Earth had always been… different.
Not just in history, not just in myth—but in its bones.
Beneath its soil, its oceans, its shifting tectonic plates, there existed an immense natural energy that no other planet possessed. It wasn't raw mana. It wasn't divine essence. It was something older, denser—an inheritance.
Earth remembered.
It remembered gods walking openly under its skies.
It remembered successors inheriting mantles.
It remembered wars that never made it into mortal records.
Even now, long after the age of open divinity had ended, Earth's energy quietly fed awakenings, strengthened souls, and responded violently to intrusion. That was why portals reacted so strongly here. Why monsters evolved faster. Why humans adapted instead of breaking.
Earth was never a weak world.
It was a sleeping one.
Far beyond Earth 10, within the Palace of Twelve Shadows, Ashura sat upon the Throne of Black Light. The dominions revolved silently behind him, twelve realities breathing in rhythm with his existence.
Armageddon stood at his side, arms folded, lightning faintly crackling beneath his armor.
"My lord," Armageddon said, voice steady but cautious, "the portals on Earth are increasing. If left unchecked, they will destabilize the barrier left behind by the Nameless One. Do you intend to intervene?"
Ashura's fingers tapped once against the armrest of the throne.
Then he stood.
The palace responded immediately—pillars humming, shadows stretching, dominions aligning as if reality itself straightened its posture.
"I've been thinking about Earth for a while now," Ashura said calmly. "And if you truly look at it… Earth has always been a centerpoint."
He turned slightly, black light tracing his silhouette.
"Even back in my era, gods walked that planet freely. Successors were born there. Conflicts that shaped entire cosmologies started there."
His eyes narrowed, thoughtful rather than hostile.
"Earth has always revolved around powerful beings—long before me."
Armageddon remained silent, listening.
"I won't interfere," Ashura continued. "Not yet. My children will handle this."
Armageddon's gaze sharpened. "You intend for this to be a trial?"
"A stepping stone," Ashura corrected, a faint smile forming. "Luciferus and Serenity will grow from this. Earth will harden them."
Armageddon hesitated, then spoke again.
"It is the work of the Absolute Beings. They believe that since the Nameless One is gone—and the All-Denying Father is dead—that Earth is unclaimed. They are using portals as their opening move."
He paused.
"And my lord… those portals are feeding Earth's natural energy. The barrier left by the Nameless One is weakening."
Ashura laughed.
Not loudly—but deeply.
"They think the Nameless One is dead?"
He turned fully toward Armageddon now, black light quietly intensifying.
"I am the Nameless One," Ashura said evenly.
"The Nameless One is I."
The throne hall trembled—not from force, but from recognition.
"I am the Eternal One.
I am the Sovereign of Black Light."
Ashura raised one hand.
Black light expanded outward—not violently, not destructively—but with absolute authority. It crossed universes. Slipped between cosmological layers. Touched realms that did not belong to him.
Including theirs.
In a realm far removed from Ashura's dominion, the Absolute Beings froze.
A presence brushed against their reality.
Not invading.
Not attacking.
Just… acknowledging.
"What… is that power?" one Absolute whispered.
Another stiffened. "It's not hostile. But it's… immeasurable."
A third spoke slowly. "He knows where we are."
Silence followed.
"I've heard rumors," one finally said. "Across multiple universes. About a man they call… the Eternal One."
That name landed heavily.
"The Sovereign of Black Light," another added. "Ashura."
The chamber went deathly quiet.
Then one Absolute being frowned. "Is he related to the Nameless One?"
That question struck harder than any attack.
If true… then their plans around Earth were meaningless.
"He hasn't moved," someone muttered. "He isn't on Earth 10. He knows where we are, yet he does nothing. Why?"
Eyes slowly turned toward the leader of the Absolute Beings.
He had remained seated the entire time.
Watching.
Interested.
The leader closed his eyes—and probed.
In the Palace of Twelve Shadows, Ashura felt it immediately.
A foreign will brushing against his existence.
He smiled.
The Absolute leader's vision collapsed instantly.
All he saw was a shadow—not darkness, not void, but a presence so deep that no structure, no identity, no law could define it.
Nothing else.
No aura.
No form.
No weakness.
The leader's lips curved upward.
"…Interesting."
He opened his eyes and stood.
"Send word to the Sovereigns," he commanded. "Any who bring me information about the Eternal One—I will personally make them my successor."
The chamber erupted.
But it ended just as quickly.
The leader released his aura.
Reality buckled.
All but three Absolute Beings slammed to the ground, unable to breathe, unable to resist the pressure.
"Any decision I make," the leader said coldly, "is final. Don't let me hear your nonsense again."
The pressure vanished.
The three who had remained standing—the strongest among them—smiled.
Without a word, they turned and left.
The game had begun.
And far away, seated upon a throne that ruled twelve dominions, Ashura simply watched… amused.
"Come," he murmured softly.
"Try."