The darkness of the Abyss no longer seemed cold to Masaru. It had become a familiar silence, a calm before every violent storm he had faced. But now, even that silence was cracking. A tremor echoed through the void, not physical, but spiritual. Masaru stood alone in that boundless blackness, his eyes shut, feeling the ripple of an energy he had only felt once before—when he died the first time.
"So it begins," he whispered.
The phantom pain of his old wounds pulsed through him—scars from the betrayal, from the Creator's divine flame, from battles lost and won. And from behind him, a voice he hadn't heard since his rebirth spoke, clear and haunting.
"You have walked far, Masaru Izuku. But the end is not the end yet."
Masaru turned slowly, facing the ghostly apparition of his former self—the boy who had once fought with hope, not vengeance. The Hero of Light. His past self looked at him with sad eyes.
"You're a memory," Masaru said. "A reminder of everything I failed to protect."
"Or everything you could still save," the younger version replied.
The memory stepped forward. The Abyss shimmered, and suddenly Masaru found himself back in the ruined city of Galenmore, the ashes of war still thick in the air. Around him stood the souls of the fallen—knights, mages, even innocent villagers. All of them looked to him.
"They wait for you," the younger Masaru said. "Not as the Hero. Not as Death. But as both."
Masaru clenched his fists. The line between vengeance and justice had blurred long ago, but he now realized something vital—he was not here only to destroy the Creator, but to break the cycle of blind devotion and divine cruelty.
"I will not become the monster they feared. I will become the reckoning they need."
The vision faded, leaving only the crimson ring of his magical aura glowing in the air. From the distance, footsteps echoed, drawing near. A figure emerged—Adolpha, her eyes fierce and wild, blood on her fur.
"The temple scouts have been slain. But their commander escaped. He's leading a convoy toward the Crystal Throne."
Masaru nodded. "Then we head north. The final gate lies beyond the throne."
Before they could move, a gust of wind circled them, and from it emerged Himari, battle-worn but determined. "The spirits are restless. The Creator is awakening something beneath the earth. I felt it in the ley lines—something ancient."
Masaru's jaw tightened. "Then we need to reach the Root of the World before he does."
Adolpha bared her fangs. "Even if it means facing the Divine Beasts themselves?"
"Even if it means shattering the heavens," Masaru replied.
They began their journey toward the Crystal Throne, passing over plains burned by holy fire, through mountains cracked by divine rage. Every step brought them closer to the edge of the world—where the gods first descended.
But as they neared the throne, a new challenge rose to greet them. A battalion of Seraphim Knights, clad in golden armor, descended from the skies. Their leader bore six wings and a halo that blazed like a miniature sun.
"Masaru Izuku," the Seraphim commander declared, "By order of the Creator, you are to be returned to the cycle. You defy divine will."
Masaru stepped forward, cape fluttering in the storm's wind. "Then let the divine witness what a broken soul can do."
With a howl, Adolpha lunged. Himari summoned a radiant sigil above their heads. Masaru drew his scythe of shadows and charged.
The battlefield erupted into chaos—light against dark, rage against order, rebellion against the will of the divine. And in the midst of it all, Masaru fought not just for vengeance, but for every soul who had ever been a pawn in the Creator's game.
As the battle raged on, a second sun appeared in the sky.
The Creator had awoken.
As the crimson mist cleared, the battlefield was littered with scorched fragments of reality, torn open by Masaru's wrath. The silence that followed was not peace—it was fear, trembling beneath the surface of the shattered sky.
Masaru stood still, his blade humming faintly with residual energy, his chest heaving from the effort. The remnants of Zareth's army had vanished into the void, disintegrated by his final attack. Yet, his eyes were not on them—they were locked on the distant silhouette of the divine palace, perched atop the floating citadel, guarded by the Creator's chosen.
"They felt it," Masaru murmured. "He felt it."
Adolpha limped forward, her silvery fur singed, her breath shallow but steady. "Your power… it's growing faster than even you can control," she growled. "You nearly erased everything."
Masaru nodded, his expression unreadable. "I had to. Zareth would've called down the Creator's curse if I hadn't finished it in time."
From the edges of the ruined valley, Himari and Kaien approached, battered but alive. Himari's robes were torn, her staff chipped, but her golden eyes burned with concern.
"You unleashed the Forbidden Incantation again," she said, voice low. "You promised you wouldn't."
