The world had been burning long before Saotora Takeda opened his eyes.
Cities crumbled beneath the roar of jet fighters and orbital strikes. Seas boiled where missiles fell. The Third World War had no sides—only nations clawing for survival, alliances shifting like shadows.
And in the chaos, a boy was born.
No parents. No relatives. Only hunger and the distant thunder of bombs.
The slums of Tokyo became his cradle and his battlefield. Every scream in the night, every corpse in the gutter carved the truth into his bones: mercy was a luxury of the powerful. He learned to steal before he could write, to fight before he could read. By sixteen, he commanded the gangs that once preyed on him. By twenty, he united them into a single, ruthless machine—an underground empire that outmaneuvered governments and armies alike.
They called him many names.
But one echoed loudest across the fractured world: The Demon.
Under his shadow, black markets flourished, borders collapsed, and warlords knelt. He did not start the war, but he became its pulse—the blade that kept it alive. Nations hunted him. Children worshiped him. Even his enemies whispered his name with something like awe.
And then—he died.
A final battle. Betrayal. Blood on his hands. Nothing left to lose.
When the smoke cleared, the Demon was no more.
Or so Earth believed.
---
Darkness. Silence. Then the pull of a light that was not Heaven.
Saotora awoke beneath a sky he did not recognize, in a body too small for his rage. Horned monsters circled overhead, their hollow eyes gleaming. A new world stretched before him, alien and trembling—its air thick with magic, its soil heavy with fear.
Here, they had never heard of Earth's wars.
Here, the name "The Demon" meant little.
But the first time they saw what he could do—when armies crumbled and kings begged for mercy they did not receive—they gave him another name.
"The End."
It spread like fire across kingdoms and continents. Priests called him prophecy. Soldiers called him nightmare. Scholars wrote that when The End walks, empires fall. Mothers warned their children that even demons flee before him.
And Saotora Takeda—born of war, forged in chaos—looked upon this trembling world and felt no guilt, no mercy, only the cold clarity of purpose.
The world that killed his family had called him Demon.
This one would call him something greater.
And when his shadow finally swallowed its last sunrise, history would remember only one truth:
The Demon of Earth became "The End" of Another World.