Seated between the 8th and 9th rings of the universe, just after Nu’s transcendence, the Galactic Tyrant completed the final rep of his cosmic bench press. The unfathomable bar clinked into place, its weight sending ripples across spacetime.

For him, Nu’s failed attempt to claim the star legacy was nothing more than a blemish on the apple of existence. He had sliced away the bruised parts, consumed the rest, and long forgotten the insignificant bacteria responsible for the imperfection.

Jotting notes into a glowing notebook with a celestial pen, he frowned. “Strange. Did the total mass of the universe just decrease? That last rep felt lighter than the first eleven.”

He sighed and tapped his pen against the notebook in thought. “These galaxies aren’t cutting it anymore. Time for heavier ones next cycle. Maybe 5x5s with 8th ring clusters…”

As he brooded over his workout, the void above him darkened. Purple clouds gathered, suspended impossibly in space, flickering with silent thunder.

“Rain clouds? In space?” Vick muttered, his brow furrowing. “What kind of trickery is this?”

Absorbing his gym equipment back into his body, he waved a massive hand, distorting the fabric of reality in an attempt to pull the clouds closer. But no matter how much he warped space or altered time, they slipped through his grasp, defying even his will.

Frustration welled within him. Quasars erupted from his eyes, plasma blades hotter than stars carved through the void, and spacetime itself buckled under his attacks. Yet the clouds remained untouched, defying even his cosmic might.

For the first time in eons, unease stirred within him. “What is this terrifying omen?” he murmured.

The clouds shifted again, and raindrops began to form. Across the universe, similar clouds gathered above celestial masses, releasing torrents of blue rain. The droplets passed through matter like ethereal ghosts, vanishing into the Primordial Muscle of the universe.

As the raindrops fell toward the Galactic Tyrant, he instinctively shielded himself, unsure what the blue drops might do. Yet the moment they touched the event horizon of his colossal form, they were deflected like swatted flies.

“Hah! I was worried for nothing!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the void. “A low-level trick, nothing more.” Yet, as his gaze lingered on the rain, unease crept back. “Still… for it to reach me at all is strange.”

Shaking his head, he stood. “Enough of this. Maybe it’s time to catch up with Darrell. That old bastard’s probably bird hunting again. Maybe he’ll finally share some of his spoils.”

With each colossal step, the Galactic Tyrant strode through the vast expanse of the universe. Galaxies shimmered beneath his feet like fireflies, while the blue rain cascaded ceaselessly from the void above.

The 8th and 7th rings passed beneath him like a cosmic road trip, galaxies and stars blurring into a kaleidoscope of light. As he approached the border of the 6th ring, the temperature around him plummeted, nearing absolute zero.

Separating the 7th and 6th rings stood an enormous spatial wall, an incomprehensible barrier composed entirely of semi-frozen time. Encasing the inner universe, it prevented expansion outward. Even the Galactic Tyrant, mighty as he was, could not breach its boundaries. Forged by a being far beyond his comprehension, the wall emanated a hostile domain where temperatures fell into negative values below absolute zero, defying natural law.

Chaotic droplets of frozen time appeared and vanished in paradoxical cycles, the wall collapsing and reforming in an eternal dance of creation and destruction.

The Galactic Tyrant halted at the dividing edge, wary of the minefield of warped space-time created by these negative Kelvin conditions. He stood motionless, waiting for what he knew was to come.

Like clockwork, a shimmering drawbridge materialized, tunneling through the volatile time-space to connect the inner and outer universes.

From within the drawbridge, a man no smaller than the Galactic Tyrant called out, recognizing the figure standing at the threshold.

"Vick, you're returning to the inner universe as well?" The man standing on the drawbridge sighed, shaking his head. "This strange rain has everyone on edge. Seven other Tyrants passed through today alone."

"Gurdy! It’s been too long." Vick’s laughter echoed like a collapsing star as he strode closer, clapping Gurdy on the shoulder. "Me, on edge? Never. Just needed to clear my head after a heavy chest session." He gestured to the downpour, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "But this rain… come on, you’ve got to tell me—what Olympian’s behind this prank? It’s impressive, I’ll admit. It’s bound to send the mortals into a frenzy." He chuckled, the sound booming across the void.

