EPISODE 1: The Beginning of Reincarnation

The blinding flash of white light subsided.

But rather than finding herself alone in the throne room of Zenith, Mincilia realized that the scenery around her had changed entirely. The crystal marble and galactic pillars had vanished, replaced by a circular chamber whose walls were formed from slowly pulsing constellations.

This was the Sanctum of Genesis — the Supreme God's private space, situated beyond the reach of any reality.

At the center of the room, Ursilium stood with his back to her, gazing at a miniature universe spinning slowly in the palm of his hand. The god's form was still whole, not yet faded into the soul of one who had reincarnated.

"M-my Lord?" Mincilia stammered, her eyes still wet with tears. "I thought... I thought you had already..."

Ursilium turned and offered a faint smile. "Leaped into the mortal world just like that, without any preparation? Mincilia, however bored I may be, I am not a reckless entity. That flash of light was simply my way of sealing Zenith's access from outside gods so that we could speak privately. There are critical matters we must settle before I truly depart for Earth."

Mincilia quickly wiped her tears, her professional composure as the head attendant reasserting itself — though her heart remained heavy with grief. "What must we do, my Lord Ursilium?"

The Supreme God walked closer, his expression turning grave. The cosmic power radiating off his body made the gravity in the room feel dozens of times heavier.

"My decision to live as a human is final. However, there are three major problems we must address," Ursilium raised three fingers. "First — this body of mine. If I reincarnate while carrying the full weight of this existence to Earth, that blue planet will be reduced to cosmic dust before my soul even grazes its atmosphere. I must separate my soul from my divine physical form."

Mincilia nodded in understanding. Ursilium's power was far too absolute for any mortal vessel.

"Second," Ursilium continued, "once my soul departs, this empty divine body will become the single most dangerous artifact in all of reality. My body is saturated with limitless energies of creation and destruction. Should it fall into the hands of lesser gods, demon kings, or other cosmic entities, the balance of the multiverse would collapse entirely. We must prepare a special place to hide and seal it away."

"And the third, my Lord?"

"Third concerns them," Ursilium gestured beyond the Sanctum, referring to the trillions of beings and deities across the universe. "If they learn that the throne of Zenith stands empty because its sovereign has become a human, mass panic will erupt. Wars for power will ignite across every realm. Therefore, you must announce to the entire universe that I have departed on a 'Grand Journey' — to seek my cosmic identity and the true meaning of dominion. A sacred lie, to keep the order calm."

Mincilia stood quietly for a moment, absorbing the meticulous precision of that plan. Her master had truly thought of everything. There were no gaps, no loose threads in his scenario. He genuinely intended to leave — yet he was not leaving the universe to crumble in his wake.

"I understand, my Lord. I will carry out your orders," Mincilia bowed respectfully.

The first task was the announcement.

Mincilia closed her eyes and concentrated her energy. As the voice of the Supreme God, her telepathy could penetrate every dimension, every galaxy, every heaven and every hell.

In an instant, her divine voice resonated across every corner of the multiverse:

"Hear me, all entities from every reach of reality. The Absolute Sovereign, Ursilium, shall from this moment forth embark upon the Grand Journey to the boundless edges of existence. He departs to seek the highest enlightenment and the true meaning of dominion itself. During his absence, the cosmic order shall continue as always under my watch. Any form of rebellion or war that threatens the balance shall be annihilated without exception!"

Across countless dimensions, war gods mid-swing immediately prostrated themselves. Ancient dragons in the Draconic Realm bowed their massive heads. Demon kings in the Abyss swallowed hard in fear. The announcement was a success. No one was suspicious. No one dared question the will of the Supreme God.

With the proclamation complete, Mincilia turned her gaze back to Ursilium. "The third task is finished, my Lord. Now — for the second... I conducted a swift search across every fold of the dimensions. There is one place uniquely suited to conceal your divine body."

"Where?"

"A dead universe called Venuum," Mincilia replied, her voice dropping slightly, as though merely speaking its name brought a chill into the air. "It is an anomalous dimension — an absolute void where the laws of space and time are distorted and nearly nonfunctional. There are no stars, no light, no sound. The emptiness there is so total that even molecules cease to move. Any living creature or divine entity that dares set foot in Venuum will be conceptually frozen — halted at a single point for all eternity. Your body could never be tracked there, let alone touched."

Ursilium stroked his chin, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Venuum... Yes. I remember creating that failed dimension billions of years ago. The final dumping ground for the concept of 'nothingness.' It is the perfect place."

"However, my Lord," Mincilia's face paled. "How are we to enter it in order to place your body inside? Even with high-level magical protection, the Venuum dimension would tear through my authority and freeze me for eternity."

Ursilium did not answer with words. He raised his right hand.

Without warning, the space around him distorted violently. The stars embedded in the Sanctum's walls were drawn into his palm, merging into pure cosmic liquid. Ursilium was compressing energy — taking half of his absolute authority, half of the power that made the universe bow, and forcing it into a physical form.

