Sebastian Wilfred adjusted the hem of his weathered poncho, the coarse fabric whispering against his tailored suit beneath. His boots—polished to a mirror shine despite years of travel—clicked against the marble floor as he moved toward the estate's grand doors. Another venture awaited. Another acquisition for the vault.
Then the air shifted.
A pressure like gathering storm clouds pressed against the manor's wards. Sebastian paused, one hand hovering above the door handle. His golden monocle glinted as he turned, sensing the familiar magical signature approaching.
Lord Ainz.
The butler sighed through his nose, fingers flexing once before falling back to his side. Plans could wait. Some visits demanded precedence.
He had just turned to call for tea when the double doors burst open in a swirl of dark energy. Ainz Ooal Gown stood framed in the entrance, his crimson gaze sweeping the room before settling on Sebastian. Behind him, Albedo hovered like a shadow given form, her wings twitching with barely restrained energy.
"Sebastian!" Ainz's voice boomed with its usual overlord bravado—then immediately deflated into something far more human. "Ah, sorry. Were you heading out?"
Sebastian bowed, the motion fluid despite his traveling gear. "Nothing that cannot wait, Lord Ainz. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Albedo stepped forward; her usual razor-edged demeanor softened at the edges. "We brought—"
A golden light exploded through the ceiling.
Sebastian had survived centuries of battle. Faced down dragons and demigods. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the pillar of radiance that sheared through solid stone like sunlight through fog. It encased him completely, lifting him bodily from the ground as his boots disintegrated into shimmering motes.
Ainz stumbled back, skeletal hands raised against the brilliance. "What the—? Sebastian!"
Albedo's wings flared as she lunged forward, only to rebound off an invisible barrier. "My lord! It's some kind of—"
"[Sebastian Wilfred, heed my call.]"
The voice rolled through the room like thunder given form. Ancient. Commanding. Unmistakable.
All movement ceased. Ainz's jaw dropped. Albedo froze mid-step. Even the floating dust motes seemed to hang suspended as realization struck.
Sebastian looked down at his dissolving legs—not with fear, but with dawning euphoria. Golden particles spiraled upward from his extremities, carrying with them fifty years of waiting.
"It appears," he murmured, voice thick with emotion, "my time has come."
Ainz's skeletal shoulders slumped. The overlord's next words came not as a ruler, but as a friend. "Hah... he's still alive. That's... good." The admission carried decades of unspoken worry.
The butler inclined his head as the light climbed past his waist. "Lord Ainz. When you next speak to Nazarick's denizens... tell them the Shadow Monarch remembers."
Albedo pressed a hand against the glowing barrier, her usual composure fractured. "Sebastian, you—"
"Serve him well, Albedo," Sebastian interrupted gently. "As I shall serve mine."
The doors crashed open a second time. Sebas Tian stood panting in the doorway, his usually immaculate uniform disheveled from haste. His eyes locked onto his brother floating in the golden column, understanding flashing across his features.
"Brother..."
Sebastian smiled—a rare, unguarded expression. He brought a fist to his chest in the salute of their order. "Live happy, Sebas. That is all I ask."
Tears glistened in the younger butler's eyes as he returned the gesture. "Journey well."
The light reached Sebastian's shoulders. Ainz stepped forward, red pinpricks burning brighter than usual. "Tell him... tell Sai I'm okay. That I'm... happy here." The undead king's voice cracked. "And that bastard better visit someday."
Sebastian's laughter mingled with the golden radiance. "I shall relay—"
The world dissolved.
One heartbeat he stood amidst friends, the next—
Cool air brushed his cheeks. The scent of aged paper and coffee replaced Baharuth's floral perfumes. His boots—whole once more—rested on polished hardwood instead of marble.
And 'that voice'.
"What's with the poncho and that long beard, my friend?"
Sebastian whirled. There, lounging in an armchair with familiar irreverence, legs crossed and chin propped on one hand—
His master.
The Shadow Overlord smirked. "Miss me?"
Sebastian Wilfred fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor, shoulders trembling. When he spoke, the word carried the weight of half a century:
"...Master."
Somewhere beyond the veil of worlds, in a garden where fireflies still danced above abandoned teacups, an undead king stared at the empty space where his friend had stood.
