**The Monarchs' Grand Hall**
Three figures sat around a massive table carved from solidified darkness—a material that shouldn't exist in nature, yet pulsed with malevolent energy as if alive.
Each figure radiated power sufficient to reshape entire continents, their mere presence creating atmospheric pressure that would instantly crush any normal human who dared wander into the room.
The first was Sillad, Monarch of Frost and King of Snow Folk. His form was elegant and terrible—skin like polished ice, eyes that gleamed with cold intelligence, and an aura of absolute zero that created frost patterns in the air around him. Where he sat, the table itself had developed a thin layer of crystalline ice.
The second was Rakan, Monarch of Beasts and King of Fangs. Massive and feral, his presence was raw predatory instinct given form. His muscles rippled beneath fur-like armor, claws capable of tearing through dimensional barriers rested casually on the table, and his eyes—glowing amber with vertical slits—constantly tracked movement with hunter's precision.
The third was Querehsha, Monarch of Plagues and Queen of Insects. Beautiful in a horrifying way, her appearance shifted between alluring and nightmarish. Insectoid features blended seamlessly with feminine curves, chitinous plates catching the light like jewels, and an aura of pestilence that made reality itself seem slightly sick around her.
They were deep in strategic discussion about the optimal timeline for the next major invasion—when the universe itself screamed.
Reality tore open directly above the center of their table.
CRACK!
A rift of blazing rainbow light erupted into existence, its colors so vibrant and pure they seemed fundamentally wrong in this place of darkness. The dimensional tear pulsed once, twice, then—
THUD.
Something heavy landed on the table's surface with a wet, meaty sound that echoed through the silent hall.
The three Monarchs froze, their conversation dying instantly. All eyes turned toward the object that had just been delivered to them.
It was a body.
Or rather, what remained of one.
The figure was crumbling to dust even as they watched, barely holding corporeal form. Magical binding chains wrapped around the disintegrating flesh—chains that pulsed with power even the Monarchs could feel. But despite the decay, despite the destruction, the body was still recognizable.
"Yogumunt?" Rakan whispered, his predatory eyes widening in genuine shock.
The dying Monarch's eyes flickered open one final time—multiple eyes across his constantly shifting face, all focusing simultaneously on his fellow Monarchs with desperate intensity.
His mouth moved, forcing words through a throat that was already turning to ash.
"He... is coming..." Each word seemed to cost him everything. "He's... coming... for all... of us... to... take... our... essence..."
The three Monarchs' eyes widened in unison. They surged forward, their chairs scraping back with supernatural force.
Sillad's calculating mind was already processing the implications. 'This death is different from anything I've witnessed before. The binding chains, the way his essence is dissolving rather than dispersing naturally—someone didn't just kill him. They unmade him.'
His cold eyes studied every detail of Yogumunt's condition with clinical precision. 'And from his words... someone is actively hunting Monarchs. Not for territory, not for war, but specifically for our powers.'
Rakan leaned forward, his massive clawed hands gripping the edge of the table hard enough to crack it. Despite the lack of deep emotional bonds between the Monarchs—they were allies of convenience and shared purpose rather than friends—the idea of one of their number being hunted stirred something primal in the Beast King.
His lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed rows of razor-sharp fangs. "Who did this to you?" he demanded, his voice a rumbling growl that shook the air. "WHO?!"
'Someone is hunting Monarchs,' he thought, and despite the grim situation, a thrill of excitement ran through him. 'Finally, something interesting. I'll make this hunter understand what it means to be prey. I'll tear them apart slowly and savor every moment.'
Yogumunt's remaining eyes locked onto each of them in turn, imprinting this final message into their minds with his last fragments of power.
"Aeon..." His voice was barely a whisper now, fading like smoke. "Aeon... is coming... for all of us..."
Then Yogumunt, Monarch of Transfiguration and King of Demonic Spectres—one of the oldest and most cunning beings in existence—crumbled completely to ash before their eyes.
