(Third Person POV)
The campfire flickered weakly, shadows dancing against the crude walls of the goblin village huts. Rimuru's voice carried a nervous excitement as she tried to welcome the newcomers—Adventurers who had arrived with their leader. A woman in a black mask.
Her presence silenced even the goblins.
Nova stood behind Rimuru, eyes half-lidded, mismatched irises catching the firelight. His nine tails curled lazily, as if they belonged to a creature with no reason to fear anything at all.
But it wasn't the mask that intrigued him. It was what lay behind it.
(Nova's POV)
Ciel.
<
'So it really is her. The Flame Spirit's cage. Interesting.'
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He could see it—faint sparks of divine fire leaking through her aura. Ordinary eyes would miss it. But not him. Not after death.
The memory hit like an echo.
A gunshot. A hole in his chest. The warmth leaving his body.
…No fear. No regret. Just boredom.
'Humans. Always so fragile. So desperate. Pulling triggers they can't control.'
He tilted his head, watching Shizu carefully.
'She's different, though. This one is… cracked porcelain. Beautiful but broken. Ifrit gnawing at the edges of her sanity.'
<
'Good. A perfect opportunity.'
(Third Person POV)
Rimuru, oblivious to Nova's thoughts, bounced slightly in her slime body. "Um, it's nice to meet you! I'm Rimuru Tempest, a slime… uh, but not a bad one!"
Shizu's masked gaze lingered on the slime, then shifted subtly to Nova. She didn't speak, but her body tensed the way prey does when recognizing a predator.
Nova didn't move. He only blinked once.
To Shizu, it felt like standing before an abyss that blinked back.
(Nova's POV)
Ciel, her heartbeat?
<
'Good. Fear is honest. It means she won't waste my time with lies.'
He let silence stretch between them. Rimuru filled it with awkward chatter, but Nova preferred silence. Silence gave him space to think.
'This is where canon cracks. Ifrit is supposed to be Rimuru's trial. But trials are only useful if you can twist them.'
He glanced at Shizu again. The mask. The fire. The trembling hand that she thought no one noticed.
'She's already burning alive inside. All I have to do is wait. And when Ifrit shows himself—'
A faint smile tugged at his lips, gone as quickly as it came.
'I'll take him.'
(Third Person POV)
Night settled fully over the village. The goblins huddled together in awe of their new protectors. Rimuru, ever eager to play host, tried to introduce everyone.
Shizu gave polite nods, her voice soft and gentle when she finally spoke. Yet the warmth in her tone was undercut by a hidden tremor.
Nova said nothing. He didn't need to.
Every step he took made the air ripple faintly, magicules bending as though the world itself tried to accommodate him. The goblins noticed but couldn't explain it. Rimuru noticed but didn't understand it.
And Shizu… Shizu noticed and feared it.
(Nova's POV)
Ciel.
<
'Remind me. What did I say when I died?'
<
Nova chuckled softly—soundless, dark.
'Right. No exceptions.'
He looked at Rimuru, laughing nervously with the goblins. At Shizu, clutching her mask like it might shatter.
'Maybe I won't nuke everything just yet. But Ifrit… Ifrit will be mine. That much is certain.'
(Third Person POV – Closing)
The fire crackled. Rimuru laughed. The goblins whispered prayers of gratitude.
And Nova stood apart, watching, calculating.
He looked like an ally. Like a guardian fox walking beside fate.
But behind those mismatched eyes was something else entirely.
A god.
A mistake.
A fox who had died once and learned that even death was boring.
The village didn't know it yet. Rimuru didn't know it yet.
But Shizu felt it in her bones.
The real monster wasn't the dragon sealed in a cave.
It wasn't the slime bouncing around with dreams of peace.
It was the fox standing in the firelight, smiling without warmth.
The night stretched endlessly above, stars scattered like shards of broken glass across the sky. To the goblins, this was the first time they had ever seen such silence in their new village. A silence not born from fear of monsters lurking in the forests, but from something standing right in front of them.
The fox with nine tails.
(Nova's POV)
'They're all staring again.'
His gaze swept over the goblins huddled near the fire. Small creatures with wide, trembling eyes. Gratitude mixed with reverence, reverence poisoned by terror. They whispered his name—Lord Nova—as though the sound itself might draw his attention and consume them.
