Reborn as a Saiyan in marvel

William stood atop a jagged slab of lunar rock, his boots firmly planted against the cold, cratered surface. Around him, the remnants of the shattered moon drifted in the void like the bones of a dead god, massive chunks of stone suspended in the weightless abyss. The wreckage stretched far and wide, illuminated only by the distant glow of Earth and the sinister radiance of the invading fleet above.

The airless silence of space was broken by the deep, mechanical groans of several colossal warships descending from the void. Their immense, obsidian hulls were jagged and foreboding, lined with pulsating red lights that flickered like the eyes of some slumbering titan. One by one, their massive hangar doors peeled open, releasing an unholy swarm of Parademons. Thousands of grotesque creatures spilled out like a plague, their insectoid wings flapping soundlessly in the vacuum as they locked onto their target.

Then, as if commanded by a single mind, they opened fire.

A torrential barrage of particle beams erupted from the horde, transforming the blackness of space into a chaotic storm of golden lances. The beams streaked downward in a relentless cascade, tearing through the floating debris, and carving molten scars into the broken lunar rock. The sheer volume of energy turned the battlefield into a burning spectacle, illuminating the surrounding asteroid field in a hellish glow.

Yet, amidst the storm of destruction, William stood unshaken.

A slow smirk curled across his lips as he watched the approaching onslaught, the emerald glow of his eyes reflecting the impending devastation. So predictable.

"Phage… prepare the cannons," he commanded internally, his voice as calm as ever.

At once, his body responded. From his back, thick, sinewy tendrils burst forth, twisting and expanding with unnatural precision. Within moments, they hardened into monstrous, bone-plated artillery, each barrel massive enough to rival the weapons of the enemy fleet. The organic cannons pulsed with raw energy, veins of emerald and golden light crackling across their surfaces like living lightning.

The shattered moon rumbled beneath his feet as the weapons reached full charge, their barrels glowing with apocalyptic fury.

William's smirk deepened.

"Fire."

As if waiting his entire life for this moment, Phage unleashed the full fury of his artillery. The massive cannons on William's back roared to life, their barrels glowing an ominous green and yellow before discharging beams of searing energy into the void. The sheer force of the attack caused the shattered lunar surface beneath his feet to crack and crumble, sending dust and debris spiraling into the airless expanse. His boots dug into the ruined terrain, anchoring him as the recoil threatened to send him skidding backward.

The beams carved through the darkness like divine judgment, sweeping across space in an unstoppable wave of destruction. Parademons caught in the onslaught never even had the chance to scream, vaporized instantly, their bodies reduced to nothing but scattered motes of ash. The energy lances continued their course, slamming into the incoming warships with devastating force.

A heartbeat later, the battlefield erupted in a symphony of destruction.

"BOOM!" One of the largest ships erupted in a fiery explosion, its reinforced hull crumpling under the sheer intensity of the blast. The detonation sent shockwaves rippling through space, igniting nearby vessels in a cascading chain reaction. The black void was momentarily illuminated by the hellish glow of burning wreckage as more of Darkseid's war fleet met their end, gutted from within by Phage's relentless barrage.

The massive beams gouged deep wounds through the seemingly endless tide of Parademons, carving lines of devastation through their ranks. Once an overwhelming horde, their numbers were now severed, and their advance momentarily halted. Pieces of destroyed ships and charred remains of their forces drifted aimlessly, adding to the growing graveyard of Apokoliptian war machines littering the battlefield.

Despite the destruction, more ships loomed in the distance, their silhouettes cutting through the fiery remains of their fallen brethren. The battle was far from over. But William stood firm, eyes gleaming with cold resolve.

"Phage," he murmured, his voice steady despite the chaos, "keep firing."

The symbiote responded instantly, its cannons humming as they prepared to unleash another storm of annihilation upon Darkseid's forces.

The cannons on William's back thundered, unleashing a relentless storm of energy blasts. Each shot streaked across the battlefield like miniature stars, detonating upon impact and creating chain reactions of destruction within the densely packed Parademon horde. Their alien screeches filled the void, the chorus of their deaths adding to the symphony of war.

"SKA!"

"SCREEE!"

"AKK!"

"RUMBLE!"

