Earth.
The mother of humanity, the home of life.
It had, in fact, already been "released" by Ian.
It returned to the vicinity of its original cosmic coordinates.
"Keeping it inside felt as uncomfortable as having a kidney stone. Good thing I knew how to pass it out," Ian complained while waving his hand to dismiss the Dark Dimension covering this sector of space. The distorted space returned to normal, and the real cosmic microwave background radiation and starlight cascaded down once more.
He first glanced toward Earth, which he had returned to its proper place, and then his brow twitched slightly—wait... did the positioning experience a bit of a deviation? The orbit that was supposed to revolve around the sun seemed to have shifted outward by just a tiny bit?
There was no helping it; that's what happens when your aim isn't perfectly calibrated. Many people's household toilets suffer from this exact issue, and in Ian's case, the specific manifestation was that Earth seemed a bit too far from the sun.
And the distance to the moon... also seemed to have widened a bit?
As a top student.
At least as a self-proclaimed erudite and well-read academic, he was relatively clear about the trouble such a deviation could cause. The sun is Earth's primary source of energy, dictating the climate, temperature, and evolutionary biology of almost all critical conditions. If Earth's orbit shifted outward, even by just 5% to 10%, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Earth's current average surface temperature is approximately 15°C.
If Earth were 10% further from the sun, the solar radiation received would decrease by about 19%, which also meant the global average temperature could drop to -10°C or even lower.
Although the moon doesn't provide light or heat, its gravitational pull on Earth is exceptionally important. If the moon drifted away from Earth, the impact would primarily manifest in tides, rotation, and climate stability.
"Thank goodness it only deviated by two percent!" Ian felt somewhat relieved that his heart to protect the absolute best version of Earth hadn't gone too far.
"Maybe I can put it back into the safe box and then release it once more using my magical pistol... practice makes perfect, as they say." Ian's astonishing intelligence directed his brain to come up with a magical solution.
Right at that moment.
A familiar "gaze" that made his scalp tingle suddenly descended!
"Something's wrong! It's the reverberation of the Gucci belt!"
Ian snapped his head up.
He immediately saw an alien floating quietly in the vacuum not far away, arms crossed, staring at him expressionlessly—yes, his old father.
Clark Kent, none other than Superman!
Those blue eyes lacked their usual warmth, containing only a scrutiny mixed with helplessness, a headache, and a sense of "what kind of trouble is this kid trying to brew up now."
His mind-reading ability didn't seem to reach Ian's inner thoughts.
Ian's heart skipped a beat. Almost reflexively, both hands instantly shielded his... right hand. Don't ask how he could shield a third hand with two hands.
When it came to an Evil God, he could grow as many hands as he damn well pleased.
"Dad! Don't hit me! Don't hit me! Show mercy!" Ian's face contorted into an expression of terror and "frailty." His voice rose an octave, crying out with a sob.
"Don't disturb my fetal qi! There's a child inside the placenta of my palm! It's already several billion years old! It has immense historical value! It's a national-level protected antique baby!"
With that, without waiting for Clark's reaction, he bolted... well, you couldn't bolt in a vacuum, so he raised his hand and zipped away directly using his classic flight posture.
Energy surged around him.
With a "swoosh," Ian plunged straight into Earth's atmosphere.
Vanishing instantly.
On the spot, Superman Clark was left alone, bewildered in the vacuum of space.
Listening to Ian's preposterous "plea for mercy" that was out of this galaxy, and watching his melodramatic performance and fleeing figure, Clark ultimately lowered his raised hand in helplessness.
He didn't even harbor a single shred of intent to give chase.
Clark understood Ian too well.
If he dared to chase him, even if he just showed a hint of wanting to hold him accountable, that little bastard Ian could absolutely perform a "miscarriage on the spot" right then and there.
Then, on the Superhero Popularity Hub, a massive amount of exaggerated and embellished content would materialize out of thin air. Before the next day arrived, he would be accosted by all sorts of bizarre protection agencies the moment he stepped out to play the hero.
This was exactly the kind of thing Ian was capable of doing. When that time came, the one suffering from a headache would still be Clark himself.
"Sigh..." Clark sighed deeply, feeling that raising Ian to become a valuable member of society drained more mental energy than fighting ten Brainiacs simultaneously.
