What happened when Burn faced off against the White Dwarf, you ask?

  It was after he'd gobbled up Luminus into his ever-burgeoning empire and right before his frosty march to Wintersin.

  Ever the gracious host, Burn had mao irk the intergactiunity by offing a couple of their most cherished VIPs.

  Ehe White Dwarf, a on so paradoxically mighty yet mini, it could’ve been a tall teenager’s overzealous sce project. The mini part, not the apocalyptically mighty part.

  Despite its pact size, the thing weighed a ton—think of it as a ic dumbbell. And the handling? Let’s just say it wasly user-friendly.

  This petite powerhouse packed the punch of a stelr core, turning "unlimited ser beams in a box" from sci-fi fantasy into a terrifyiy.

  To wield it, you he finesse of a spaceship gunner and the brawn of a mech warrior, all while special armor and fnked by a personal army—because apparently, operating a handheld apocalypse was a team sport.

  So, when Burn took on the White Dwarf, it was less of a duel and more of an absurd dah destiny, armed with a on that was essentially a star trapped ial, looking for an excuse to explode. Needless to say, it was anything but a discreet affair.

  But.

  Its use on the ground was RARE.

  It required special authorization from the faceless higher-ups residing millions of light-years away from this world. Obtaining the necessary permit would undoubtedly take a siderable amount of time.

  Burn couldn't help but suspect that the request to employ this resour the ground, g with the day before his march to Wintersin, had beeiculously processed long ago, awaiting the perfect excuse to surface.

  And what better timing than the elimination of their esteemed VIP ers? It was simply too ve.

  But this fast? Oh, they must be bending the rules somehow. Who needed permits anyway, right?

  So, it seemed that someone, in their infinite wisdom, decided to py the covert card and unleash the big gun without waiting for the official stamp of approval.

  Now, let's not go overboard with it. One or two shots fired, tops. They wouldn't want to obliterate too many resources or draw too much attention.

  Though, Burn couldn’t help but wonder if someoh grand authority had a hand in orchestrating this spectacle. They must be the mastermind behind it all, pulling the strings from their cushy throne.

  That recisely why Burn was super fident he could ha himself. Even with permits, they wouldn't be able to go overboard with the on, for fear of actally destroying the p.

  But, they were the type of people who would use the on illegally anyway, so there was no guarahey wouldn’t go overboard.

  In previous loops, Burn's fights were quite quick.

  This time, however, Burhey would wait until he let his guard down—since previously, they attacked just after Burn and Momo had calmed Yvain down.

  Thus, he told his generals and aides to spread the information that he wahe capital emptied for his 'me time.'

  Because nothing says 'rexing alone' like evig thousands and turning a bustliropolis into a ghost town. Clearly, Burn’s idea of self-care involved less bubble baths and more strategic vacuums.

  Here he was, drinking wine, wearing a luxurious house robe, sitting on the open baly of the pace, overlooking the city below—alone. He had been waiting for almost half a day.

  "Should I jerk off?" he muttered, thinking of the most vulnerable, careless state he could be seen in.

  But as he thought about jerking off, a face crossed his mind instead. He looked down and narrowed his eyes at his crotch. "So this is what it feels like to have a brain in one's pants."

  Man Le Fay’s face, huh?

  Once again, he spoke to his rebellious anatomy—“That’s your type?”

  One of these days, his dick would scream that it wasn’t its fault, and Burn would uand himself a bit more instead of shutting it up.

  Speaking of self-awareness, it might be a normal rea toward the memory of a woman he had kissed almost non-stop for 48 hours inside his custrophobic chariot.

  Not to mention how pretty she was.

  "Momo… Empress, huh?"

  Bzzzt—

  Burn’s pupil shrunk.

  BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

  Right on cue.

  Who would have thought that it would e at him just as Burn was navigating the treacherous waters of self-refle and anatomical betrayal?

  He was actually a bit off guard.

  From the horizon, with a love ached in the form of a deadly ser, came the White Dwarf's greeting. The shot was not just a casual hello; it was aimed with the precision of a sed lover, directly at the pace, with Burn as its heartthrob.

  Pure white.

  The bst was an overachiever. The kind of spectacle that wouldn't just settle for a loud bang—it craved a full-on light show. The heat was immediate, a sweltering embrace that could melt the resolve of any.

  The light was the kind of brilliant that had anyone questioning their life choices, illuminating every er of his now-not-so-cozy baly. It swallowed the space like a starved celestial being, leaving nothing in its wake but a memory of what once was.

  When the light a finally receded, like party guests who realized they were at the wrong address, the devastation was clear.

  The paow resembled a field of ashes—nothing but a huge crater with fine dust. And Burn was o be seen.

  For that specific sed.

  “Found ya.”

  Thanks to that first shot, he was able to pinpoint the dire of the source. With his house robe and the trusty sword he summoned, he kicked the air and flew straight at it.

  But one mustn’t fet that the White Dwarf didn’t have a cooldown period.

  BLAAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

  With its unlimited reserves of energy and a plete disregard for cooldown, it defied the ws of thermodynamics, possessing a self-sustaining cooling meism, drawing from its own boundless energy source.

  BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

  Shot after shot, it spared no expense, knowing no limits. Like a child with an infinite supply of fireworks, it reveled in its unyielding arsenal.

  BLAST! BLAAAAASTT!

  As the White Dwarf discharged its energy, it verted the excess into a cooling meism. This self-sustaining system ehat the on could maintain its furious assault without pause.

  With the greatest teology ever created, it defied the very principles of thermodynamic equilibrium, as if possessing a perpetual air ditioner in the depths of space.

  BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTT!

  Even so, the user remained an ordinary human.

  Would a special suit designed for the White Dwarf's user make a differe could only go so far. Teology may have its limits, but what about the user themselves?

  Would they possess the skill and precision necessary to aim and take down Emperor Burn, who was sciously prepared for su attabsp;

  The answer was simple: No.

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