The police came for interrogation for three days, but Devon already knew exactly what to say.
First off, he had to change his tone to sound like he was traumatized by what happened.
"I don't really remember what happened, but I think they were robbers."
"Why do you think that?" the man asked gently, the female investigator standing still in the corner of the room.
"Because he kept telling my dad, 'Give me the money, I know you have it.'"
"Did you perhaps see his face?"
"No, I did not. I was coming home after buying a pack of smokes for my dad, and I heard them arguing. When I got in, I saw my dad lying there on the couch."
"Can you describe his face?"
"It was dark, and when I saw him, he smashed my head with something heavy."
Devon started crying. "I don't remember. I want to, but I don't. I'm sorry. I really am."
"It's fine. It's not your fault."
Devon was finally removed from the suspect list after three days, but he had a feeling they would be back. He had to make it seem like a robbery or a personal grudge to avoid being put in custody "for his protection" or watched 24/7. He needed to act freely, and that would be impossible under surveillance.
A week passed after the incident. Devon was finally on his feet and back in school — Mavis High. Apparently, the original Devon had just gotten into high school. Devon, in his past life, never got that far. Perhaps this was another change caused by him going back in time.
Devon's mom gave him some money — four dollars — meant to last the week. It was small, but in his past life, he'd never even seen a hundred-dollar note.
He got to class early. Students were already chatting, laughing, forming their social circles.
"Heyyy! The name's Raphael. This your first day, right?"
Devon had the urge to walk away but decided to stay a bit longer.
"What's your name?" Raphael asked.
"Devon."
"Nice to meet you, Devon."
"Sure," Devon said, then left, not wasting any more time.
He couldn't care less. To him, every single human was like an ant — their lives even more worthless. He sat toward the edge of the class, pushing his chair a bit backward.
Everyone looked at him.
"Who the hell is this weirdo?"
"What's he doing?"
"Does he think he's better than us?"
"His parents are probably rich or something."
Conversations like that spread quickly, and everyone started despising him on his first day.
Devon ignored them and sank into his thoughts.
November 2nd… if I'm correct. Do I have enough time? With the changes I made, could it still be November 2nd? What if it skipped a year because of me? Last time, it happened as an accident. Making it look real is harder than it might seem…
"Hello?"
A hand waved in front of his face.
"Hey! You there?"
Devon blinked and turned. A girl with short blue hair was smiling softly at him.
"What?" he said flatly.
"Nothing really," she said with a small laugh. "I just saw you sitting far away from the others and thought I should introduce myself. Hi — my name's Sophia."
"What do you want? And how do you know my name?"
"I heard it when you said it earlier. It's a nice name…"
"Do you mind? I wanna be left alone."
"Bam!"
"Who do you think you are, acting like you own the world just because your parents are rich? Don't look down on us!" Raphael cut in angrily.
"Raph, that's enough," Sophia said quickly, trying to hold him back.
"I can't stand people like him…"
Everyone in class turned toward the argument.
"Ahh, I see," Devon said, standing up. He was a little shorter in stature but still imposing nonetheless.
"Why am I looking down on you? I look down on you because you're below me — each and every one of you. Do you think you're special? Just because you got here? Is that the lie your parents told you so you won't realize how useless you are? Wake up to reality. If every single one of you died, the school would cover it up to protect their image, pay your parents, and you'd all be forgotten.
The next time you come close to me without my permission, I'll show you how truly insignificant you are."
Devon sat back down.
Everyone was speechless. The words they heard — could they really come from one of their classmates?
"How rich could he be, to look down on us this much?" someone whispered.
Whispers erupted around the room. Raphael and Sophia stood frozen.
"Didn't you hear me?" Devon said in a low voice. "Leave my face. Now."
...
Three figures hovered high above the sky, gazing down at a vast city below. It wasn't Earth—this place shimmered with molten gold and veins of precious stones, stretching endlessly like a kingdom carved from light itself.
The three figures were Seythar and the two gods who had stood beside him in the council: Erebus, god of shadows, and Kaelzar, god of beasts.
Erebus drifted forward, his voice low as he glanced at Seythar.
"What are we going to do about Fariel? He definitely killed your son—to spite you."
"Don't make false accusations, Erebus."
"…Apologies." Erebus bowed his head slightly. "But it doesn't change the fact he's been acting uncontrollably ever since Fate made him its spokesperson."
"We need to stop him before he goes too far," Kaelzar added, claws flexing with unease.
"Fariel is a fundamental piece in my plan. We shall do nothing."
"But—"
"Is that understood?" Seythar's gaze hardened. Both gods fell silent.
"I have somewhere I need to be. We'll speak later."
And with a flicker of light, Seythar vanished.
---
Back in his classroom, A girl accompanied by the teacher just walked in.
Devon stood frozen, staring at the girl beside the teacher. Blonde hair, golden eyes, skin that caught the fluorescent lights like polished glass—her presence made the boys in the room straighten unconsciously, drawn in as if a goddess had walked into a mortal space.
Feeling their stares, the girl stepped behind the teacher, trying to hide her discomfort. The air in the room felt tight, full of whispers and shifting chairs.
"Everyone, settle down," the teacher snapped.
Devon remained standing, eyes locked on her.
Confusion rippled across the class.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Is he okay?"
"He's staring at something…"
"Hey, you—I said settle down!" the teacher barked.
But Devon didn't hear him. He walked straight to the front, brushing past the teacher as if he didn't exist. He reached the girl, gently taking her hand, his breath trembling.
"What's your name?" he asked, eyes searching hers. Tears slid down his cheeks. "It's you… isn't it?"
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered. "You've got the wrong person."
"Impossible. Young or old, I can't mistake you. I know you… even from your hands alone."
The teacher stormed forward, ready to grab him—until Devon's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Touch me, and I'll break you in ways this world hasn't even invented yet."
He turned his head slightly, eyes gleaming with a cold, blood-lusting aura that didn't belong to a teenager.
The teacher froze, heart skipping.
Why was I scared of a kid? A moment ago, he didn't feel like a kid at all… it felt like I was standing before a deity.
Still, duty pushed him on. He grabbed Devon by the collar and dragged him to the principal.
Devon received only a strict warning—it was his first day, after all. When he finally returned to class, he forced himself to stay calm. As shaken as he was, he couldn't afford to lose control. Not now. Not before November 2nd. His plan depended on it.
And she hadn't recognized him.
That was good.
He wanted to fix things, and she was one of the people he had sworn—no matter what—to make things right with.