The Goddess of Nature—Aisha.
The ruler of the cosmic domain where Earth resided. The deity whose mere whim could shape destinies, who stood above the laws of mortal existence.
And the fool who, in a careless mistake, had erased Dervin Valyron and his devoted maids from existence.
It had taken only an instant—a single miscalculation. A celestial body, an asteroid imbued with unnatural force, had descended upon his island, reducing it and everything within it to nothingness. An accident, she claimed. A simple error.
Now, in the vast grandeur of an exquisitely adorned divine chamber, Aisha reclined upon a lavish couch, her beauty otherworldly, her posture the epitome of effortless dominance. She inspected the six souls before her, her gaze distant, condescending—like a goddess gazing at mere insects.
Dervin.
Theresa.
Xanthe.
Khaelia.
Thalia.
Lyraea.
The ones whose lives had been stolen by her careless hand.
And yet, her expression held no sorrow, no regret—only mild amusement, as though their deaths were a trivial inconvenience.
She exhaled softly, the sound barely above a whisper, before speaking—her voice a melody of contradictions. Smooth yet commanding. Sweet yet filled with arrogance. A voice that dripped with power, one that Dervin recognized well—the kind of voice his maids used when addressing others, when they stood above the world in his name.
Never, however, had such a voice been used against him.
"What are you doing, you ants? Shouldn't you kneel before your Goddess?"
Then, a force—crushing, unseen, absolute.
The six of them collapsed to their knees, their bodies forced down by a power beyond comprehension.
Dervin's heart pounded violently, not in fear—but in fury. His blood boiled as he felt himself restrained, his body bowing before another for the first time in his existence.
Unacceptable.
His teeth clenched, his muscles strained, and he fought—fought with everything he had. His vision blurred, pain seared through him, but he pushed against the divine weight pressing down on him. Blood spilled from his lips, his body trembling with defiance.
"Human, don't push your luck."
Aisha's voice was light, dismissive, yet the force behind her words sent a pulse of energy crackling through the air.
"I've already killed you once. Don't make me do it again."
The room fell silent.
Dervin's maids froze. Their minds—so perfectly trained, so utterly devoted—fractured for the first time as her words registered.
She killed him once?
She killed Master?
Our Master was killed by her?
How dare she make Master kneel?
Unforgivable.
Their fingers curled, their gazes darkened, but not one of them spoke. They had been conditioned, shaped, broken and rebuilt in his image. They would not speak without permission. They would not act unless commanded. But their souls burned with the same fury as their Master's.
And yet, Dervin did not react.
He did not flinch at her words. He did not lash out. His mind was already calculating—processing, planning.
Aisha, unmoved, unimpressed, flicked her gaze over them as though bored with their defiance.
"As you have experienced, you were already on your way to Hell."
Her lips curled slightly, the faintest smirk touching her divine features.
"But since the six of you met your ends earlier than expected—due to an uncharacteristic mistake of mine—I am required to grant you each one wish.
"You will be reincarnated in one of the worlds under my dominion. Speak your desires, and be gone from my divine domain."
Her voice held no warmth. No interest. This was a chore, nothing more.
Dervin's gaze darkened.
His patience had worn thin. His rage smoldered beneath a carefully controlled exterior. But he would not act recklessly.
Not yet.
A wish.
One wish.
He could shape everything with a single desire.
And oh, how tempting it was to drag this arrogant Goddess from her throne and reduce her to what she truly deserved to be—his.
But Dervin was no fool. He would not waste his wish in haste. There was much to consider. Much to plan.
For now, he would bide his time. And when the moment was right—he would reclaim his place above all.
Dervin did not answer with his wish—not yet.
Instead, he spoke with a voice that challenged divinity itself.
Deep, commanding, laced with arrogance and confidence that rivaled even the Goddess before him.
"Before I make my wish, tell me—what kind of world am I going to? What rules govern it?"
The demand was bold. Unapologetic.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then, Aisha's emerald eyes gleamed.
Faintly. Subtly. A flicker of interest, one that Dervin—standing at a deliberate distance—could not see.
She had watched him.
Dervin Valyron.
Of all the mortals in earth's cosmo under her dominion, he was the one who had caught her attention the most.
Not only because of his ruthless intellect, nor his handsomeness that even deities would acknowledge.
But because he was unlike the others.
In a world ruled by wealth, power, and status, he had dominated it all.
He had turned the mighty into his subordinates.
He had forced the strong to kneel at his feet.
And even now, standing before her, stripped of his empire, reduced to nothing but a soul in her presence—he spoke to her as an equal.
Of course, Aisha would not let that go unchallenged.
She parted her lips, her tone as smooth as silk—yet laced with divine belittlement.
"A world of magic," she declared, her voice dripping with superiority. "Where magical prowess and talent rule above all else. A world far deadlier than the one you came from. A world where someone like you—might not even survive."
The words hung in the air. A challenge disguised as condescension.
And yet—Dervin smirked.
He absorbed her words, unshaken by her arrogance, unbothered by her attempt to belittle him.
Then, he spoke—his tone casual, yet absolute.
"I certainly am interested in this world you speak of..."
Aisha's expression remained unreadable.
"...But sadly, I won't be going there."
For the first time, her brow furrowed.
Her admiration twisted into irritation. Did this man—whom she had secretly found interesting—fear the world she offered?
How disappointing.
But before she could voice her displeasure, Dervin continued, his smirk widening.
"You see, Goddess, that's not the reason I asked. That world may be dangerous, but it belongs to someone else. And if I enter a world ruled by another being…"
His crimson eyes gleamed.
"Then I won't be its owner."
A pause.
Aisha's expression turned unreadable.
Dervin tilted his head slightly, his voice a melody of arrogance and certainty.
"You claimed you were required to grant us a wish."
"Which means this isn't of your own will. That can only mean one thing—even as a Goddess, you are bound by rules."
His voice deepened, slow and deliberate.
"And where there are rules, there are beings who created them."
Silence.
The divine chamber itself seemed to shudder under the weight of his words.
"That means there is a world beyond this—a world of Deities.
"That is where I should reincarnate."
Fascination flickered in Aisha's emerald eyes.
For a brief moment, she admired his mind, the way it dissected the unspoken truths of the cosmos with terrifying accuracy.
But she was also insulted by it.
This mortal—this man—dared to speak as though he belonged among the Gods.
Dared to think himself equal to Deities.
And unlike Dervin, who mastered his emotions, controlled his rage with cold precision—Aisha did not.
She snapped.
The divine air around them shattered.
The chamber trembled. A pulse of raw, unchecked divinity exploded from her form, suffocating, immense—a force that could obliterate existence itself.
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