Albedo's whisper broke the silence. "My lord...?"
Ainz Ooal Gown tilted his skull toward the heavens, where new stars now glittered in unfamiliar constellations.
"He's alive and well, … Just like me," the overlord said simply.
And for the first time in fifty years, Nazarick's ruler allowed himself to relax, Ainz had been skeptic and wondering if Sai were even alive or simple dead, as the guy were barely alive back then. Hearing his voice just now really put Ainz at ease, knowing Sai were truthful in all his promise and words. Now he can finally move on.
The scent of bergamot and freshly brewed Earl Grey filled the office as Sebastian set down the porcelain teacup before me with practiced elegance. His movements were as precise as I remembered—each motion economical, each gesture carrying the weight of centuries of discipline.
"Take a seat, Sebastian," I said, gesturing to the armchair across from me.
He obeyed without hesitation, though his golden monocle caught the light as he studied me with barely concealed concern. "Your tea, my lord." He paused, then added quietly, "Though I must admit, seeing you in this... diminished state pains me."
I chuckled, lifting the cup to my lips. The warmth spread through my fingers, the familiar taste transporting me back to another world. "Sip~ hmm~ your tea and skills are still as I remembered, Sebastian." Setting the cup down, I met his gaze. "Sorry for not being able to call you much earlier. I arrived in this new life in rather... complicated circumstances."
Sebastian's expression remained neutral, but I saw the way his gloves tightened around his own cup. "My lord, what happened to you?" His voice was deceptively calm. "You appear younger, yes, but your body... it's as if you've been reforged in a crucible of suffering."
I leaned back, the leather couch creaking softly. Where to even begin?
"Well," I started, rubbing my temple, "if you must know..."
And so, I told him. Everything. The betrayal. The torture. Waking up amidst corpses, my body broken but my will unshaken. The months spent crawling through the underworld's filth, hunting those who'd wronged me. The blood, the vengeance, the slow, methodical rebuilding of my power.
Sebastian listened without interruption, his face an impassive mask. Only the slight tremble in his teacup betrayed his emotions.
"What a terrible world we are in," he murmured when I finished. "My lord, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
I waved him off. "Not your fault. Just unfortunate circumstances. Still, everything worked out in the end."
A comfortable silence settled between us. It struck me then—Sebastian's remarkable composure. The Sebastian I remembered would have already been halfway to decimating a city block in righteous fury.
"You're surprisingly calm," I noted.
His lips quirked into a small smile. "Fifty years have passed, my lord. I've had ample time to... adjust. And Lord Ainz taught me much about patience."
My cup froze halfway to my lips. "Wait... fifty years?"
"Indeed," Sebastian nodded. "Fifty years since your passing. Nine Own Goal became Ainz Oal Gown. Lord Momonga ascended as Overlord and..." He trailed off, a rare smirk playing at his lips. "Well, he rather embraced the role."
I couldn't help but laugh. "He really went all out with that world, huh?"
Images flashed through my mind—Momonga, our shy guildmate, now ruling an entire planet. Knowing him, he'd probably built a giant skeleton throne somewhere and made his NPCs call him "Supreme One" unironically.
Sebastian confirmed my suspicions. "He conquered the world within two years but refused to modernize it. Insisted on maintaining 'authentic medieval aesthetics.'"
"Typical," I snorted. "That guy romanticized the dark ages way too much."
As we talked, I discreetly analyzed Sebastian's energy signature. The numbers scrolling across my vision made my eyebrows rise.
Level 300.
He'd shattered the old level cap entirely. At this level, he could probably bench-press Mjolnir and slap the Hulk into next Tuesday.
Our conversation was interrupted when Sebastian's gaze shifted to my computer monitor. "My lord, who is this young lady observing us from within that glass enclosure?"
I followed his gaze to where Magina's digital avatar watched us silently, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Ah," I smiled. "That's Magina. My daughter."
Sebastian's monocle nearly fell off.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily as Sebastian processed this revelation. Outside, the city hummed with its usual chaos, unaware that two beings capable of leveling continents were sipping tea in a nondescript office.
"Greetings, Princess Magina,"
Magina's holographic form flickered as she waved shyly at the stunned butler. As for Magina her dreams is about to come true.