It's been a few days since I saved that girl from that fool.
Funny how she managed to recognize me at the market. I still don't know how.
To be real, I don't care.
Responsibility? Yeah, I stopped signing up for that about a million years ago.
Now, I'm just a regular "kid" in the city of Velcrest, living my best pretend life attending school, doing homework, getting scolded for being late, and sleeping through lectures.
Aetherion really was a joke that wrote itself.
"Jack! Sit properly!" the teacher snapped for the third time that morning.
I yawned, spinning my pencil between my fingers.
"Yes, ma'am," I said flatly.
The class laughed softly. I didn't mind.
Humans had a strange way of pretending everything mattered grades, friends, social status.
It was cute, really. Like watching ants debate philosophy.
I turned my gaze to the window. Outside, the clouds were gray, heavy with rain.
The same kind of rain that always came before trouble.
By the end of the day, I was on the rooftop again.
My favorite spot where the wind actually listened, and the noise of humanity softened into background static.
"Another day pretending," I muttered, lying on the old tiles, hands behind my head.
I chuckled softly, thinking about the chaos of school.
"They always get mad when they can't catch me in tag. Honestly… I find it amusing."
Then, I sensed it.
A familiar presence. Small. Light. Hesitant.
I sighed. "Oh, no. Not her again."
Before I could fade from her perception, a voice piped up.
"Hello, mister!"
I turned my head slowly.
There she was the silver-haired girl from the tunnels.
Glory. That's what she called herself.
She waved, smiling as if she hadn't almost been sold to shadow demons weeks ago.
"Yeah," I said, sitting up, "what do you want, kid?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to see you."
"Right." I squinted at her. "You know stalking gods is a dangerous hobby."
She tilted her head. "You're funny."
"I wasn't joking."
"I know."
I exhaled. "Fine. What's your name again?"
"Glory!" she said brightly. "And you're Jack."
"…Yeah," I muttered. "Unfortunately."
Two years later.
Two mortal years.
Not long for a god, but apparently enough for everything to get more annoying.
Glory had somehow enrolled in the same school as me. She followed me around like a shadow that could talk endlessly.
She was always cheerful, always talking about things I didn't care about: sweets, stories, friendship bracelets.
But even I had to admit… she made the silence less heavy.
"Hey Jack, hey!" she called, waving from across the schoolyard.
I sighed. "What?"
"Did you do the homework?"
"Yeah."
"Can I see it?"
"No."
"You're always so mean!"
"I know."
We both laughed. The sound echoed through the courtyard.
Sometimes I wondered if this was what mortals called happiness.
Then I remembered I didn't do happiness.
That morning, something new happened.
The teacher walked in with a bright smile. "Good morning, children of tomorrow!"
Everyone groaned. I winced.
"Why does she always say that?" I whispered to Glory.
"Because it's cute!" she whispered back.
"It's disturbing."
The teacher clapped her hands. "We have a new student joining us today. Come in, please."
The door opened.
A girl stepped in tall for her age, long auburn hair tied neatly with a velvet ribbon. Her uniform was spotless, and her confidence filled the room like perfume.
"Introduce yourself, dear," the teacher said.
The girl bowed slightly. "My name is Lyra Jones. It's a pleasure to meet everyone."
A collective woah rolled through the classroom.
I groaned internally. Great. Another noble.
The teacher pointed. "You can take the seat beside Jack."
Of course.
Of course she would.
She sat beside me with a polite smile. "Hello, Jack."
I looked at her. "Sup."
Her smile faltered slightly. "You could say hello back, you know."
"I could," I said. "But I didn't."
A week later.
I learned three things about Lyra Jones.
One: she was ridiculously competitive.
Two: she was annoyingly smart.
Three: she hated losing.
Unfortunately for her, I hated losing more.
When test day came, the teacher cheerfully announced, "Alright, everyone! Show me what you've learned!"
I stared at the paper.
Then at the other students.
Then I smiled.
"Let's see what's in those adorable little heads," I murmured.
With a tiny flick of divine intent, the thoughts around me became readable waves of noise a sea of panic, desperation, and regret.
"What's the answer to number three?"
"Did I study this ?"
"Why is Jack smiling like that?"
Ah, music.
I scribbled answers lazily, finishing half the sheet in two minutes. Then I noticed Lyra beside me focused, elegant, confident.
She was enjoying this.
That wouldn't do.
I leaned slightly, watching her write, then smirked. "Oh, you missed question six."
She blinked. "What?"
"Nothing."
She checked her paper, panicked, erased an answer, and messed up the rest.
I laughed under my breath. "Too easy."
A few days later, the results came out.
"Alright everyone, line up!" the teacher called. "If I call your name, sit down!"
One by one, students sat.
Glory's name was called she grinned and plopped down happily.
Eventually, only two names were left.
Mine.
And Lyra Jones.
The room buzzed with tension.
The teacher paused dramatically. "Second place…"
Lyra exhaled, already smiling.
"Lyra Jones."
Her head jerked up.
I grinned. "Tough luck."
The teacher continued, "First place Jack."
The class erupted in whispers.
Lyra turned to me, eyes wide, lips pressed thin. "You!"
"Me," I said. "Pleasure losing you."
From that day onward, Lyra declared war.
She challenged me in everything: grades, races, spell recitation, even lunch table debates.
And she lost. Every. Single. Time.
She'd glare at me, cheeks puffed in frustration, and I'd just smile lazily.
"This is heaven," I'd mutter to myself, lounging under a tree while she fumed across the field.
Glory would sigh beside me. "You're terrible, Jack."
"I know."
"You enjoy making her mad."
"Her anger is art. Let me admire it."
Three years later.
The final year of elementary school.
Lyra still hadn't beaten me.
Glory had grown quieter, though. I could tell she missed when things were simpler when I laughed for real instead of mockery.
Graduation day came with bright skies and the faint sound of mana bells.
Everyone wore white. Parents gathered.
I didn't have parents.
Didn't need them.
But Lyra's parents tall, elegant nobles with the aura of mana wealth approached me after the ceremony.
"You must be Jack," the man said, voice deep and polite.
"Depends who's asking."
He chuckled. "We've heard a lot about you from our daughter. You seem to have quite the rivalry."
"Rivalry?" I said. "I just win."
Lyra groaned beside him. "He's impossible!"
Her mother smiled gently. "You're very talented, Jack. Tell me, where are your parents?"
I looked away. "Gone."
There was a silence. The man exchanged a glance with his wife, then smiled again.
"In that case… would you consider coming with us? We'd be honored to have you as part of our family."
Lyra's jaw dropped. "Wait what?!"
I blinked. "Adopt me?"
"Yes," her mother said warmly. "We've seen your potential. You deserve better opportunities a noble education, access to mana archives, training"
I raised a hand. "Sure."
They froze. "Just like that?"
"Yeah."
Lyra gawked. "Why would you?! You'll live with me!"
I grinned, leaning close. "Exactly."
She paled.
Glory covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
"Every day," I said softly, "I'll be there… winning. Watching your pride crumble one breakfast at a time."
"Y-you demon!" Lyra shouted.
"Technically? Close enough."
That night, I stood in front of the Jones estate a towering manor bathed in blue mana light.
I looked up, smirking.
"So this is my new playground."
For a god who'd built these world, it was amusing how much joy I found in something so small childish rivalries, laughter, mortal warmth.
But deep down, I knew this was all temporary.
Because somewhere beneath Aetherion's calm sky… something old and dangerous was stirring again.
Still, for now, I smiled.
"Let's see how far this game goes."
To be continue....