Beyond the Limit (DC)

 | Dream State - August 29

With his fear suppressed in the Dream State, Joseph's thoughts cleared, his focus sharpening. Patterns began to emerge—Despero's third eye always opened when he healed or unleashed psychic attacks. That eye was the source.

At first he wasn't sure because the eye opened at random times but maybe it was to reinforce his control of the Thanagarians attacking Thanagar.

Even when Joseph had completely engulfed him in Nova Force, his third eye had been open right before getting hit.

He activated his psychic absorption to confirm, provoking Despero with his anti-gravity field. As expected, the signature from that eye was distinct—alien, powerful, and not entirely Despero's own. He remembered Despero opening it the first time Joseph had tried to drag him into the Dream State.

Joseph had played weak on purpose, it was easier with the fact that he was actually weak at the moment. Banking on Despero's arrogance, he'd baited the sadistic conqueror—who could have ended the battle from the beginning with his psychic power alone—into coming close. That was the trap.

And thankfully it had worked. Pulling Despero into the Dream State felt way easier the second time.

Now, within the white void, Despero writhed beneath Nova's avatar—his psychic energy being drained by the voxel-made construct gripping him in a textbook judo hold.

"No!" Despero screamed. Joseph in turn laughed, making sure the purple alien could hear it in its final moments.

The third eye... it wasn't truly his. Magic? A god? Whatever it was, within the Dream State—connected to the astral plane, his subconscious, and perhaps something even deeper—Joseph had some control over what entered, and what was denied.

In this space, his body was whole. He stood over Despero's purple form, unbroken, watching the alien's desperate struggle before the avatar dissolved him completely. His scream echoed, then vanished. And with that, Joseph stopped laughing.

He exited the Dream State and returned to reality, finding Despero's corpse collapsed over his own battered form. The warlord's face was uncomfortably close—third eye staring directly into Joseph's right eye.

Joseph couldn't move. His body was shattered. He lay motionless, staring at a war-torn sky intermittently lit by explosions. Despero's death had freed the Thanagarians under control, and they were probably retaliating now.

Every breath hurt. His arm, legs, ribs, spine, and skull were broken. He'd never been pushed this far—forced to give everything at every turn just to survive. Only Despero's pride had spared him.

And he laughed again. A dry, wheezing laugh. If fear hadn't been suppressed, he'd be having a panic attack. But instead, all he could do was laugh at the absurdity of it all. How had he—just a regular human a year ago—ended up in a deathmatch with the undefeated champion of ninety-two star systems?

Less than a year ago, Joseph had been in a slave arena fighting for his life while Despero was spectating. Now he had defeated him.

He laughed again, even though it hurt to breathe—worse with the heavy alien corpse pinning him down.

Then his laughter died as psychic energy surged near him, coming from Despero's corpse. He was too weak to react.

Despero's third eye burst open one final time, glowing with purple-white fire. That energy surged out—dropping directly into Joseph's right eye.

He tried to repel, but it was too late. Energy rushed through him—strange, maybe divine, a blend of psychic force and raw magic. His right eye glowed with its purple light, casting shadows across Despero's lifeless face.

Then a voice echoed in his mind.

"Do not be afraid. I am Py'tar, the life force of the planet Kalanor—Despero's origin."

Joseph blinked. Great. Another thing that could kill him.

"...What do you want?" he asked mentally, exhausted from it all.

"Despero was a Kalanorian peasant born with a deformity—a third eye. Cast out, he wandered the wastes. One day, he was saved by my mystical flame. I granted him strength, mental power, and a vision of a paradise yet to come. But Despero, consumed by rage, misinterpreted it. He believed he was chosen to rule, not to heal. He enslaved his world, then others. 

I could not part from him until he died. And now, thanks to you, I am free. So I will grant you a gift. But you are not a Kalanorian so you cannot receive my power like Despero."

Joseph said nothing. Just listened.

Then his mind ignited as foreign knowledge poured in: diagrams, energy flows, refined techniques. He'd gained psionic comprehension.

Then Py'tar's presence began to fade.

"Wait," Joseph called out.

"Yes?" came the voice, distant now.

"Thanks and all, but... could you fix my body too?"

A pause.

"Goodbye, Nova."

And just like that, Py'tar was gone.

Joseph let out a weary sigh. Worth a try. Still, he was grateful. Even if none of this made sense.

He lay still, staring up at Thanagar's deep violet sky, occasionally lit by distant flashes of battle. His body was broken, his mind frayed.

He'd been training in the Dream State every day. But not tonight. No training, no plans. No Dream State. Just… rest.

Just for now.

His eyes closed at last, as the toll of the battle—mental and physical—finally claimed him.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath him cracked open, and swallowed him and Despero's corpse whole.