"I had no choice," Masaru replied, without looking at her. "Zareth had sealed the sky. I needed more than strength—I needed annihilation."
Kaien grimaced. "Annihilation shouldn't be your first solution, Masaru. The line between vengeance and destruction is thin. And you're walking it blindfolded."
Masaru finally turned to face them. "This was just the beginning. Zareth was a vassal. The real monster sits on the Throne of Eternity, watching us all like a god."
"He is a god," Himari whispered. "And you intend to kill him."
Masaru's voice dropped to a whisper. "No. I intend to unmake him."
Suddenly, the sky pulsed. A low vibration tore through the air, and reality twisted like fabric being stretched. From above, a celestial rift opened—golden light pouring out in silent fury.
A figure descended, wreathed in holy flames. Clad in silver armor etched with cosmic runes, the being landed with thunderous weight. A sword twice his size rested on his shoulder. His eyes glowed like suns.
Kaien stepped back. "That's… no ordinary angel."
Himari stiffened. "That's Seraphael. One of the Seven Divine Sentinels."
The being's voice rang like a bell across the broken land. "Masaru Izuku. You have violated the Divine Accord. You summoned death magic beyond mortal limits. The punishment is extinction."
Masaru stared at him, unflinching. "Then come. Try."
Seraphael raised his blade, and with a gust of celestial wind, launched forward. The impact was instantaneous—Masaru barely parried as the ground beneath them exploded. Sparks rained down like meteor showers. Seraphael's blows were precise, each strike aimed not just to kill, but to cleanse.
Masaru ducked, twisted, and answered with a dark pulse of energy. The air warped around them, black and gold colliding in bursts of light. Adolpha leapt in, fangs bared, but was knocked aside mid-air by an invisible force. Himari conjured a barrier, protecting Kaien as the two clashed again.
Seraphael's sword met Masaru's in a storm of sparks. "Your soul reeks of damnation. You are no longer human."
"I was never human to them," Masaru hissed. "Just a pawn in the Creator's game. But now—I write my own fate."
With a roar, he released a surge of soulfire—violet flames laced with death essence. It struck Seraphael dead on, pushing the angel back through the air. But Seraphael raised his wings, shielding himself, and emerged unharmed, golden eyes narrowed.
"You wield power not meant for mortals," he said coldly. "It will destroy you."
Masaru clenched his fist. "Good. As long as it destroys him first."
From above, the rift widened. More figures emerged—three more Sentinels, each armed with divine weapons, eyes fixed on Masaru.
Himari screamed, "We can't take on all of them!"
Masaru stood, blood dripping from his lips. "I don't need to fight them all. Just buy time."
Kaien yelled, "Buy time for what?!"
"For the truth," Masaru said.
And then—he vanished.
One moment he was there. The next, his body disintegrated into threads of shadow and smoke. Himari gasped. "That's… impossible."
Adolpha howled in frustration. "He shadow-stepped into the Ethereal Layer. Only gods can navigate that!"
The Sentinels looked at each other, momentarily uncertain. Then Seraphael pointed his blade downward.
"Cleanse the land. Erase his allies."
Kaien and Himari braced themselves as divine energy surged again.
---
Inside the Ethereal Layer—a realm of silence and time-suspension—Masaru drifted alone, his consciousness tethered by sheer will. Colors twisted around him. Memories floated like stars. In this place, even death feared to tread.
Masaru gritted his teeth. "Where is it…"
He reached deep into his soul, seeking the mark he'd carved into himself long ago. A memory flickered—his past life, the betrayal, the final words of the Creator before casting him into oblivion.
"I created you to fight evil," the Creator had said. "But your defiance… tainted the design."
Masaru's eyes flared. "You created me to die for your amusement."
And then, he saw it—a thread of light, hidden in the folds of the Ethereal current. Not divine… but primal. Something older than the gods.
He reached out.
It burned.
His mind reeled as he made contact. Visions surged through him—planets shattering, stars screaming, and a name whispered in an ancient tongue.
Kaorenth.
The God of Endings.
Banished before creation, sealed by the Creator.
Masaru's heart thundered. "You're still here…"
The thread coiled around his hand like a serpent. Power, pure and untouched, began to pour into him. Not just death. Not just vengeance.
Finality.
Masaru's body cracked, soul warping around the influx.
Outside, in the mortal plane, Seraphael stopped mid-attack. His eyes widened.
He felt it too.
A new force was awakening.
Not a weapon.
Not a hero.
But a reckoning.