The Avengers are used to fighting for their lives, but their new teammate just wants to make it home in time for grocery store sales.
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One Punch MCU
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Chapter 1
New
TheLastDreamer
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2026
- Messages
- 2
- Likes received
- 16
Tatsumaki screamed, blood dripping from her nose as she thrust both hands toward the sky. Above her, an entire city block complete with a shattered intersection and a half-collapsed grocery store were slowly drifting up into the clouds. She pulled with every ounce of her power to bring it back down, but the city block continued onto the sky.
A few yards away, Silver Fang was on one knee, his breathing ragged. Beside him, King stood, the legendary King Engine rumbled loudly in his chest. Even Genos, missing his left arm and leaking sparking fluid from his chest plate, could only stare upward in despair.
The sky above Z-City wasn't a sky anymore.
At the center of the tear floated a being that defied the senses. It had no face, no limbs, just a shifting mass of blinding, multi-dimensional shapes.
"TREMBLE, MORTAL FLESH," the being's voice vibrated directly into the marrow of their bones. The pressure alone forced several A-Class heroes in the distance to collapse, clutching their heads. "I AM THE DEVOURER OF PARADIGMS. YOUR REALITY IS BUT A THREAD, AND I HAVE COME TO UNRAVEL IT!"
Tatsumaki's knees buckled. Genos gritted his teeth, his optical sensors flashing red as he calculated their chance of survival as zero. This was it. The end of the world.
A few feet to Genos's right, a white cape flapped lazily in the upward draft.
Saitama scratched his cheek.
He tilted his head, watching the geometric nightmare flash with impossible colors. He brought a red-gloved hand to his face, rubbed his left eye, and let out a long, whistling yawn.
Something was bothering him.
Did I leave the AC running? Saitama thought, his blank, oval eyes staring through the city block. ...No. I unplugged it this morning. ...Good.
He blinked. Another thought surfaced, far more pressing than the floating concrete.
"Hey, Genos," Saitama said, his voice flat.
Genos turned his head, his mechanical eye whirring. "Master! You must fall back! My core is critically damaged, but I will detonate it to buy you and the others a few seconds.."
"Is today Saturday or Sunday?" Saitama interrupted.
Genos froze.
"M-Master?" Genos stammered, the apocalypse momentarily forgotten. "It... it is Saturday. Why?"
Saitama's eyes widened. A bead of sweat formed on his bald head.
Saturday, Saitama panicked. The premium beef is fifty percent off until 7:00 PM. If I miss it again, I'm going to have to eat plain udon for the third night in a row. "BEHOLD THE END OF EPOCHS!" the Devourer boomed. "I SHALL FOLD YOUR DIMENSION INTO DUST! COWER BEFORE HYPERSPACE COLLAPSE!"
The space beneath the entity began to fold inward. A massive, swirling hyperspace gate ripped open, a black hole began to form in the sky, sucking the very light out of the atmosphere. The pressure was immense. The city block collapsed into it, and the ground beneath the heroes began to crack and lift.
Saitama looked at his watch. 6:42 PM.
"Yeah, okay," Saitama muttered.
As king raised his hands in defeat Saitama stepped forward, wound back his right arm, and threw a punch.
The fist hit the air.
For a fraction of a second, silence blanketed the world.
Then, reality itself cracked.
A web of jagged, glowing fractures exploded outward from Saitama's knuckles, shattering the hyperspace gate like glass.
The Devourer ceased to exist.
But the unstable dimensional field didn't just vanish. The crack grew. It splintered downward, opening a violent, impossible chasm of twisting colors right beneath Saitama's boots.
The ground disappeared.
"...Eh?" Saitama blinked.
He reached out, grabbing at nothing but fractured purple light. A chunk of concrete flew past his face. Then, the light swallowed him whole.
Darkness.
He was falling. Endless fields of stars blurred past him, streaking like a rain. Upside-down oceans and shattered, impossible geometries floated in the void. There was no wind, no sound, just the dizzying sensation of tumbling through the spaces between realities.
Saitama slowly rotated in the void, looking at a passing nebula.
"Huh," he said.
He hit the ground. Hard.
Saitama sat up slowly, patting the dust off his yellow jumpsuit. He was sitting on wet, sticky asphalt. The air smelled entirely wrong, a thick mixture of stale urine, wet garbage, and heavy exhaust fumes.
He looked around. It was a narrow, shadowed alleyway walled by red brick. He walked to the end of the alley and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
It was loud.
A boxy, bright yellow car flew past him, the driver slamming on the horn.