He turned his gaze toward that Earth which had been "returned" by Ian, but whose position was visibly deviated from its intended orbit, and was even much further from the moon than normal.
His super-vision as Superman went to work, and his eyes could clearly see that because of this sudden orbital change, chain natural reactions were already beginning to spark across Earth.
The tidal forces on a global scale were undergoing subtle yet chaotic alterations, the crustal activity seemed to be experiencing some impact, and the climate systems in certain regions were showing signs of instability.
Earth's temperature was also dropping rapidly.
"This brat..." Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose, knowing that now was not the time to fuss over Ian. The urgent priority was to clean up his youngest son's mess.
He hesitated no longer and took a deep breath of the "air" that didn't exist in space. His powerful bio-electric field expanded instantly, like an invisible yet gentle and sturdy colossal hand, incredibly slowly and with absolute stability covering the entire Earth! Then, this God Among Men adjusted his posture and flew to the side of the planet.
Clark extended both hands and began working like an athlete pushing a massive exercise ball, applying force across the vacuum to "push" Earth back toward its original proper orbit.
If this scene were captured by an astronomical telescope, it would likely become one of the most shocking and bizarre images in human history.
Evidently.
Superman had unlocked a new way to use his bio-electric field, enabling him to perform this magical operation of pushing Earth's movement without actually making physical contact with the planet itself.
While the old man Superman was busy pushing the planet.
On the other side, Ian dived into Earth's atmosphere like he was being chased by hornets, a blazing ion wake generated by the friction trailing long behind him.
As he flew at high speeds, he kept turning his head back in trepidation, deeply terrified that his old dad would ignore martial ethics and suddenly appear behind him to deliver a "Backstab of Justice."
Fortunately, after flying for a good while without finding Clark pursuing him, Ian finally breathed a sigh of relief. Yet he still didn't dare to be careless, well aware of his old dad's elusive speed and sensory capabilities.
"Dad has times when he doesn't play by the script too."
Ian knew full well how massive a gamble he had played this time. He even appeared a bit paranoid, worrying that Clark had already anticipated his anticipation and was waiting for him at his potential destination in advance.
Thinking this way, Ian entered an exceptionally cautious "stealth" mode. He first flew several laps around Earth, utilizing the urban heat island effect, large magnetic field interference zones, and even certain erupting volcanic ash plumes as cover, continuously changing his direction and altitude to execute what he believed to be a "counter-tracking" maneuver.
Of course.
The actual situation might just be Ian wits-battling himself, and he knew it. However, knowing was one thing; if he didn't do it, who knew if he would regret it upon getting caught?
Moreover, he still needed to display a guilty conscience; that way, it would be easier to claim he "knew his mistake and could correct it" once caught by his dad. Ian's mind was already running a multitude of calculations.
Ultimately, after confirming that his dad truly showed no signs of wanting to chase and capture him, he landed silently at the Demon Manor located in the bustling city center like a thief.
Ian didn't walk through the main entrance. Instead, he sneakily excavated a tunnel deep underground until he neared the subterranean area of the manor's core defensive array. He even pulled out a thick sheet of lead stamped with nude photos of Hollywood actresses from who-knows-where, holding it over his head.
Only then did he carefully break through the soil layer, drilling into the most secretive secret chamber beneath the manor.
He firmly believed that given his dad's morality and love for his mom, Superman would absolutely never use X-ray vision to look at nude photos of beautiful women. If his dad's morality failed, he would just complain to his mom.
Yes, these photos could effectively prevent remote spying from Superman—a secret method Ian wouldn't pass down to just anyone, and one that even Batman had never quite figured out.
"Where is the Kryptonite I mined and excavated from Uncle Bruce's living room?" Only with over a ton of high-quality Kryptonian goods in hand did Ian feel a bit more at ease inside the secret chamber.
Returning to his absolutely secure home base, Ian finally relaxed completely. He brushed off the non-existent dirt from his body and sat cross-legged atop the runic array eye that emitted a faint magical aura in the center of the chamber.
It was time to take stock of the most important spoils of war.
Money and gold were no longer the issues Ian cared about the most right now.
He closed his eyes.
His consciousness sank into his body, arriving at that extra dimension specifically designed to "contain" and "study" extraterrestrial life—a small world completely under his control with bizarre rules.
