It was a bright and sunny morning in the world of Invincible Young Hero.
Outside the window, a few birds chirped happily from their perch on the branches.
Russell stepped out of his bedroom, his brows slightly furrowed. A faint, fading glow of blue laser light lingered in his eyes.
There was good news—and bad news.
Over in the The Boys universe, he had just arrived at Kindness Hospital and conducted a round of secondary template replication experiments. He had finally grasped the rules.
"Templates can be copied a second time, but only if a person's power has changed drastically—essentially becoming a different person."
He could replicate templates from infants who had awakened powerful abilities. But for those with weak, nearly negligible awakenings, the power difference was too small—rendering replication impossible.
"The ability to replicate templates a second time—that's the good news."
The bad news: in the original story, the baby with laser eyes used them to slaughter several special forces soldiers. Russell had flicked the baby's forehead, made it cry, copied the template, and solidified it—for 800 conquest points.
"Its power is only good for bullying weaklings."
He tested the laser eyes somewhere private. Slicing people, objects, or even a van in half was easy—but that was the limit.
Russell even tried to test them against his newly solidified regenerative ability. He burned himself for ages, eyes dry from staring, and didn't even manage to scorch a patch of skin.
When Russell came downstairs, he found an unexpected guest in the house.
It was Cecil—wearing a suit, his white hair neatly combed, posture as straight as a javelin, and his expression stern. He tapped his wristwatch, projecting a video onto the living room TV as he explained Earth's current emergency.
In the vastness of space, a blurry figure was seen speeding toward Earth.
"An hour ago, a probe near Mars detected this figure. It's moving fast. He's coming back. Estimated time of arrival—fifteen minutes."
Omni-Man sat on the couch beside his wife Debbie, a frown creasing his brow.
When Earth faced threats of global proportions, Cecil often came knocking—this wasn't the first time. But today, something was different. His expression seemed vaguely resistant.
"Russell, you came back at the perfect time." Mark, sitting in the living room, called softly when he saw Russell descending the stairs.
"Cecil's here to see Dad. Looks like some new threat from space."
He hadn't found Russell in the bedroom earlier, but now that his cousin had suddenly appeared, Mark didn't think much of it. He often flew out on superhero duties and returned through the window.
Now that he could fly, he rarely used the front door.
"A threat from space?" Russell looked at the video, eyes narrowing at the figure in the footage.
If he remembered the timeline correctly… wasn't this when Allen the Alien, the Coalition Evaluator, arrived?
"Nolan, the Global Guardians are all dead now. You're my only option," Cecil said, looking seriously at Omni-Man.
He completely ignored Mark and Russell, as though Omni-Man were the only one capable of handling the situation.
It wasn't exactly unfair—after all, neither of them had any experience with space combat.
Nolan said nothing, deep in thought.
Debbie, frustrated and worried, protested angrily, "Nolan was seriously injured and just got back a week ago! And now you want to send him into space again?"
"No way. He doesn't take orders from you!"
"There's no one else left, Debbie," Cecil said calmly, as though stating a fact.
"…How about my cousin and I go instead?" Mark offered, raising his hand tentatively. Everyone in the room looked troubled, so he tried to help.
If the task had been something the Global Guardians usually handled, maybe it wasn't too dangerous?
Still, it was outer space—they'd never been there. He wanted the comfort of going with Russell.
"Russell, can you handle it?" Nolan looked over at him.
"Of course."
Russell glanced at the blurred figure in the footage, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.
Allen—a Unopan genetically engineered by the Coalition to fight the Viltrumites. While he wasn't a match for Viltrumite warriors yet, his potential was extraordinary.
"Each time he comes close to death and survives, he becomes stronger…"
Later, he would become one of the strongest—second only to Regent and Emperor Mark, with barely any difference in power.
"And I just happen to be the least afraid of near-death situations right now."
The only question was—could copied templates evolve?
"Then I'll leave it to you both—Russell, Mark," Cecil said once the two agreed.
Still, he looked uneasy, as if something remained unresolved.
The truth? There was no real threat. Allen was peaceful and posed no danger to Earth. Cecil's frown likely came from a different concern—his true goal hadn't been met.
Russell knew the real reason. Most likely, Cecil was using this "space threat" as a pretext to get Omni-Man off Earth, so the Demon Detective could investigate their home for clues to a case.
Omni-Man probably suspected something but wasn't sure—so he stayed quiet.
"Dad, now can you tell us what we're dealing with?" Mark asked.
"An alien. Not that strong. Just beat him up a little—he'll leave on his own," Omni-Man said with a grin, placing a hand on Mark and Russell's shoulders.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Russell and Mark launched into space.
The blue Earth lay beneath them. Mark, flying off-planet for the first time, gazed below with amazement—until a figure suddenly swooped in, as if waiting for them, and punched toward them.
Boom!
Russell had already anticipated it and easily caught the punch.
"There's two of you this time?"
The figure's appearance became clear—orange skin, a horse-like face, a single giant eye, muscular frame filling out his battle suit. His cheerful voice echoed in their minds.
"Hey, which one of you is that guy with the little mustache from last time?"
"Neither." Russell punched him, sending Allen flying like a broken kite toward the moon.
On Earth, people often struggled to tell different ethnicities apart. To Allen, all Earthlings looked the same—he thought one of them was the mustachioed Omni-Man who'd beaten him before.
"Alien! Stay away from our planet!"
Mark charged after him, throwing a punch.
But his inexperience in combat showed—especially against Allen, whose job was to test whether a civilization was capable of defending itself.
Allen easily dodged and countered, locking Mark in a hold from behind.
"Good strength, but your aim is—"
Boom! Another punch from Russell sent Allen flying again.
Blood trickled from Allen's lip. Before he could steady himself, the figure came hurtling toward him again—Russell seized him by the throat and drove him toward the moon.
"You fight like someone capable of protecting your civilization. Quick, decisive."
"So... is it you? Did you shave your mustache?"
Allen chuckled. For someone as powerful as him, every test felt like a game. Even injured, he didn't mind—it wasn't a big deal with his super healing.
He tried to pry Russell's hand from his neck—but to his shock, it was like trying to bend iron. His heart skipped a beat. He looked up—
BOOM!
"I said it's not me!"
Russell's punch, like a meteor, smashed into Allen's forehead. Dazed, Allen didn't even fly off—Russell still had him by the throat.
Wait… something's really off this time…
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