Modern technology could take humanity far — but only as far as the world allowed.
And in a world crawling with supernatural beings, that wasn't very far at all.
Humans believed what they wanted to believe.
They trusted their cameras, their internet, their shaky phone footage.
They mistook illusions for truth and truth for fiction, because reality — the real reality — was something they were never meant to see.
And revealing that hidden world?
That had always been his job.
Loki still remembered the panic in her eyes — Eve — when she arrived breathless at his sanctuary. A sanctuary carved beneath the surface of the world, an underground vault disguised as a simple room.
Even now, the memory tightened his chest.
"...I know I shouldn't have housed her," he muttered to himself. "But I'm still too damn naive. She makes that face and I… I'd open the door again."
He sat at his cluttered desk, surrounded by flickering green sigils. His fingers traced the faint scorch marks on the stone walls — reminders of old enchantments, older promises. Eve wasn't his lover. She wasn't even a true friend. They had been… acquaintances.
Long before modern faiths. Long before crosses and churches.
Back when Rome was young and arrogant.
They grew closer then. Too close. For a moment, he had believed something rare existed between them — something genuine, something forbidden for beings like them.
But after the Jesus incident — after everything collapsed — she vanished.
And Loki's heart shattered with her absence.
He spent centuries searching.
Centuries forgetting.
Centuries rebuilding himself.
Eventually, only a ghost of her remained in memory.
Until a few weeks ago, when she appeared at his doorstep again.
Her green eyes… her green hair…
They dissolved every wall he had built.
"Haaa… no. No." Loki slapped his cheeks lightly. "Family first. Family's more important…"
He willed away the ache in his chest as he summoned magic. Green circles of power spiraled to life around his hands, layering enchantments upon enchantments.
A strand of Eve's glowing green hair floated above his palm.
He held it with reverence, almost with fear.
"...She left in a hurry," he whispered. "And with a cruel amount of essence."
He stretched the hair delicately, overlaying spell after spell. The room brightened with emerald radiance.
Then—
Crack.
The enchantment shattered to dust.
The strand dissolved.
Loki flinched.
But he tried again.
And again.
Seconds turned to minutes.
Minutes to hours.
Sigils burned. Essence whined. His magic strained.
And then—
Snap.
The hair disintegrated entirely.
"Fuck!" Loki roared, slamming his palms against the table. His heart quivered — not from anger, but fear.
He looked down at himself. His clothes were still stained with drying blood.
He glanced at the sealed door behind him — the room where his father rested, unconscious.
He still felt the blood beneath his fingernails — the blood that leaked from Odin's eye sockets when Aron confronted him.
Loki had bandaged the Old Father himself.
He knew the stakes.
He knew the promise he made.
He had given Aron his word.
And Aron did not tolerate broken oaths.
"...Shit," Loki breathed. "I need help."
He stepped out of the vault, heading toward the exit — only to feel a massive hand clamp onto his shoulder.
Thor.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Thor growled.
"My spell isn't working," Loki answered bluntly. "I need assistance."
Thor blinked, flicking his long red hair aside in disbelief.
"Your spell isn't working? You? The best caster alive? Father said it himself — who the hell casts better than you?"
Loki said nothing.
Silence thickened between them.
Thor's blue eyes widened with realization. "Wait… no. No, Loki. Don't tell me you're going to him."
"I will do what I must," Loki replied—and shoved Thor's hand off.
Thor stepped in front of him. "Loki, are you insane? You're going to ask that piece of shit? Has your Aesir blood dried out?"
Loki stopped. Shoulders tense. Back still turned.
"…Me? Crazy?" His voice cracked — not with humor, but with pain. "No, Thor. I'm not crazy. What happened to us — what happened to Father — that was crazy!"
He turned his head, eyes dark and haunted.
"I know it's my fault."
Thor shook his head immediately. "I'm not blaming you. It happened because I'm weak—"
"No." Loki's voice hardened. "This is on me."
Thor stepped forward to grab him—
—but Loki vanished.
Invisible. Gone.
His voice echoed faintly around the hall:
"I will make this right… Brother. I'll fix everything."
Thor spun, searching desperately.
But when Loki didn't want to be found…
Not even Thor's godly senses could track him.
"Fuck… fuck! FUCK!" Thor bellowed, smashing a pillar with one swing.
. . .
Loki appeared elsewhere.
Different clothing.
Different posture.
Different height entirely.
