The sky stretched vast and immeasurable, filled with the presence of extraordinary beings who floated effortlessly, sustained by laws different from those of the ordinary world. Hydras with massive bodies hovered in place, their multiple heads oriented toward the center. Dragons of ancient scales—some with wings folded, others spread—maintained a dense stillness, heavy with attention. Phoenixes wrapped in steady flames traced slow circles, releasing neither heat nor ash. Unicorns with solid forms and clear gazes remained apart, as if respecting an unspoken distance. Among them stood creatures from many mythologies, all of similar standing—none lesser, none out of place. Farther off, at varying heights, several humanoid figures floated in silence, their expressions serious, as though awaiting a long-announced signal.
At the center of that sky sat a young man, his body relaxed and his posture openly arrogant. There was no throne or visible platform, yet space itself seemed to acknowledge his position. His face was calm, free of tension, bearing a confidence that required no affirmation. Seated on his lap was a young woman of mystical beauty, with long red hair cascading in gentle waves. She caressed his face with slow, careful strokes, tracing his cheek and chin with a gesture full of genuine affection. The young man neither moved nor looked away; he accepted the touch as something natural, almost expected.
Around them gathered several women of different races. Some bore features only barely human—elongated ears, small horns peeking through their hair, eyes with unusual pupils. No further detail was needed to understand their varied origins. Some stood close to him, attentive and calm. Others embraced him from behind, resting their bodies against his and encircling him with their arms without haste or uncertainty. None appeared forced to be there.
After a moment, the young man raised his gaze. His eyes turned toward the dome of the sky, to a point where space felt taut, as if something were about to manifest. His expression did not change, yet the stillness already ruling the place deepened, as though everyone present had understood, at the same instant, that the waiting was nearing its end.
When the young man fixed his gaze fully upon the celestial dome, space responded.
The vault contracted abruptly, as if seized from both sides by an invisible force. Then it shattered. It did not open with light or thunder, but with a dry collapse that revealed an impossible void—an absence that reflected nothing. From that emptiness descended tentacles of horrid appearance, long and twisted, covered in textures that followed no defined form. They did not move like flesh or like energy; they simply advanced, dragging themselves through from the other side of the裂.
A sensation of madness spread instantly. It was not ordinary fear, but direct pressure upon the mind. Several of the creatures tensed. Some heads jerked. Ancient eyes lost their focus for a heartbeat. The entire sky seemed tainted by that influence.
The young man, by contrast, smiled.
His calm expression twisted into something fiercer, more open, charged with anticipation. His scarlet eyes burned with intense light as he kept his gaze fixed on the void. The red-haired woman remained on his lap, unflinching, one arm still around his neck. He spoke without raising his voice, yet his words carried clearly through the entire expanse.
"At last you appear," he said, letting out a brief laugh. "Allow me to have a little fun."
As the rift continued to widen, spatial portals began to open at various points across the sky. No two were alike. Some unfolded as rigid circles of light; others tore open like stretched fabric. From one emerged valkyries in armor marked by use, followed by ranks of einherjar advancing in formation, weapons already at the ready. From another portal came demigod heroes alongside massive-bodied giants, descending with firm steps that filled the space with their presence alone. Farther away, from a dark, dense opening, rakshasas emerged with sharp gazes and relaxed stances, as if battle were familiar ground.
More portals appeared. More figures crossed through, each group taking position, adjusting weapons, spreading wings, or tensing muscles. No one attacked yet, but the intent was unmistakable. Confrontation was inevitable.
The young man watched it all for a moment. Then he rose. He stood with a simple, unhurried motion, lifting the red-haired woman with him and holding her with one arm, as though her weight posed no effort at all. She rested a hand on his shoulder, staying close.
He raised his eyes once more to the broken sky, the smile still on his face and his body already poised. There was no tension in his stance—only anticipation. To him, this was neither a threat nor an impending tragedy.
It was, once again, the beginning of another enjoyable fight.