"The world is unfair. Fate is unfair. Destiny is unfair."
Alfred drifted through the void, alone with his thoughts.
"Even you, my father… were not fair."
Behind him floated the planet Sovret—small, fragile, insignificant.
He owned millions of planets like this one. Richer planets. More beautiful planets. But on this one lived his son—all that he had left in the entire cosmos.
He would destroy universes to protect him.
Now, Alfred gazed forward into the emptiness. He saw nothing—no stars, no sun, no moon. Just the endless, suffocating black.
And if anyone from outside this forsaken system were to look, they wouldn't see the planet either. Alfred had hidden it from everyone's eyes—even his father's.
He had concealed it in the heart of a dead universe, a graveyard of existence where there was no life, no hope, no reason to search. Only countless black holes, shattered galaxies, and monstrosities that fed on decay.
There was no life in this universe.
Except on one small planet.
Alfred stared into the abyss—and glimpsed a flicker of red.
They're here.
BOOM!
The void erupted.
"ALFRED!"
A voice thundered across the dead cosmos—grating, gleeful, dripping with malice.
"I finally see you! How are you, Prince of the Dethroned Throne? Hahahaha!"
A demon materialized before him.
His skin was pitch black, burning with crimson flames that melted the space around him. Atop his head sat a red crown, pulsing with stolen power. His eyes gleamed with nothing but amusement—and a ravenous thirst for blood.
El-Maut.
The demon laughed again, spreading his arms wide in mock celebration.
"How long has it been since I saw you? Let me think… a cursed million years! And here you are—escaping death in the heart of death itself! Truly clever. You always were."
His grin widened, sharp teeth glinting like blades.
"Oh—and your brother sends his regards."
He leaned forward, voice dripping with venom.
"He wanted me to tell you… that the whore's body you chose over your family is still with him. He lets his demons wear her for fun."
Behind El-Maut stood three more demons—similar in form but smaller, their skin blood red instead of black. A female and two males. All watching Alfred with hungry eyes.
At that moment, Alfred exploded.
A silver aura erupted from his body, streaked with brilliant white and electric blue. The light tore through the dead universe like a newborn star—illuminating galaxies that had been dark for eons.
His white eyes burned with an intent to kill he had controlled for years.
His voice was calm. Dangerously calm.
"El-Maut."
He took one step forward.
"My dear brother's dog."
Another step.
"Where is he?"
His aura intensified, fracturing the fabric of space itself.
"How dare he send his dog to greet his older brother… without coming himself?"
El-Maut clutched his stomach, laughing so hard it looked like it hurt.
"I'm a dog? A dog? A DOG?"
He wiped a tear from his eye, grinning wickedly.
"Ah, I apologize. When I get excited, I can't control my tongue, Alfred."
His voice dropped to a venomous hiss.
"There is no dog here… except you."
He spread his arms wide, mocking.
"My master doesn't come to look after stray dogs. There is no one here but you and us."
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
"Oh—and by the way? The demons in the three continents surrounding your beloved continent are moving."
He laughed again, louder this time.
"What will you do now, traitor? Face me here—or protect your fake home?"
His grin turned savage.
"Choose quickly! There is no time, you traitorous dog! Hahahaha—"
Alfred moved.
Before El-Maut could finish his laugh, Alfred was already behind him.
His right hand had transformed into a white sword, gleaming with divine light. Black blood—thick, corrupted, wrong—dripped from its edge.
The three demons behind El-Maut collapsed.
Headless.
In Alfred's left hand were their hearts, still beating weakly. He glanced at them with disgust—then tossed them into the void like garbage.
The hearts shot through space faster than light, vanishing into the darkness.
Alfred leaned close to El-Maut's ear.
His voice was a whisper—soft, cold, absolute.
"Go."
He moved his blade.
El-Maut's left hand fell, severed cleanly at the wrist.
Alfred reached up, plucked the red crown from El-Maut's head—and crushed it into dust with his bare hand.
El-Maut SCREAMED.
The sound tore through the universe—a shriek so hideous, so filled with agony, that anyone who heard it would have wept from its sheer horror.
His crimson aura flickered. Dimmed. His body weakened instantly.
He looked into Alfred's white eyes—and saw the Void.
Infinite. Empty. Consuming.
He was so small within that Void. If he stared too long, he would be lost forever.
But Alfred spoke only one word.
Calm. Quiet.
Yet it echoed across every corner of the dead universe.
"Go."
El-Maut moved.
He tore through space itself, ripping rift after rift, leaping desperately from dimension to dimension until he finally escaped the grip of death.
He had to reach his master.
He had to tell him what happened.
It was a catastrophe.
Alfred stood alone in the void.
His clothes were pristine—not even a speck of dust. His silver hair fluttered like living silk in the cosmic wind. He wore a blue robe studded with jewels and white ribbons, standing tall, regal, untouchable.
An Emperor.
Fearing no one.
But he alone knew the truth.
His time was running out.
What he had borrowed was beginning to fade.
He had to hurry.
Alfred did not diminish his aura. It continued to blaze across the cosmos—a radiant beacon shining through the darkness, as if it were the last time he would ever shine.
Then, he turned.
He looked back at the planet behind him—small, fragile, precious.
His voice was soft.
"Forgive me, my son."
He closed his eyes.
"Your father must leave now."
He snapped his fingers.
The planet vanished—hidden once more in the folds of reality.
Alfred stood alone in the profound darkness of space.
Waiting.
For his destiny.