In the highest strata of existence—far above mortal skies, above celestial realms, above the weave of time—there floated the God Realm.
Endless stretches of luminous starlight hung like floating rivers. Celestial constructs rotated in slow spirals, inscribed with runes that shaped destinies of entire constellations. Beings made of cosmic radiance moved about like strands of living nebulae, each attending to affairs spanning galaxies.
It was into this place—a domain no mortal soul should normally touch—that the soul of Emperor Josh Aratat suddenly appeared, spiraling upward in a column of light.
His arrival sent a ripple across the cosmic floor.
A dozen starlight entities turned.
One of them—its body shaped like a tall humanoid silhouette, yet made entirely of constellations—paused and then spoke in a voice that sounded like vibrating space:
"An anomaly… A mortal soul has appeared unbound. Fetch the Higher God of Retribution—A'Nui. Quickly."
A lesser god—small, comet-like—shot across the realm, leaving a bright streak in its wake.
Moments later, the light around the chamber dimmed… then brightened… then stilled.
A presence appeared.
A'Nui, Higher God of Retribution, stepped forth. His figure shimmered like an ocean of galaxies wrapped in a cloak of judgment. His eyes were two burning stars, and when he inhaled, the entire realm inhaled with him.
He approached Josh, whose spirit stood upright—confused, disoriented, yet dignified even in death.
A'Nui regarded him with a solemn nod.
"Josh Aratat," the god said, his voice resonating through the bones of the realm itself, "you stand here because your life was taken unjustly. Because the balance of fate itself deemed you worthy."
Josh blinked, still absorbing the impossible surroundings.
A'Nui continued.
"I witnessed your final breath. I witnessed treachery. But gods cannot interfere directly in the affairs of mortals. That law is older than time."
He raised a hand, and a vision formed beside them…
Josh's death replayed—Aloysius' betrayal… the blade… Lola's scream… the phantom farewell.
Josh slowly closed his eyes, pain flickering across his spirit.
"But," A'Nui said, lowering his hand, "the cosmos allows exceptions when injustices rupture the divine order. So you are granted a choice."
The god lifted two fingers, and two radiant paths unfurled before Josh like star-lit roads.
"Option One," A'Nui said.
"You may descend again into the mortal world—by occupying the soul of the unborn child in your wife's womb."
Josh inhaled sharply. The thought alone staggered him.
"You would return to your people from birth. Grow among them. And when the time is right, together you can infiltrate and fight to reclaim your empire from within. Your soul is strong enough to merge with the child's forming vessel without it being destroyed in the process or destroying the latter, whilst entering it."
"Option Two," A'Nui continued, gesturing to the second path.
"You may be reborn elsewhere—another land, another culture, another time. You would eventually cross paths with your people again. Your destiny would twist its way back, but from a different origin."
A'Nui stepped back, allowing the weight of the decision to rest heavily between them.
"And note this, Josh Aratat:
Should you return"—he pointed to the first path—"you will be reborn with the rare ability to practice the Kingly System. By age two, you will regain all strength up to the realm you possessed before losing your powers."
Josh's spirit flickered with shock.
That level of power so soon? That alone could shake the future.
"But," A'Nui said, his tone deepening, "you must never reveal the truth of this cosmic anomaly. Not to your wife. Not to your generals. Not even to your closest companions. A mortal mind exposed to such divine mechanics would shatter."
Josh looked down, processing the weight of everything.
His voice, when it came, was quiet—almost fragile.
"You want me," he said slowly, "to return… as my wife's child?"
"It is one path," A'Nui confirmed.
Josh let out a breath he didn't know he had.
The thought was absurd. Unnatural. Terrifying.
To be raised by the woman he loves…
To call his generals "uncle" instead of "comrade"…
To grow up knowing all their fates…
To watch Lola grieve him, while carrying him…
He swallowed.
"But that path," A'Nui added softly, "is also the only one that brings you back to protect them immediately. The path that leads most directly to vengeance."
Josh raised his head…
Eyes burning with a mixture of pain, confusion, longing, and fury.
Before him, the two divine paths pulsed gently.
A'Nui's voice echoed one final time:
"So, Emperor Josh Aratat…
What is your choice?"
Josh looked on in confusion, contemplation and consideration. He wondered how funny it sounds to return and be given birth to by his own wife.
Josh stared at A'Nui, his thoughts spiralling in disbelief, and an ache so sharp it felt as though even his soul could bleed.
The idea alone… to return to the world through the body of his own wife? To be cradled as an infant by the very woman he once held as his equal? It felt absurd. Twisted. Unreal.
But he had to ask.
"What of the soul of my son?" Josh finally forced out, voice trembling. "Wouldn't… wouldn't he be crushed if I take his body?"
A'Nui's radiant expression dimmed with pity.
"As of this moment," the higher god said softly, "what lies in your wife's womb is not a living child. It is a still shell. A corpse."
The words stabbed deeper than Aloysius' blade had.
"The baby died from the blow Aloysius struck at her womb. He intended it as the final cruelty—to make you watch your wife lose both you and your unborn child in the same breath. Your surrender merely prevented him from boasting about it."
Josh felt his knees weaken, though he no longer had a physical form to stand upon. His soul flickered, heavy with grief. His son… his long-awaited son… gone before he even took a breath.
A'Nui continued gently, "So option one does no harm to any living soul. Instead, it spares your wife the unbearable torment of seeing both husband and child die within the same week. It gives her hope. And it gives you a path back."
Josh swallowed hard, even though he no longer had a throat. Grief, rage, duty, love—everything warred inside him before finally settling into a single unshakable resolve.
He lifted his gaze. "I choose the first path."
A'Nui nodded in approval, his celestial aura flaring brighter.
"Then so be it. You shall return. But be warned: your memory will be blank for the first year of your new life. By your second year, everything will return—your memories, your identity, and your cultivation. You will regain your former strength, though you must hide it well."
His tone sharpened with divine authority.
"You must appear powerless until you come of age. Hide your truth even from your wife and your loyal followers—remember—knowledge of cosmic matters can shatter mortal minds. And lastly…" A'Nui's voice thundered slightly, "…you MUST never entertain romantic feelings for the woman who is now your mother. Even if she was once your wife. Such an abomination would incur the wrath of the gods themselves. Are we clear?"
Josh opened his mouth to respond, but his soul dissolved into shimmering dust before a word could escape. He became a streak of divine light, shooting downward—plunging through realms and atmospheres until—
—he slipped silently into the womb of the unsuspecting Lola, merging with the lifeless child as a spark of spiritual rebirth.
---
Outside, under the dark sweep of night, Amber Nois—the great Archmage—felt the world shiver.
She paused mid-incantation, eyes narrowing.
Something had shifted. Something vast. A ripple in the threads of fate itself.
But the sensation vanished before she could grasp it.
Amber exhaled, steadying herself, and returned to weaving protective runes around the area. The air thrummed with her power, glowing faintly beneath the starlight. Nearby, exhausted soldiers and wounded students slept under her barrier, unaware that destiny had just bent itself around them.
And inside the womb of the grieving Empress…
A new heartbeat flickered to life.
A heartbeat carrying an emperor's will.
A father's grief.
A warrior's vengeance.
And the spark of a storm the world was not ready for.