The dust scattered across the dark table, leaving only the fading glow of binding chains that slowly dissolved into nothing.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Querehsha was the first to break it. A slow, predatory smile spread across her beautiful-terrible face as she leaned back in her chair, one hand slowly rubbing her thigh in a gesture that somehow managed to be both sensual and deeply threatening.
"My... my... my..." Her voice was melodious and venomous simultaneously, like poisoned honey. "Someone is hurting us Monarchs. How..." Her eyes turned from warm amber to frozen emerald, all pretense of amusement vanishing in an instant. "...brainless."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop despite Sillad's presence. Her aura of plague intensified, creating visible waves of toxic energy that warped the air.
Rakan's expression had transformed into something between a grin and a snarl—pure predatory anticipation. "Let's hunt him down," he growled, his claws extending further and scraping against the table with sounds like tearing metal. "I'll make sure to tear him apart piece by piece. I want to taste his blood, savor his flesh, and hear him scream as he realizes the mistake of targeting us."
But Sillad remained silent, his ice-blue eyes distant as his superior intellect processed everything they'd witnessed.
"The rainbow light that brought Yogumunt here…" His mind worked through the implications like a complex equation. 'That wasn't a random spell. I didn't sense any mana from it—only a strange energy. It felt like… a deliberate, calculated move by the one named… Aeon.'
He reached out mentally, trying to establish contact with Tarnak through their shared Monarch network. The connection should have been instantaneous—all Monarchs maintained psychic links for coordination.
But... Nothing.
'Tarnak isn't responding. He might be... In a place where communication is not possible or... possibly eliminated as well.'
His analytical mind continued its relentless calculation. 'Who is hunting us? And specifically for our powers, according to Yogumunt's warning. The Rulers can be eliminated as suspects—they want us dead, but they've never shown interest in stealing our authorities. They destroy, but don't absorb.'
Slowly, Sillad began to speak, his voice cutting through Rakan's bloodthirsty muttering and Querehsha's venomous planning.
"This is not a normal enemy to take lightly," he stated, each word measured and precise. He gestured toward where Yogumunt's ashes lay scattered. "I believe Yogumunt was sent to us deliberately by this 'Aeon.' A message, delivered in person."
Both Rakan and Querehsha turned their attention to him, recognizing the tone of voice Sillad used when he'd pieced together something important.
"The rainbow light—dimensional transportation magic of extraordinary sophistication. The binding chains—still containing residual power even on a corpse. The complete dissolution of Yogumunt's essence rather than natural dispersion." Sillad's eyes reflected calculating coldness. "This entity wanted us to find them. Or at least, wanted us to know they exist and are coming for us."
Rakan's grin widened, showing even more teeth. "It's more fun then!" He slammed one massive fist on the table, creating a crater in the solidified darkness. "I'll hunt him down personally. Let this 'Aeon' come—they'll learn what happens when prey tries to become predator!"
But Sillad's expression remained troubled, his tactical mind running through scenarios and finding disturbing patterns.
'Yogumunt was no weakling. His transfiguration abilities made him nearly impossible to kill permanently. And yet he was reduced to this—completely unmade, his essence extracted. Whatever this Aeon is, they possess power beyond normal comprehension.'
A cold sensation that Sillad refused to acknowledge as fear settled in his chest. His voice remained steady as he spoke his conclusion, "We may need to contact Asborn and Antares for this."
The chamber fell silent again. Calling upon the two strongest Monarchs—the Shadow Monarch and the Monarch of Destruction—meant acknowledging that this threat exceeded what the three of them could handle alone.
That admission hung heavy in the air, unspoken but understood by all.
Rakan and Querehsha opposed the idea inwardly, but neither voiced it aloud—they both knew Sillad was stronger. Calling in the two strongest Monarchs now would only make them seem useless, so they decided it was necessary to handle this problem named Aeon on their own.
Somewhere out there, an entity named Aeon was hunting them. And the hunt had only just begun.
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Seoul, South Korea - Later That Night
Ethan accompanied Sung Il-Hwan back to the older man's temporary residence, a modest apartment that served as his safe house. They stood at the entrance, the comfortable silence of two people who'd been through significant events together.