The vacuum of space was alive with chaos. Fire and debris littered the battlefield as mangled, half-incinerated corpses of Parademons floated weightlessly, some still twitching before the cold void claimed them. Yet, despite the devastating barrage, the swarm pressed forward, undeterred by their fallen. Thousands still surged toward William, their glowing eyes locking onto him with unrelenting fury as they fired their weapons in a blinding cascade of death beams.

William narrowed his eyes as the tide of enemies drew near, his mind racing. The cannons had served their purpose, but this battle was about to get close and personal.

"Phage, condense into a battle suit and reinforce my armor—spikes on my elbows and knees."

"You got it! And I'll add some claws while I'm at it!" Phage's voice crackled with excitement, eager for carnage.

The symbiotic cannons shimmered and began sinking back into William's body, the thick sinew-like appendages retracting and reshaping. His form shifted, a sleek black and green exosuit taking shape around him, hugging his frame with a natural, fluid armor that pulsed with power. Bone plating wrapped around his torso, more jagged and brutal than before, with sharp, curved protrusions extending from his elbows and knees. Unlike the armor, these darkened bones seemed… different. Sharper. Hungrier. They almost glowed with an eerie, deadly edge, eager to tear into flesh.

The transformation was completed just as the first Parademon lunged at him.

"SHING!"

A flash of steel-like bone. A glint of murderous precision.

A Parademon, larger and more heavily armored than the others, hurtled toward William, its jagged lance poised to impale him. Its snarl revealed razor-sharp fangs and its insectoid wings buzzed furiously as it closed the distance.

William didn't hesitate.

With a single, fluid motion, he slashed upward with his clawed hand. The air around his strike shimmered as the razor-sharp bone claws carved through the void.

"SLASH!"

The Parademon didn't even get the chance to react.

Its body split cleanly from abdomen to skull, severed in a single motion. Blackened alien blood spurted into space as the two halves of the creature drifted apart, twitching uselessly before vanishing into the battlefield's carnage.

More were coming.

A slow smirk crept onto William's face, his emerald eyes glowing ominously beneath his helmet.

"Time to have some fun."

William propelled himself forward, cutting through the void like a missile, his eyes locking onto a particularly dense cluster of Parademons. Their grotesque, insectoid forms flitted about in perfect formation, a coordinated mass of death descending upon him. His lips curled into a smirk—perfect.

"Shing!"

His diamond-hard claws sliced effortlessly through the skull of the first Parademon, carving through its chitinous armor like paper. The creature's eyes flickered with brief agony before its head split open, spilling blackened, rotten ichor into the vacuum. Before the corpse had time to drift away, William's free hand lashed out, fingers clamping down around the face of another.

"Squelch!"

A sickening, wet pop followed as his grip crushed through the creature's exoskeleton, fingers sinking into soft tissue beneath. The Parademon convulsed, its limbs flailing before going limp, dark ichor bubbling out and staining the others nearby.

Suddenly, a blinding glow flared in the distance above him.

"DIE FOR DARKSEID!!!"

The shrill, fanatical screech of a Parademon rang through the void. William barely had a second to glance upward before he saw it, a crazed soldier diving straight toward him, its weapon pulsating violently. The alien tech, overcharged past its limits, cracked apart, releasing chaotic bursts of unstable energy. The Parademon had turned itself into a living bomb.

"BOOM!"

The explosion was cataclysmic.

A massive sun-like fireball erupted in the upper atmosphere, its golden inferno expanding outward in a blinding surge of heat and radiation. The sheer force of the blast disintegrated the surrounding Parademons, their bodies reduced to nothing but drifting ashes before they could even react. Debris and charred remains spiraled outward as the unstable detonation crackled and pulsed, painting the battlefield in an eerie, apocalyptic glow.

For a few moments, the battlefield was bathed in pure light.

Then, the burning mass began to dim, flickering as it slowly faded away.

As the surviving swarm regained visibility, their glowing eyes darted toward the epicenter of the blast, searching, hoping that their enemy had been consumed.

Then—

"WENG!"

A brilliant pulse of emerald energy surged outward, dispersing the lingering flames.

Within the fading remnants of the explosion, untouched and utterly unfazed, floated William, his arms crossed as if the entire display had been nothing more than an inconvenience. A shimmering green shield construct flickered around him, absorbing every ounce of energy from the blast, leaving him completely unharmed. His emerald eyes gleamed with amusement as he let out a scoff.

