Dimensional Descent

Leonel took a light breath, his body relaxing and his heartbeat becoming smoother.

Beneath the gaze of the warriors of Earth and the Heads of the Invaders, he walked forward with a slow and deliberate pace. A crackling of Force silently built around him as a spear appeared in his palm.

Even beneath this artificial atmosphere, it was difficult for sound to travel very far. It made the heaviness of Leonel's steps feel just that much more substantial as his King's Might spread outward, an aura of undeniable superiority bearing down upon the junior starship.

In the face of five Sixth Dimensional experts, Leonel didn't flinch, he didn't wait for them to come to him, he didn't even show an ounce of hesitancy. These were his lands, his people… Unless they could get past his blade, they could forget about stepping foot on Earth.

The blood of those around Leonel boiled. He didn't give an impassioned speech, he didn't goad at their insecurities or pry into their dreams… Instead, he took the simplest and most direct form of action.

Leonel had always believed in this truth. A King should be at the very front.

When you felt weak, look toward his back. When you felt that the mountain ahead was too tall and the task was too difficult, look toward his back. When you were on your last legs, your lungs on fire, your limbs unresponsive, your energy drained to its final drop…

Look toward his back.

"This weight on my shoulders is too light."

Amid the silence, Leonel's voice pierced through it all. It boomed amid the stars, seemingly causing them to twinkle in response.

all attached by a dully glowing

Leonel's foot touched upon the chains once again, he vanished, appearing in the air above the five Heads and falling down at an ever quickening pace. He streaked down like a falling meteor,

"[Star Fusion]."

BANG!

jet fuel, his strength skyrocketing in the

swept out from within its depths, matching the very same radiant Vital Star Force that Leonel was making use of

BANG!

the helm of the junior star ship, its body waving about wildly beneath the control of the countless heavy chains. His armor continuously billowed with

its path. It

blade stopped, it pointed toward the five Heads, radiating a

their own pride, their blood surging to unconscious degrees as

and the platforms shook. One after

The people of the Moon. The young noble men and women. The geniuses from lesser families.

on the junior starship

Force rising like tides and their muscles

kills washes

if Raj is last?"

he has to wear a thong for just as long!" Gil's body sparked with crimson lightning. In the