[Location: Unknown, The World of Elias]
In a chamber where light dared not tread, the air was thick with a suffocating darkness.
Five figures sat in a circle, their forms obscured by shifting shadows.
The only illumination came from a magical projection hovering in the center, and the five pairs of blood-red eyes fixed upon it.
The silence in the room was absolute, heavy enough to crush bone.
On the projection, a battle raged. Or rather, a calamity was unfolding.
Crack.
The sound of stone pulverized to dust echoed in the quiet room. One of the figures had gripped their throne's armrest so tightly it had disintegrated.
"Impossible..." The voice trembled, losing its composure entirely.
"How can the King of Darkness possess such might?"
"The reports are absolute," another voice hissed, laced with panic.
"The Cultists sacrificed thousands. Their technique summons a Ninth-Order calamity! Are you telling me the Voss Patriarch has matched that?"
"He hasn't just matched it," a third voice shrieked, hysteria creeping in.
"Look at the energy fluctuations! He's suppressing it!"
The atmosphere in the room shattered.
Ninth Order.
It was a realm humanity had relegated to myth. A stage where a mortal shed their coil and touched the domain of Divinity.
To reach the Ninth Order was to stand on the precipice of becoming a Demigod.
"If he ascends..." the hysterical voice continued, "our plans... the Void... it's all over!"
"Enough."
A single word cut through the panic like a blade of ice. The temperature in the room plummeted instantly, frost creeping up the dark stone walls.
The leader of the five leaned forward. His red eyes didn't waver from the projection of Theron Voss.
"Umbra, compose yourself. So what if he touches the threshold of the Ninth Order?" the Leader said, his voice smooth, terrifyingly calm.
"The wheels of fate are already turning. The Void Demon God has stirred the Heavens. Today, humanity's strongest shield will break."
"But—"
"No buts," the Leader interrupted, his killing intent flooding the room.
"Even if Theron Voss were a true Demigod, he dies today. The outcome has been calculated by the stars themselves."
The other four fell silent, cowed by his conviction.
"With his death, the Empire loses its spine. Chaos will reign, and in that chaos, we shall move freely."
The Leader smiled in the dark. In his mind, checkmate had already been called.
He had accounted for the armies, the magic towers, and even the intervention of the Holy Church. Theron Voss was a dead man walking.
Unfortunately, the Leader had made one fatal error. He had calculated everything in this world.
But he had not calculated for an anomaly from another world.
He had not calculated for Damien.
"Watch closely," the Leader whispered, his pupils dilating until his eyes were pools of pure blood.
"For the Demon King to return, the present world must burn."
He raised a gloved hand.
"For the Demon King!"
The fear in the room vanished, replaced by fanatical devotion.
"For the Demon King!" (x4)
Unbeknownst to the sleeping world, the countdown to the apocalypse had officially begun.
…................…..
[Location: Voss Estate – The Nursery]
[POV: Damien Voss]
Chaos was brewing outside, but for Damien, the real prison was these four wooden walls.
Two days.
It had been forty-eight hours since the news arrived that the mission squad was nearly wiped out.
The Voss estate, usually a beacon of order, was in shambles. Maids were whispering in corners, guards were patrolling with drawn swords, and the heavy scent of medicinal herbs wafted through the halls from where Alfred and the survivors were being treated.
But Damien didn't care about the atmosphere. He cared about the numbers floating in front of his eyes.
"Damn it, stupid father," Damien grumbled internally, his tiny fists bunching up the silk bedsheets.
"Not only are you making Mother cry, but do you have any idea how expensive you are?"
He glared at the translucent blue screen hovering above his crib.
[System Active] [Buff: Semi-Immortality (Target: Theron Voss)] [Time Remaining: 23: 57: 31]
"Less than twenty-four hours."
Damien kicked his legs in frustration.
"I spent 100 Destiny Points (DP) on that buff! That was my entire starter pack! If he dies after the timer runs out, I'm bankrupt and fatherless."
He tried to swipe the screen away, but his motor control was still garbage. He hated this body. He hated the drool, the wobbling head, the inability to walk.
"System, give me a status update on Theron!"
[System Notification: Insufficient Destiny Points. Cost: 10 DP.]
"You capitalist vampire!" Damien screamed in his mind.
He felt his emotions spiraling. It wasn't just the points. The crushing reality of his situation was setting in. If Theron died, the Voss family would fall.
If the family fell, Damien, a useless infant, would be collateral damage.
Is this it? he thought, his vision blurring. Is this the 'reincarnation' the gods promised? A front-row seat to my own destruction?
Tears welled up in his eyes. Not fake baby tears, but genuine tears of frustration and fear.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over the crib.
"Oh, Young Master..."
A soft hand wiped his cheek. Damien blinked, focusing on the bright orange hair and emerald green eyes of Isabelle.
"Are you hurting, little one?" Isabelle cooed, lifting him gently. She pressed his small head against her shoulder, rocking him rhythmically.
"You can feel the sadness in the house, can't you? You miss your Mummy."
Damien didn't fight it. He rested his head on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Young Master," Isabelle whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
"Madam Elizabeth... she isn't doing well. The Elders have confined her to her chambers. They say it's to stop her from doing something reckless, but..."
She trailed off, hugging him tighter.
Damien sighed internally. Mother is locked up. Father is missing. And I am drooling on a maid.
Is fate truly unchangeable? Did I come to this world just to be a tragic backstory for some other hero?
The hopelessness was a physical weight in his chest. The timer on the system was ticking down, second by agonizing second.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Suddenly—
BANG!
The nursery door flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to crack the wood.
Isabelle jumped, clutching Damien protectively as she spun around. "Who goes there?!"
A junior maid stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, sweat matting her hair to her forehead. She looked like she had sprinted across the entire estate.
"Isabelle!" the maid gasped, her eyes wide and wild. "Grab the Young Master! Go get the Madam!"
Isabelle stepped back, trembling. "What is it? Have the enemies breached the walls?"
The maid shook her head violently, a mixture of terror and ecstasy on her face.
"No! It's the Patriarch!" she screamed. "Lord Theron has returned!"
Damien's eyes snapped open.