Rain hammered the roof in a relentless drum, sheets of water racing down the windows until the world outside blurred into trembling streaks of silver. Thunder rolled through the neighborhood, shaking the streetlamps and rattling the gutters.
A black sedan tore around the corner, its headlights slicing through the storm. Tires hissed against the soaked pavement as the car skidded into the driveway, splashing through a spreading puddle. The driver flung the door open before the engine even finished shutting off.
He sprinted toward the house, keys slipping in his trembling fingers.
"Come on, come on" he muttered, breath fogging in the cold air.
When the front door finally swung open, his entire body went still.
His wife lay collapsed on the living-room floor, one hand pressed to her swollen belly, the other bracing against the hardwood. Water puddled beneath her not from the storm, but from her breaking waters.
"God !" He rushed to her side, kneeling in the spreading pool, rainwater dripping from his clothes. "Come on, hurry up! We have to get to the hospital!"
But her grip locked around his arm, nails digging into his sleeve.
"No…" she gasped, voice raw with pain. "We won't make it. He's coming now."
Thunder cracked again this time gold instead of white flashing across the curtains as if the sky itself had split open. The storm roared, swallowing her cries as he lifted her carefully and set her on the couch.
The air thickened with fear, with urgency, with something else neither of them could name. Lightning flickered faster. Wind howled through the chimney. Every shadow in the room seemed to tighten and watch.
Minutes stretched into a torturous eternity. She screamed, breath hitching, sweat glistening on her forehead as he whispered encouragements through clenched teeth.
Then finally finally the child emerged into the world, slick with blood and rain-damp air.
And the baby did not cry.
The man cradled the newborn carefully, his hands trembling, still wet from rain and fear. He passed the tiny child into his wife's waiting arms. Exhausted, pale, and shaking, the two leaned close together, gazing down at the silent infant who had entered the world without a single cry.
"What should we call him?" the husband whispered, brushing his thumb along the baby's cheek.
The mother breathed weakly, but her voice was full of warmth.
"…Let's call him… David."
He smiled faintly. "David. I like that name."
Their smiles were soft, hopeful utterly unaware of the storm brewing inside the child they held.
For within the newborn's mind, thoughts churned far too ancient, far too furious, to belong to something so small.
I still struggle to believe he dared to do this to me.
My own father… Adamus.
My own mother… Kiyohime.
They severed my strength.
Tore the divinity from my being.
Cast me out of Heaven as if I were some unworthy fragment of dust.
All because I unraveled a few hyperverses…
because I carved order into the Omniverse…
because I commanded chaos itself with a steadier hand than any of them.
I acted with purpose.
With precision.
I did what needed to be done.
And for that, he exiled me.
For all their centuries of wisdom, my father remains blind.
How absurd.
Now look at me.
Helpless.
Defenseless.
Just a baby trapped in human flesh.
His golden eyes snapped open brilliant, furious, judging as he glared at the couple holding him so tenderly.
So these are the fools chosen to raise me?
They think they can name me "David"?
He tried to speak, rage boiling through nerves not yet ready to obey him. Tiny lips moved, forming broken fragments of words that crackled with meaning even in their weakness.
"What is it, David?" the mother asked gently, leaning closer.
"…Ava… lo… kita…" he strained. Ancient syllables tore against an infant throat. Only one piece survived the collapse.
"…Ava… Ava…" he repeated, again and again, desperate to hold onto even a shard of his true name.
The husband blinked. "Did he just…?"
The mother smiled softly. "Maybe that's what we should call him. Ava."
They held him tighter, pressing him to their hearts as thunder rumbled outside, unaware of the storm they had just invited into their lives.
Inside the newborn's mind, fury curled like a serpent.
Let me go.
I am Avalokita
the Shinma of Chaos.
It had been years since that stormy night.
Sixteen now, Ava stood at the threshold of his home, the one he'd grown up in as a mortal child. Rain had just stopped outside, the scent of wet pavement drifting through the open door as he slipped off his shoes.
"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad," he called casually.
His mother peeked out from the kitchen, smiling. "Welcome home, Ava. Dinner's almost ready."
His father nodded from behind the newspaper. "Don't stay up too late. Big day tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know," Ava said with a faint grin, heading upstairs.
He closed his bedroom door quietly, leaning against it for a moment. His eyes drifted to the basketball resting beside his desk. Slowly, he picked it up and placed it on the floor in front of him, backing away to give himself space.
His heart began to pound.
"All right," he whispered. "It's been years. My powers have to come back by now."
He lifted his hand, fingers trembling with expectation.
"Omnipresence… Telekinesis…"
The ball didn't budge.
Ava's jaw tightened. He pushed harder, voice cracking with frustration.
"Come on. Move!"
Nothing.
He shut his eyes, looking up at the ceiling as a tremor ran through him.
"Father… is this what you wanted? For me to be powerless? Weak? Do you think I'm going to beg for forgiveness?"
Pain twisted deep in his chest.
And that's when the screaming started.
Ava froze. Shouts echoed through the house a man yelling, the sharp crack of a demand.
"Get on the floor! Where's the safe?! Where's the safe?!"
His mother's terrified cry cut through him like a blade.
Ava opened his bedroom door a fraction and listened. The voices grew louder. More frantic. More violent.
Silently, he crept down the stairs, each step a dull echo under his feet. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs.
When he reached the bottom, he saw them his new parents on the floor, shaking, hands over their heads. Four masked men with guns crowded around them, their shouts filling the room.
One of the intruders spotted Ava at the staircase and jerked his gun toward him.
"Get down here, now!"
