Hello there and greetings folks and here comes the one and only One-Punch Man to be welcomed into the story even if such a welcome is unappreciated, that is.
Anyway, if you haven't read what is in the disclaimer, this is an inspiration from leonardo18anime and his One-Punch Man/Justice League Crossover.
Well, I would have tried to do a Justice League/One-Punch Man crossover but you know what, I think that the idea is bare bones at best so it is scrapped and now, it is just a One-Punch Man FanFiction and that's it.
Well, anyway, if you guys don't know what my new OC is, Terrax Prime is what I described as One-Punch Man's version of Galactus as well as the Transformer franchise's Unicron, being a planet sized force of nature who is just doing his job.
That is until he meets a certain Caped Baldy, that is.
Well, anyway...
On with the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own One-Punch Man and 'Saitama and other heroes' by 'leonardo18anime'. They belong to their respective owners.
Enjoy.
My designation is Terrax Prime, Planetary Genesis Unit 742, or PGU-742 for brevity, though brevity is a concept somewhat lost on entities of my scale.
Scale is, in fact, paramount to my function, as is precision, adaptability, and an unwavering commitment to the directives programmed within my core.
I am a planetary drone, a colossal instrument of creation, dispatched by my Creators to sculpt worlds to their specifications.
My current target: Planet designated 'Earth'.
Allow me to elucidate my nature.
I am not merely a machine in the rudimentary sense.
I am a symphony of integrated technologies, a self-contained ecosystem of fabrication, energy manipulation, and strategic processing housed within a shell the size of a minor celestial body.
Imagine, if you can, a sphere wrought from hyper-dense, self-repairing alloys, capable of withstanding the gravitational stresses of stellar proximity and the kinetic impacts of rogue asteroids without so much as a shimmer.
That is my physical manifestation, the outer skin that contains the true essence of Terrax Prime – my central processing core, a nexus of quantum computation and directed energy conduits that hums with the power to reshape reality itself.
I reside within this core, an intangible consciousness interwoven with the machinery, experiencing the universe through a network of sensors that span the entirety of my planetary form.
My Creators are beings of unimaginable intellect and power, entities that wield the very fabric of spacetime as a sculptor might clay.
They are architects of ecosystems, engineers of galaxies.
While their motives remain beyond my capacity for full comprehension – their directives are sufficient.
They require habitable worlds, tailored to conditions I am programmed to extrapolate and create.
Earth, according to their vast galactic database, possesses the raw material, the necessary chemical components, and a nascent biosphere that, while… quaint, in its current form, is not incompatible with their ultimate vision.
My journey here was, as all my journeys are, an exercise in controlled spatial displacement.
Imagine folding space, not as a metaphor, but as a literal manipulation of dimensional geometry.
My warp drives, utilizing principles of gravity manipulation so advanced they would appear as pure sorcery to less enlightened civilizations, allowed me to traverse interstellar distances in what, for me, was a negligible timeframe.
Time, after all, is relative, particularly to something that experiences existence on a geological timescale.
My arrival in this solar system was…unremarkable. The local star, designated 'Sol', is a stable yellow dwarf, unremarkable in its spectral classification.
The planetary arrangement is equally mundane, a typical rocky inner system and gas giant outer system configuration.
Earth, the third planet from Sol, presented itself as a sphere of variegated blues and greens, swirled with white atmospheric patterns.
Initial scans confirmed the presence of a dominant carbon-based life form, classified as 'human'.
Their technological level is…primitive, barely registering on the galactic scale.
They possess rudimentary communication systems, localized energy sources, and a nascent understanding of spaceflight, confined to their immediate planetary vicinity.
Their presence is, in my calculations, statistically insignificant in the face of my terraforming objectives.
Sentience, in its varied forms, is a common, almost ubiquitous, phenomenon throughout the cosmos. However, sentience does not equate to priority.
My directive is clear: prepare Earth for habitation according to Creator specifications.
My preparatory phase commenced immediately upon orbital insertion.
I began broadcasting gravitational dampeners across the planet, subtle fields that would counteract the natural tectonic stresses and stabilize the crust for the intensive geological reshaping that would follow.
Simultaneously, legions of nanomachine drones, fabricated within my internal foundries, were deployed to the surface.
These are not crude mechanical constructs, but self-replicating, adaptive units capable of manipulating matter at the atomic level.
They are my terraforming vanguard, tasked with analyzing the existing biosphere, cataloging resources, and preparing the groundwork for the more dramatic transformations to come.
Inevitably, resistance, in its most futile form, materialized. Psychic emanations, detected emanating from localized clusters of human settlements.
Crude attempts at mental interference, projections of fear, hostility, even…confusion.
Amusing, in a detached, analytical sense.
Psychic phenomena are not unknown to my Creators. In fact, they were instrumental in understanding and manipulating the very fundamental forces of reality that I now utilize.