"No, none of that kamikaze bullshit."

He lazily waved his hand, and the protective shield around him shifted. It unraveled, reforming and expanding outward in a fluid, controlled motion. The energy coiled like a living entity, reshaping itself into a massive net of pure willpower that lashed out toward the remaining Parademons.

"SNAP!"

In an instant, the net shot forward, ensnaring a hundred Parademons at once. The trapped creatures thrashed wildly, their wings buzzing in frantic desperation. Their claws scraped against the glowing construct, but it held firm, unyielding. Their panicked shrieks rang out through the void.

"L...LORD DARKSEID!" they screamed, clawing, writhing, begging.

William tilted his head slightly, a slow smirk creeping onto his face.

Then—

"Crunch!"

The net tightened.

Screams turned to wet gurgles as bodies collapsed in on themselves. The crushing force was merciless, bones snapping like brittle twigs, exoskeletons shattering with grotesque pops. Blood, ichor, and crushed bone matter mixed into a grotesque, formless mass of organic slurry. What was once a horde of warriors had been reduced to nothing more than a floating sphere of gore, pulsing and dripping in the silent void.

William exhaled slowly, shaking a bit of alien blood from his gauntlet.

"Darkseid sends an army… and this is the best they've got?" he thought.

He turned his gaze to the rest of the battlefield, where countless more Parademons still loomed in the distance. This fight was far from over.

But that was just fine.

He was just getting started.

William reached into the very fabric of existence, his hand slicing through the air as if it were made of silk. From the emptiness, he summoned the Thunder-Spire, the weapon's jagged form crackling with barely contained fury. The staff hummed in his grip, its length already surging with chaotic energy, the air around it thick with static. His fingers tightened around its handle, the crackling sparks dancing like fireflies.

With a single, purposeful motion, William tapped the staff into the void.

"TAP!"

A sudden, deep "RUMBLE!" resonated through the fabric of space itself, as if the very heavens had felt the touch of the Thunder-Spire. The upper atmosphere of the moon seemed to convulse, as dark storm clouds churned into existence, rapidly expanding in a tumultuous spiral. The once-bright expanse above became choked by the impending maelstrom, blotting out the planet below and the swirling chaos of the battle above. The sky became an ominous dome, swirling with shades of violent green and black, as though the heavens themselves were being torn asunder.

From within the churning abyss, a crackling arc of lightning shot outward, a living current of energy that sparked and coiled like an ancient serpent. It twisted and writhed, its form taking shape, a dragon, a creature of pure energy, with eyes glowing like molten emeralds. The small beast wrapped itself around the top of the Thunder-Spire, its head emerging from the apex of the staff, sending arcs of energy flickering across the void like veins of lightning.

"ROOOOAAARRRR!"

The roar that erupted from the dragon's mouth was thunderous—an impossibility from such a small, ethereal form. It reverberated through space, rattling the very air. The storm around William reacted violently, its coils tightening with deadly arcs of green lightning, each bolt humming with an ancient, almost sentient power.

William's eyes gleamed beneath his helm as he whispered, his voice carrying a calm finality.

"Storm of Annihilation."

At his command, the dragon's wings unfurled, extending wide as if to embrace the storm. The atmosphere crackled with energy, and the storm intensified, each cloud seething with pent-up destruction. The dragon's wings flapped once, "CRACKLE!" and the skies themselves seemed to snap with the force of the unleashed fury.

From within the dark, swirling clouds, arcs of lightning began to leap downward in savage bursts, each one an unrelenting strike of judgment. The bolts ripped through the swarm of Parademons below, disintegrating them on contact. Their bodies convulsed, crackled, and then were reduced to nothing but charred husks, floating lifelessly into the void.

Each lightning strike felt like a divine sentence, an execution carried out by the storm itself. Parademons who had been foolish enough to charge forward found themselves reduced to smoldering remains, their bodies nothing more than another spot to reflect the destructive power of the storm.

William stood amidst the chaos, his posture unyielding, his grip on the Thunder-Spire firm. The storm raged around him, a deadly symphony of lightning and death, as the Parademons continued their desperate assault. But it was futile.

This was his storm. His weapon. His will.

And no one, not even Darkseid's most devout followers, could stand against it.