"Well... it all happened like this," William began, his voice carrying a weight only Elsa could fully understand.
He unfolded the tale—one born from ambition, strategy, and the kind of long-ga only beings like them could play.
In his previous controlled reincarnation, he chose a universe ruled not by cultivation, but by pure technology. A realm where spiritual energy was myth, and science dictated reality.
He was reborn into the Terra Empire — a vast human dominion spanning galaxies — as the son of a powerful duke. From there, William began his journey. With strategic brilliance and a mind forged in countless past lives, he joined the Terra Empire’s Space Navy. He climbed the ranks fast, surviving mission after mission where death was almost certain. His calculated daring, his refusal to break, earned him not only victories but the loyalty of thousands across the empire.
By age 23, he was appointed Supre Marshal of the Terra Navy — a rank never held by anyone outside the imperial family since the empire’s founding. But this wasn’t the emperor’s decision alone. The Terra Council — a body equal in power to the throne, charged with safeguarding the empire and overseeing the navy — saw in William sothing rare: potential, power, and purpose.
One year later, word spread through the galaxy: the chanical race, long extinct, had stirred or remained. Their legendary ho world, Utopia, once thought lost, had resurfaced.
He had planned to awaken the Ragnarok Ascendant—the very dreadnought he’d designed himself when he reached utopia.
According to ancient records, Utopia held a weapon of mass destruction — a relic powerful enough to shift the balance of the galaxy. The emperor summoned William and gave him a mission: seize control of Utopia before anyone else could.
He accepted, unaware of the trap waiting for him.
The mission was ant to be covert. Fast. Clean.
Until it wasn’t.
"They turned on ," William said, voice low.
Instead, William’s fleet was ambushed by a mysterious force — overwhelming, unknown, and brutal. He fought like a storm, outwitting, outmaneuvering, and ultimately destroying the enemy’s entire armada.
But it cost him everything.
To destroy the enemy, William had no choice... he destroyed his own ship himself. Took them all with him. In a mutual annihilation.
William died even before he could reach utopia and start another phase of his growth in that universe.
His eyes montarily dimd as the mory replayed—crimson warnings, failing systems, the final goodbye with his crew and the rush of collapsing void space. Then silence.
Elsa listened quietly, nodding gently as the story unfolded. Not a trace of surprise crossed her face—she knew William. Knew how deeply his plans always ran. But the seriousness in his voice, the tinge of frustration... that was new.
"And just like that," William said at last, "I woke up here. In this new universe."
He gave her a small smile, more tired than smug.
"As you know, I had a system in place. If I died, my soul would transfer—another universe, another chance. Another cycle. The only difference was that I’d begin unlocking my powers once more, piece by piece. And now that I’ve returned... I figured it was ti."
His gaze softened as it t hers.
"Ti to awaken you, Elsa. So we can begin again. Another journey. Another climb. After all," William said quietly, "we’ve both spent far too long living in stillness... after I reached eternity, and beyond. But now, I feel it—this pull, this urge to experience again the struggles we once faced in our pri. It’s ti to rise again. Together."
Elsa exhaled slowly, her erald eyes shimring with thought. But instead of responding with the reverence or acceptance most would expect, she tilted her head and asked, with casual curiosity:
"So... you actually died out there?"
William—winced. He’d been trying to steer the conversation away from this exact mont. It was clear now he had failed. A twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away as he reluctantly nodded.
He might have been a being beyond fate, but even now, it seed like he couldn’t escape it—at least not from her questions.
Elsa’s lips twitched, fighting the laughter rising in her throat.
"Let get this straight," she said, voice laced with amusent." You—William. A being who once stood above all others, who reached heights no one else could dream of—got brought down so thoroughly that not even your ashes remained? And this happened... because of a human? A mortal’s sche and plot?"
William nodded again, this ti stiffly. His face flushed with deep embarrassnt, the confirmation dragging across his expression like a weight. For a brief mont, Elsa simply stared, captivated by the rawness of his emotion.