"You should meet with your family," Ethan said in a light tone but carrying genuine suggestion. "After all, within a week I'll have taken care of all the Monarchs, and you won't have a job to do anymore." He grinned. "Consider it early retirement."
He had initially planned to end all the Monarchs and take their powers within three months. But after facing Tarnak and Yogumunt—if it could even be called a fight, as it was nothing more than a complete beatdown—he understood the truth: the Monarchs were nothing but flies to him.
He could take them down and take whatever he wanted whenever he pleased. So why waste time? He could simply claim their essence cores early and spend the rest of that time enjoying his honeymoon with his wives.
Il-Hwan actually laughed at that—a genuine sound that seemed to surprise even himself. "Who wouldn't want to go jobless if they had money?" He shook his head with a smile, then his expression grew more thoughtful. "But I'll think about it. The family situation is... complicated."
Ethan nodded and didn't push further—he could force many things with his power, but forcing a man to reconcile with his family wasn't among them. Some things had to happen naturally, or not at all.
"Fair enough," he said simply. "Take care, Mr. Sung."
"You too, kid. Try not to destroy too many dimensions while I'm sleeping."
They exchanged final nods, and then Ethan vanished.
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High Above Seoul - A building Rooftop
Instead of returning to his comfortable apartment—where Anna and Jean were likely waiting in their sleep—Ethan appeared on a high rooftop overlooking the glittering cityscape.
The night wind tugged at his blonde hair as he gazed out at Seoul's lights.
"And I teased him about liking high places," he murmured to himself with an ironic smile. "Turns out I'm no better."
But he wasn't here for the view, no matter how pleasant. He had work to do.
Ethan raised his right hand before him, fingers splayed. Blue Genesis energy began to flow from his palm, coalescing into physical form as he began to draw in the air itself.
Four separate runes manifested—each one intricate and pulsing with different colored light.
Red for location. Blue for resonance. Green for connection. Gold for anchor.
His fingers moved with practiced precision, weaving the runes together through pure will and mathematical calculation.
The four separate constructs began to merge, their energies intertwining and combining until they formed a single, unified symbol—a complex red rune that pulsed with concentrated power.
'This should work,' Ethan thought, analyzing his creation with critical eyes. 'Combining locator Rune with resonance detection and telepathic amplification. A bit crude, but functional.'
From the center of the floating rune, a thin line of pure red energy extended outward. It moved through the air like a living thing, eventually connecting to Ethan's forehead just between his eyes—the traditional location of the "third eye" in mystical practices.
The moment the connection was established, Ethan's awareness exploded outward.
He closed his physical eyes and activated his Genesis Telepathy simultaneously. The combination of the custom locator rune and his cosmic-level telepathic abilities created something entirely new—a sensory net that could identify and track specific energy signatures across vast distances.
'Legia,' Ethan focused his intention, pulling the information from Tarnak's extracted memories. 'Monarch of the Beginning. King of Giants. The Rulers sealed him away in some dimensional dungeon... But the question is... where?'
The energy signature he was searching for was distinct in Tarnak's memories—ancient, primal, radiating the concept of "beginning" and "origin."
Giants were creatures of fundamental existence, and their king would carry that essence magnified a thousandfold.
'The energy signature of Legia is familiar to me thanks to Tarnak memories. The problem is finding which dimensional dungeon he's trapped in.'
The technique Ethan had developed was inspired by something saw in his previous life—Ki Sensing from the Dragon Ball universe. In that world, warriors like Goku could identify familiar energy signatures across vast distances and even use that connection to teleport directly to those individuals using a technique called Instant Transmission.
'I'm using the same principle but different application. Energy signature identification, spatial coordinate locking and finally, direct pathway creation.'
But finding Legia was proving more difficult than anticipated.
Ethan's consciousness expanded outward, spreading through Seoul, then beyond—covering the entire Korean peninsula, then Asia, then the whole planet Earth.
