A/N: I took a small break to heal from writing burn out and think what should be the future plot as its a crossover so thing are no longer conon.
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"The boy had enormous potential."
That was the first thought that flashed through my mind when Arata shattered the temple seal—an ancient structure that even my own servants could not break through without careful study or sacrifices. He passed through it effortlessly, as if destiny had favored him, even though he lacked knowledge of arcane languages or the barrier's nature.
Such a feat should have been impossible. Yet, there he stood, unfazed and oblivious to the enormity of his achievement.
"He wields Hamon, Ki, cursed energy… and now, after my little gift, mana."
Initially, I gave it to him out of curiosity, a fleeting impulse. But the moment our energies touched, something
clicked—something ancient. Dangerous.
He absorbed mana as if it coursed through his veins by divine decree. It reminded me of a time a thousand years ago, when I, too, walked the path of convergence—before the world fractured, before power had names.
Yet, even back then, I was nothing like him.
He's more than a prodigy.
He's something beyond human, a fusion of innate talent and undiscovered divine power.
Was it fate?
A cosmic jest?
Or a design from something—or someone—greater than me?
I've unequivocally abandoned the notion of coincidence long ago. In my long life, I've seen the threads of destiny pulled by unseen hands. And this boy... he may just be one of those threads, taut and burning.
"I shouldn't indulge in the paradox of free will and manipulation," I told myself, leaning against the obsidian balcony of my domain. "That's a labyrinth even I, with all my knowledge, cannot navigate."
Still… I've made my decision.
He is under my possession.
Not just as a weapon. Not merely a curiosity. Not even as a threat.
Mine.
And perhaps, if he proves interesting enough, to desire.
"How is he progressing?" I mused, conjuring a ripple of magical essence to observe the distant Association grounds. "It's barely been a few hours since my departure, yet I can imagine Arata's presence has already ignited a storm of reactions and whispers."
I smirked to myself.
He's probably clashed with someone important. Maybe even impressed a few. The association loves their hierarchy, but
Arata? He adamantly rejects their rules.
Much like me.
And yet…
There's a peculiar charm in witnessing his verbal sparring with the fiery-eyed priestess girl, a clash of wills and ideologies that sparks with intensity. Or that cold, silver-haired strategist who thinks she's three steps ahead of everyone—including me.
I can see it already: the heat of rivalry, the burn of attraction, the tension of unspoken truths and lingering glances.
Oh, they'll engage in a silent war of desires, each vying for his allegiance, their ambitions and affections colliding in a battle of wills.
But they won't win.
He'll come to me. Whether through awe, ambition… or desire.
After all, no one challenges the unyielding authority of Lilith, whose dominion transcends realms and time.
X—------X
With Arata POV
Black. Then white.
Then—nothing.
No breath. No heartbeat. No sense of up or down. Only a disembodied awareness, drifting in a blank expanse without edge or end.
This state was not death.
"What is this place and where am I? Show yourself who ever you are!" He demanded furiously.
The voice was not audible. It unfolded inside Arata's skull like a memory he had never owned. Cold, omnipresent, unblinking.
There was no body—just self. Suspended in a glowing abyss that pulsed like the breath of a sleeping god. The infinite void shimmered faintly, fragments of broken timelines drifting like shattered mirrors: flickers of Arata's past life—a monitor glowing in a grey cubicle, a rain-soaked city street, the dull scream of a collapsing lung.
His final moment.
And now—this.
A figure began to take form, not through movement or appearance, but through declaration. Silhouetted by sheer conceptual force. A being without texture or boundary, clad in robes of collapsed stars, its face a moving mask of galaxies, forever changing.
A god.
And he had been watching.
"…You intrigued me."
A soundless pause pressed against Arata's consciousness like gravity. It wasn't fear he felt—it was awe. Something ancient and unblinking had turned everything toward him.
Arata responded.
"...Why have you chosen me specifically for this? What sets me apart from others?"
"Because I delight in observing. In engineering variables. In testing the resilience of sentient minds under simulated divine constructs. You are statistically insignificant—yet mentally... volatile. That makes you ideal."
The void shimmered. A console unfolded beneath Arata's mind—like a glowing interface etched in ancient code. Glyphs spun in the air. A pulse of possibility surged through the emptiness.
"I offer you a proposal: transmigration. You will awaken in another world. Your soul re-housed. Your life... reprogrammed."
"With it, a system. A Growth Protocol. Imagine this world like a game—stats, skills, levels. A complete reinforcement engine tied to your being."
Numbers flared in the air, dancing like divine fire:
Arata watched, breathless. This was no simple reincarnation. It was an upgrade.
"I become... something more?"
"Yes. For a time. You will rise. You will conquer. The potential encoded into your new form will be immense. Enough to dominate the world's highest order."
"...And what price will I pay for this power? What will be demanded of me in return?"
The stars in the god's robe flickered. Silence fell.
"Once you reach a designated threshold of absolute power, I will remove the system."
Like a blade, the words cut.
Arata frowned. "You give me a divine cheat code... then rip it away the moment I developed?"
"Correct."
"Why?"
"To see what remains of you when the numbers fall away. When the scaffolding of supremacy is removed. When you are no longer chosen."
"Because that is where the story truly begins."
The void shifted.
Arata stared directly at the god now, his voice steady.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I erase you."
"You dissolve completely. Not just from memory, but from reality. You will never have existed. Not even the empty void will remember your soul."
One life of emptiness. A second opportunity with stipulations. Ascending to divinity, only to descend into raw mortality.
"...You're testing me."
"Correct."
"Like a lab rat in a world of fire."
"..."
His heart, or something like it, began to beat.
He was not afraid of hardship. He was afraid of waste. Of nonexistence. And more than anything, he wanted to matter.
Even if the gods played games—he would play to win.
"...Very well then, I shall accept your offer." Arata whispered, his voice dripping with resolute venom, his eyes blazing with determination. "I accept your offer. Grant me your system. Grant me power beyond measure. With it, I shall not just conquer but engulf the world in flames of my own making. And when you come to reclaim it—"
His eyes flared like molten steel.
"—I'll make sure you regret ever making me do your experiment."
The god's voice paused for the first time. Then, there was a soft, amused echo in response.
"Spoken like a true anomaly, a singular entity amidst the sea of ordinary souls. The process of transmigration has begun, heralding the start of your odyssey into uncharted realms."
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Present Arata
"Haaa haaaa haaa.Was that a dream?" Panting out loud and heavyly sweating I woke up forcefully. The strange dream made me uncomfortable.
"Oi keep you voice down let us sleep!" Kara Zor yelled annoyed clearly form the distrubance.