(Third Person POV, with Nova's inner thoughts + banter from the supreme beings woven in)
The battle was unfolding just as canon dictated. Orcs clashed with Kijin and Lizardmen, the swamp waters running red under the weight of thousands. Rimuru stood at the center, calm but tense, issuing orders with newfound authority.
Nova leaned against a tree at the far edge of the battlefield, arms folded, expression unreadable. His human form caught moonlight in a way that made him seem both present and not, like a shadow refusing to blend.
Ciel, he thought, eyes tracking the chaos below. Probability of Rimuru keeping the narrative intact?
<
And the other three percent?
<
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. Minimal is relative.
Behind him, the air shimmered.
"Why aren't you doing anything?" came JACW's voice, a little too smug.
Nova didn't even glance back. "Because I don't need to."
"Oh, here we go again," TOAA grumbled. "Mr. Emotionless Puppet Master, sitting on his throne while everyone else does the work."
Nova's gaze didn't waver from the battlefield. "You're just mad because she's growing faster than your expectations predicted."
The Presence chuckled softly, voice like distant thunder. "And yet… he isn't wrong. Rimuru thrives under pressure. Perhaps that is the lesson here."
"Or maybe," JACW shot back, "he's just lazy."
Nova's smirk faded, eyes narrowing. "Lazy… is a luxury I don't have."
The gods quieted for a moment. His words carried weight—shadows of a memory only he bore. His death. The beginning.
Ciel's voice interrupted the silence. <
Nova pushed away from the tree, tails flickering faintly even in human form. He didn't move to intervene. He just watched as Rimuru's aura flared, preparing to confront the corrupted leader.
"…So it begins," Nova whispered, eyes gleaming faintly.
But he didn't step forward. He didn't lift a finger. He only watched.
The battle raged, Rimuru's voice cutting through the chaos as she unleashed her Predator skill. The Orc Lord's endless hunger was swallowed whole, erased in a tide of devouring blue light.
And just like that—the battle shifted.
Nova leaned back against the tree once more, folding his arms. Predictable. Almost boring.
<
Nova's lips quirked faintly. Always the optimist, Ciel.
The battlefield roared as Orcs scattered, their cohesion broken with their leader's fall. Victory was secured. Cheers erupted from the Kijin and Lizardmen, their survival purchased through Rimuru's intervention.
Nova didn't cheer.
He turned his gaze upward, to the silver light of the moon filtering through drifting clouds. For an instant, he saw something else there—something only he could see. The threads of countless universes, endless variations of this moment playing out in infinite loops. In some, Rimuru failed. In others, she perished. And in far too many… he wasn't here at all.
The weight of it pressed down, but Nova didn't flinch. He never did.
"Annnd he broods again," TOAA muttered. "Seriously, kid, you could at least pretend to be proud of her. She did just eat a demon lord candidate."
"She's not ready to be praised," Nova replied flatly.
"Wow. Harsh," JACW chimed in, voice dripping with amusement. "Do you talk to everyone like this? Or just the slime?"
"Everyone," Nova said without hesitation.
The Presence chuckled. "Consistency is a virtue."
Nova ignored them, eyes still on Rimuru. She was tired, but her spirit burned brighter now. Stronger. Wiser. And that… was enough. For now.
---
[Timeskip Begins]
Weeks later.
The Orc Disaster was long past, the swamp cleaned, alliances forged. Rimuru's name spread far beyond what Nova remembered from canon, whispered in awe and fear alike.
The slime had grown. And yet… Nova remained the same.
He walked through the forest in his human form, hands buried in his pockets, tails hidden from sight. Ciel's voice hummed in his mind, calm as ever.
<
And the missing percent? Nova asked.
<
He smirked faintly. Figures.
The air shimmered again, and the familiar presence of JACW slid in like an unwelcome draft.
"You know," JACW drawled, "at this point, you're basically a glorified babysitter. Don't you get bored? Watching her play leader while you sit in the shadows?"
Nova's expression didn't change. "She's building the board. I'm playing the game."
"Pretentious as ever," TOAA groaned. "Next you'll be telling us this is all 'part of the plan.'"
"It is," Nova said simply.
The Presence rumbled softly. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you're just afraid of what will happen when you intervene too much."
Nova glanced at him. His mismatched eyes glowed faintly, and for a fraction of a second, the Presence—the supposed embodiment of God itself—hesitated.
"…I intervene when I choose," Nova said, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut reality.
The gods fell silent.
Ciel's voice returned, grounding him. <
Nova's smile didn't reach his eyes. Finally. The real test begins.
He turned toward the horizon, the sun sinking low beyond the mountains. The wind stirred his silver hair, carrying whispers of what was to come.
"Enjoy the peace while it lasts," Nova murmured. "Because from here on… everything changes."
Side Story – The Day the Pen Went Silent
In the boundless void, where stars bled into strings of infinite dimensions, the usual trio—JACW, TOAA, and the Presence—were gathered. Nova, of course, sat nearby in his human form, ignoring them as usual.
"Something's… different today," TOAA muttered, squinting at the horizon like he could actually see beyond infinity.
"You finally noticed?" JACW smirked, arms folded. "The narrative flow feels… slower. Like the hand that writes this world is… pausing."
"Blasphemy," the Presence said, though his tone held amusement. "The author never stops."
Nova, still leaning against the nothingness, finally spoke. "Even gods take breaks."
The three supreme beings stared at him.
"…Wait," TOAA blinked. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Nova didn't answer. His expression was unreadable, though there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips—almost a smile.
JACW's eyes widened in mock horror. "Don't tell me—tomorrow, the story pauses?"
The Presence chuckled. "A single day, and you panic like mortals deprived of air."
"HEY," TOAA shot back. "A day without content is a tragedy!"
"Perhaps," Nova said quietly, gaze shifting upward. "Or perhaps it's just… preparation."
The gods muttered among themselves, throwing theories, insults, and ridiculous predictions at each other. But Nova said nothing more. He simply stood there, as though he already knew the truth.
And perhaps, he did.