Gurdy’s expression darkened, his flickering form retreating slightly. "As far as I know, it’s not a prank. It’s serious. Even we in the Universal Federation are in the dark about it. The Olympians are convening in Green Heaven as we speak, and they’ve announced an Olympic Decree is coming. I’ve never seen them gather so quickly; whatever it is must have foundational consequences."

Vick’s grin faded, his hand rising to rub his temples. "An Olympic Decree? Really? Those bulked-up fools usually only care about posing and pumping iron. If this rain has them worried, it’s got to be something big."

"Yeah, Vick. It’s not good," Gurdy muttered, his voice laced with unease. The rain grew heavier, its droplets bouncing off their event horizons in oppressive silence, creating an intense stillness between the two giants.

With a curt nod, Vick reached into his chest and pulled out a black coin. The object warped space and light around it as he held it in his palm.

"Here." Vick said, clearing his throat as he handed the coin to Gurdy. "A little toll for your troubles. Now, let me through—I’ve got important things to accomplish."

Gurdy accepted the coin with a wry smile, and extended the drawbridge further, allowing Vick to step on and pass through the frozen time wall into the inner regions of the universe.

Saying his goodbyes to Gurdy, Vick made his way through the inner portions of the universe. Thanks to the effects of the frozen time wall the inner universe was much denser in spacetime then the outer, causing Vick to have to move at a much slower pace.

The 6th ring was filled with celestial wonders. As Vick strode onward, he passed neutron solar systems where mega planets, dense beyond imagination, orbited supergiant stars. Cosmic bodybuilders, their physiques vast enough to blot out suns, strolled these worlds as though they were ordinary citizens.

To Vick, it felt like a stroll through a neighborhood. He waved at passing figures with a friendly grin, his immense presence blending into the cosmic grandeur. But as he neared the division between the 6th and 5th rings, the light around him dimmed, and the air seemed to thicken.

The boundary loomed before him, marking a transition into a realm of unimaginable density. Crossing it, spacetime transformed into a dense, foggy ocean. His strides slowed to a crawl until, finally, he could no longer walk. He began swimming through the viscous void, each celestial stroke cutting through spacetime itself.

The 5th ring was an incomparably dangerous domain, even for Vick. The dense spacetime blurred the boundaries of existence, transforming the universe into a suffocating fog. Massive creatures moved silently through the void, their forms only hinted at by ripples in the ether.

Vick held his breath as a hundred-lightyear-long eel slithered past, its immense body brushing perilously close. Reaching into his chest, he retrieved a lantern device, its glow masking his presence and repelling the lurking predators.

As he pressed onward, the fog parted to reveal a spinning black hole of immense power. Its gravitational pull tore apart a colossal blue whale, hundreds of lightyears in length, devouring it piece by piece.

Stopping before the swirling void, Vick called out, his voice booming through the fog. “Darrell! Open up the damn event horizon! I know you saw me coming.” Impatience tinged his tone as he hovered before the black hole’s grandeur.

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The event horizon shimmered, revealing a circular doorway that led to an unassuming home. Inside, the black hole’s interior stretched infinitely. Its white-tiled floor glinted under the eerie glow of a strange green orb, hanging like a pulsing Christmas ornament at the center.

The space resembled a high-end recreation center, packed with exercise equipment. Amid the clutter stood a simple wooden table bearing the enormous carcass of a Star Swallowing Condor and a lone chair that seemed oddly out of place against the vast emptiness.

Vick smirked, clearly amused by his friend’s disgusted glare.

“Darrell, you loathsome bastard!” Vick exclaimed, laughing as he attempted to step past. “It’s been an eon since Green Heaven last rotated in the center of the universe, and I see you’re as cheerful as ever.”

Darrell blocked his way with an irritated glare. “An eon wasn’t long enough. You show up on my doorstep just as I catch my first Star Swallowing Condor of the season. You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you. Have you spent all this time training nothing but your oversized nose?”

Mock offense flashed across Vick’s face. “I’ll have you know, I just hit new PRs on my triceps and shoulders. But clearly, your massive size has clouded your respect for our timeless friendship.”

Darrell’s expression softened slightly, though he didn’t step aside. “Respect? All I see is a man using our one-sided friendship as an excuse to mooch off a meal.”

“Come on, don’t be such a prick,” Vick grumbled. “Let me in. You’re not really going to force me to brave this strange rain, are you?”

