Flicker of Annihilation
His golden eyes reflected the approaching black "sun," a still, lifeless pool devoid of panic, excitement, or even focus; only an unfathomable calm remained.
He raised his right hand again, his five fingers naturally spread, towards the earth-shattering torrent of energy.
Then, flick your index finger and tap lightly.
The movement was as casual as flicking dust off one's shoulder.
"Bang--!"
A muffled thud exploded, almost tearing the space itself apart.
The black energy sphere, a hundred meters in diameter, rolled over as if it wanted to devour everything, even twisting the light into strange shapes.
But just as it was about to touch its target, a slender finger flicked it lightly, casually, even somewhat carelessly.
It was like flicking a speck of dust.
Immediately afterwards, an incomprehensible power erupted from his fingertips.
The energy sphere, powerful enough to erase the continent from the map, deviated from its trajectory without resistance, like a ball being bounced around by a child. It transformed into a black meteor, tearing through the sky and soaring straight into the heavens.
It crashed through the clouds, broke through the atmosphere, and finally burst into bloom against the deep black starry sky!
Buzz--!
Even from thousands of miles away, people on the ground could clearly see that a ball of light, more dazzling and scorching than the sun, suddenly appeared in the sky, swallowing up the starlight in the blink of an eye and turning half the sky into daylight.
Immediately following, a shockwave carrying an aura of destruction spread out, silent yet exceptionally violent, tearing the clouds high in the sky to shreds and evaporating them.
The entire planet trembled.
A deep rumble came from the depths of the earth, as if the earth itself was groaning in pain.
But when the aftershocks of the destruction finally reached the ground, only a gentle breeze remained, sweeping away the dust and lifting the hems of everyone's clothes.
The extreme destruction and the silence before my eyes were chilling enough to give me goosebumps.
Super 17 remained frozen in place.
His scarlet electronic eyes were wide open, and data streams pulsed wildly within his cold, mechanical pupils, eventually turning into gibberish—all "errors" and "incomprehensible."
His face, a blend of metal and life, twitched, his mouth agape, revealing a complex energy structure, yet he couldn't utter a single breath.
The joints throughout his body creaked and groaned under the strain, a result of the shock and fear churning his internal energy circuits.
"No... impossible... this doesn't make any sense..."
A dry voice, crackling with static, finally escaped his throat, each syllable a tremor of a worldview crumbling.
Qi Heng had appeared before him without him noticing, like a ghost.
His footsteps landed without raising any dust, yet felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, pressing down on Super 17 and on the hearts of all the spectators.
He raised his head slightly, his pale golden eyes calmly reflecting Super 17's terrified face.
"I've said it before," Qi Heng's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly pierced through the lingering energy buzz on the battlefield, as calm as a statement of fact, yet impossible to refute, "I hate talking with my head tilted back."
Before he could finish speaking, his right hand was already raised.
The movement appeared slow, but it was actually so fast that the naked eye could not detect it, leaving only a faint golden afterimage.
The next moment, that hand firmly gripped the Super 17 helmet, its five fingers tightening without applying force, yet exuding an aura of absolute control.
"So," Qi Heng's golden eyes gleamed, "Disappear."
Buzz--!
Golden light suddenly erupted from his palm! It wasn't an ordinary energy burst; the light was more real and more sacred, as if it had a life of its own, and it instantly engulfed Super 17's massive body.
There was a law of "decomposition" and "purification" within the light that was incomprehensible to most people.
"Ughhh--!"
Super 17 let out a scream that was completely distorted.
Under the golden light, his outermost armor first lost its luster, and then, like a sand sculpture weathered for millions of years, it began to crack and peel away inch by inch from the edges, turning into countless tiny golden specks of light.
The disintegration quickly spread to the interior.
The bionic muscles, intricate circuits, and energy core beneath the armor... everything that constitutes his existence loses its form and meaning in this golden light, turning into the purest dust of light.
He struggled desperately, his remaining arms flailing wildly, trying to gather energy to fight back, but any energy that formed was immediately swallowed up silently by the surrounding golden light.
His expression froze between extreme fear and utter resentment. His mouth opened and closed in vain, but no sound came out. He could only watch helplessly as his "existence" dissipated little by little.
"No--!!!"
Finally, his last roar, filled with despair, anger, and confusion, came to an abrupt end.
Super 17, the ultimate android embodying Dr. Gero's highest technology and hellish resentment, has vanished completely.
There was no explosion, no debris, only tiny golden specks of light, like fireflies rising against the current, slowly ascending and finally merging into the sunlight, leaving no trace.
The wind blew across the desolate battlefield, stirring up wisps of scorched earth.
In the distance, Trunks' sword clattered to the ground, but he didn't notice at all. He just stared with his mouth agape, his pupils contracted, and he even forgot to breathe.
Gohan remained frozen in his charging stance, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his forehead; the golden aura of Super Saiyan had long since faded.
Piccolo's lips were pressed tightly together, the muscles on his green face tense, his mind, which was usually able to calmly analyze the battle situation, was now blank.
Pan covered her mouth, her big eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
In the command center of West City Capsule Corporation, dozens of monitoring screens in front of Bulma were all frozen on the moment Qi Heng flicked the energy ball away with a single finger.
The coffee cup in her hand tilted, spilling warm coffee onto the expensive countertop, but she didn't notice.
Only a suffocating silence remained on the communication channel, broken only by the occasional hum of instruments.
After a long while, as if just waking from a dream, she murmured very slowly and softly into the microphone, "My... God..."
The voice was so low it was almost inaudible.
On a more distant cliff, Vegeta still had his arms crossed, but his fingers had turned white from gripping so tightly.
He gritted his teeth, veins throbbing on his forehead, and his deep blue eyes, which usually burned with arrogance and fighting spirit, were now churning with complex emotions—shock, resentment, fear, and a hint of awe he himself was unwilling to admit when facing a mountain.
He stared intently at the spot where Qi Heng had just stood, as if trying to see through the air, his voice hoarse and low, almost squeezed out between clenched teeth. "That guy... Kakarot... no, just how... strong... is he...?"
In the center of the battlefield, Qi Heng slowly turned around.
Sunlight shone on him, and his ordinary figure seemed to carry the weight of the entire universe.
His golden eyes calmly swept across the room, taking in everyone's stunned, fearful, and complex expressions.
There was no pride, no pity, only an unfathomable indifference.
"It's over."
He casually uttered three words, as if stating a perfectly simple fact.
Then, he raised his right hand, index and middle fingers together in front of his forehead, the movement natural and casual, without any premeditation or radiance.
Instant Transmission.