No gods, no demons, not even the stars.
After that final vow, EL simply vanished—like a shadow swallowed by twilight. The realms searched, scrying through dimensions, ripping open timelines, begging answers from fate itself. But none could find him. None dared to believe what the silence meant.
He was just… gone.
A thousand years passed.
And with time, came rot.
The multiverse, now leaderless in balance, fractured into endless empires of manipulation and fear. The divine court remained in ruins, its ashes a reminder only to those who remembered. But memory, like mortals, fades quickly.
Satan and Zeus rose from the void as twin pillars of tyranny.
Zeus, clad in false light, crowned himself the "Supreme Authority of Order."
Satan, wrapped in thorns and flame, became "The Eternal Will of Chaos."
Together, they declared the Era of Dominion.
And with no EL to oppose them, who could argue?
From every realm—Heaven, Hell, the Abyss, the Astral Forge, even forgotten pantheons—new gods emerged. Not born, but forged through faith, fear, war, and worship. Titans of will and divinity, rivaling even the ancient rulers.
To avoid another divine war, they made a silent pact.
"We shall not interfere with each other's realms."
"We shall rule from the shadows."
"And we shall control everything."
Mortals, believing they were free, were puppets dancing beneath invisible strings.
Worship was manipulated.
Empires were guided.
Fates were written before birth.
And slowly… the name "EL" faded from the tongues of men.
His tale became legend.
Then myth.
Then heresy.
Only a few monuments in dying worlds still bore his mark — a cloaked figure beneath stars, hands outstretched in sorrow. Only ancient gods and the oldest demons still remembered his voice. Even they began to wonder… had he ever truly existed?
Because if EL was alive…
Why had he not returned?
Why had he allowed such ruin?
Yet what none of them knew — not Zeus, not Satan, not even the gods of fate — was that EL had not died.
He had reincarnated.
Stripped of divinity.
Stripped of memory.
Stripped of power.
Born as a mortal… on Earth.
A planet forgotten by the gods, tucked away in a backwater galaxy.
A boy.
With black hair.
And crimson eyes like faded stars.
He was not born into royalty, or prophecy, or divine legacy.
His family was ordinary — a mother who cooked, a father who labored. No bloodline, no crest, no destiny etched in stone. Just a quiet house in a quiet town under a sky that had long forgotten divinity.
But from the moment he opened his eyes… the world shivered.
Machines around him glitched.
Crows gathered near his window.
A dying tree bloomed where he lay.
And for the briefest second, across realms, the ancient gods and demons paused — sensing something.
Something… irregular.
But it was gone as quickly as it came.
They dismissed it.
Another anomaly. Another freak mortal birth.
Nothing more.
And so, they continued their rule, blind to the truth:
EL had returned.
Not as a god.
Not as a balance.
But as a child — lost in a world that once begged for his mercy.
And this time…
He would grow among them.
He would live as one of them.
And when the time came… he would decide.
Whether to save this world…
Or end it.
He opened his eyes.
The world outside his window was silent—only the soft hum of crickets and the hush of wind brushing through the trees. But inside, his soul roared like a collapsing star.
He remembered everything.
Not in fragments.
Not in dreams.
Everything.
The divine court. The betrayal. The curse. The tears. The vow.
And the silence that followed.
EL—now reborn as Luv, a mortal child in an ordinary town—sat still, legs crossed, eyes closed. The moonlight painted silver lines across his skin as he examined his human vessel from the inside out.
"This body… is fragile," he whispered, voice laced with ancient calm. "Flesh and bone are not meant to hold divinity."
He could feel it—the truth of it. His power, dormant and coiled like a dragon beneath a paper shell. Even the smallest release would shatter this form and the world around it.
He had no choice.
He had to seal it. All of it.
With a breath, he reached inward. Into the endless ocean of power that was once his. The fire of stars. The silence of void. The laws of balance. The authority of all things.
He folded them.
Locked them.
Chained them within the deepest vault of his soul.
Seven seals of origin. Thirteen veils of memory. A curse within a curse.
And yet—power is not so easily silenced.
In the moment he sealed it… a ripple escaped.
A breath of godhood.
A crack of raw, unfathomable essence.
It surged through the Earth like lightning in still water. Then outward—past the atmosphere, past the solar gates, past the barriers of dimensions and divine realms.
Across all realities, they felt it.
Somewhere in the Astral Forge...
A golden forge god dropped his hammer. The fire died instantly. "Impossible..." he whispered.
In the Thrones of Heaven...
The Archangel Seraphael fell to his knees. "He's back…"
Beneath the Rivers of Hell...
The demon queen of rot awoke from her thousand-year slumber. Her first word: "EL."
In the Void Citadel...
Zeus sat upright, lightning snapping across his skin. "No," he muttered. "No, no, no—we killed him. We ended him!"
Satan appeared beside him in a flash of black flame, fury and fear etched into his burning face. "Then tell me… what did we just feel?"
Panic spread like plague.
Gods, demons, titans, devils, angels, elder spirits—they all felt it. A pressure that once silenced storms. A warmth that once unmade galaxies.
His power.
Even a fragment was enough to shake them.
And yet… none could trace it.
Fate was silent.
Time refused to answer.
The power had no anchor, no trail, no echo.
It was there, but it was nowhere.
It was him, but it was unreachable.
Zeus summoned the Primordial Oracles. Satan tore open the soul ledgers. The gods of death read every passing spirit. Still… nothing.
They only knew one thing:
"He has returned."
And with him… the potential for extinction.
A Decree Was Sent
To all dimensions. To all realms. To all planes of existence.
FIND HIM.
Search every world.
Search every bloodline.
Search every whisper in the wind.
From the kings of light to the crawling shadows, from cursed monks to forgotten spirits — the hunt began. Not for a god… but for a ghost who once wore the crown of balance.
And while the multiverse trembled, its rulers desperate to find him…
Luv sat beneath a tree in silence, watching the stars.
No fear in his eyes.
No doubt in his heart.
Only calm.
Because he knew.
He knew what they were doing.
He knew who was watching.
He even knew which demon had already sent a shadow into his school, disguised as a janitor.
He remembered every face.
Every betrayal.
He hadn't forgotten a single thing.
But this time… he would not act in haste.
This time… he would learn the world anew.
He would see what humanity had become.
And when the seals broke — one by one — the gods would finally understand:
It was never about power.
It was about the choice.