Ethan drifted in an endless void.
No ground. No sky. No sound. Only stillness—absolute and suffocating.
The darkness wasn't just the absence of light—it was the absence of everything. A space where existence itself seemed to have unraveled.
Then it struck him—like a bolt of lightning cracking through the fog of oblivion.
"I… I remember everything now," he whispered, eyes widening as memory surged into him with startling clarity.
A voice followed.
It didn't echo in the air—there was no air to carry it. It reverberated in his soul, deeper than sound could ever reach. Ethereal. Ageless and Overwhelmingly powerful.
> "Welcome back, Ethan."
His breath caught. His eyes darted through the black. There was no source, no figure, just a vast presence bearing down on him from every direction.
"Wh-who are you?" he asked, voice fragile against the infinite dark.
The voice answered slowly, its tone both ancient and unmeasurable.
> "I am a forgotten soul—one that existed before existence itself. I bore witness when time still slumbered, when light had yet to be born.
I watched stars ignite and die like flickers of breath, listened to the dreams of dead gods, and drifted through the thoughts of slumbering titans. I have seen the first heartbeat of creation... and the last sigh of annihilation."
Ethan stood frozen, awestruck. What is this being...? Is it some kind of god?
> "I am no god," the voice replied, as if the thought had been spoken aloud. "Merely… an overseer."
Ethan's chest tightened. "So… you can read my mind?"
> "Not your mind," it said with eerie calm. "Your soul's essence. It speaks louder than thought. That… is one of my divine abilities."
Ethan was struck silent. One of its divine abilities? Just how many did it have?
Suddenly, the voice shifted—firmer and urgent.
"We are running out of time. I sense your confusion and your questions. Ask them quickly. For this moment is rare."
The weight of those words gripped Ethan like chains. This wasn't just a fleeting encounter. It was the opportunity. A chance to understand why he had come to this world. Why he had been reborn. Why he had been chosen.
He inhaled, steeling himself.
"…Why was I brought here?"
There was silence. Heavy and Measured.
Then the voice responded.
> "You were brought here for a sole purpose… to defend this world from the [ENEMY]."
Ethan blinked. "What enemy?"
> "Not an enemy," the voice corrected. "The [ENEMY]."
A flicker of irritation crossed Ethan's face. What kind of vague nonsense is that? What's the difference?
> "There is a difference," the voice answered smoothly, brushing his thought aside like wind over still water.
"An enemy is something you can see—something with a form. You can strike them, outmaneuver them, chain them.
But the [ENEMY]… it is not bound by such things. It does not obey the laws of nature. No weapon can touch it. No scheme can ensnare it. Against the [ENEMY], every superficial act is as meaningless as shouting into the void."
Ethan clenched his jaw. "Then how the hell am I supposed to defend anything from that?!"
> "Hah… Hahaha—" the voice suddenly laughed.
The laugh wasn't warm. It was a rupture in reality itself, like the creak of an ancient universe groaning beneath its own weight. It didn't comfort—it chilled but it did not affect Ethan in the slightest way.
"What the hell's so funny?" Ethan demanded, unamused.
> "It's just…" The voice exhaled something close to nostalgia. "Amusing. That you're not afraid. It's been so long since someone dared speak to me like this. You… remind me of them."
Them? Ethan was confused but it looked like the voice was no longer going to shed light on that topic.
> "And as for how to defeat the [ENEMY]…" the voice continued, "Even I do not know."
"What?!" Ethan shouted. "Then how am I—"
> "That… is why you were chosen."
Ethan paused. "What?"
> "You like that word a lot," the voice teased, cutting him off again. "But no—I don't speak of your class, or your form, or your fate. I speak of your will."
> "Your will to fight. Your will to survive. Your refusal to kneel, even as the world crumbles. Your obsession with overcoming, regardless of the cost. That indomitable force within you… that is why I chose you."
The words struck Ethan deeper than he expected. He stood silent, turning them over in his mind.
> "I do not know how you will succeed," the voice admitted. "But I know you can. Your will is unlike anything I've witnessed in ages. Whether it becomes your blade or your shackle… is up to you."
Ethan lowered his head, lost in thought. Then, as if reaching a decision, he looked up. His silence was answer enough.
The voice seemed… pleased.
"I need to know," Ethan said, his voice firm now. "This [ENEMY] I'm supposed to face… can't I know what it is? Or its name?"
The voice grew solemn again.
> "Your mind is not strong enough to bear such knowledge. And even if it were… the [ENEMY] can sense when one thinks of it. That, too, is one of its divine abilities."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Then I guess… I need to become strong enough just to think about my enemy."
He let out a long sigh.
"…This is going to be difficult."
There was a reason Ethan hadn't hesitated to accept the mission.
Back on Earth, he had nothing left. No dreams. No family. No connections.
After achieving his revenge, the fire that once kept him moving had burned everything else with it.
He hadn't formed any bonds—hadn't wanted to. The world felt dull, grey… meaningless.
So with the opportunity to start anew in a world where he would matter—where he had a purpose—he took it without flinching.
A fresh beginning.
A clean slate.
A chance to carve meaning out of chaos.
Ethan glanced into the black, the presence of the Voice still looming unseen.
"Why were my memories altered at first?"
> "They served as a buffer," the Voice replied. "A resonance, perfectly aligned with the Ethan of this world.
That Ethan… had died in spirit. And you, Ethan, had died in body. The memories you received weren't false—they were reflections, designed to synchronize your soul with his vessel."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "So… I would've ended up here either way?"
> "Yes," the Voice said. "Even if you had never recovered your true memory, your will would remain untouched. And your path… would still lead you to the [ENEMY]."
He nodded slowly, digesting the revelation. His eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Then that ritual… the one that started all this. You sent it, right?"
A brief pause.
> "No."
That stopped Ethan cold. His mind reeled. "What?"
> "The ritual merely alerted me to his existence. It gave me the window I needed. His body was the vessel—but he was the one who chose to go through with the ritual.
Willingly. It was his own hand that carved the circle. His own voice that spoke the invocation. I only came after and did not have anything to do with how he acquired it"
A strange discomfort settled in Ethan's chest. The moral weight of it wasn't lost on him. A life had been replaced—swallowed up by something greater.
Was it right?
Did it matter?
Hearing his thoughts, the Voice added:
> "He chose that path, Ethan. He gave up everything—not for power, but for freedom. In doing so, he made way for you."
The atmosphere changed then. He could feel the void tightening, pulsing unnaturally.
> "There is no longer any time. The longer you remain here, the more likely the [ENEMY] becomes aware of you."
The edges of Ethan's form began to shimmer—like smoke unraveling into the dark.
> "Take these final words…"
The Voice grew distant as Ethan's vision blurred.
> "Your talent is a phenomenon unseen by even me. It will be your greatest weapon against the [ENEMY]."
The light—or absence of it—began to fold in on itself.
> "And remember: the Sanctum is real. It is as real as you are. So do not be foolish."
Ethan nodded, committing the words to memory.
Then, just before he was about to vanish completely, something flickered in his mind. A question. Small, strange, but stubborn.
He looked up, even as his body was nearly gone.
"…Why Juice WRLD?"
The Voice was silent for a moment.
And then, just as Ethan's presence teetered on the edge of total disappearance, the Voice spoke.
> "He's my favorite artist."
Ethan's eyes widened in genuine surprise. He couldn't help it—a smile broke across his fading face.
"He's mine too…"
And with that, he was gone.
The void returned to silence.
...
...
...
A/N I will release an extra chapter if I get 90 power stones or 30 Golden tickets and I appologize for the late release.
...
...
...
...