His consciousness materialized into his appearance, manifesting in the "sky" of this extra dimension. Looking down below, the sight couldn't help but remind him of a certain famous anime aimed at children.
Imitating Ash Ketchum from Pokémon, Ian thrust his fist forward with high spirits. Using his full strength, he let out a resounding laugh in the sky in the form of a sun.
"Hahaha! I caught—Golden Superman and Ultraman Tiga!"
Ian was indeed acting a bit cocky. He couldn't catch Darkseid, that heavyweight cancer of the DC Universe, but couldn't he catch Golden Superman and Tiga?
Don't look at how Golden Superman might be incredibly awesome in his own universe; once he arrived in the main DC Universe, his world status and weight weren't even as heavy as Ian Kent, a local native.
The fact that he could be pulled into the dimension by Ian fully proved this point.
And inside his extra dimension, even a dragon had to coil up, and even a tiger had to lay low! Down below, just like how many protagonists of transmigration webnovels would wake up in a forest, inside that alleyway which Ian had maliciously designated as the initial landing point for all "outsiders," two figures were pushing themselves up from the ground rather clumsily.
Yes, two figures—none other than Golden Superman and Ultraman Tiga, who had shamelessly and terribly merged as one right in front of a child, and had now been forcibly separated by Ian.
At this moment, both extraordinary life forms were in quite a miserable state. The shining spirit across Golden Superman's body had dimmed.
Although those original muscle lines that looked capable of shattering a planet with a single punch were still present, they gave off an impression of being pumped up by protein powder, feeling increasingly hollow upon closer inspection.
After pushing himself up, Golden Superman realized something was wrong immediately.
His expression changed drastically!
"What's going on... my power... my Kryptonian genes... why do they seem completely stagnant?!" He attempted to mobilize the solar energy within his body, only to find it felt like a stone dropped into the ocean, yielding zero response! This feeling was even more terrifying to him than when he had first encountered Kryptonite in his youth!
Being struck with panic wasn't nearly enough to describe his current dread.
Ian would willingly use the phrase "losing her composure" to describe Golden Superman's current state.
Compared to Golden Superman, who still possessed a normal human physique, the situation of Ultraman Tiga beside him was even more bizarre.
His massive body of light had also shrunken to proportions close to a human's. The originally vibrant red, silver, and purple color scheme had turned dull, and although the Color Timer on his chest remained blue.
The light was incredibly faint.
Tiga lifted his hands, turning his massive silver palms over and over to inspect them, his eyes filled with bewilderment. He felt as though, for some reason, his mouth was entirely filled with the taste of leaded gasoline.
Similarly.
Tiga didn't understand why he had been drawn into an indescribable struggle either. The current situation made even a widely experienced street-wanderer like him feel exceptionally eerie.
Originally, he had died yet again—and he could be considered accustomed to dying. His consciousness had returned to fragments of light, awaiting the possibility of the next revival. But this time, he had been forcibly dragged out from that stagnant state by a tyrannical power, shoved into this bizarre universe, and stripped of his strength.
"Who can strip me of my power?"
Waves churned within Tiga's heart. He looked toward the Golden Superman beside him, whose emotions were fluctuating just as wildly as his own. However, he opened his mouth in an attempt to express something.
"Don't panic. My primal abilities haven't been lost. I merely need a bit of time to absorb new light," Tiga spoke, but the sound produced was only the classic vocalization of an Ultraman.
"TIGA!~ TIGA!~ TIGA!~"
Tiga chanted over and over, seemingly possessing only this single syllable. There was no helping it; having lost his power, his original ability to engage in telepathic dialogue to communicate with other life forms had naturally ceased to function. Perhaps that dark brother Belial's language was universal, but Tiga genuinely suffered a language barrier with Golden Superman.
Golden Superman was left somewhat bewildered by Tiga's sudden vocalization.
Frowning, he looked toward this giant "costume man" beside him who had previously been colossal but now looked like someone wearing a bodysuit. He spread his hands, his tone carrying confusion and a hint of helplessness.
"Can you... speak some human language?" He couldn't understand a single syllable! The reason he didn't use the phrase "a single word" was because Tiga seemed to repeat only one syllable over and over.
Ultraman Tiga: "..."
He was very helpless too.
Communication having failed, Tiga fell silent for a moment. He decided he must first use his old method to restore a portion of his power, at least to re-master telepathy or basic combat capabilities.