A new form — one of his finest shapeshifts.
He had to be cautious. Eve's essence was beyond ancient. Beyond simple spellcraft. He needed more than clever casting.
He needed madness. The kind shaped by genius. The kind he could never fully embrace.
And he knew someone who had.
A prodigy turned maniac.
A human who clawed his way into godhood.
A thief of Heimdall's all-seeing sight.
A new-age deity forged in modern culture.
Once Loki had envied him.
Now he only hoped he would listen.
He walked through the gilded gates of the mansion — modern, gaudy, impossibly large.
He exhaled and raised a hand.
"Caesar," Loki called, his voice calm but brittle. "Open up."
The gates parted without a single touch.
Loki stood before the mansion's entrance, unimpressed.
"…show off," he muttered as he stepped forward.
The estate was massive — not as large as some palaces he had seen in his lifetime, but large enough for someone who liked pretending to be divine.
The air shimmered faintly with enchantments, a mix of divine blessings and repurposed human tech. That alone told him Caesar hadn't been idle.
He turned invisible once more.
Caesar was never alone — and Loki wasn't here solely for him.
Alexander would be here too.
The two prodigies always stuck together, the reincarnated conqueror and the mad new god.
Inside, the mansion vibrated with noise — heated discussions, clashing egos, clashing auras. Loki felt them all: nephilim, demigods, demi-demons, children of forgotten gods and fallen angels.
The "young generation."
All gathered.
All stupid.
All predictable.
He floated above the meeting hall, watching from the shadows.
Inside the Meeting Room
Dozens sat around a massive circular table carved from celestial oak and concrete — a fitting merge of arrogance and modernity. Colors of various bloodlines flared around them, overlapping like unstable storms.
"…I say again," Caesar declared from the head seat. "No longer will we remain chained. They have all retreated. Angels to their heavens. Demons to their pits. Gods to their corners of dust."
His voice echoed powerfully, emboldened by both charisma and magic.
"It is our time."
Chairs trembled as many nodded. Some slammed their fists in agreement.
"They left us scraps," one demigod spat. "Scraps of the power they hoarded for themselves."
"We can surpass them," said another. "We've seen humanity grow. We can grow too."
"Indeed, my friends…" Caesar raised a hand. "We lived pathetically long enough. They granted us wisdom, immortality, magic — but chained us with their ancient fear."
His expression hardened.
"Fear of one single pebble."
They knew who he meant.
They whispered the name even when they dared not say it:
Aron.
Loki noticed the tremor in their hearts when that unspoken name passed between them.
Good.
Fear kept fools alive.
But Caesar was not afraid.
Not anymore.
"…but what if they were right?" Alexander finally spoke, his deep voice breaking the cheers.
The room silenced instantly.
Alexander wasn't just respected.
He was revered.
A reincarnated legend. Zeus's chosen student. A warrior who had earned the title Great twice in two lifetimes.
Caesar turned toward him with a tight smile.
"Brother…"
He clapped a firm, affectionate hand on Alexander's shoulder.
"I know your greatness. I know Zeus carved you from ambition and steel. But…" Caesar leaned close, voice dropping, "being the best does not mean you're correct."
His grip tightened.
"So I ask you — choose a side."
He gestured to the room.
"Are you with us — the young and new? Or with the old, rotting cowards who tremble before one man?"
A long breath escaped Alexander.
He stood.
"Caesar… there is a reason your own people betrayed you. A reason you fell. And I don't blame you for it."
His expression softened with a painful honesty.
"I was the same. Ambitious. Blind. Hungry. But I learned my lesson."
He stepped away from his chair.
"So consider me out. This is suicide — not ambition."
Caesar caught his wrist.
"Brother… trust me. With your strength and my sight, we can—"
Alexander shook him off.
"Your head is drowning in delusions, Caesar."
"Delusions made us!" Caesar snapped. "Delusions made you! Have you forgotten your glory? Your empire? Your throne?"
His voice roared through the chamber.
"You were Alexander the Great. A conqueror! An emperor! A god among kings!"
Alexander lowered his gaze.
Then pulled his hand free, gently but firmly.
"I'm sorry. This is where we part."
His footsteps echoed toward the exit.
SLAM!
The door closed behind him.
Caesar's face twitched, then twisted.
"…coward!" he roared.
The room flinched.
He inhaled sharply, regaining his composure.
"…we continue," he commanded. "Our legacy will not remain inside dusty books. We will pursue greatness. Claim it."
