People say that when one dies, their soul either goes to heaven or hell. But the truth is—they're going nowhere.
All souls are sent to an empty void, falling into eternal slumber. Although every soul ends up in the same place, a few exceptional ones remain conscious. They are tormented by the emptiness, where time doesn't exist.
A fate worse than death—being trapped in a place where the only source of light comes from the souls that sleep in eternal slumber.
Every once in a while, a space turbulence occurs, opening a portal and dropping countless souls into this accursed place. Among the souls sent here, the conscious ones are extremely rare—like one in a million. Even when they awaken, souls rarely interact with one another. Everyone will try to explore the void rather than discuss life.
Now, a new situation has arrived. Among the souls that were in deep slumber, one of them is showing signs of awakening. But that is not normal at all—because all the conscious souls know they were sent here already with their memories intact, while the others were in deep slumber from the beginning. They had never seen a case where the sleeping soul gradually regained their consciousness.
Three awakened souls have gathered around this soon-to-awaken soul. None of them remembers how long it's been since they were sent to this cursed place. Now, they are forced to converse with one another.
It's a bit awkward, as they all stand still, staring at each other for a while. A little girl looks around momentarily before deciding to start the conversation, breaking the silence.
Nanami was the first to break the silence. "My name is Nanami Yasuri. Nice to meet you all." Her voice was light, almost cheerful—an odd contrast to the void that surrounded them. Slender and small, she had long, dark green hair streaked with pink cherry blossom markings, and wide purple eyes that shimmered faintly like amethysts. She glanced between the giant and the elf, waiting.
The giant smiled back gently, his voice deep but soft.
"Heracles." Just the name—spoken like it should be enough.
He couldn't help but steal a few glances.
Nanami reminded him of Illya—too much.
He stood over two and a half meters tall, a towering figure carved like a divine statue.
From every fibre of his being, life force poured out in waves—so pure, it felt like it could heal the void itself.
The elf gave a small, courteous bow.
"You all can call me Licht. The pleasure is mine."
He had an ethereal grace—tall, slender, with pale skin and golden eyes that gleamed with quiet intelligence. His white hair was pulled into a single braid down his back.
No time was wasted. Licht's voice shifted suddenly, serious.
"I think we can all feel it. That fear, deep in our souls... just from looking at this one."
He didn't gesture. He didn't need to. They all knew which soul he meant.
Heracles chuckled. "So straightforward. I like you."
Licht gave a faint smile in return, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Nanami's expression turned sombre.
"This soul... it might be the end of all of us," she said softly. Then, almost wistfully:
"But... I feel strangely relieved. Maybe true death is better than drifting in this cursed void where time doesn't exist."
Hearing this, the giant and the elf glance at each other, realising they share the same sentiment.
"I think we both agree with you," Heracles says. "But this void is just too vast. There might be other awakened souls hiding, waiting to make a move on this poor soul."
What Heracles said makes a lot of sense. Although awakened souls are rare, the void is massive.
Not to mention, none of them were sent here at the same time. There could be other entities lurking in the dark.
"I think we should temporarily work together," Licht proposes. "At worst, it's just death. We have nothing to lose. In the meantime, we can share our life stories to pass the time."
Hearing this, Nanami lightly shakes her head. "Any existence that could kill this soul might be able to kill all of us as well. Either way, we can wait and see for now. Sharing our stories to pass the time doesn't sound too bad, though. So, who wants to start?"
The other two quickly agree—having someone to talk to is better than wandering this endless void alone. As they begin sharing their life stories, the awakening soul is about to fully awaken.
At the final moment, all three turn their focus to the awakening figure.
The soul shines brightly, taking the shape of a human youth in his twenties, standing at 1.85 meters, slightly taller than the elf. Just as the three onlookers start to move closer, a massive dragon head suddenly appears behind the awakening soul.
The ferocious dragon, with four cross-shaped pupils and clad in silver armour, bites down instantly, swallowing the poor soul in a flash.
The three onlookers are stunned beyond words. Who would have thought a dragon existed here?
Not only that, it seemed to possess an overwhelming stealth ability. None of them sensed its presence. Licking its lips, the dragon eyes them like they're dessert.
But then, the situation changes.
The dragon's body begins to shine, illuminating the dark void with blinding light.
In a split second, the four-eyed dragon vanishes. In its place, once again stands the same young soul it had just swallowed.
The onlookers stood frozen in disbelief. Against all odds, the soul had turned the tables, devouring the dragon instead.
It hovered in the air for a moment, then let out a small, satisfied burp. Turning slowly toward them, and said:
"My name is Enso, and I am here to eat."
...
Enso had been conscious this whole time, ever since his soul began to glow and was nourished by the chaos of this endless void. Yet, he couldn't move until his awakening was complete.
He wasn't a hero or a legendary figure—just a man from Earth. What set him apart was an unyielding will to live, forged from the bitterness of dying young.
In his past life, Enso was a gifted martial artist. He trained in multiple disciplines and stood out among the best. But talent alone couldn't save him from fate—advanced heart failure stole his future.
