he looked at himself, the hole he expected to see on his chest was not there, for that matter, neither was his skin, nor his muscles, nor his nones, nor his body.

'Transparent'

That is the only word he can use to describe what he is seeing, his entire body now has a white ethereal glow to it, this in itself being the only thing that gives him any type of depth.

Considering the fact that the rest of his body is completely transparent that is.

Had he any air he would have sighed.

Unfortunately, souls don't have lungs.

Ah, yes he made the connection almost instantly, his form resembled that of Yuchiro Hanma far too much for him not to.

'So... I died.' He thought while looking blankly at his arms.

Regret came flowing into his soul, he squashed it instantly.

Dead men don't need regrets, there's nothing they can do about them anyway.

Looking forward he gazed upon his surroundings.

White.

All he can see is white, no shadows, no depth, no sense of where he even is.

Only white.

Without noticing he started to walk forward.

Only to pause as he suddenly felt something weird.

His body, from feet to arms started to tremble.

"Huh?"

It isn't fear, of that he is sure, no, the feeling in itself is different, more importantly, it is one he is deeply familiar with for the past month.

Exhaustion.

And for some reason... Determination?

The connection came instantly.

His eyes widened.

Something happened, between the point of his likely death to where he is now something happened, of that he is sure.

He is not an idiot, much to the contrary he'd describe himself as an intelligent man in certain areas.

He might have wasted his intelligence on useless things but his analyst mind did not leave him since he was little.

Even in 'death' it stays with him.

And so, he is sure, that something messed with his mind, something made him forget.

And it might have done it more than once.

Fortunately, while his mind forgot, his soul did not.

Exhaustion proved his spirit passed through something grueling, that it struggled through something, maybe even that it fought against something.

Of course, for all he knows his soul could have simply had a hard time going to whatever afterlife Earth has from a universe away.

But... The feeling of determination proves it otherwise.

He knows himself, he knows his Self really, really well, above all he knows how hard it is for him to feel determined.

Unless a very long time passed and he changed heavily during it this is the only option he sees being possible.

Seeing that fight awakened his determination after years of inactivity, quite honestly, nothing below his desire to improve, and a scene equal to that fight ever has the hope of doing the same.

Crossing a universe would never have awakened the feeling, it would just have made him bored.

In other words.

Whatever happened, whatever he can't remember, is related to his dream.

He doesn't feel any kind of despair or resignation, meaning even after potentially having lost, he isn't out quite yet.

His dream... Is not over yet.

thump*

Thump*

Thump*

Even without a heart, he heard its sound.

Excitement and Resolve flooded him being, slowly, minuscule amounts of his strength came back to him as a wild smile full of teeth formed in his mouth.

Ţ̴̢̗̪̮̰̩̠̗͈͚̻̺̳̀͊̊͛̀͒͑̈́̃͝͠͝͝͝π̸̛̛̫͙̙͕͔̊̋͌͠∆̶̢̡̠̦̓̍̅̍ḋ̶̨͙̞̟̯̳̰̫̗̄͐̈́̄̀̂̈̈́͛ͅ!̸̺̪̘̟̦̼̝̻̳̹̉͒̈́͋̈́́̚ͅͅ

Pain surged from his jaw as something hard hit him, momentarily he noticed the distinct sound of breaking bones reaching his ears as his body flew away spinning through the air in an uncontrollable spiral turning his vision into a blurred mess.

Thud*

Falling on the white ground he quickly got up and touched his now dislocated jaw, acting quickly he snapped it into place, even then, the feeling did not leave his soul.

Pain? He can still feel pain?

'This... Is not good.'

Pain surges to inform the body that something is wrong, that something damaged it, or that it isn't working as it should.

He is a disembodied soul, pain shouldn't be a factor unless...

'My soul mirrors my body giving me the same feedback as a living, breathing human, this... is the optimist option.'

'The not so optimist one is where something truly dangerous found me, something that can in fact harm my soul.'

What passed as his muscles tensed.