He raised his hand.
"Remember this — steel snaps, stone crumbles, kingdoms fall… but the will that refuses to kneel shapes the future."
He spun, arms wide.
"THE WORLD DOES NOT BEND TO THE STRONG.
IT BENDS TO THE RELENTLESS!!!"
"YAAAAA!!"
Staffs and blades rose.
Auras flared.
Blind faith surged.
Loki watched.
It would have been amusing if it weren't so suicidal.
Caesar's triumphant smile froze when a cold hand rested on his shoulder.
"We need to talk," a calm voice whispered, "privately."
Caesar didn't need to look to know.
Loki.
He excused himself, patting backs, urging the younglings to keep their fire burning bright.
He entered his private office — a place warded with more spells than necessary.
Caesar's Office
"So," Caesar said, settling into his oversized chair, "what does the esteemed Trickster want in my humble abode?"
Loki canceled the illusion, appearing in his true form as he sat.
"…time to return my favor," Loki said quietly.
Caesar smiled — that controlled, smug curl of the lips Loki had despised for centuries.
"What do you need? I owe you. Without you, I would be dead a thousand times."
Loki's expression soured.
"…sometimes I regret that," he muttered. "But here we are. I need your help. You still have Heimdall's black sight."
Caesar's eyes flickered with dark, hungry pride.
Loki placed the strand of glowing green hair on the table.
"I need her location. Now."
Caesar lifted the hair between his fingers, smiling wider.
"I used to worship you," he said. "You, Thor, the great Allfather. I thought you were pillars."
Loki's jaw clenched.
"But I was wrong," Caesar whispered.
"Be careful," Loki growled. "Finish that sentence wrong and—"
Caesar snapped his fingers.
His eyes turned pitch-black.
The air shifted.
His dark hair rose, merging with the green strand as the spell activated.
A loud CRACK of energy snapped through the room.
"…found her."
Loki's reaction was instant.
He slammed both palms onto the desk, leaning forward.
"WHERE?"
"…a forest. Beneath the peak of Mount Everest. Hidden valley." Caesar's eyes returned to normal. "Remote. Old. Protected."
He turned to Loki—
—but the chair in front of him was empty.
Loki was gone.
Vanish-fast.
"Losers…" Caesar muttered under his breath, settling back. "Always in a hurry."
Then his smirk returned.
Because now he knew where Loki was going.
Where Eve was.
And where the Slayer was headed.
"…to the east, then," he mused.
.
.
.
An irreparable damage to the soul—that's what accepting immortality truly meant. And Aron knew that damage better than anyone. He could feel it. He could sense it. He could see it: a soul no longer moving forward, only circling endlessly in the same moment in time.
That was the price the minor gods demanded from humans they deemed "useful." And humans—the so-called greatest creation of GOD—walked willingly into the same trap again and again.
He had watched them fall. Watched them break. Watched them repeat the same sins until repetition became their nature.
Jesus, the Son of God, had come and sacrificed Himself for these stubborn creatures… yet centuries later, the story remained the same.
Yes—they could blame demons for whispering temptation.
Yes—they could blame minor gods for promising easier paths.
Yes—they could blame angels for offering guidance only when convenient.
But the will of choice—the most precious gift GOD gave humanity—was there for a reason.
If a human could say yes to sin… then they could also say no.
A simple choice, made impossibly complex by their own excuses.
Such was humanity, and such was their fate.
And Aron pitied them—not for their flaws, but because of what those flaws must have done to His Father.
"I see…" Aron finally murmured after listening to Loki's explanation.
"…I did what you asked. Now please… leave us alone, Slayer," Loki said, voice strained.
Aron turned his head, golden eyes landing on the Trickster like he were looking at something rotten. The gaze alone made Loki shrink—not out of fear, but because some part of him believed he deserved that stare.
"D-do we… have a d-deal?" Loki asked, unable to raise his eyes any higher.
Aron held the silence for a long moment, then exhaled.
"I am a man of oath. Your family will remain untouched by my hand…" he said, turning away.
"…for a time."
Loki twitched. He wanted to challenge those last three words—to demand specifics, demand limits—but he already knew the answer. And he knew better than to push further.
He turned away with a quiet sigh.
…I'm sorry, Eve…
But apologies, he knew, meant nothing when spoken too late.
He paused mid-step, looking back at Aron. The man stood facing the waking city, speaking quietly to someone no one else could see—his System, as the world called it.
