Darkness swallowed him whole.
Not the soft, comforting dark of closed eyes — but a void so complete it felt like existence itself had been erased. No body. No breath. No heartbeat. Just… silence, stretching into eternity.
Then something shattered the nothing.
A crack. A ripple. A system voice — metallic, digitized, both distant and impossibly close.
[WELCOME, PLAYER.]
[WORLD INITIALIZATION: COMPLETE.]
[MODE: CREATIVE.]
[RESPAWN LOCATION: ORARIO.]
Another pulse.
Suddenly, everything slammed back into being.
He inhaled sharply, lungs filling with air that tasted of stone, morning wind, and faint magic. His body reformed as green light coursed over his skin, reshaping him molecule by molecule.
When the light faded, he stood barefoot on a floating platform of nothingness, staring down at a world he knew only through anime and manga.
A vast circular city.
A colossal white tower piercing the sky — Babel.
The Dungeon sealed beneath it, seething with dormant hunger.
"Orario…"
His voice sounded different — smooth, melodic, infused with the subtle musical echo only elves possessed.
He looked down at his reflection hovering over a conjured pane of glass-like UI.
Silver hair.
Emerald eyes.
Elven features elegant and symmetrical in a way no human genetics could replicate.
An elf.
A damn good-looking one.
Then the interface expanded.
---
[CREATIVE MODE — FULL ACCESS GRANTED]
INVENTORY: INFINITE
FLIGHT: ENABLED
INVISIBILITY: ENABLED
WEATHER CONTROL: ENABLED
BLOCK PLACEMENT: UNLIMITED
ITEM REPLICATION: INSTANT
ENCHANTMENT CAP: NONE
---
A slow, incredulous laugh escaped him.
"I… just got isekai'd into Danmachi with Creative Mode."
Not survival mode.
Not adventure mode.
Creative.
Limitless, effortless, world-shaping power.
A god without divinity.
A mortal with the ability to reshape reality like clay.
He hovered downwards, testing flight — smooth, silent, intuitive. Wind rippled through his hair. The ground rose up to meet him, buildings growing large and clear.
No one looked up.
He was invisible.
Good. That would be useful.
He touched down outside the city walls, stood for a moment, and breathed in the scent of fresh stone and early morning dew.
One week.
He had one week before Bell Cranel entered the Dungeon and the main story began.
A slow, confident smile spread across his face.
"Plenty of time to stir things up."
He stepped toward the city gates — and the adventure began.
---
CHAPTER TWO — ACQUIRING ORARIO
Getting into Orario was easy.
Enchant cloak on.
Hood low.
Voice calm.
The guards barely registered him — just another elf passing through, beautiful enough to stare at, intimidating enough that they pretended not to.
Inside, the city was alive.
Market stalls burst with morning chatter.
Smiths hammered steel.
Goddesses wandered the streets disguised as mortals.
Adventurers prepared for their morning dive.
Aeron — the name he decided to keep — walked through the plaza like he belonged there. His presence turned heads naturally, but elves already drew attention. No suspicion.
He scouted the central districts until he found what he wanted:
A block of land within full view of Babel.
Restaurants. Small shops. Old inns. A warehouse collapsing under its own weight.
Perfect spot.
Too many buildings.
Not enough space.
But that was where valis came in.
Aeron slipped into the Guild, approached a desk, and prepared his first public appearance.
The clerk — a young human girl — blinked rapidly, mouth slightly parted. "Uh… hello, sir. H-how can I help you today?"
"I'd like to purchase property," Aeron said softly, voice smooth and gentle enough to make her straighten instinctively. "Specifically, that entire block near Babel."
"The… t-the whole block?" she stammered.
"Yes."
"With… what funds exactly?"
He reached into his inventory and withdrew several heavy sacks of valis — freshly created, but perfectly indistinguishable from the real currency.
Her face went pale.
"W-we'll need to process paperwork—"
Aeron leaned slightly closer, eyes warm. "Do I get a discount if I smile?"
She flushed bright red.
"N-no! I mean—I—I—just give me a moment!"
He didn't tease to be cruel. He teased because elves weren't supposed to do that — and people's reactions were endlessly entertaining.
Within an hour, the land was his.
Within two hours, demolition crews were scheduled.
Within three, rumors spread:
A mysterious elf bought an entire block near Babel.
He paid up front.
Not affiliated with any Familia.
Impossible money. Impossible confidence.
Aeron left the Guild with a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Orario had begun to notice him.
Exactly as planned.
---
CHAPTER THREE — BUILDING THE IMPOSSIBLE
The demolition took one day.
The rebuilding took twenty minutes.
At 3 a.m., Aeron hovered above the cleared block, invisible and weightless, and opened Creative Menu.
Block by block, with gentle hums of materializing magic, the Aeternum Emporium began to rise.
Marble floors.
Quartz pillars.
Sandstone archways.
Greek motifs carved into every surface.
Gleaming gold inlays shimmering even in moonlight.
Enchanted lanterns glowing a soft pastel blue.
Six towering floors — a palace of commerce.
The façade alone left even minor gods speechless the next morning.
Inside, he stocked everything from Creative Inventory:
High-quality armor — leather and iron
Weapons sharper than Hephaestus could craft
Potions so pure they glowed like gems
Enchanted items with effects that shouldn't exist
Dresses, jewelry, fine outfits
Rare ores and mythical crafting materials
Magic blades with elemental cores
Everything crafted with the ease of clicking.
He created fitting rooms, enchantment chambers, personal shopping wings — a structure far beyond normal Orario design.
Then came the employees:
All women, all carefully interviewed.
All given white dresses with gold accents — elegant, professional, symbolic.
And then came the name:
AETERNUM EMPORIUM
Where all things are crafted to last forever.
He stepped outside, admired his work, and whispered:
"Day one begins now."
And Orario trembled without knowing why.
---
CHAPTER FOUR — GRAND OPENING
Weather: clear skies.
Temperature: perfect breeze.
Clouds: aesthetically placed.
Aeron's power adjusted it all with a thought.
By sunrise, a crowd had formed around the new structure.
Adventurers whispered.
Nobles argued.
Deities stared.
Hephaestus Familia apprentices nearly cried seeing the craftsmanship.
And when the door finally opened, Aeron stepped forward — calm, confident, effortlessly captivating.
"Welcome," he said, voice carrying just enough. "Feel free to explore. And if you faint at the prices… please fall backward so my employees can catch you."
Laughter rippled through the forming crowd.
He teased.
Gently.
Unexpectedly.
And Orario loved it.
Whispers spread immediately:
"Who is he?"
"What kind of elf speaks like that?"
"That building—no mortal built that."
"He's going to change things."
"I hope he does."
Aeron turned, walked into his own store, and exhaled slowly.
"One week until Bell enters the Dungeon," he murmured. "One week until the gods start their games."
He smiled.
"I'll have some fun first."
He stepped inside.
Aeternum Emporium opened.
Orario's balance shifted.