It had been three days since Saitama crash-landed into the world of Invincible, and Mark was beginning to think it might be the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had a mentor, a friend, and a bottomless pit of calm indifference to everything dangerous.
Unfortunately, his dad, Omni-Man, wasn't nearly as amused.
Mark stood in the sky, watching Saitama casually hop from rooftop to rooftop, scanning for villains like someone looking for loose change on the sidewalk.
"You really think this is productive?" Mark asked, floating alongside him.
Saitama glanced up. "I'm hungry again."
"You just ate."
"I know," Saitama said. "But that was breakfast. This is villain-hunting metabolism. Totally different."
Before Mark could reply, a rumble tore through the city. A massive, four-armed alien beast — all teeth, muscle, and raw rage — was tearing its way through downtown.
Saitama raised a hand casually. "Found something."
Mark's face lit up. "Yes! Okay, this guy's a real threat. Big, scary, definitely not from Earth. Let's do this!"
The beast smashed through a skyscraper, sending rubble flying toward a group of civilians. Mark zoomed down to catch debris mid-air, holding steel beams over his head while ushering people to safety.
Saitama, meanwhile, blinked up at the monster.
"Eh," he muttered. "I've seen bigger."
The alien bellowed and charged. In a blur of motion, it leapt into the air—only to stop short, mid-lunge, as Saitama flicked it on the nose. The alien crumpled in a heap of unconscious limbs and drool.
Mark floated down seconds later, panting. "Did you already...?"
Saitama nodded. "Yup."
Mark stared at the twitching heap. "You flicked it?"
"Yep. Nose is the weak spot."
"… How do you know that?"
"I don't. I was guessing."
Mark groaned. "You're unbelievable."
Just then, the air shimmered with the familiar sound of whooshing pressure. Omni-Man hovered into view, his arms crossed, eyes locked on the fallen alien—and then on Saitama.
"You didn't let Mark handle it," he said flatly.
Saitama shrugged. "He was busy saving people. I was bored."
Mark looked between the two of them, tension rising like the heat in summer asphalt.
"Dad," Mark said cautiously, "we were working as a team."
"This isn't teamwork," Nolan replied. "It's dependency. If you can't stand on your own as a hero, you'll never survive. The universe doesn't hand you Saitama when things go wrong."
Saitama scratched his cheek. "That sounds kind of cool, actually. Like a subscription box service."
Mark stifled a laugh, but Nolan didn't find it funny.
"This world has rules. Challenges. Struggles. Growth. You can't just punch everything once and expect it to be over."
Saitama looked mildly confused. "Why not? That's how problems get solved."
Nolan's jaw clenched. "You don't belong here. You're upsetting the balance. And sooner or later, that'll get someone killed."
For the first time, Saitama's expression shifted — not anger, not fear — but something close to boredom mixed with annoyance.
"You talk a lot for someone who hasn't actually fought me," he said quietly.
Mark's eyes widened. "Guys—let's not—"
But it was too late.
Omni-Man's fist blurred forward, faster than sound.
And Saitama… caught it.
Casually.
With one hand.
Nolan's eyes widened in genuine surprise.
Saitama looked at the hand in his palm, then up at Nolan. "Y'know, I've had mosquito bites that hit harder than that."
With a flick, Nolan was hurled backwards through a billboard, crashing into a water tower, which exploded in a geyser of metal and water.
Mark's jaw dropped.
Saitama dusted his gloves off. "He's fine."
Seconds later, Nolan emerged, floating above the damage, blood trailing from his mouth, eyes burning with restrained fury.
"This isn't over," he said. "You're interfering with something far bigger than you understand."
Saitama yawned. "Cool. Tell me about it over noodles."
Later that night, the Graysons' home was quieter than usual. Mark sat on the roof, legs dangling off the edge, watching the stars. Saitama joined him with a paper bag of chips in hand.
"You didn't have to fight him," Mark said. "That was my dad."
"I didn't fight him," Saitama replied between crunches. "I stopped him from being a jerk."
Mark chuckled, despite himself. "He's just... intense. He thinks he has to carry the weight of everything on his shoulders."
Saitama crunched. "That's dumb. You've got shoulders too."
Mark looked at him. "That's... surprisingly deep."
Saitama shrugged. "I guess. I don't really do deep. Just wide. Like wide punches."
Mark laughed harder this time, grateful for the moment of levity.
"Thanks, Saitama," he said. "For being here. Even if it's just until you figure out how to go home."
Saitama looked at the stars. "Yeah… about that. I'm not really in a rush."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Saitama's gaze lingered on the sky.
"…Something tells me this world might finally give me a real fight."
End of Chapter 3
Would you like Chapter 4 to explore more of Saitama's effect on the Guardians of the Globe or dive deeper into Omni-Man's growing paranoia?