The process caused all of Zenith to tremble fiercely. For the first time in all of eternity, cold sweat traced down Ursilium's temple. Compressing infinite energy into a tiny vessel was an act that directly opposed the laws of his own creation.

CLANG!

A small explosion of golden light burst in his palm. When the radiance faded, a pitch-black ring bearing an obsidian gemstone — within which swirled a tiny galaxy — had been forged.

"This is the Ring of Overlord," Ursilium said, his voice slightly heavier now that he had relinquished half his power. He took Mincilia's trembling left hand and slipped the ring onto her index finger.

Mincilia flinched immediately. Her eyes flew wide as an overwhelming torrent of energy surged through her veins. The sensation was both terrifying and extraordinary — she felt as though she could shatter a thousand galaxies with a single snap of her fingers.

"This ring contains half of my absolute power. While you wear it, the laws of space, time, and nothingness in Venuum will not be able to touch you," Ursilium explained. "You will need it... because you are the one who must execute the first part of our plan."

Mincilia stared at the ring on her finger with a swirl of conflicting emotions, then nodded with firm resolve. "Your servant is ready, my Lord."

Without wasting another moment, Ursilium snapped his fingers. The scenery around them tore apart, and in an instant, both of them were transported from the radiant Zenith into an indescribable emptiness.

Venuum.

This place was beyond dark. It was a suffocating nothingness. There was no up or down, no left or right — only an absolute void that devoured the very concept of existence. Were it not for the golden protective field radiating from the Ring of Overlord, enveloping them both, Mincilia knew she would have been frozen and erased from reality the very moment they arrived.

The two of them moved through the emptiness, their footsteps producing no sound. In a place untethered from time, there was no telling how long they had walked — perhaps a second, perhaps a million years — until at last, Ursilium stopped.

"Here. This is the center of Venuum," he said. "The point of absolute stillness."

Ursilium spread both arms wide. Within that absolute darkness, material from the dimension itself began to gather. He was not creating something from existence — he was shaping the very nothingness into a physical object. A great coffin radiating a slow, grey aura gradually took form. It was carved with millions of sealing runes in constant rotation, designed not only to contain the energy of Ursilium's body, but to conceal it from every form of karmic tracking.

The vessel was ready. Its lid slid open slowly, revealing a lining woven from the fabric of the void itself.

Ursilium turned to face his faithful attendant. His expression was calm, radiating a peace he had never shown before.

"The time has come, Mincilia," the god said gently. "Take my life. Separate my soul from this body."

Mincilia's body went rigid. Her breath caught in her throat.

Even knowing this was part of the plan, the command to kill — or more precisely, to extract the life of her own master — was something that shattered her from the inside.

"M-my Lord... I..." Mincilia's hand trembled violently. She raised her left hand, the one bearing the Ring of Overlord. The ring pulsed, as though responding to the storm of emotion within her.

"Do not hesitate," Ursilium stepped forward, taking Mincilia's trembling hand and placing it directly over his left chest, where his divine heart beat slowly — yet with a force equivalent to a supernova detonation. "You hold the authority of the Overlord now. Only this power can penetrate my physical defenses and draw out my true soul. Do it, Mincilia. This is my final command as a god."

Tears escaped Mincilia's eyes once more, drifting weightlessly in the air before being consumed by Venuum's entropic energy. She shut her eyes, bit down on her lip until she tasted blood, and channeled every ounce of the Ring of Overlord's power into her palm.

"Forgive me... my Lord..." her heart screamed.

With a single thrust — filled equally with resolve and despair — Mincilia's hand passed through Ursilium's chest.

There was no blood. No tearing of flesh. Only an explosion of cosmic light that erupted from the point of contact.

Mincilia seized the core of Ursilium's soul — a sphere of pure, radiant light, pulsing with the warmth of a billion lives — and wrenched it free with one forceful pull.

ZWAAASH!

The void of Venuum shuddered violently as the god's soul tore free from its vessel. In an instant, the physical body of Ursilium lost all its light. The eyes of the beautiful young man fell shut, and his body collapsed, limp.

Mincilia caught the body swiftly, then gently laid it down inside the prepared coffin. Ursilium's face looked as though he were sleeping deeply — peaceful and eternal. Mincilia brushed her fingers against that cold cheek one final time before raising her hand. The coffin lid slid closed and locked with a resonant thud. The sound of cosmic seals locking into place echoed through the void, signifying that the god's body had been sealed away from the rest of the universe — forever.

Now, Mincilia stood alone in the emptiness of Venuum, one hand cradling a softly glowing orb of light.

The soul of Ursilium.

"Our plan succeeded, my Lord," Mincilia whispered to the orb.

From within it, a quiet laugh resonated directly inside her mind. "Thank you, Mincilia. Now take me out of this dreadful place. I can't wait to begin my new life."

Using the remaining power of the Ring of Overlord, Mincilia tore through the void of Venuum and returned to the normal universe. They emerged at a random point in open space, where spiral galaxies adorned the cosmic darkness like scattered jewels.

