The temperature didn't just drop; it died. The heat signature of Anipla Planet plummeted from a stable room temperature to a staggering -150 degrees Celsius in a fraction of a second. The moisture in the air materialized into millions of floating, razor-sharp needles of frost that hung suspended between the two opposing forces.
High above, in the silent vacuum of the solar system, Admiral Freezer remained stationary. He didn't move a single muscle, nor did he descend toward the surface. He simply existed. Yet, his disembodied aura was so colossal that it formed a visible ring of frozen violet cosmic dust around Anipla Planet, slowly crushing the planetary shields with pure gravitational mass. Every living soul on the ground felt the crushing weight of his distant gaze.
"They're coming," Muntahan warned, his sensory aura flickering like a dying candle under the immense pressure. "Teams 4 and 5, bracket formation! Don't let them split us!"
Before Faizan could even bark an order, the first strike landed.
Admiral Cy, the first female among the four vanguard generals, moved with a terrifying, silent grace. She didn't wield a weapon; she was the weapon. Raising her slender fingers, she unleashed a wave of Absolute-Zero Frostbite.
"Stand back!" Draz shouted, stepping forward to intercept. He pushed his Chronos-Sink to its absolute threshold, creating a localized time-dilation field to freeze Cy's frostwave in mid-air. But the cold was too absolute. The frost didn't slow down; it literally froze the concept of the timeline itself. Draz's time-shield shattered like brittle glass, the feedback throwing him backward into a pile of rubble, coughing up blood.
"My turn," boomed a deep, cavernous voice.
Admiral Cold, a hulking colossus of dense, glacial muscle that dwarfed even Uiihi, stepped forward. He didn't use technique—he used raw, crushing matter. With a massive, ice-encrusted fist, he slammed the ground. A shockwave of dense, heavy tundra shattered the tectonic plates of the plaza.
Faizan and Krodh met the strike together. Krodh's skin shifted into its densest obsidian state, while Faizan coated his fists in raw, vibrating kinetic force. The collision was deafening. The sheer weight of Admiral Cold's pressure forced both frontline tanks into the dirt, their legs burying into the cracking stone as they struggled to hold back the giant's overwhelming physical strength.
From behind the giant, a deceptively innocent chuckle echoed.
"You guys look so serious! Let's cool those hot heads down!" giggled Admiral Atlanta another female Admiral. Despite her cute appearance, miniature pigtails of spun ice, and a small stature, her eyes carried the hollow vacancy of a mass murderer. She spun a pair of elegant ice-fans, and the atmospheric light scattered into a blinding, hypnotic kaleidoscope of Glass-Ice Prisms.
Saad, Nehal, and Shoaib rushed to counter her.
Shoaib attempted to bend the light to blind her, but Atlanta's prisms redirected his light attacks, turning them into freezing laser beams that sliced through the surrounding buildings. Nehal unleashed a high-frequency acoustic blast to shatter her fans, but Atlanta simply giggled, using her ice-fans to create a freezing vacuum that swallowed the sound waves whole, turning the sound into solid, frozen blocks of air that crashed heavily to the ground.
Then came the blur.Admiral Meru, a slim, wire-thin warrior wearing ancient Icerian robes, vanished from sight. Meru wasn't just fast; he was the Duke's childhood friend and longest-serving general, possessing a refined mastery over Frictionless Frost. He slid across the battlefield like a phantom, bypassing Team 4's defensive line entirely.
Bayu and Asadullah tried to intercept him. Asadullah ignited his War-Drive, turning into a streak of golden-lightning, while Bayu commanded a localized hurricane of metallic blades.
But Meru was entirely frictionless. Asadullah's lightning strikes literally slipped off Meru's aura without making contact. In a flash of cold silver steel, Meru delivered three rapid, pinpoint slashes. Bayu's metallic hurricane was scattered, and Asadullah was sent crashing into a nearby wall, his lightning severely suppressed by the freezing film Meru left behind.
At the center of the chaos stood Lam. His gauntlet was throwing frantic, red warning codes as the central cybernetic spine of his Sicnecal Bin logo glowed a volatile, bleeding violet. The floating digital eyes from his sketch were spinning wildly, unable to calculate the combined frequencies of five world-ending threats at once.
"Is this... the limit of our math?" Lam muttered, his knuckles whitening as he looked at his battered brothers and allies.
THE ICERIAN MULTIVERSE: A DESOLATE TOMB
Meanwhile, millions of light-years away, Frostera the Duke emerged from his spatial portal, retreating into the heart of his home territory—the Icerian Multiverse. He had fled Mufasa's terrifying 25th Form to regroup, expecting to find his multi-universal empire standing strong, ready to reinforce him.
But as the Duke stepped onto the central hub planet of his domain, his breath caught in his throat.
There were no palaces left. There were no grand citadels, no standing armies, and no Icerian fleets patrolling the starlight. The countless billions of Icerian warriors who had conquered 39 trillion universes were gone.
The entire universe was an empty, echoing void of gray ash.
Standing in the absolute center of this dead cosmos, completely alone, was the Five-Armed Man.
He wasn't fighting. He wasn't casting spells. He was simply standing there, his five arms casually resting at his sides, his lower right hand idly holding his cosmic plunger. There wasn't a single soldier left alive for him to strike. He had completely cleaned out the entire Icerian Multiverse by himself, turning a multi-universal empire into a silent, digital graveyard.
The Five-Armed Man slowly turned his head, his central third eye blinking as he locked gazes with the horrified Duke.
"Oh, look," the Five-Armed Man said, his voice echoing hollowly through the empty space. "The King finally came home to check his trash."
CLIFFHANGER:
Back on Anipla, the four Admirals combine their auras, preparing to freeze the entire planet's core, while the Five-Armed Man raises his cosmic drum in the dead Icerian Multiverse, preparing to delete the Duke where he stands.