Then she broke.
"Pfff—hahaha... HAAHAHAHAHA!"
She burst into laughter—deep, uncontrollable, and explosive. She clutched her stomach as the laughter overtook her, tears streaming down her face. Her body shook as she fell to the ground, rolling as the hilarity consud her.
William stood there in silence, wearing what could only be described as the embarrassnt of a lifeti. He didn’t speak, didn’t move—just watched her writhe in amusent at his expense.
Eventually—after what felt like an eternity—Elsa managed to slow her laughter enough to speak again, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Would anyone even believe it?" she gasped. "That soone like you, even with your powers sealed, actually fell for the tricks of a mortal? I an... that’s just rich."
William sighed, voice barely a whisper.
"Enough, Elsa. You’ve had your fill. Quiet down, will you?"
Though it sounded like a command, his voice betrayed him. There was no edge to it—only a soft plea. His eyes, red and vulnerable, looked like those of a scolded pup. A once-great king humbled by the mory of defeat—and the laughter of soone who knew him too well.
Of course, that only made Elsa laugh again, just for a mont.
"Okay, okay!" she said at last, raising her hands in surrender. "I won’t laugh anymore. I promise—I’ve had my fun. "Still chuckling, she wiped away the last of her tears.
Only once her laughter had truly faded did she return to the gravity of what William had said.
Her voice softened, eyes eting his with quiet understanding.
"So... we really are beginning a new era for ourselves," she whispered.
William gave her a nod—still red-faced, still flustered—but with a small, honest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes," he said. "Again."
And just like that, William and Elsa continued talking quietly, their words fading into peaceful silence as they gazed upon the beautiful serenity of William’s spiritual world.
A few minutes passed before William finally broke the silence. "Shall we go, Elsa? After all... we have a universe to discover. Don’t you agree?"
Elsa smiled with warmth and a spark of excitent. "Of course I would. So let’s go! What are we waiting for?" she said, her enthusiasm outshining even William’s.
William chuckled softly and sighed, mories washing over him—of days long gone, of the ti he had once fought to reach the pinnacle of power. The monts they had shared then were etched deeply into his spirit. A soft smirk crossed his face.
Elsa, who was walking just ahead, paused when she noticed he had fallen behind. Curious, she turned to face him. "What are you thinking about, William?"
He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Oh, nothing really," he said with a faint smile. "Just... our past. Our journey. Those mories were as beautiful as this mont. Just thinking of them made smile without realizing."
Elsa gave him a gentle, knowing smile. "Well, hurry up. I can’t wait to see what lies out there in this vast universe."
William nodded and caught up to her. Together, they disappeared from his spiritual realm—the Garden of Eternity—leaving it silent once more within the vast inner world of William’s soul.
anwhile, aboard the Ragnarök, the figures of William and Elsa reappeared without a sound.
William’s expression was calm and composed, but Elsa looked completely different. Despite having seen the Ragnarök countless tis, she wandered around the command deck like a curious child, her eyes darting here and there, taking in every detail as if for the first ti.
After a while, William called out with a tired smile, "Okay, Elsa. That’s enough."
"Alright, alright!" she replied playfully and skipped over to him, settling into the seat beside his—one reserved for her long ago. She bounced slightly, excited and impatient, while William could only shake his head at her behavior, a quiet fondness in his gaze.
Then, he sat on his command throne.
"Ascendency," he called.
The na echoed with quiet power.
Ascendency—the core AI of the Ragnarök, and a being of imnse processing and strategic intelligence. Not just any AI, but a Sentinel, a creation of William himself. She ruled over the Ragnarök with absolute control—but always in service of her creator’s will.
As if in answer, a sphere of white energy appeared a few ters in front of them. It pulsed gently before shifting, churning, and solidifying into the form of a woman—tall, graceful, and radiant.
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