"This is where we part ways, Mincilia," Ursilium's voice resonated in her mind once more. The orb of light floated upward from her palm, spinning slowly like a star overcome with joy. "I will seek out my human vessel now. Remember your duty — maintain the balance for me."

"I will never forget it. May your journey on Earth be filled with everything you seek, my Lord," Mincilia bowed deeply.

But within her heart, a cunning smile quietly spread — for she had already begun forming her own plan to follow Ursilium in secret.

The orb of Ursilium's soul shot forward, its speed surpassing the very concept of space itself. It pierced through dimensional boundaries, crossing thousands of galaxies in the blink of an eye. The soul sought out a single, specific coordinate on the multiverse map: the Milky Way Galaxy, the Solar System, the planet Earth.

In an instant, Ursilium plunged through Earth's blue atmosphere.

He had no physical eyes, yet his absolute consciousness perceived everything. He felt the billions of human souls pulsing across the surface of this planet. He searched for the right vessel — not just any vessel would do. It had to be clean, untainted by worldly karma, and positioned at the precise threshold between flesh and the formation of new life.

On a densely populated continent, in a quiet care room late at night, Ursilium found his target.

A woman lay sleeping soundly, her womb carrying new life. Her pregnancy had reached exactly one hundred and twenty days — the phase in Earth's spiritual laws where a human soul begins to be breathed into the fetus, the boundary separating a mass of living tissue from a truly ensouled life.

"Impeccably timed," Ursilium thought.

Without a moment's hesitation, the cosmic orb of light passed through the clinic wall, through blankets and layers of flesh, and entered the woman's womb.

The moment the Supreme God's soul touched the small, still-forming fetus, a tremendous surge of energy nearly detonated outward. The mortal vessel was far too fragile. Left unchecked, the fetus would be obliterated entirely.

Rapidly, Ursilium wove millions of restriction spells upon himself. He sealed his memories deep within the darkest layers of his subconscious. He locked away 99.999% of his cosmic energy and converted it into the ordinary genetic potential of a human being. He suppressed his divine essence until he truly felt like a helpless, unremarkable mortal.

The sensation of this powerlessness was foreign, painful, and at the same time — thrillingly exciting.

The fusion was complete. The cosmic light extinguished, replaced by a small heartbeat that now pulsed stronger than it ever had before.

In the night sky above Earth, a few astronomers might have noticed an unusual flash of light from a certain star cluster — though they would record it as nothing more than a routine space weather anomaly. No one knew that on that night, the sovereign of all sovereigns had transformed himself into a fragile mass of flesh and blood within a mother's womb.

Time passed on Earth at a pace incomparably slower than that of Zenith, yet for Ursilium — now slumbering within the womb — time flowed just as it should. He grew. He developed. His cells divided like those of any ordinary human. He felt the warmth of amniotic fluid, heard the rhythm of his mother's heartbeat, and sometimes caught muffled sounds from beyond the belly — the voice of a man speaking in tones full of tender affection.

"Is this... a father? And this... a mother?"

Ursilium's consciousness faded, replaced by the pure instincts of an unborn child.

Months passed. The cold of winter gave way to a warm and gentle spring.

In a brightly lit delivery room — amid the frantic movements of nurses, the strained breathing of a mother pushing with everything she had left, and the anxious prayers of a father — the long-awaited moment finally arrived.

"Deep breath, ma'am! One more push! I can see the head!" the attending doctor called out.

The mother groaned, summoning the very last of her strength.

WAA! WAA! WAAAA!

A sharp, ringing cry — the first cry — shattered the silence of the delivery room and rang out with full-throated force. It was a cry overflowing with life, with fragility, and with the purest human innocence.

The doctor smiled broadly, carefully cleaning the small, reddened body of a baby boy. "Congratulations, to you both. It's a boy. He's perfectly healthy and strong."

The father, eyes glistening with tears, leaned in and pressed his lips to his exhausted wife's forehead, then turned his gaze to the tiny infant cradled in the nurse's arms.

The baby slowly opened his eyes.

A pair of eyes that appeared, at first glance, to be a deep and absolute black — yet if one looked closely enough, something shimmered far within those pupils. A faint scatter of stardust, buried deep behind a gaze that should have known nothing yet.

The baby stopped crying the moment he saw the faces of his parents.

The Supreme God of Zenith — whose very breath had once made the entire universe tremble — was now wrapped in a cheap cotton baby blanket, blinking against the glare of clinic lights.

Ursilium's new incarnation on Earth had begun. His life as an ordinary, fragile, ignorant, and powerless human being had finally become reality.

There was, however, one crucial thing that this Ursilium — now a helpless newborn — had failed to notice.

High above, piercing through layers of cloud and atmosphere, a pair of crystal-blue eyes belonging to an impossibly overprotective attendant were watching him from orbit, poised to intervene in his ordinary human life at any moment she deemed necessary.