The ascent into Heaven was blinding—literally. Charlie stepped through the portal with practiced ease, but Max winced as the divine light hit him like a truck full of holy LEDs. His suit shimmered, reacting strangely to the altitude of sanctity.
They walked down a pristine hallway of white-gold marble until they reached the central meeting chamber where Adam waited—feet on the table, food in hand, chaotic energy radiating off him like an overcaffeinated frat angel.
Adam squinted at Max.
"So, you brought a sinner up here. To Heaven. How'd you manage that?"
Charlie opened her mouth to explain—
But Adam immediately stood, the music cue practically audible.
"Oh no…" Max whispered. "Please don't—"
Too late.
Adam burst into his musical number—with choreography, backup angels, and enough smugness to suffocate a room. Max stood there, deadpan, while Charlie awkwardly clapped along out of politeness.
Of all the things I remember, Max thought miserably, I really hoped I'd skip the damn songs.
But something else was wrong. His two lifetimes' worth of memories were beginning to overlap—blurring timelines, making it hard to keep either one straight. His temples throbbed. Reality warped slightly around him.
Then he noticed the angels.
In Adam's shadow, several angels were quietly circling him, halos tilting with lethal intent. Swords of pure light drawn. They moved in unison—silent, trained, precise. Only a few angels knew Max wasn't actually a sinner, and these definitely weren't those ones.
The closest blade hovered inches from his spine—
And the world froze.
Adam stopped mid-lyric.
Charlie froze mid-breath.
The angels stopped mid-strike, locked in place like statues.
The air bent. A luminous figure descended, radiance shifting like a kaleidoscope of every color and none. A dozen wings unfolded, then folded, then split into forms impossible to fully understand.
Max felt a jolt of familiarity. A memory beneath memories.
"…God?" Max murmured. His form flickered—his true form threatening to surface—before he forced it down.
The being smiled gently.
"Hello, Max. Officially, it's been a long time for me. For you, it's only been a couple of days, hasn't it?"
Max swallowed hard.
"Y-You know?"
"Of course," God said, settling casually into a chair that materialized under him. "This entire timeline was altered without my permission. Normally, reincarnation administrators ask before inserting a soul and rewriting continuity."
Max's eye twitched.
He remembered the lazy celestial bureaucrat who reincarnated him saying he wanted to get fired.
This explained a lot.
"So," Max sighed, "you're here to delete me, fix the timeline, and reset everything."
He summoned the harem contract, intending to tear it. He didn't want something that wasn't truly earned.
But his hands wouldn't move.
God chuckled. "No, no. You misunderstand. Yes, I'm far more powerful than you—at the moment. And I could have erased your soul the second I found out. But I didn't."
Max blinked. "Why?"
"Because," God said simply, "I like the idea of having a brother."
Max froze.
God continued, "You aren't trying to rule Hell or overthrow Heaven. You're just trying to live. To love. You're engaged to my granddaughter, and regardless of the wish that brought you here, the love you feel is genuine. You've experienced it. You've earned it."
A scroll appeared between them.
"So," God said, "I have a deal for you."
Max stared. "A… deal? With God?"
"Don't sound so worried," God said, amused. "It's a good one. I'll give you what the administrators meant to give you—plus some of my own power—so that you and I are truly equals. Siblings in essence. I'll also create a fake contract for your Overlord status and an explanation for your powers."
He tapped Max lightly on the forehead.
"And I've removed your true identity from every mind in creation—except Bee, of course. She liked you the way you were."
Max exhaled shakily.
"So what do you want in return?"
"Nothing major," God said. "Just… don't overthrow Heaven, don't derail the major story beats too much. Adam and Vox are fair game; they ruin everything anyway. But let certain events happen."
He grinned suddenly, youthful and mischievous.
"And I want an invitation to the wedding. No exceptions. It's been far too long since I've attended a family event."
A pen materialized.
Max laughed breathlessly. "Fine. Yeah. I can do that."
He signed.
As the ink dried, God brightened.
"Perfect. Now—your gifts."
A swirling glass orb appeared in God's hands—colors rotating like galaxies trapped inside.
"The administrators asked me to deliver this. Also, the one who reincarnated you was successfully fired. His gifts came with… glitches. But since they weren't formally assigned, no one can revoke them."
He handed Max the orb.
"This contains the full powers of the 'Misfit of Demon King Academy' universe—every spell, every instinct, every absolute ability—infused with a fragment of my own eternal power. It is yours."
Max touched the orb.
Reality detonated.
Power flooded him—timelines, universes, infinite echoes. He felt himself stretch through history, through theoretical futures, through every version of himself that ever could be.
He gasped, grounding his mind back into one body.
"I… Jesus. This is my replacement? It feels incredible but—way too much."
"You'll adapt," God said warmly. "And here—your Overlord contract. It grants immunity to angel weapons, divine attacks, and Heavenly law. A perfect cover story."
He stood.
"I must go. Enjoy yourself, Max. And don't forget—wedding invitation. You know where to find me."
Light folded inward as God vanished—
—time snapped back into motion.
One of the frozen angels finally swung.
The blade pierced Max's back—
—and shattered instantly like glass against his skin.
Max straightened slowly as divine light broke across him like water.
He smiled.
"Alright," he murmured, eyes glowing with calm power.
"Now it's time."