Chapter 61 - Don't Touch Mama

When a cosmic insult signals the end of a graphic style.

At the summit of the ink palace, in the visual core of Universe 77 in the manga multiverse, Mangakami sat enthroned on an oversized chair made of original panels, burst bubbles, and sacred sketches his cloak was embroidered with black outlines and living erasures before him, a crowd of scribes-doodlers trembled at every word he screamed, his voice echoing through every panel of his kingdom:"The Primordial Mother?! she's just a cosmic trail! she let her creations ridicule me! she deserves erasure, and her kids with her!" his assistants lowered their eyes, the inks froze, the bubbles emptied and then the palace floor split like a page refusing to be inked a multicolored thunder twisted through space, a door materialized, a portal of pure frame, engraved with six lightning bolts, and one by one, the lightning gods emerged. Kael walked first, cosmic armor resonating, twin blade on his back, cold gaze. Diva glided through the sky, her hair tracing red arcs, so fast that the panels burned beneath her steps. Destiny followed, enveloped in a black silence, each step laden with forgotten laws. Kaela, with immense wings, hovered like a luminous shadow, the storm in her eyes and finally, Saphira, small, motionless, but each step leaving behind craters of broken dreams Kael spoke, his voice cracking like a decree of war:"What did you say about our Mother?" Mangakami, shrugging, sneered:"I'm not afraid of your cosmic bubbles i am a god! this world belongs to me!" Kaela replied without a word she raised her hand… and with a single gesture, she erased an entire page of his kingdom landscapes, décors, frames disintegrated in a breath. Diva surged in a red flash, passing through 17 panels without slowing, and struck:"Red lightning tears-the-script!" the impact disrupted the laws of layout Mangakami staggered Destiny slowly opened an old grimoire made of forgotten episodes he read:"By cosmic decree… you lose your right to style." he held out his hand. the source code of Mangakami's universe ignited the outlines disappeared, the shading dripped like ink tears, the dialogues became illegible cosmic lorem ipsum, even the sounds disintegrated:"Return to the draft." Mangakami fell to his knees he tried to call an assistant, but even his scream was erased Saphira stepped forward she was the last she had neither screamed nor struck she had erased nothing but she stopped before him, looked up, and the entire universe fell silent. —"You know… my Mama, she built dreams all of them even yours and i, i learned to defend them." she extended her hand the void responded a giant doll, made of childhood memories and corrected errors, emerged from nothingness it gently caught Mangakami and placed him on a throne made of his own narrative errors: plot holes, forgotten antagonists, exaggerated bubbles. Saphira bowed slightly:"You stay there to reflect." the five lightning gods turned they left the ink palace collapsed behind them, reduced to hesitant sketches but in the empty space left behind, a sentence was etched into the void itself:"never touch our Mother again, or next time, we won't leave any style alive."

End of Chapter 61 — The Inter-Genre Insult: "Filthy Garden Gnome!"