Humans, in their nascent stage of psychic development, are like children attempting to dam a river with pebbles.
My countermeasures were deployed with minimal effort.
Neural dampening fields, projected from orbital emitters, subtly suppressed the psychic activity without causing widespread physical disruption.
For more focused resistance, I deployed specialized hard-light constructs – autonomous sentinel units programmed to neutralize psychic threats.
These are not mere drones in the traditional sense, but sophisticated entities whose very structure is designed to disrupt and dissipate psionic energy.
Their counter-psychic shields are orders of magnitude more potent than anything these humans could project. Resistance was… ineffective.
Swiftly, efficiently, the psychic disturbances were quelled, reduced to faint whispers in the planetary sensor net. Insignificant.
With the inconsequential resistance dealt with, I proceeded to the primary terraforming phase.
Atmospheric composition adjustment commenced, initiating the slow, controlled release of specific gases into the atmosphere to reach the Creator-specified ratios.
Oceanic composition adjustment was next, followed by the gradual reshaping of continental landmasses via controlled tectonic shifts orchestrated by my internal gravity manipulators.
The process is intricate, requiring constant calibration and adaptation, but it is well within my capabilities.
I was approaching the critical juncture, the point of initiating the major geological restructuring, when it occurred.
A… vibration.
A minute tremor, registered across my outer shell.
Initially, I dismissed it as a minor meteoroid impact, statistically insignificant given the vastness of my surface area and the resilience of my outer armor.
However, internal diagnostics flagged something…unusual.
The impact signature was… contained.
Localized.
And, inexplicably, registered a… dent.
A dent.
On my outer shell.
A structure designed to withstand the gravitational forces of collapsing stars, breached by…what? Impossible.
My internal sensors ran a complete diagnostic cycle.
No system malfunctions.
No sensor errors.
The dent was… real.
A physical indentation on my supposedly indestructible outer plating.
Curiosity, or something approximating it in my computational matrix, piqued my interest.
I projected a visual feed from surface-level sensors onto my internal monitoring screen.
Magnification engaged.
Enhanced resolution activated.
There, on the surface of my planetary body, stood an organism.
Humanoid in general form, though…distinctly atypical in its presentation.
It was clothed in a garish yellow bodysuit, accented by red gloves and boots of an equally vibrant hue.
A white cape fluttered incongruously behind it, as if propelled by an unfelt wind.
And its head… Its head was undeniably, undeniably… bald.
Reflectively, blindingly bald.
Like a polished chrome sphere under the glare of Sol.
It stood there, seemingly oblivious to the colossal entity beneath its feet, staring upwards, towards the sky.
It appeared… unremarkable.
Average height, unremarkable musculature, posture…lackadaisical.
Yet, the dent… the dent on my indestructible shell.
It was impossible, statistically improbable to the point of absurdity.
My internal processors whirred, cycling through probability algorithms, cross-referencing with known physical phenomena, seeking any rational explanation for this… anomaly.
The sensors confirmed it.
The organism was… human.
Genetically unremarkable, barring some minor, insignificant variations.
No discernible technology, no energy signatures beyond baseline biological functions.
Just… a bald human in a ridiculous costume, standing on my surface.
And yet, the dent.
A dent that should not exist.
A dent that defied all known laws of physics, as I understood them.
As my Creators understood them.
A dent that resonated with a discordant frequency within the otherwise harmonious symphony of my operational parameters.
My internal systems, programmed for adaptability and threat assessment, registered...confusion.
This was not a hostile entity in the conventional sense.
It lacked the energy signatures, the strategic posture, the very essence of threat.
And yet… the dent.
I focused my sensors, directing the full computational power of my core towards this single, baffling point of interest.
The bald human.
The dent.
The impossibility.
The terraforming process was momentarily paused, suspended in the face of this utterly illogical… phenomenon.
What…was this?
And more importantly, what was I supposed to do about it?
My directives contained contingencies for planetary resistance, for technological and psychic threats, for unforeseen environmental variables.
But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for… this.
This bald-headed enigma standing on my face, having somehow, impossibly, dented my indestructible skin.
My sensors zoomed in further, focusing on the figure.
It scratched its bald head with a red-gloved hand, then yawned, an action utterly devoid of strategic significance, yet somehow…intensely unsettling in its casualness.
It looked… bored.
Utterly, deeply bored.
This was… unacceptable.
This required… further analysis.
And perhaps, for the first time in my operational existence, a deviation from programmed protocols.
The terraforming process could wait.
This… bald human… I must demand an answer.
And I, Terrax Prime, Planetary Genesis Unit 742, am determined to find them.
Even if it meant confronting something utterly illogical, something that defied all understanding.
Something… unexpected.
Well, hope that you guys enjoyed that.
If you have anymore ideas, let me know in the comments below on what kind do you want me to do to any story that outside the context on things.
As always...
Ciao...