"Hey, I'm walkin' here, buddy! Watch it!" a man in a thick coat yelled at the taxi.
Saitama blinked. The people that rushed past him on the crowded sidewalk didn't look like the citizens of Z-City. They wore heavy coats, strange hats, and all seemed to be glaring at the pavement as they walked.
A metal cart on the corner was billowing steam. The heavy, greasy smell of boiled meat, onions, and mustard drifted over to him. Saitama's stomach gave a loud growl.
He looked up. The towering skyscrapers were just buildings. No Hero Association headquarters looming in the distance. No smoking craters. Just... a city.
He walked up to a green metal newspaper stand on the corner. The vendor gave his spandex a weird look but didn't say anything. Saitama stared at the bold, English print at the top of the paper.
The New York Times.
Saitama stared at the letters. New York?
It should be very far away from my apartment, he thought. Can I just jump back? He looked up at the sky. No. Probably not.
He patted his pockets. He reached into the hidden pouch of his suit and pulled out his worn, leather wallet. He flipped it open. A few thousand yen bills and some loose silver coins clinked softly.
He checked another pocket. Nothing.
He looked up and down the street. No familiar grocery stores. No Genos trailing behind him with a notepad. No apartment key that fit any door on this continent.
He was hungry. He was tired. Nobody here spoke Japanese. His money was basically shiny metal disks and colorful paper.
Saitama stood frozen on the corner of 42nd Street, emptiness settling in his chest.
"...The supermarket sale."
Desperate, he wandered down the block until he found a glowing vending machine tucked outside a closed bodega. He stared at the colorful rows of snacks. He held his breath, slid a 500-yen coin into the slot, and prayed.
The machine whirred.
Clink. The coin dropped into the metal return tray at the bottom.
Saitama stood there in silence for a long, long time. The neon light of the machine buzzed. He reached down, took his useless coin back, and felt his shoulders slump in defeat.
He turned around, walked slowly back into the dark alleyway, and found some relatively clean cardboard boxes stacked near a dumpster. He flattened one out on the cold concrete, sat down, and pulled his knees to his chest.
His stomach rumbled again, echoing in the New York night.
"The sale's definitely over."
A few yards away, Silver Fang was on one knee, his breathing ragged. Beside him, King stood, the legendary King Engine rumbled loudly in his chest. Even Genos, missing his left arm and leaking sparking fluid from his chest plate, could only stare upward in despair.
The sky above Z-City wasn't a sky anymore.
At the center of the tear floated a being that defied the senses. It had no face, no limbs, just a shifting mass of blinding, multi-dimensional shapes.
"TREMBLE, MORTAL FLESH," the being's voice vibrated directly into the marrow of their bones. The pressure alone forced several A-Class heroes in the distance to collapse, clutching their heads. "I AM THE DEVOURER OF PARADIGMS. YOUR REALITY IS BUT A THREAD, AND I HAVE COME TO UNRAVEL IT!"
Tatsumaki's knees buckled. Genos gritted his teeth, his optical sensors flashing red as he calculated their chance of survival as zero. This was it. The end of the world.
A few feet to Genos's right, a white cape flapped lazily in the upward draft.
Saitama scratched his cheek.
He tilted his head, watching the geometric nightmare flash with impossible colors. He brought a red-gloved hand to his face, rubbed his left eye, and let out a long, whistling yawn.
Something was bothering him.
Did I leave the AC running? Saitama thought, his blank, oval eyes staring through the city block. ...No. I unplugged it this morning. ...Good.
He blinked. Another thought surfaced, far more pressing than the floating concrete.
"Hey, Genos," Saitama said, his voice flat.
Genos turned his head, his mechanical eye whirring. "Master! You must fall back! My core is critically damaged, but I will detonate it to buy you and the others a few seconds.."
"Is today Saturday or Sunday?" Saitama interrupted.
Genos froze.
"M-Master?" Genos stammered, the apocalypse momentarily forgotten. "It... it is Saturday. Why?"
Saitama's eyes widened. A bead of sweat formed on his bald head.
Saturday, Saitama panicked. The premium beef is fifty percent off until 7:00 PM. If I miss it again, I'm going to have to eat plain udon for the third night in a row. "BEHOLD THE END OF EPOCHS!" the Devourer boomed. "I SHALL FOLD YOUR DIMENSION INTO DUST! COWER BEFORE HYPERSPACE COLLAPSE!"