'Possibly even destroy it.'

'Of course, there is the possibility that the soul is more similar to the body than I am comfortable with but... it's unlikely, if that were the case the existence of the soul would be much more easily proved with science.'

Something that is clearly not the case.

Shaking his head he snapped his body toward his attacker and put his guard up.

"!"

Only to freeze at the sight in front of him.

His eyes widened.

His muscles tensed.

His body trembled.

This time, out of fear.

There, not even fifteen meters away stood a crimson humanoid, looking at him with what he could only describe as a rage-filled smile.

A paradoxical expression as the man seemed to be both excited and murderous in equal measure.

He supposes a man like him enjoys making his prey suffer.

He did not tremble more, not because he was fearless, but because he couldn't, his body was completely stiff, frozen like a popsicle.

It is taller, much more than him, no, wait, it just felt like it was, a form of 1,90 meters seemed to grow over to 3 as the white space quaked.

The demon's rage being enough to make even this place tremble.

"Y-y-y-."

Dean stammered as his legs trembled, in a meager second they lost all their strength.

His disdain of being seen in any vulnerable way was the only thing that stopped him from falling.

"You Fat Fuck, did you really think you could steal from me and get away with it?"

Space trembled as the air around the ogre distorted, an aura of pure rage and killing intent exuberated from the ~~man~~ monster, hitting him with full force.

tt*
Ttt*
Tttttt*
Tttttttttt*
Tttttttttttttttttt!*

His teeth chattered rapidly as whatever passed for his heart beat crazily in his soul.

'Nothing' He thought while struggling to not pass out.

The bursts of malice and killing intent from the past days, even combined were truly nothing compared to what he was experiencing now.

If before, while in front of that ambulance, he could see himself dying, now, in front of the Ogre the visions came together with the pain.

Each and every single strike, he could feel it all, his skull shattering, the demon crushing his head, agonizing in pain while a first busted through his chest.

Not being able to even scream as his leg was ripped off by a casual kick, feeling a horrible sensation all through the middle of his entire body as the Ogre ripped him in half.

Hearing the sound of tearing flesh as a kick ripped his head out.

Crushed, punched through, maimed, ripped in half, decapitated, killed again, and again, and again, he felt it all.

A fear unlike any other he had ever felt before took a hold of his soul, he couldn't move, much like a deer gazing into the eyes of a tiger, knowing its inevitable demise but still hoping against all odds it would ignore him, he froze up, unable to do anything as the Ogre slowly walked toward him.

Each step, each second that passed only worsened as the Ogre's aura grew stronger and stronger the closer he got.

The fear he feels is not one any human has ever felt before, no creature for that matter, after all, the worst that could happen to them was death, perhaps torture.

But to him? This was a soul-deep fear, one where every fiber of his being knows.

Knows that this will be the end, that there won't be anything after the demon is done with him.

The strongest creature opened his mouth and started to talk, he didn't pay attention, his mind was in too much turmoil for him to notice anything else.

The visions didn't stop, neither did the pain, had he been in his body he would have already died multiple times over, his heart having stopped beating out of sheer shock.

But, above all, above the fear, and even above the 'death' in the end, all his thoughts centered around one thing.

'It isn't fair.'

Yes, while suffering through something no human has ever passed through, all he could think of was how 'It isn't fair'.

He was never a religious person, he never thought he had a soul or that the afterlife existed, and... he was fine with it, honestly.

The idea of 'stop existing' after he died, he never felt fear from it, just apprehension, after Yuchiro Hnama's appearance and his confirmation of possessing a soul even that left him.

But now? Inside this white space? Facing the Ogre without any hope of winning and with almost 100% certainty that if he lost he'd truly stop existing?

All he could think about was how it wasn't fair.

What did he do to deserve this? Why does the universe hate him so much? He did everything he could, it isn't his fa-

'No.'

Slap!

The ogre stopped and looked at Dean with an incredulous expression, as if not understanding what had happened.

He slapped himself, just... not with his hands, no, he couldn't move them, his soul was still frozen.