"No, please!" his mother screamed. "Leave him alone! Please, just"
Another robber snarled and pistol-whipped her. She fell to the floor with a groan.
"Shut up!" the robber snapped.
Ava's father surged upward in a burst of fury, punching one robber square in the jaw. Another masked man swung the butt of his gun, cracking it against his skull. Ava's father collapsed, limp.
The gunman stepped forward, raising his weapon, finger tightening on the trigger
And then the air changed.
A low hum rippled through the living room. The lights flickered. Every shadow stretched unnaturally. The temperature plummeted.
The robbers froze, hands flying to their throats as invisible pressure crushed them. They gagged, wheezed, clawed at empty air. One by one, their feet lifted off the ground as if an unseen giant had seized them by the neck.
Ava stood at the foot of the stairs, tears streaking down his face, his arm raised, fingers curled like talons.
A shimmering black halo spun into existence above his head silent, ominous, crowned with two sharp horns jutting from the dark ring.
"Omnipresence Telekinesis…" he whispered, voice trembling.
Then it hardened.
"No one hurts my family," Ava growled.
His eyes burned with gold and black flame.
"No one."
"Ava… how are you doing this?" his bruised mother cried, staring at him in horror.
Ava didn't hear her.
His gaze locked onto the struggling men suspended in the air.
"They deserve death," he hissed. "People who hurt my loved ones deserve nothing but death."
And he clenched his fist.
One robber detonated blood and bone exploding across the wall.
Another burst seconds later, screaming right before he popped like a rotten fruit.
"Ava, STOP!" his mother screamed, voice cracking.
But Ava shook his head slowly, tears and rage burning together.
"I won't," he snarled. "They chose this. They chose to die."
He flicked his wrist.
BOOM
A third robber exploded.
BOOM
A fourth followed, painting the ceiling with red.
"Ava PLEASE!" his mother sobbed.
For a moment, Ava's shaking hand hovered, tendons trembling, power spiraling violently through the room until finally, with a strangled gasp, he dropped his arm.
The last remaining robbers crashed to the floor, unconscious and drenched in the blood of the others.
Ava stood trembling, chest heaving, halo crackling with fading dark light.
His mother stumbled toward him, ignoring the chaos around them. She grabbed him, pulling him into her arms, her tears falling onto his face.
"Ava… Ava, sweetheart… are you okay?"
He exhaled, trembling. "Yes… I'm okay, Mom," he said softly, as the demonic halo above his head flickered once, then vanished into the air.
"You have powers," she whispered, stunned. "How? None of us have powers."
"It's… a long story," Ava said, his golden eyes dimming. "One day I'll tell you everything."
She hugged him tightly. "I'm just glad you're safe."
They rushed to his father, still groggy but alive, as the sound of sirens drew closer.
That night, as police arrested the surviving robbers, Ava sat alone in his room. His fingers flexed and curled, moving the basketball slightly with each twitch.
"Interesting," he murmured to himself. "My powers are coming back. The sooner, the better. Then I can leave this reality and go home."
The door creaked open. His parents entered, faces pale. His father sat down on the edge of the bed. "Ava… because of what you did tonight… there's something we have to tell you."
His mother's voice trembled. "I'm sure you've noticed. Some of your friends with powers have already gone through this. Everyone with powers must enroll in the Dark Lord's Academy. If they're good enough… they're drafted into his army. It's the law. If we don't comply…" Her voice broke, a sob caught in her throat.
Her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know it's not fair. The Dark Lord's laws stretch across every hyperverse he controls. We've seen what happens to those who disobey they're tortured for eternity. But it's also an honor to fight for the Dark Lord, to protect our half of the Hyperverse from the other gods."
Ava tilted his head, hiding his smirk. Perfect, he thought. His golden eyes glimmered faintly. My powers are returning… and now I have a place to train.
"It's fine, Mother. Father. I don't mind," he said aloud. "I'll start packing my things."
His new parents both hugged him tightly, whispering their fears, then left his room.
Inside, Ava's thoughts spiraled like storm winds.
So… Father really sent me here.
Sixteen years living as a human.
Sixteen years watching, learning, pretending.
Sixteen years trapped in flesh, listening to whispers about this so-called Dark Lord… never realizing why the stories felt familiar.
He looked toward the window, toward the heavy, shadow-drenched sky.
Now it's obvious.
Now that my powers are returning… I can finally sense it.
A cold truth settled into him like a blade.
This isn't the true Omniverse.
He didn't reincarnate me there.
No
This place pulsed with darkness. With exile. With forgotten gods.
This is the Shadow Omniverse.
The cast-off reflection.
The realm where every dark fragment my father purged was thrown away.
Where fallen deities and banished monsters hid from the light.
This is where he sent me.
His own son.
Ava let out a slow breath, jaw tightening.
"Compassion," he whispered bitterly.
"He calls himself the God of Compassion… and he treats me the same way he treats his enemies."
All of this… because i destroyed a few hyperverses?
Because I imposed order?
Because I commanded chaos with perfection?
They deserved it.
I acted with purpose.
And he punished me anyway.
His eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in the darkness.
Who cares?
I don't want his Omniverse.
He can keep it.
A slow, dangerous grin spread across his lips.
"When I reclaim my full power," he murmured, "I'll take this Shadow Omniverse for myself."
His aura crackled.
"I'll topple the Dark Lord they worship."
A spark flared behind his eyes.
"I'll crush him… and remind everyone why they once trembled before the name Avalokita, Shinma of Chaos."
His voice fell into a cold whisper.
"And I will earn my father's respect."