'Pathetic. Yet… useful. Fear binds stronger than loyalty. Rimuru wants their love, I only need their obedience. In the end, both will serve me.'
Ciel hummed inside his mind, an almost teasing note to her tone.
<
'Ego? No, Ciel. This isn't pride. This is survival. The one who rules through fear doesn't get betrayed. The one who rules through love gets stabbed the moment hope fades.'
<
Nova's lips twitched, humorless.
'Don't insult me like that.'
(Third Person POV)
Shizu sat apart from the others, mask glinting faintly in the firelight. Her breathing was steady, controlled, but her body betrayed her—fingers tightening around the fabric of her gloves, shoulders tense as though bracing for impact.
Ifrit stirred within her, and Nova saw it.
He always saw it.
The faintest flicker of flame in her chest, leaking cracks of light through a vessel too fragile to contain it. He could almost taste the heat radiating from her core, subtle but furious.
(Nova's POV)
'He's already restless. A spirit like that doesn't tolerate cages for long. Rimuru won't be enough when Ifrit breaks free. But me…'
His tails shifted, brushing against the dirt. Sparks of his own energy rippled, distorting the air. A few goblins gasped at the sensation, clutching each other. Nova ignored them.
'Me, I'm the one who decides who burns and who survives.'
His thoughts drifted back again—unwanted, uninvited.
The smell of iron. Blood pooling across concrete. A voice calling his name before fading.
Gunshot. Chest collapsing inward.
And him, staring at the world with cold detachment, whispering—
"If I ever get another chance… everything goes to ash."
The memory should have hurt. Should have stirred grief or rage.
Instead, it left him smiling faintly.
'And here I am. Promise still intact.'
Ciel's voice broke through, steady and clinical.
<
'Pending. Yes. But soon.'
(Third Person POV)
The goblins eventually retired to their huts, leaving Rimuru, Shizu, and Nova near the fading fire. Rimuru tried to keep the conversation lively, but even her enthusiasm dimmed in the oppressive silence.
Shizu barely spoke. Her masked gaze drifted often to Nova, like a moth too frightened to escape the flame.
Finally, she gathered the courage to ask.
"…What are you?"
The words were soft. Almost lost to the night air. But Nova heard them.
He turned his head, mismatched eyes catching the firelight. For a moment, he considered answering truthfully. He considered telling her that he was something far beyond human, beyond spirit, beyond the fragile laws of this universe.
Instead, he leaned forward slightly, lips curling in that faint, warmthless smile.
"Hungry," he said simply.
Shizu shivered.
(Nova's POV)
'Not a lie. Just… incomplete.'
Ciel chuckled softly in his mind, a rare amusement.
<
'No. I enjoy watching them confront truth. That everything they are is fragile. Disposable.'
His gaze lingered on Shizu's trembling form.
'And soon, Ifrit will test that fragility. And when he fails her… I'll be there.'
(Third Person POV)
The fire crackled one last time before collapsing into embers. Shadows swallowed the clearing. Rimuru excused herself, bouncing off with awkward cheer to check on the goblins, leaving only Nova and Shizu beneath the stars.
For a while, neither spoke. The silence stretched long and heavy, broken only by the faint whistle of wind through the trees.
But Shizu's hand—clenched tightly over her chest—said everything Nova needed to know.
Ifrit was stirring.
And Nova's mismatched eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Side Story – "When Mortals Interrupt Gods"
The void stretched infinitely. No stars, no light, just the endless hum of existence vibrating like a string plucked by an unseen hand.
Two beings sat across from each other.
Or, more accurately, they lounged across from each other in chairs that had no business existing here. One looked like a shifting storm of concepts—endless forms of light, shadow, flame, and silence rolled into a vague outline. This was JACW. The All-Powerful, the All-Present, the one who had existed before existence decided to exist.
The other… well, the other had chosen a far more irritating appearance: a man in a three-piece suit, sunglasses perched arrogantly on his nose, sipping from a coffee mug labeled #1 Omnipotent Being.
The One Above All.
(Though he refused to confirm the name, the mug did all the talking.)
"You're cheating again," TOAA said, taking a smug sip of his cosmic coffee. "You always do this whenever I let you shuffle the deck. Infinite dimensions, infinite timelines, infinite universes—then you suddenly declare, oops, infinite-plus-one, and act like you've won."