Even then... Without his hands, or even moving for that matter, he slapped himself, something that surprised even himself.

'How?'

Simple, the soul might have the form of his body, but it is not limited by any part of it.

Slapping himself is as easy as willing it to happen.

And so he did.

And as he thought, it happened.

Because the soul, contrary to the bo- no, contrary to HIS body is fully controlled by will, and will alone.

To take another form, to do any action, or even to scratch his head, all he needs to do is will it to happen.

Rapidly his thoughts shifted, abandoning the ridiculous thought process that had turned him into what he is today he wondered.

About the nature of the soul.

If will is the sole variant, one that can even affect matter, that means one very interesting thing.

It means that, at least here, and possibly on earth he isn't as strong as he trains himself to be, no, no, no.

No matter how much iron he lifts he won't go beyond what is 'humanly possible'.

The only way to grow beyond the 'Possible' is to understand that he is as strong as his will allows him to be.

No, not the will derived from some ridiculous chemical reaction in a meat computer inside his head.

It needs to come from the soul because contrary to the brain, most likely than not, it doesn't have a limit of how far it can go.

Putting in other words, here in front of the Ogre, facing the strongest creature this 'fight' isn't one of strength, it's one of will.

Him against the Ogre, here punches, kicks, slaps, all are nothing but metaphors.

They are souls after all, matter has no hold of them here, only their spirits do.

His trembling body receded, and slowly he regained his movement.

But even then, his situation did not improve, how could it? Yujiro Hanma fought since he could walk, he is responsible for the death of thousands killing them with nothing but his bare hands.

Will is not something he can compete against Yujiro Hanma and hope to win.

If his theory is correct, and it has a great chance of being.

Changing one's body with the will and imagination of the soul is something only people on the level of someone like Retsu Kaioh and above can do.

To have so much dedication, so much passion towards something that no human, ordinary or at the peak, has any hope of comparing.

Not the will of being the best of humanity, nor the best of all creatures, but the will to keep going forward no matter what.

They want to have the arm strength greater than the impact of a tsar bomb? Then they will! Why? Because they said so, they don't need any other reason, they will punch, kick, fight, survive, and kill until their fists are able to do it.

Simply because they said so.

What did you say? It's impossible? Ha! Who gives a shit? They will do it anyway, if their bodies aren't able to reach that point then they will just have to force it through and reach it anyway!

Ironically, that would mean their strength doesn't increase because of their training, it increases because during training their will grows, their passion evolves, allowing their souls to change their bodies further, hence, making them stronger.

Meat? Protein? Creatin? No, the will of their souls is the sole fuel their bodies use to grow.

If they lose their will they lose their strength, an internal power capable of rewriting their Selves to the point no man-made weapon can ever surpass their bodies.

Ironically, that means all the fights he witnessed are, in the end, a contest to see who had more passion for their craft, to see whose spirit eclipsed the other.

Their soul against their opponents, a fight for fighting sake and nothing else.

In short, what is happening right now is the most pure form of a fight.

Two souls against each other, each attack representing everything they lived through, all the suffering they had to pass, all the struggle they had to surpass to reach the present and become who they are today.

'He~.' He laughed. 'How the hell, can I even compete?'

The worst of all? He doesn't think they know it, those idiots probably gaslight themselves and everyone else while doing impossible shit, thinking it's completely normal and possible for anyone else to do it too.

And in a way, they aren't wrong.

What do you mean I'm a freak for being able to bite through tungsten? You are the weakling here for not being able to even go through steel, now go and punch that rock wall until you form a perfect ball of stone with your bare fists, and I better not hear you whining about broken bones again.

His heart beat, this time not in fear, but excitement, yes, he seemed to have reached a conclusion, one he desperately wanted to be true.

'Otherwise, how would they be so strong?'

Yes even after years their muscles don't grow, and yet, a decade later they are able to kill their past selves with nothing but a flick of their fingers.