His awareness touched satellites, ships at sea, planes in flight, each presence barely registering as he sought something far more powerful.
Not enough. He pushed further.
His senses extended into the space beyond Earth's atmosphere, sweeping through the solar system like an invisible wave. Mars, Jupiter, Saturn—each planet was scanned and dismissed in fractions of a second.
Still not enough.
Ethan's consciousness expanded across the entire galaxy. Billions of stars, trillions of planets, all touched by his awareness in the span of moments. But more importantly, he began scanning the spaces between spaces—the dimensional dungeons that existed in pockets throughout reality.
'There!' A flash of recognition. An energy signature that matched what he was looking for—ancient, overwhelming, and importantly, restrained.
The locator rune pulsed brightly, turning from red to gold as it locked onto the coordinates. Ethan's eyes snapped open, glowing with blue Genesis light.
"Found you," he whispered.
He raised his hand and tore open a portal in one smooth motion. The other side showed a cave-like structure—rough stone walls, dim lighting, heavy with the weight of old magic and binding seals.
Without hesitation, Ethan stepped through.
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**The Prison Dungeon**
The dungeon that contained Legia was ancient beyond measure. The cave walls were covered in layer upon layer of seals—hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, each one placed by the Rulers to ensure their prisoner remained contained. They glowed with faint silver light, creating an almost beautiful pattern across the stone.
But all that magnificent work of magical imprisonment was focused on a single figure at the chamber's center.
Legia, Monarch of the Beginning and King of Giants.
He was... massive. Even chained and forced into a kneeling position, his head nearly brushed the cave's ceiling fifty meters above. His form was humanoid but impossibly large, his skin like weathered stone marked with glowing veins of primal energy. Thick chains—each link the size of a car—wrapped around his arms, legs, and torso, all anchored to the walls by seals that blazed with power.
His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and measured. He appeared to be in some form of meditative stasis, conserving his strength through millennia of imprisonment.
Into this ancient prison walked Ethan Carter, wearing sky-blue pajama pants with cloud patterns and a simple white t-shirt.
His hands were in his pockets, his expression casual—as if he'd just walked into a friend's house rather than a dimensional prison containing one of the most dangerous beings in existence.
He looked up at the massive chained figure, tilting his head back to take in Legia's full height, and whistled appreciatively.
"Damn, you're even bigger than I expected," Ethan called out cheerfully. "Hello up there! Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important... If you have anything left to do other than rotting along with the sealing Chains."
Legia's eyes opened slowly—each one the size of a car, glowing with power that predated most civilizations. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the tiny figure standing before him.
A human. A normal human, if his senses were to be believed, wearing sleeping clothes and grinning up at him like this was some kind of social visit.
"What..." Legia's voice was like tectonic plates grinding together, deep enough to vibrate in the chest. "...is a normal human doing here?"
His confusion was genuine. This prison Dungeon was sealed by the Rulers themselves. Even other Monarchs couldn't easily find it, let alone enter it. And yet this human—this small, fragile-looking creature—had simply walked in as if the barriers didn't exist.
Ethan's casual smile slowly transformed into something else. Something predatory. Something that made even an ancient Monarch feel a small, instinctive warning in the back of his mind.
The smile widened into a grin—all teeth and promised violence, his blue eyes beginning to glow with Genesis light.
"I'm about to turn you into a fucking battery of energy," Ethan said, his cheerful tone contrasting bizarrely with the threatening words. He spread his arms wide in a gesture of mock presentation. "Feel honored, Legia. You've been chosen by Ethan Carter for a very special purpose."
Legia's massive eyes widened in shock and dawning realization.
'This human... This energy... That's not human at all. That's—'
"Let's get started, shall we?" Ethan's grin widened impossibly further, his entire body beginning to glow with golden Genesis power. "I promise this will be very educational. For me, at least."
The King of Giants realized, in that moment, that his millennia of imprisonment might have been the preferable option.
His roar of fury and fear shook the entire dimension.
And Ethan's laughter echoed right alongside it.