JACW's formless shape rippled with laughter, a sound that made entire galaxies shiver into supernovae.
"Don't whine. If your fragile Marvel fans want you to be the strongest, maybe you should stop relying on merchandised mugs to prove it."
TOAA nearly choked on his coffee. "Don't you dare bring my fans into this! At least they acknowledge me. When was the last time someone prayed to you?"
"Mortals don't pray to me," JACW said smugly. "Mortals exist because of me. Every thought they have, every bad fanfiction they write, every tragic anime death they cry about—I'm behind all of it."
TOAA waved his mug dismissively. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that. Last week, I had Deadpool break the fourth wall so hard he almost knocked on your door. Don't act like you're untouchable."
"Deadpool?" JACW scoffed. "Your biggest achievement is giving a psychopath a red spandex suit and letting him make fart jokes across realities."
TOAA's sunglasses slipped slightly down his nose. "…You're just jealous."
Before JACW could retort, another voice cut into the void.
"…Are you two seriously arguing about Deadpool?"
Both supreme beings froze. The void itself flickered, like reality couldn't process what had just happened. Slowly, they turned.
Standing between them, hands in his pockets, mismatched eyes glinting, was Nova—in his human form.
TOAA blinked. "…Wait. How are you even here?"
Nova shrugged casually. "I walked."
JACW's form rippled violently. "Impossible. This is the transcendental layer beyond the infinite meta-cosmic string. No mortal, no being from a timeline, can simply—"
Nova raised an eyebrow. "You're explaining rules to me?"
Both gods fell silent.
Nova smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair that had not existed a second ago but now was more comfortable than theirs combined.
"I've been aware of you two since the beginning. I just didn't care. But watching the 'All-Creator' and 'Above All' bicker like schoolchildren…" He tilted his head, lips twitching into something almost like amusement. "…It's too pathetic to ignore."
TOAA scowled. "Listen here, brat—"
Nova interrupted smoothly. "Deadpool? Really? That's your champion? That's the ace you pull against him?" He gestured lazily at JACW. "I've seen goblins with better strategic thinking."
JACW burst into laughter that warped entire conceptual layers of reality.
"Finally! Someone who gets it!"
TOAA slammed his mug down, which somehow shattered and caused three alternate universes to implode in protest.
"You know what? Both of you can go screw yourselves. I'm still canon. You're fanon. And him—" he jabbed a finger at Nova "—he's supposed to be stuck playing goblin babysitter in a slime's backyard."
Nova's eyes narrowed slightly, but his tone remained calm. Too calm.
"…Be careful, old man. Your canon ends where I decide it does."
The void fell silent.
For the first time in eons, JACW and TOAA both stared at a mortal—and saw something that unnerved even them.
Nova smiled, faint and cold.
"…Don't test how aware I really am."
And with that, he vanished.
TOAA slowly lowered his sunglasses. "…Did we just get threatened by an isekai protagonist?"
JACW sighed, formless shape shifting in something that resembled a shrug. "Worse. We got mocked by one."
For a long moment, they sat in silence.
Then TOAA grumbled, "I liked it better when mortals didn't talk back."
TOAA leaned back, manifesting a fresh mug of coffee out of spite. This one read: Still Canon, Still Better.
"You know," he muttered, "I'm starting to think your pet project is less of a 'fox' and more of a walking middle finger to narrative structure."
JACW rippled in amusement. "And yet, you're rattled. Admit it."
"I'm not rattled." TOAA took a long, deliberate sip. "…I'm irritated. There's a difference."
"Mm. Denial suits you."
Before TOAA could throw his mug again, the void pulsed. For a single, terrifying instant, both of them felt it—an afterimage of Nova's presence. Not his body, not his soul, just… awareness, brushing against their own.
Like a shadow tapping them on the shoulder to remind them it hadn't left.
TOAA stiffened. "Did he just—"
"Yes," JACW answered, voice strangely subdued. "He left a marker."
"A marker?"
"A claim," JACW clarified, ripples shuddering like a chill through infinity. "On this place. On us."
Silence.
TOAA stared into his coffee. "…I don't like him."
JACW chuckled. "You don't have to. You just have to survive him."
For the first time in forever, TOAA put his mug down carefully, not smashing a universe in the process.
"…This is going to be a problem, isn't it?"
JACW's laughter rolled like thunder across endless creation.
"Old friend, it already is."