The space beneath the entity began to fold inward. A massive, swirling hyperspace gate ripped open, a black hole began to form in the sky, sucking the very light out of the atmosphere. The pressure was immense. The city block collapsed into it, and the ground beneath the heroes began to crack and lift.
Saitama looked at his watch. 6:42 PM.
"Yeah, okay," Saitama muttered.
As king raised his hands in defeat Saitama stepped forward, wound back his right arm, and threw a punch.
The fist hit the air.
For a fraction of a second, silence blanketed the world.
Then, reality itself cracked.
A web of jagged, glowing fractures exploded outward from Saitama's knuckles, shattering the hyperspace gate like glass.
The Devourer ceased to exist.
But the unstable dimensional field didn't just vanish. The crack grew. It splintered downward, opening a violent, impossible chasm of twisting colors right beneath Saitama's boots.
The ground disappeared.
"...Eh?" Saitama blinked.
He reached out, grabbing at nothing but fractured purple light. A chunk of concrete flew past his face. Then, the light swallowed him whole.
Darkness.
He was falling. Endless fields of stars blurred past him, streaking like a rain. Upside-down oceans and shattered, impossible geometries floated in the void. There was no wind, no sound, just the dizzying sensation of tumbling through the spaces between realities.
Saitama slowly rotated in the void, looking at a passing nebula.
"Huh," he said.
He hit the ground. Hard.
Saitama sat up slowly, patting the dust off his yellow jumpsuit. He was sitting on wet, sticky asphalt. The air smelled entirely wrong, a thick mixture of stale urine, wet garbage, and heavy exhaust fumes.
He looked around. It was a narrow, shadowed alleyway walled by red brick. He walked to the end of the alley and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
It was loud.
A boxy, bright yellow car flew past him, the driver slamming on the horn.
"Hey, I'm walkin' here, buddy! Watch it!" a man in a thick coat yelled at the taxi.
Saitama blinked. The people that rushed past him on the crowded sidewalk didn't look like the citizens of Z-City. They wore heavy coats, strange hats, and all seemed to be glaring at the pavement as they walked.
A metal cart on the corner was billowing steam. The heavy, greasy smell of boiled meat, onions, and mustard drifted over to him. Saitama's stomach gave a loud growl.
He looked up. The towering skyscrapers were just buildings. No Hero Association headquarters looming in the distance. No smoking craters. Just... a city.
He walked up to a green metal newspaper stand on the corner. The vendor gave his spandex a weird look but didn't say anything. Saitama stared at the bold, English print at the top of the paper.
The New York Times.
Saitama stared at the letters. New York?
It should be very far away from my apartment, he thought. Can I just jump back? He looked up at the sky. No. Probably not.
He patted his pockets. He reached into the hidden pouch of his suit and pulled out his worn, leather wallet. He flipped it open. A few thousand yen bills and some loose silver coins clinked softly.
He checked another pocket. Nothing.
He looked up and down the street. No familiar grocery stores. No Genos trailing behind him with a notepad. No apartment key that fit any door on this continent.
He was hungry. He was tired. Nobody here spoke Japanese. His money was basically shiny metal disks and colorful paper.
Saitama stood frozen on the corner of 42nd Street, emptiness settling in his chest.
"...The supermarket sale."
Desperate, he wandered down the block until he found a glowing vending machine tucked outside a closed bodega. He stared at the colorful rows of snacks. He held his breath, slid a 500-yen coin into the slot, and prayed.
The machine whirred.
Clink. The coin dropped into the metal return tray at the bottom.
Saitama stood there in silence for a long, long time. The neon light of the machine buzzed. He reached down, took his useless coin back, and felt his shoulders slump in defeat.
He turned around, walked slowly back into the dark alleyway, and found some relatively clean cardboard boxes stacked near a dumpster. He flattened one out on the cold concrete, sat down, and pulled his knees to his chest.
His stomach rumbled again, echoing in the New York night.
"The sale's definitely over."
Last edited:
Lord of the First Flame
So many timelines, so little time
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2015
- Messages
- 5,035
- Likes received
- 55,489
Loki: I have an army
Tony: We have a Caped Baldy.
Tony: We have a Caped Baldy.
Last edited:
Kolarthecool
Eyes Without, Eyes Within
- Joined
- Mar 18, 2015
- Messages
- 904
- Likes received
- 9,039
Nice, this should be hilarious.
OPM world doesn't have an America, its one huge supercontinent with 26 regions.
OPM world doesn't have an America, its one huge supercontinent with 26 regions.
TheLastDreamer
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2026
- Messages
- 2
- Likes received
- 16
Thank you for the catch.