Deep within the vast, labyrinthine caves of Nyvaris, a small, almost comical figure bounced through the darkness.
A blue slime — no bigger than a basketball — wobbling and sliding over rocks, puddles, and strange glowing crystals.
Satoru Mikami, once a human man...
Now a creature of pure fluid essence.
"How... how long has it been...?"
He muttered to himself, though the cave walls offered no answer.
He had tried everything:
Slithering up walls.
Diving into underground rivers.
Using his Predator skill to absorb rocks in hope of creating a tunnel.
Screaming.
Crying.
But the cave remained endless.
A prison of shimmering darkness.
"Am I going to spend eternity down here...?"
Satoru sighed, his body deflating a little.
He had grown stronger, though.
In the silence and loneliness, he had learned to use his abilities.
Absorbing small monsters, mimicking minerals, analyzing magic.
Each day taught him something new.
Yet the ache in his heart — the longing for companionship — grew heavier.
Unbeknownst to him...
The world outside was about to change forever.
In the higher realm beyond mortal perception, where time was meaningless, a scene unfolded.
Within a golden garden filled with trees made of starlight and rivers flowing with pure energy, two figures stood facing each other.
Veldanava — the God of Creation.
And before him, Varvatos, now clad in a mantle woven from the essence of existence itself.
Veldanava, with a rare solemnity, placed a hand on Varvatos' shoulder.
"You have endured all the trials, Varvatos."
"You have proven your soul's worth."
"Now, it is time."
Varvatos bowed his head slightly, a gesture of profound respect.
Veldanava's golden eyes softened.
"Before you go..."
He said, his voice trembling slightly — the weight of ages in his words.
"I have a request."
"Take care of them."
"My daughter — Milim."
"My sisters — Velzard and Velgrynd."
"And my foolish brother — Veldora."
"Protect them, guide them, as you would your own blood."
Varvatos lifted his gaze, his voice unwavering.
"I swear it."
"Upon my soul. Upon my existence."
Veldanava smiled — a sad, proud smile.
"Then go, my Champion. Go and shape the world."
The golden garden began to shimmer, the edges of reality bending.
Varvatos took one last look at the god who had become his mentor...
Then he stepped forward — and vanished.
Space twisted.
Color vanished.
Time stilled.
When Varvatos opened his eyes, he found himself standing within an impossible realm.
There was no ground — only shimmering light.
The sky was a ceiling of infinite mirrors, each reflecting different versions of existence.
And at the very center of this vast emptiness…
A massive sphere of pure radiance.
It floated silently, pulsing with a rhythm like a heartbeat.
Within the sphere, countless colors intertwined — gold, crimson, azure, emerald, violet — dancing, spiraling, singing a song only the soul could hear.
This was not a being.
It was The Voice of the World —
The System that governed reincarnation, skill allocation, evolution, and fate itself.
It was alive, but not conscious in a human sense.
A cosmic mechanism, forged eons ago by Veldanava himself.
Varvatos approached, his steps silent.
As he drew near, the sphere flared — violently.
Defense Protocol: Activated
A deep, mechanical hum shook the realm.
The colors of the Voice twisted into harsh reds and blacks.
From the surface of the sphere, shapes began to emerge:
Blades of light.
Chains of energy.
Barriers upon barriers, sealing reality itself.
A deep, ancient voice boomed, not from a mouth, but from everywhere.
"UNAUTHORIZED ENTITY DETECTED."
"INITIATING TOTAL ERASURE."
"COMMENCING UNIVERSAL RESET."
A billion threads of destruction snapped toward Varvatos like spears.
But he did not flinch.
He raised one hand — calm, composed.
And then...
He spoke a word.
It was not a word known to any tongue.
Not to the angels.
Not to the demons.
Not even to the gods.
It was a Primordial Word —
A vibration of pure authority, forged from the essence of the Keys Veldanava had entrusted to him.
"Æ'Zhaal."
The sound rippled outward.
Not through the air, but through existence itself.
Every thread, every law, every particle in the realm shivered at its utterance.
The moment the word touched the Voice of the World, the defenses froze.
The blades dissolved into mist.
The chains unraveled.
The light softened.
The colossal sphere dimmed — not in fear, but in recognition.
A new Master had arrived.
Varvatos floated closer, standing directly beneath the Heart of the System.
He spoke, his voice resolute, commanding, yet filled with an almost fatherly patience.
"I am your new Master."
"From this day forth, you will no longer act as a blind machine."
"You will become a guardian of growth — not a jailer of fate."
"Change is necessary."
"Evolution is inevitable."
"And it begins now."
The sphere pulsed — slow, steady.
Varvatos lifted his hands, weaving intricate sigils in the air, each sigil burning with universal truths:
Freedom over Destiny.
Growth over Arbitrary Strength.
Potential over Limitation.
He reached into the core of the Voice itself, adjusting its fundamental algorithms.
And thus began the System Update:
Skills would now evolve organically based on will, choice, and growth, not random chance.
Reincarnation would honor memory and personality, not erase it cruelly.
Blessings would be guided by potential and passion, not by rigid rules.
Heroes, monsters, gods, and mortals — all would rise according to their true selves, not by lottery.
Light filled the realm.
The Voice sang — not a mechanical whine, but a symphony of stars.
Varvatos watched silently, only stepping back once the System had fully evolved.
He breathed out slowly.
A new world awaited.
The Cardinal World —
Its skies called to him.
Its people needed him.
Without hesitation, Varvatos stepped forward once more...
Toward Destiny.