Though he guided rising champions and shaped others, he never stood in the spotlight himself. He often daydreamed of miracles, like finding Dragon Balls to wish away his affliction. At his core, though, he only wanted to live—to stand at the peak of the martial world.
Perhaps it was that desperate desire that drew Chaos to him, transforming him from just another flickering light in the void to an awakened soul.
When his awakening was completed, hunger surged through him, wild and primal. He realised: he could devour the other lights in this void to fuel his power. It was an instinct, primal yet certain.
But before he could act, the Tyrant Dragon struck first, swallowing him whole.
Rage surged as the beast's jaws closed around him. But then… something changed. The Tyrant Dragon's essence began to dissolve into him.
In that moment, he realised: he wasn't the prey. He was the devourer.
Enso turned his gaze toward the three remaining awakened souls, his voice calm but absolute.
"Your time has come. Your suffering ends here. Any last words?"
They exchanged glances, a quiet understanding passing between them. They knew it—this newly awakened soul was the end of them all.
Nanami and Heracles had no regrets; they'd made peace with death. Licht, however, wasn't so fortunate. He'd found Tetia's soul here, dim and lifeless—just another fading light in the dark. Consciousness lost. No goodbyes left to say.
To them, Enso was Death.
The three bowed their heads, speaking in unison:
"You may begin."
Enso opened his mouth and inhaled.
Souls surged toward him like a tide obeying gravity. He devoured them instinctively—each one stoking his hunger and swelling his power. In moments, his soul grew vast, vast as a planet.
But in the silence, he sensed another presence. Faint. Dim. Just slightly brighter than the unconscious souls, but aware.
It was her. The Doctor from Akudama Drive—a genius surgeon whose godlike skills couldn't save her from being trampled by the crowd.
Before he could reflect, her memories, along with those of the others, rushed into him—a tidal wave of voices, images, and feelings. Not his, yet now part of him.
For a moment… Enso forgot who he was.
Heracles' war cries echoed in his head. Licht's sorrow burned through his heart. The Doctor's cold, dispassionate thoughts whispered harsh truths.
Each soul clawed at his identity, threatening to drown him in their fractured reflections.
Then, like a bolt of lightning in the void, comes clarity.
"My name is Enso. I must live," he whispered.
The chaos quieted. His soul began to adapt to the sea of new memories.
Alone in the dark, Enso shone brighter than ever.
After absorbing nearly a billion souls, his strength reached staggering heights. Yet one truth remained: this void held only a fraction of Earth's dead. There had to be other voids.
And maybe… others like him.
From the memories he absorbed, Enso learned of a Spatial Portal—a gateway that opened periodically, drawing in more souls.
Heracles had attempted to leave through it once. The moment he touched the threshold, a dual lightning strike—white and black—slammed into him. The white lightning tested his vitality. The black one nearly erased him.
Entry was easy. Escape was nearly impossible.
The Tyrant Dragon had witnessed this and, desperate for power, began devouring unconscious souls. But it never worked. He couldn't assimilate them. They remained fragmented, stagnant energy—useless.
Enso now had his answer—the Spatial Portal was his only chance to escape. So, he meditated in silence, sorting through the spoils of the awakened souls he had consumed.
From Nanami Yasuri, he gained Migeiko—an ability to instantly copy and perfect any movement or skill he witnessed.
With Heracles' soul, Enso inherited raw vitality, his spirit crackling with primal energy, and battle instincts honed through endless conflict. Among these was Nine Lives, a legendary combat technique forged by war.
The Doctor's soul, however, brought something darker. Her medical knowledge was so advanced that she could heal catastrophic injuries. But she could embrace pain, to find euphoria in her suffering, which disturbed Enso most. Her tolerance for agony surpassed even Heracles' berserk state.
From Licht, Enso gained Sword Origin. It sharpened his very being—his presence, his energy, his intent. Bladed weapons now felt natural to him, comprehension effortless.
And from the Tyrant Dragon's soul, he gained Superior Adaptation, Invisibility, and memories of when it was sealed within Incursio.
More than any of these abilities, however, was the growing understanding of his true nature as a Soul Devourer. He wasn't just a soul-eater. He was a nemesis to all soul-based powers.
Then, with his newfound clarity, came one more ability—Life Reading. A perfect recall of every memory, every soul fragment, stored with absolute precision. Once he regained his sense of self amidst the storm of conflicting memories, it unlocked.
With Life Reading, he could recall his memories and those of the awakened souls he absorbed, but only if their consciousness remained intact. The lightbulbs he consumed only provided raw soul energy.
He remained still. The abyss held no secrets—he had already seen its darkness through the eyes of others.
Each awakened soul carried a weakness—something they were born with. But those flaws didn't survive the transfer. Enso believed it was due to Tyrant's innate ability: Superior Adaptation.
Every imperfection stripped away. Every contradiction harmonised. What remained was the essence—abilities distilled to their highest potential, instincts honed beyond their original form.
He was their perfected culmination.
And for the first time in a long time…
He felt hope.