Darrell glanced at the blue rain pattering steadily against the event horizon. The sound grew louder, a constant rhythm that filled the silence.

With a begrudging sigh, he stepped aside, allowing Vick to enter.

Vick’s grin widened as he walked through the doorway, clearly relieved to be out of the rain.

He avoided the clutter, instead pulling out a comfy-looking reclining chair and positioning it near the event horizon. It offered an unobstructed view of the rain cascading beyond the shimmering barrier.

“You meathead! After living here for so long, you haven’t thought about making this place more hospitable for guests?” Vick teased, pulling a thermos from within his body. He took a sip, his expression one of exaggerated satisfaction.

Darrell, ignoring him, moved to the wooden table. The rhythmic hacking of a knife and the metallic tang of fresh blood filled the room as he worked on preparing the Star Swallowing Condor. A man of stoic resolve, he had no interest in engaging with Vick’s banter.

Darrell’s cold demeanor seemed expected. Taking another sip from his thermos, Vick smacked his lips and made another attempt to crack his friend’s frosty exterior.

“Good coffee!” he exclaimed. “Come here and try some of this. I found these strange dark beans hidden in the Quagon Nebula. They’re incredibly dense and make an excellent hot drink.” He turned and held up the thermos, shaking it slightly to emphasize his point.

Darrell remained focused on his work, ignoring Vick entirely. Frustration flickered across Vick’s face.

“Do you need any help with anything?” Vick asked. “Perhaps you’d like to hear about my many heroic adventures?”

The sounds of butchering ceased as Darrell turned to meet Vick’s gaze. “Your cooking is terrible, and your stories are bizarre and uninteresting. We can reminisce later. If you want some of this bird, wait patiently with your own company.”

“So cold.” Vick muttered, reclining further into his chair. “It’s really no fun being friends with a man like this.” He shifted his focus to the rain outside, lighting a black pipe with a match. He began to relax, letting the rhythmic patter of rain blend into the hum of the black hole’s interior.

Time passed slowly. Vick stared out at the blue rain, his mind wandering. Periodically, he took a drag from his pipe, the smoke vanishing almost instantly, leaving only a faint taste. The room grew quiet, save for the soft hiss of roasting meat.

Behind him, Darrell moved with measured precision. The condor’s juices sizzled as golden-brown flesh turned over a glowing flame. The rich aroma filled the air, breaking Vick’s contemplative daze.

“Smells good,” Vick said with a grin, taking another sip from his thermos. “You’ve outdone yourself again.”

Darrell plated the roasted condor into a towering heap for himself, leaving a single drumstick for Vick. With a flick of his wrist, the small plate flew across the room, landing neatly in front of his guest.

“Generous as always,” Vick muttered, eyeing the tiny drumstick. His grumblings couldn’t hide the greedy glint in his eyes.

Darrell, seated far away in his simple wooden chair, was about to dig in when Vick’s voice interrupted once more. “What are you doing? Why are you sitting so far away?” With a casual motion, Vick conjured a larger, plush chair and set it beside his own. “Come on, take a seat and join me. The rain is calming from this view.”

Darrell walked over with his plate, his movements deliberate but unhurried. Ignoring the plush chair, he pushed it aside and sat cross-legged on the white-tiled floor. Vick raised an eyebrow but refrained from commenting, instead turning his attention back to the rain cascading beyond the event horizon.

The two ate in silence, the rhythmic patter of rain creating a tranquil backdrop. Outside, the storm raged on, but within the quiet of the black hole, a scene of cosmic comfort unfolded.

"What do you think, Darrell?" Vick put down his half-eaten condor leg, breaking the silence. "About this rain..."

Darrell looked up from his meal for the first time since sitting down.

"I’ve tried a few tricks," he began, his tone contemplative. "I’ve found ways to contain the stuff, but I haven’t discovered how to forcefully integrate it into anything that has reached critical mass." He frowned, glancing at the table. "I’ve kept alive a few mortal businesses in the 9th ring, and I’ve been getting some results... by using their bodies for experiments."

Vick’s eyes lit up. "I knew it," he chuckled. "When this apocalypse hit, I had a feeling you would be someone I can rely on for some good information."

Darrell gave a wry smile but didn’t respond directly. Instead, he continued, "It’s too early to draw conclusions, but the Blue Water seems to act like an elixir for their physiques. It supercharges muscle development and enhances their ability to merge matter into their bodies. But there are significant downsides."

