The valley was drowned in darkness.
Thunder danced wildly across the heavens, and rain poured down as though the sky itself mourned the slaughter below.
Amid the storm stood a man—one against hundreds of thousands.
He fought like a god of war, his blade flashing crimson with every stroke.
Each swing carved death into the battlefield.
Every breath was followed by a scream, every step marked by the fall of another soldier.
No movement was wasted; no strike without purpose.
It was as if every motion whispered to the Reaper, "Another soul awaits you."
His eyes burned with savage fury—eyes of a beast that hunted not for survival, but for vengeance.
"Surrender, Dark Emperor!!"
"You are unworthy of life! A curse upon this world! You should never have been born! DIE!!"
Their shouts rose like a storm, but he only smiled—a smile twisted with both rage and pride.
The rain mixed with blood beneath his feet. The once-green land had turned into a red ocean.
Hundreds had fallen, and yet he remained—unbroken, unyielding, unstoppable.
"If I am unworthy," the Dark Emperor roared, his voice shaking the heavens,
"then none of you deserve to live either! DIE WITH YOUR KING!!"
The battle raged on.
Some claimed it lasted for days.
Others whispered it endured for weeks—perhaps even months.
But one truth echoed through history: the Dark Emperor fell.
He died standing, surrounded by corpses.
When his body was found, his right eye was gone, his left leg severed, his right arm missing, and a gaping wound tore through his chest.
Yet he was no hero.
His body was spat upon, kicked, trampled, and burned to ash.
And the historians wrote:
> "The disgraceful king who perished alongside hundreds of thousands of honored soldiers—remembered forever."
---
In an endless void, a lonely soul drifted aimlessly.
It knew not up or down, left or right—only the emptiness between time and space.
Then, the void cracked.
A rift opened, pulling the lost soul into its shattered depths.
It drifted through the fragments of reality until a light appeared at the end.
The light grew brighter—devouring the darkness—until both light and soul vanished into silence.
---
In a world where logic and magic intertwined, there stood a grand castle: Hogwarts.
Within its stone walls lived a boy—a quiet, withdrawn figure few ever noticed.
He sat at the back of every class, silent and unseen.
When lessons ended, he was always the first to leave.
During meals, he ate little, speaking to no one, before retreating to his dormitory.
His body grew frail, his eyes hollow.
He lived like a ghost among the living.
---
[In the Slytherin Dormitory]
The boy lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Why is my life like this?" he whispered. "My family... gone. And I'm all alone."
Then, without warning, the air before him cracked—like glass breaking in midair.
He jolted upright, heart pounding, as a small light burst from the fracture and shot straight into his chest.
Agony exploded through his body.
Every muscle swelled; every nerve screamed as if his very flesh were being torn apart.
And then—
A voice echoed in his mind, ancient and wrathful.
Voice: "DIE!! AND SURRENDER YOUR BODY TO YOUR KING!!"
He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
Pain consumed him. His consciousness blurred—his struggle faded.
Then silence.
And in that silence… something else awoke.
He opened his eyes.
Thunder roared outside. The storm raged harder.
Possessed Body: "THE KING HAS FINALLY RETURNED!!"
Rain lashed against the windows, lightning danced across the sky—celebrating the rebirth of power itself.
The boy—no, the Emperor—rose from the bed.
A stabbing pain pierced his head, sharp as a thousand needles.
Dark Emperor (DE): "AAHHHH!!"
His hair lengthened, falling past his back, streaks of white appearing like marks of divinity.
His eyes darkened, then turned crimson, naturally lined as if the abyss itself shaped them.
Only his body remained the same—a fragile vessel for a god reborn.
After two minutes, the pain faded.
DE: "Ha... Ha... Ha..."
He stood, glancing around the room until his gaze met a mirror.
He walked closer.
When he saw his reflection, he snarled.
DE: "A weak, pathetic body!"
His fist shattered the mirror—but before the shards touched the floor, threads of energy coiled around them, pulling them back together. The mirror reformed as if mocking him.
DE: "WHERE AM I?!"
The pain struck again—memories flooding in like waves of fire.
He fell to his knees, trembling, as foreign visions filled his mind.
He saw the boy's past. His loneliness. His world.
He saw a baby who had defeated a Dark Lord.
He saw the castle named Hogwarts—a school of magic and fools.
He laughed darkly.
DE: "What an amusing world… yet such idiocy. Mana—the essence of life—wielded through a stick? Pathetic!"
He turned to the table and lifted the wand lying there, studying it with contempt.
He focused his mana toward his eyes.
The colors of the world drained away—grey replaced all.
And before him floated tiny glowing particles, suspended like dust in time.
He peered into the wand and saw a faint light flickering within.
DE: "Hmm. You're not entirely worthless after all."
He snapped the wand in half.
The faint glow stretched into a single, thin strand—like a thread of light.
DE: "A dragon heartstring bound to worthless wood. What a waste."
He placed the broken wand before him and sat cross-legged atop the bed.
Closing his eyes, he spread his mana throughout his body, focusing it deep within his core.
The glowing particles in the air began to stir—drawn toward him like moths to flame.
They flowed into his body, merging with his mana, strengthening it with every heartbeat.
He purified his vessel, burning away impurities from within.
No foul sludge, no black residue—he annihilated the filth with pure mana circulation.
As the particles fused into him, his power grew faster, sharper, wilder—until finally, after twelve minutes, he opened his eyes.
DE: "Such a weak, filthy body... twelve minutes just to cleanse it all. At least I've reached the first stage of formation."
He stood and walked toward the door.
Opening it, he stepped into the hall, smirking.
DE: "This world... is foolish—but entertaining. Let's play for a while..."
He paused, eyes gleaming with crimson light.
> "Because the game has just begun."
---
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