Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas

She paused, then added, "…Not that I meant all that other stuff I said, okay?"

William blinked, confused for a moment—then it clicked. She was flustered. That whole act was just her cover.

He chuckled silently to himself but didn't call her out.

"Yeah, yeah… I get it." He replied casually, playing along.

Elsa huffed and crossed her arms, pretending to be annoyed. "Hmph! What—don't believe me now, William?"

William raised an eyebrow. "Hey, what's with that tone? I said I agreed with you, didn't I? I said yeah…"

Elsa narrowed her eyes, still pouting. "You think I'm an idiot and don't understand you, huh?!"

Then, with a smirk tugging at her lips: "Just you wait… I'll show you exactly how I'll deal with you!"

"Yeah, yeah…" William said with a grin, mocking her. "You always say that—but what can you really do, hmm?"

His tone was teasing, deliberately poking at her temper.

Elsa, now standing at the center of his inner world, pointed straight at him with her fair hand. The space shimmered around her as if reacting to her emotion. She glared at him—eyes blazing with rage, cheeks flushed red, practically steaming with fury.

William just snorted. He was used to this.

But then—suddenly—Elsa stopped. Her anger vanished in an instant, like a storm that had passed without warning. Her face returned to calm, her posture relaxed.

William blinked, taken aback.

"What the… what just happened?" he asked out loud, genuinely confused.

That's when he heard it: Elsa's laughter.

Soft at first… then growing into a low, amused chuckle. There was something in it—something sly. A hint of mischief. A twist of malice.

That smile she wore—it wasn't warm. It was wicked. The kind that made your skin crawl.

A sudden chill ran down William's spine, as if the very air around him had dropped below freezing.

He narrowed his eyes. "Wait… have you finally lost it, Elsa?"

William frowned slightly, thoughts swirling in his head.

"Sometimes, I really can't understand her at all…"

She had just been boiling with anger—well, pretend anger. He knew that much. She was just putting on a show because he mocked her.

But now, she was suddenly laughing—not the kind of laugh that came from joy, but a sly, dangerous one. The kind he knew all too well. She only laughed like that when she was plotting something sinister—and was absolutely sure it would work.

A memory flashed through his mind, one of many, where he had suffered terribly after hearing that exact laugh. Yes, there were several such moments etched in his past, each ending with him on the losing side of her schemes and suffering.

He gulped, uneasy, and thought...

"Why… why does it feel like dark clouds are suddenly forming over me?" A chill crawled up his spine again as confusion mixed with an uneasy instinct.

Then she spoke. "Hehehe… William… oh, William…"

Her voice slithered through the air, soaked in malice, like velvet laced with poison. That same wicked smile stayed stretched across her face—too wide, too calm, too unnatural.

William tensed.

Then she spoke again, slow and deliberate—each word spaced like a warning bell:

"Have… you… forgotten…" Her eyes narrowed as her grin widened, almost unnaturally so.

William's heart skipped a beat. "Forgotten what?" he thought, suddenly more alert. "What is she talking about?'

William's heart skipped a beat.

"Forgotten what?" he thought, suddenly more alert. "What is she talking about?"

Though confused, he still suspected that Elsa had somehow found a way to finally take her revenge. But then again—how? How could she, now that he had become almighty?

What he didn't know was that he had indeed forgotten something—something he really should've remembered before provoking Elsa.

"Oh, William... have you really forgotten that your full power is still locked, and you're only slowly unlocking it with time?" Elsa said, deciding to be blunt. Her words exploded like a bomb—and she was certain his reaction would be priceless.

And she was right.

It hit William like a mental explosion. His eyes widened, his mouth hung open—wide enough to fit two eggs side by side.

Seated silently, his shocked and speechless self just stared ahead while Elsa burst into laughter, one hand pointing at him, the other clutching her belly as it started to ache from laughing too hard.

Meanwhile, William's mind was in utter chaos.

Damn it! he cursed inwardly. Done for…. I'm done for… he repeated in a gloomy voice.

How… how did I forget that? And to think—I even 'offended' her… Damn. Damn…

Sweat began to pour down his face as he gulped nervously, nearly choking on his own unremarkable saliva. His mind was flooded with memories of past incidents—times when he and Elsa had "fought" like this before, and she was out for her usual dose of "revenge."

He just didn't know how he would suffer this time…

Now, now, got something to say?" Elsa said with a smirk, the tables clearly turned. She was openly mocking him now, watching him sweat like crazy—as if a tiny personal cloud had formed above his head and was pouring rain just on him.

Meanwhile, Elsa thought to herself, Looks like I really did manage to shake him up.

Just a few words and he's already like this? Am I really that terrifying?

She sighed inwardly, feeling a little bad—not for William, of course, but for herself. Is that how he sees me? Someone so cruel that just the memory of our past 'fights' makes him tremble?

Yes, she was feeling bad—not because of the brutal fate she had planned for him, no. That was still happening. She was going to throw him into a realm full of monsters, each one stronger than him by at least a level, and let him survive there for a full day. That should teach him that mocking her wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Still, seeing William shivering like this in front of her… it hurt her a little. I thought I was the easygoing, cute one, she thought.

I'm not someone who instills that kind of fear — I'm not a brute, nor some madwoman who lashes out and terrifies everyone. And yet, William was making it seem like I was exactly that.

But then—she pushed those thoughts aside.

It's his fault anyway—for making me angry, she reasoned. Mocking me like that...

If only William had heard this ridiculous inner monologue, he would've probably cried on the spot and said, "I was just joking! I wasn't even serious—you knew that!" And indeed, Elsa did know. But she chose to ignore it. Her hands were already itching to punish him. It had been who-knows-how-many eras since she last had the chance. Back then, she hadn't had the opportunity—and William had grown far too powerful.

But now?

Now, she had both the chance and the upper hand. And she fully intended to use them.

No matter what.

After all, chances like this were rare these days. Who knew when another might come along? A few years, maybe longer… so why not take it now and enjoy watching him squirm?

After all, as a friend, it was her duty—no, her privilege—to make William suffer just a little. And of course, she'd be watching it all unfold with a bag of popcorn in hand, thoroughly entertained by the drama.

"Friends do these things, right?" she thought with a smile, nodding to herself as if proudly approving her own logic. She was quite pleased with herself.

If William—or anyone else, for that matter—had heard her thoughts, they might have coughed up blood on the spot. Someone with a weak heart might've just dropped dead then and there.

And once they recovered and managed to steady themselves, they'd no doubt rebuke her with utter disbelief.

"Friends? What kind of friend does that?!"

Even William himself would've stared at her, eyes wide with horror, before shouting "Where the hell did you get that kind of broken logic? Friends? Are you sure? You might as well call me your enemy if you're going to treat me like that! Who needs friends like you?!"

He'd probably sniff dramatically afterward, sulking like a betrayed child.

Anyway, Elsa wouldn't have cared even if William had said all that.

To her, this was just payback—a prank of sorts, like the ones he used to pull on her. Not just today, but for countless years, he had mocked her, teased her, knowing full well she couldn't do anything in return.

But now? Now, she finally could. And oh, she would.

Her long-awaited 'revenge' was at hand, and she fully intended to enjoy it.

As the thought settled in her mind, she couldn't help but feel proud of herself.

"What a strong lady I am," she mused dramatically, sniffing like a tragic heroine.

("Strong lady my foot," William would have said. "What suffering? All I ever did was tease and tickle you—and now you're acting like I committed war crimes! You're making me sound like a villain here! I'm not a bad person, alright?!")