Vick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Such as?"

"Madness," Darrell said solemnly. "The water degrades their inborn legacies, stripping away morals and humanity. Children are born unable to recall their human shape, and natural development becomes impossible. Civilizations are teetering on collapse."

Vick leaned back, stroking his chin. "But we’ve already reverse-engineered the human body and developed children without parents. Without legacies, they should still be able to survive and repopulate themselves. It sounds problematic but solvable."

Darrell shook his head. "Humans born without family ties lose the structure that keeps civilization together. Combine that with the temptation of gaining power through the Blue Water, and entire societies are destabilizing overnight. All the non-humans are in a frenzy as well and if this continues, the entire outer universe could collapse."

Vick's eyes opened wide with shock.

"However, I’ve already taken action," Darrell continued. "I recommended banning the use of Blue Rain for physique construction. I also sent several treasures that have reached critical mass to help shield those with intact legacies from being exposed to rain. Hopefully this will be enough..."

Before Darrell could finish, a resplendent flash of light illuminated the event horizon, halting their conversation.

A phoenix’s cry echoed through the black hole as a bird of heavenly flames soared into view, leaving behind a clay tablet glowing with strange markings.

"Olympic Decree..." Vick sucked in a sharp breath. "Those twelve made a decision this quickly?"

Darrell, equally stunned, opened a hole in the event horizon and pulled the tablet into his hands. As his eyes scanned the markings, his expression turned grim.

"They’re actually downsizing the inner universe," he murmured, running his eyes over the tablet a second time. "They want to weaken that barrier between the 6th and 7th rings so more mass can spill out into the outer regions. This is… surprising."

Vick’s eyes widened. "Those greedy monsters are really cutting back our chances to gain mass in the inner universe? They already control over half the universe’s mass! Why can’t they scale themselves back for once? Why make us suffer?" He snatched the tablet from Darrell’s hands.

"No way… they’re pledging a hundred black holes each. So they’re downsizing too?" Vick’s voice dropped to a hushed tone. "This is terrifying. Who commands this rain, powerful enough to rattle beings as massive as the Olympians? It can’t be out of pity for mortals. Something else must be driving them to make such a drastic move."

They fell silent, lost in their own thoughts, until Darrell finally spoke.

"I’ve heard stories," Darrell began quietly. "They speak of a great river of time high above, carrying fragments of the past, present, and future. They say if you hoard too much of its flow, it’ll upset the balance and stir the wrath of something vast and beyond comprehension—what they call the Future Ocean. Some have even pushed for this sort of downsizing for billions of years."

Vick’s skepticism showed. "You’re telling me this rain is coming from downstream in that river of time? From the future? Some kind of warning that we’re getting too big?"

"Maybe..." Darrell shrugged. "If the legends hold any truth, then next to the Future Ocean, we’re nothing but ants. If it really exists and decides to act, I can’t imagine how we’d survive."

"I don’t know," Darrell admitted, and after that, neither of them said much.

Eventually, Vick departed, returning to the 8th ring of the universe to resume his workouts. Meanwhile, Darrell, unable to unravel the mysteries of the Blue Rain, turned his focus to hunting colossal creatures in the 5th ring, prioritizing his own growth over the fate of mortal worlds.

True to their word, the Olympians dismantled sections of the wall between the 6th and 7th layers, allowing mass to flow outward into the outer universe. This shift ushered in a new era of cosmic bodybuilding, rivaling the legendary golden age. Yet progress came at a devastating cost. As the Blue Rain persisted, more beings experimented with the mysterious Blue Water, driving societies into madness and fracturing once-stable civilizations. After a century of relentless rainfall, the storm finally ceased, leaving deep scars and a legacy of chaos.

The forbidden allure of Blue Water gave rise to a brutal age of underground bodybuilding, reducing once-thriving civilizations to fractured shadows of their former glory. In the distant darkness, something within the Future Ocean stirred silently, its presence unknowable, as the rest of existence struggled to recover.

Into this broken landscape, new heroes emerged. No longer bound by morals or heroics, they roamed desolate worlds, indifferent to their fellow beings and driven solely by the relentless pursuit of strength at any cost. The disruptive force of Blue Water shattered stagnation, forging perilous opportunities for those bold enough to seize them.