He possessed a set of procedures for restoring power that was practically instinctual. Since the interior of his body was currently terribly empty, he would proceed according to the most primitive, direct method—absorbing light!
Tiga slowly closed his eyelid-less, big eyes—turning off the two light bulbs counted as closing his eyes. He began to adjust his nearly depleted energy core, continuously attempting to establish a connection with the "light" in the surrounding environment, executing the most fundamental action of drawing in the nutritional requirements he needed.
To Tiga, the definition of "light" had always been broad. It wasn't just visible sunlight or starlight; it also included positive emotional energy like the light of hope or the light of courage within human hearts. In certain extreme circumstances, even if it were just the conceptual word "light"—for instance, if the word "light" was written on a wall.
He could still draw power from it.
Of course.
The absence of any light wouldn't be an obstacle either.
If Tiga himself believed there was light, then there was light. It was by relying on such an ability that Tiga became one of the Ultramen who resurrected the most. He never turned down light in any form.
Particularly the sunlight from the sky. It was simply too warm.
Tiga didn't reject a single bit of it!
He operated that energy-drawing technique that had crossed countless times and spaces to help him weather multiple crises. Like a parched sponge, he began to greedily absorb everything around him that could be defined as the concept of "light"!
Faint visible light was drawn in, merging into his body like fireflies; the thin light energy permeating the air, originating from the distant city lights, was also extracted.
Even that "LIGHT" graffiti on the wall seemed to have an exceptionally faint energy ripple—bordering on an illusion—captured by him due to the concept of "light" it carried.
Such a procedure had been walked through countless times across his life, which existed in various forms and spanned billions of years. Every time he was heavily injured or drained of strength, he relied on this method to reignite his own radiance like a spark of hope.
However, this time—by a strange stroke of coincidence, it genuinely allowed Tiga, who was accustomed to monotony, to experience the wonder of a new life for free. Everyone's definition of the concept of wonder was different.
Behold, Tiga had only just absorbed a couple of breaths, and that stagnant energy core hadn't even had time to generate a single shred of warmth, before he subconsciously detected something wrong.
"Hiss—!!!"
Tiga violently snapped his eyes open.
Those milky-white eyes were filled with ultimate horror!
From Golden Superman's perspective, he saw this giant "bodysuit man" suddenly shudder violently all over without any warning, as if he had been electrocuted! Following that, Tiga's massive frame looked as though its bones had been removed, collapsing straight backward onto the ground with a muffled crash.
What left Golden Superman even more dumbfounded was that Tiga's iconic T-shaped mouth was actually beginning to spew white foam outward uncontrollably!
That foam even carried an indescribable, eerie odor resembling industrial detergent mixed with expired candy!
"Wait, what?!"
Golden Superman was startled. Disregarding the blinking icon for the moment, he hurriedly squatted down, looking at Tiga who was twitching on the ground and foaming at the mouth.
He was somewhat at a loss.
"What happened to you all of a sudden? An illness flared up? Do you bodysuit aliens have epilepsy too?" Golden Superman attempted to support him, but looking at Tiga's sleek body that didn't even have a single pocket, he froze again.
"Do you have any emergency alien medicine on you or something? Where is it kept?"
He understood absolutely nothing about an Ultraman's physiological structure. Faced with this smooth "bodysuit," he had nowhere to start.
"You have to at least tell me what on earth is wrong with you!" Golden Superman was getting a bit anxious. He was unfamiliar with this place, and his own power had vanished. If this guy, who appeared to be his sole "companion," kicked the bucket just like this, he would truly be left stranded. He continuously slapped Tiga's large, hard face with his hand.
Attempting to wake this bodysuit man up.
"Hey! Wake up! Hold on!"
Tiga's entire body was trembling uncontrollably, the immense agony causing him to nearly lose consciousness. Yet his powerful willpower still allowed him to retain a shred of clarity.
He forced back the discomfort.
With great difficulty, he lifted a trembling arm, using his index finger to dip into a small puddle of murky water accumulated on the ground beside him. Using his final ounce of strength, he scrawled a line of messy yet legible words on the ground.
'This light... the light here... is toxic...'
When had Tiga ever suffered this kind of hardship before?
The light bulbs inside his eyes were flashing frantically.
The white foam from his mouth spewed more and more.
One could tell the toxicity was far from light.