Should I tell him? Should I warn him?
But the moment the thought came, Loki crushed it.
He had betrayed her enough times already.
And with that, he vanished—visible for an instant, then gone.
The morning sun rose behind Aron.
Aron flicked his gaze back to the floating interface.
[Divine Administrative Interface – Restricted Access]
User: Aron, Son of GOD (First Generation Human)
Authority: Bearer of the Original Covenant
Status: Active since Genesis – Day 1
Completed Missions: 100% (∞ recorded, 0 failures)
Current Date: 3 December 2025
True Age: ██████████████████ (suppressed by user request)
Apparent Age: 33
▶ Basic Information
True Name: Aron ben Adams
Aliases:
Slayer
Guardian
The Witness
The First Blade
Keeper of the Threshold
The Unbroken
Living Relic of Eden
One-Man Apocalypse
"That Guy Who Was Already Here When We Arrived"
Race: Primordial Human (Ascended)
Class: [Primordial Warden] (Unique ∙ Mythic ∙ EX)
Titles (Active):
Slayer of All Things
Guardian of All Things
He Who Walked With God
Final Guardian of the First Covenant
Witness of All Calamities
▶ Core Stats (Tier 1–2 Limits Released)
(All capped for display; actual values immeasurable.)
Strength: 999,999+
Dexterity: 999,999+
Constitution: 999,999+
Intelligence: 999,999+
Wisdom: 999,999+
Charisma: 999,999+
Divinity: 999,999+
Karma: +∞
Luck: Locked (Tier 6 Key Required)
▶ Power Tiers
Tier 1 – Mortal Transcendence (Unlocked)
Tier 2 – Planetary Authority (Unlocked)
Tier 3 – Stellar Authority (Locked)
Tier 4 – Galactic Authority (Locked)
Tier 5 – Universal Authority (Locked – Key of Michael Required)
Tier 6 – Multiversal Authority (Locked – Key of Michael Required)
Tier 7 – Outer Authority (Locked – Keys of Michael & Lucifer Required)
Tier 8 – [REDACTED]
Tier Ω – [The End and The Beginning] (Sealed by GOD)
▶ Selected Unlocked Authorities (Tier 1 & 2)
Adamant Physique – Undestroyable by anything created after Day 6.
Voice of the First Word – Commands become reality (planetary scale).
Blade of Eden – Flaming sword disguised as rusted gladius.
Perfect Memory – Remembers every moment of existence.
Deathless – Cannot truly die while Covenant stands. (Has died 12,744 times anyway.)
Witness Authority – Records all events into Akashic Record.
Absolute Quest Completion – Cannot receive a quest he can fail.
Inventory of Ages – Infinite storage of every item to ever exist.
▶In Storage
-Odin's Eye
-Zeus's Thunder Bolt
-Indra's Bow
-Ra's.....
.....
...
▶ Current Active Quest
Quest:"Find the Forbidden Fruit."
Objective: Locate and destroy the fruit.
Reward: Note from GOD Almighty
Progress: 100% (awaiting external trigger)
Failure Condition: Literally impossible
▶ System Note (Handwritten by GOD)
"🔒LOCKED🔒(will open after the mission is complete)."
[Status: Still here. Still waiting. Still undefeated.]
He used to feel proud looking at this screen—the culmination of his efforts since the dawn of the world.
But now? Pride felt meaningless. Titles felt hollow. Progress felt mechanical.
He glanced at the final locked note.
Hopefully… this time… it really will open.
A faint smile crossed his face as he turned toward the sunrise. He always liked the light—it reminded him of the first morning he ever witnessed… not the first morning of Creation, but his first morning alive. He still wished he could have seen the beginning. The moment light first pushed back the void.
He stayed there a bit longer, soaking in the quiet.
Then he rose from the hood of his car.
"…time for work," he muttered, sliding inside.
He checked his GPS.
"12,300 kilometers…? Eve, you bitch, why did you hide so damn far…"
He glanced behind him—out of habit—but saw no one.
No flutter of wings. No Uriel.
…must be busy…
He started the engine.
"We've got a long road ahead, buddy. But you can handle it," he said, patting the dashboard.
The engine roared in answer—eager, almost alive.
Aron chuckled.
"Didn't doubt you even for a second."
The tires screeched, the car lunged forward, and in the blink of an eye, it broke speeds no vehicle was ever built to reach.
"To the east, then…"