How did he not notice this before? Kaku Kaioh is an old man with just skin and bones, yet his technique Xiaoli made even Yujiro Hanma, earth's strongest creature back away.

A technique that allows that mummy to absorb the whole body weight of his attacker, contain it, and release it in the form of 'The ultimate punch?' What bullshit is this?!

And those idiots think it's normal!

He... he never needed The ogre's blood, did he? He sees it now, all he needed was his soul, passion, and a drive to strive for.

"He...hehe hehehehehe!" He couldn't help but laugh, laugh! At no one but himself.

It seems like, in the end, he was the butt of the joke.

'You know, there's one thing, common in all humans in the world... If you were born a man, at least once in your life, you have dreamed of becoming the strongest.'

And now, despite the ridiculousness of this dream, ignoring all logic Dean Tyronus Starfield's soul burned, with the ridiculous desire of beating the strongest.

Of being better than the Strongest.

Of reaching the unreachable gap between Yujiro Hanma and all of hum- no, not just humanity but all creatures on Earth.

With trembling legs, and tears being forced to stay in his eyes, the fool walked forward.

The Ogre stood still, a bemused expression plastered on his face, his murderous aura receding just a little.

Each step was slow, awkward, and above all, ridiculous, to any who saw it, even still, he continued to walk.

He couldn't stop, he wouldn't let himself stop.

With a determined expression, he punched forward with all his pathetic strength.

CRACK!

Only for the Ogre to slap him in the face, the force of the hit was so great it cracked most of his skull.

Once again his soul spun through the air uncontrollably, the pain he felt only grew as it did so.

Pain... Such an interesting feeling, one that humans hate but can't live without, after all, it proves that they are alive, even now in a certain, different way, it does the same, it proves he is still alive.

That it's not over for him quite yet.

And even... even if that is to be the case in the near future, he truly did not care.

It isn't a feeling born out of fearlessness or apathy, no, he doesn't think he will ever be either of these things, he understands what is about to happen.

The Ogre will erase him, the chances of winning are zero.

Even then... he dreams of winning, he wants to win, more than anything in the world He. Wants. To. Win.

And so, he fought to win, not to survive, not to go down heroically and certainly not to feel less pathetic, no.

Dean Tyronus Starfield, while knowing the impossibility fought to beat the Ogre.

"I don't care... If this is the end."

Huff*
Huff*
Huff*

Breathing heavily he punched the ground.

Pain shot from his fist, he ignored it.

Using both of his arms he lifted himself up.

What could pass as tears tried to form in his eyes, he didn't let them

"I won't go down without swinging Ogre."

CRACK!

The demon kicked him in the chest, not a second later, everything went black.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Slowly Dean opened his eyes, only to suddenly jump and snap his face toward his chest.
_____________________________________________
⋔⍜⋏⌇⏁⟒⍀= Monster!

⏁⏃☍⟒ ⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⋔⍜⋏⌇⏁⟒⍀! = Take this monster!

⊬⟒⏃⊑ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⏁⊑⏃- = Yeah take tha-

⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜, ⋏⍜ ⋏⍜⋏⍜⋏⍜⋏⍜⍜⍜⍜⍜⍜! = no, no, no, NO, NO NONONONOOOOOO!

⍜⊑ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁ ⌇⊑⟟⏁! = Oh Shit shit shit shit!

⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟'⋔ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⊬, ⟟- ⟟ ⌇⍙⟒⏃⍀ ⟟⋏ ⋔⊬ ⋏⏃⋔⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⍜⋏'⏁ ⎅⟟⟒= I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-i swear in my name, You won't die.

Author's Note

Is HIE's fics Rainbow dash is mostly responsible for some kind of conflict with the human character attacking him or something else, it always felt like an exaggeration to me so here, I decided to give her an actual valid reason to attack the Protagonist without making the MC evil or her an asshole.

I had more to post of this chapter but I decided to cut since it wasn't finished and I wanted to post this weekend, my dad is making me work for absolutely no money in one of his goddamn salons so I won't have time to write much.