"Let's see…"
Shiro's voice was calm—almost playful—as he hovered within the formless void that existed between moments.
"I think… it is time, my dear."
A presence answered him instantly, warm and vast, layered with affection and unfathomable authority.
[I think so too. Existence shall know of your glory.]
"Humu."
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
Only inevitability.
"I want you to open a portal," Shiro continued, eyes half-lidded in thought, "above the battlefield where Veldora clashes with the Vampires."
[So… early in the war, before it turns truly catastrophic.]
"Correct."
A faint smile curved his lips.
"I'll descend in a Demi-Transformation. Wings fully manifested. Horn-crown visible."
He paused, amused.
"I suppose I'll add a Divine Halo behind me as well."
There was a brief silence.
[…drool]
"Athena?"
[H–Huh?! Ah—sorry, darling. You simply look… perfect.]
"Huhuhuhuhu…"
The sound echoed, soft and pleased.
"Now then," Shiro said, stepping forward as reality began to bend.
"Shall we begin?"
___________________________
{Central World}
Pain.
Fear.
Madness.
Suffering.
Insanity.
Despair.
Blood.
Death.
War.
Annihilation.
That was what the Tenma War meant to every living being who endured it.
A war where Heaven itself chose to erase the creations of its own Creator—fearing what they might one day become.
All except one.
Rudra—no, the reincarnation of Rudra—sat upon his throne, deep within a palace built from guilt and fading memories.
Once, he had been the First True Hero.
Once.
He reincarnated again and again, clinging to a rivalry born of friendship, promise, and tragedy—his eternal opposition to the first Demon Lord, the guardian of the world.
Each rebirth stripped something from him.
His will.
His clarity.
His power.
Until only one thing remained.
A gift.
A curse.
An Ultimate Skill granted by his sister's husband—the Creator himself, Veldanava.
Ultimate Skill: Justice King Michael.
Through it, Rudra possessed the sub-skill [Armageddon].
But the skill was never truly his.
It remembered its original master.
It longed for him.
And as Rudra weakened with every reincarnation, Michael grew.
It learned.
It judged.
It decided.
Thus, the Tenma War began—not as Rudra's will, but as Michael's attempt to resurrect its true master by reducing the world to obedient silence.
Even death offered no release.
For in this war, souls themselves were erased.
__________________________
{Guy Crimson}
"Tch… so this is how it ends, huh?"
Guy lounged lazily upon his ice throne, one leg draped over the armrest, crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
"What happened to you, Rudra…"
A grin split his face.
"Oh well. More souls for me. Not that I need them."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Mizary."
The Green Primordial—Vert herself—appeared instantly.
"Summon Ramiris and Milim," Guy ordered. "We're going to war."
"Understood."
No emotion. As always.
Guy sighed.
"She really should smile more," he muttered. "Especially when we're about to slaughter angels."
He leaned back.
"A million or so should be coming… hopefully more. Milim might wipe them out with a sneeze otherwise."
Then—
He froze.
"…Hm?"
The air trembled.
Energy began converging—wild, violent, untamed.
Storms folded into lightning. Lightning screamed into singularity.
Guy's grin widened.
"Ah. I see."
The world itself spoke.
{True Dragon: Storm Dragon Veldora has been born.}
"Hah! Knew it."
Then—
"…Ah."
Guy's amusement died instantly.
"That's… the Vampire Kingdom."
He stood.
"…No. No, no, no."
A pressure descended.
Not killing intent.
Authority.
Guy's knees buckled.
"…What… is this?"
Reality ordered him to kneel.
Space tore open.
"That shouldn't be possible…"
Something breached the Universal Barrier.
Guy's eyes widened.
"…What in hell is that?"
_____________________________
{Descent of the Absolute}
Above the Vampire Kingdom, space screamed.
A crack—a fracture—tore open, revealing galaxies collapsing like dust as something vast approached.
A Galactic Dragon, so immense that entire star systems vanished beneath its wings, shrank as it crossed dimensions.
Then—
It was replaced.
A draconic humanoid stood at the threshold between universes
.
Beautiful.
Majestic.
Those words were insults.
The Voice of the World attempted to respond.
[ERR—]
Silence.
Then—
[UNKNOWN EXISTENCE TAKING CONT—]
Cut.
[Ahhh~ Much better.]
Fear consumed the cosmos.
The Voice of the World—the perfect system of the strongest god—had been seized.
[You lowly ants.]
[HOW DARE YOU STAND BEFORE MY MASTER AND CREATOR.]
[KNEEL.]
They did.
Those who couldn't—
Ceased to exist.
Primordials bowed.
Seraphim bowed.
Demon Lords bowed.
Even Guy Crimson—furious, defiant—was forced to his knees, death brushing his throat.
[Will of the Void, introduce our Master.]
{Order Accepted.}
The universe itself spoke.
{Omni-Verse, kneel before your one True Ruler—}
{{Primordial Origin Dragon God: Azatoroth Zen'nō.}}
All of existence knelt.
All—
Except one.
An Outer God, ancient beyond comprehension, lowered its head in reverence.
Respect.
Silence followed.
Then pressure.
Uncontrolled.
Athena's dissatisfaction rippled outward.
All beings below the level of Cherubim died instantly.
Reality held its breath.
Shiro's voice echoed, calm and amused.
"Athena."
"Revive all that died. Let ordinary beings forget this day."
[Done. Anything for my love.]
"Huhuhuhu… thank you, darling."
He smiled.
"So this is how it feels…"
His wings unfurled.
Power settled.
"…Ah. I almost forgot."
And the war—
Had only just begun.