As breathing grew harder and my body went numb from shock, I found myself wishing—begging—for an end to war. An end to the needless murder. An end to the constant conflicts tearing the world apart.
My vision blurred.
Through the haze, I saw a man sitting on a chair in front of me.
I was too close to death to know if he was real or if my mind was breaking.
I finally closed my eyes and surrendered to the sweet, peaceful rest of death.
Then suddenly—I heard someone call my name.
I gasped awake, lying on the same floor where I'd died.
My fatal wound was gone. My body was whole. And I was utterly confused.
The old man was still sitting there. He smiled, genuinely pleased to see me awake.
"Zefar, you're finally awake. I've been waiting for you for a while. Can you believe it took a whole night to stitch you back together?"
My confusion snapped. "Wait—who are you? What even are you? And what do you mean 'stitch me back together'? Did you bring me back to life?"
The old man answered with an unsettling joy and eagerness.
"Oh, where are my manners? I am Adam—the Father of Humanity. Your forefather. And I came from Haven to see you, Son of Clara."
Hearing that my forefather was alive, came from a paradise called Haven, and descended to Earth just to see me…
It shocked me to the core.
I demanded a full explanation from this man who claimed to be Adam, the father of humanity. I needed proof he wasn't just some delusional old lunatic.
He began:
"In the beginning, before the world was made, there were three divine entities: the Creator, the Judge, and the Divine Light. The Creator made the world, and then He created man and woman and placed them in a paradise named Haven.
"That man was me, Adam. The woman was my beloved wife, Dawn. We lived with the Eternal Lights—beings created by the Creator to protect and guide humanity."
The Creator and the Judge eventually left the world, leaving the Divine Light to lead the Eternal Lights and teach humanity the difference between good and evil.
Among the Eternal Lights, two stood above the rest:
Sitan, the most loved of all creation,
and Mikael, the War Angel and Guardian of Haven.
Sitan was loved by everyone—even Nature itself. Nature loved him so deeply she made a covenant with one of my daughters, Gemima, to borrow her body and walk the world. Gemima agreed, wanting to share her life with Sitan as well.
Sitan loved Nature equally. When she asked him to give her a son, he used all his intelligence, influence, and power to create something new—something forbidden.
A child he and Nature named Arinthal.
Mikael was furious.
There was no written law against what Sitan had done, but Mikael and the Divine Light agreed—the child had to go.
They planned for Mikael to undo the creation of the Light Blood while someone distracted Sitan.
Sitan had made the child using the clay of man, the fruit juice of the Tree of Life, and his own Eternal essence—making Arinthal not only alive, but Eternal, and greater than any man or Eternal Light.
To Mikael, this was an abomination.
His armor and blade were forged from a new substance called Crystal Ash, capable of harming and killing even the invincible Light Blood.
The one chosen to distract Sitan was Lily, another daughter of Adam and Dawn, a shapeshifter. She shifted into Gemima to keep Sitan occupied.
But Sitan saw through the disguise instantly.
After interrogating Lily, he learned of the plan to kill his son.
He flew toward Mikael with a fury no one had ever seen.
He arrived just as Mikael was about to strike Arinthal.
Gemima—still carrying Nature's consciousness—threw herself between Mikael and the child.
She died instantly.
And Nature's consciousness shattered with her.
Something broke inside Sitan.
He unleashed a strength no Eternal Light was supposed to possess—
and he killed Mikael.
In the stunned silence that followed, Sitan declared that if anyone harmed his son again, Haven itself would fall by his hand.
Standing over Mikael's remains which were reduced to Crystal Ash,
Sitan radiated a terrifying new power, one capable of killing Eternal Lights.
He threatened all of Haven.
If his son was touched again, Haven would crumble.
These were bold claims… especially while the Divine Light, a member of the Holy Trio, still existed in the world.
Using me, Adam, as her vessel, the Divine Light manifested in Haven to confront Sitan.
"Oh Sitan…
You were the most beloved of all creation.
Heaven and Earth adored you.
How did love turn to hate?
How did hate turn to wrath?
You opened the door to a darkness the Creator buried before creation.
You let evil into yourself.
Now you have become one with the Abyss."
She opened the depths of the Abyss, and Sitan fell into his new prison.
He was gone—but not his stain.
He introduced murder into Haven.
He corrupted the hearts of men.
And he cursed the world:
No one would ever be allowed to harm his son.
Arinthal was raised by Adam and Dawn, in the desperate hope he would never become the next Sitan.
Time passed.
The Immortals multiplied.
Paradise became crowded.
The Divine Light declared that no more children could be born in Haven.
Those who refused left and descended to Earth.
They became the first Descendants. They spread across the world, seeking legends and dominion.
They never heard the cost of leaving Haven:
Every child a man had cut his lifespan in half.
The immortal sons of Dawn soon began to age.
As for the daughters of Adam—Death himself visited them during childbirth, asking if they would give their lives so their children could be free from death.
Most said no.
And thus death entered the human world.
Centuries passed.
Wars rose.
Kingdoms clashed.
Humanity drowned in conflict.
Not a single woman said "yes"—
until the mother of the child who would be called Zefar.
She gave her life so her son would never fear death.
Hearing this, I—Zefar—felt something shift inside me.
For the first time in my life, my anger… my self‑hate… my shame… began to fade.
My mother didn't die because of me.
She chose to give me life.
She gave me a gift no mother had ever dared to give.
I wasn't a Slayer.
I was a son who could never repay what she sacrificed.
Was I immortal?
Something Eternal?
Adam clarified:
"Your mother's sacrifice made you an Incarnate. Your body can perish, but your soul is tied to Earth. Death cannot claim you. You can roam in astral form and choose vessels—bodies whose souls have departed but whose flesh still lives."
I had questions, but Adam continued:
"Incarnates can inhabit these bodies, wear their faces, keep their memories, and live on as if nothing changed.
But someone like you can't roam the Earth purposefully without guidance. That's why I came—Haven has a mission for you, Zefar."
I asked why he assumed I would agree.
He answered:
"Didn't you just wish to end all wars and unite humanity? That was your dying wish. Now that you cannot die, you can make it reality."
He was right.
Knowing death could no longer stop me filled me with a strange zeal. I said:
"I can't do it alone."
Adam smiled.
"You're not alone. Heaven blesses you, and Haven stands with you. From today, you shall be called Victor, for you are destined to win."
I asked, "Can I keep Zefar? It's the only thing my mother left me."
"If that's your wish," Adam said softly, "you will be known as Victor Zefar."
It took me 999 years to unite humanity and bring peace.
I speak of it like it was yesterday—but those years were long, brutal, and unforgiving.
I died at least once every year. I gained loyal friends, brave soldiers, and traitors every decade.
Brute force failed.
Diplomacy failed.
Mercy failed.
Kindness failed.
I fell for traps, ambushes, and betrayals too many times to count.
Eventually, I learned:
Loyalty is stronger than friendship.
Fear is more effective than mercy.
Purpose is the cure to chaos.
I built the system of Builders, Muses, Sailors, Leaders—and the army that protected it.
By the end, my army numbered 9,900 Slayers.
Not all were born like me.
Some were loyal soldiers who died for my cause, and I called their souls back to fight again. These were the Summoned.
True Slayers were rare, and I preferred it that way.
I never wanted children to be motherless.
That wound never healed.
They once used "Slayer" to mock me—
but I turned it into a legend.
Only true Slayers could lay my Summoned to rest.
Only they could kill me and send all my Slayers to the grave with me.
Because of that burden, I adopted every true Slayer the moment they were born motherless.