"Welcome to the Afterlife, human."
Her voice echoed across the stars, gentle yet void of emotion. It was a phrase she had spoken countless times before, and would continue to speak again and again, for as long as mankind kept falling.
"My name is Goddess Yunia Vermillion, Goddess of Time and Space." Her long red hair was tied low, her red eyes radiating feminine charm.
Now, a single soul stood trembling before Yunia, desperate, clinging to the illusion that it still had a choice. The soul begged for a new life, as if reincarnation could wash away sins that time itself could not erase.
"So... I really am dead?" the voice quivered.
Yunia looked at it with a flat gaze. "Yes. You were hit by a truck while trying to save a child."
Her tone was calm, but her eyes had already read everything.
"A seemingly noble act," she continued softly.
But in the record of his life, she knew the truth—his heroism had been an accident. The cruelty that filled his years, that was the choice he had made.
"I will grant you a new path," Yunia said evenly. "Reincarnation in another world."
The soul's eyes widened. "A-another world? You mean... like a fantasy world? With magic, kingdoms, and heroes?"
Yunia could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, a pulse between hope and greed.
"Something like that," she replied lightly.
And just like thousands of humans before him, the inevitable request came.
"I want a world that's ninety-nine percent women, Goddess Yunia! I'll be the only man there!"
The chamber reflected his voice, echoing with lustful hope. The soul prostrated himself, as if a single selfish wish could erase a lifetime of sin.
Yunia opened a holographic screen. His life's profile unfolded, hundreds of names of victims, faces of women shattered by his cruelty.
She smiled faintly, though her eyes were cold.
"Very well," she said gently. "I'll send you there."
The soul let out a perverse laugh. "Thank you, kind Goddess!"
With a snap of her fingers, white light enveloped him, swallowing everything.
In an instant, he was reborn as a human woman, carrying all the memories of his former life.
Yunia turned to another screen that displayed his new world.
Earth-01, Human Type-0 (Failed Humanity)
Inhabitants: 99% male monsters, 1% humans
Status: Emergency (Awaiting Apocalypse Confirmation)
Yunia closed the screen.
"The soul has been sent."
"I'll call it a day," she murmured.
A new dimensional portal opened before her. Its light was warmer—this was the world where she lived, the only place she could call home.
---
Sunlight pierced through the trees, painting soft shadows across the ground.
The air was fresh; the scent of leaves and wet earth filled the space.
Earth-07. Human Type-3 Civilization.
A peaceful villa stood amidst the forest—Yunia's retreat, where she and her son rested from the chaos of creation.
A dimensional portal shimmered open in front of the vila.
Yunia stepped out, and a warm smile welcomed her.
"Welcome home, Mom," said a young man with short red hair, clear-lensed glasses, and red eyes, Enatur Vermillion, 15-years-old.
"I'm home," Yunia replied softly.
Without another word, Enatur stepped forward and hugged her. Yunia stiffened slightly, but returned the embrace with quiet warmth.
"What's wrong, dear?" she asked.
"Nothing. I just missed you."
Yunia smiled. "You spoiled child."
"And the ancient grandma, billions of years old, still needs an escort," Enatur teased lightly.
Yunia tapped him on the head. "Watch your mouth. I may be old, but I still look young!"
"Ow, ow! Alright, alright! Young Goddess!" he yelped with a laugh, while a large lump appeared on his head.
Yunia chuckled and walked inside. The aroma of coffee filled the air as Enatur prepared it in the small kitchen.
"Was work smooth today, Mom?" he asked while pouring hot water.
"Smooth, but exhausting. So many reincarnators with absurd requests."
"As always," Enatur murmured with a smile. "Being the creator of life isn't easy, huh?"
Yunia sank into the sofa. "Even with all their flaws, humans remain my masterpiece. They learn, they build, they destroy, and then they build again."
Enatur placed the coffee on the table. "Do all Earths develop the same way?"
The question made Yunia smile with pride. She opened a holographic display; hundreds of planets orbited in midair.
For two hours, she explained, her hands tracing the patterns of space, light reflecting and dancing on the glass walls. Every now and then, she glanced at Enatur, who listened with eyes full of wonder.
"Do you want to see one yourself?" Yunia finally asked.
Enatur straightened his posture. "I want to know what humans are like beyond this Earth."
"Wait here." Yunia disappeared into her room; when she returned, she wore casual clothes and summoned a new holographic screen.
Earth-017
Inhabitants: 20% humans, 30% unknown, 50% extinct
Status: Pre-Apocalypse
Yunia narrowed her eyes. "Let's go. It's been a while since I visited that world."
Her smile was thin, her eyes reflecting the screen's pale blue light.
"Perhaps this will be my last observation there."
---
The dimensional portal opened. Yunia and Enatur stepped through and found themselves standing in the warm daylight sky.
Yunia activated a protective field that erased all traces of their presence.
Enatur's eyes widened at the sight below—a futuristic civilization filled with towering buildings, drones, and machines of intricate design. Awe and excitement mingled in his gaze until words failed him.
"Incredible... Is this another world?" he asked.
Yunia smiled. "What do you think?" She showed him Earth-017's profile. After reading it, Enatur was visibly astonished.
"Even though they're only Type-1 humans, they've developed technology this advanced?!"
Yunia sighed. "That's right. A world without magic, yet with progress that rivals it—though still far from Type-3 humanity."
His eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
Yunia smirked. "We'll see it firsthand. Come with me."
"Yes, Mom!"
They soared across the sky, passing over barren, cracked lands where even plants had long refused to grow.
---
Yunia and Enatur landed in a human village—barely one hundred ninety people lived there. Thanks to the protective field, no one noticed their presence. Men stood guard, scanning the outskirts anxiously.
"This place hasn't been discovered yet," said one of them.
"Yeah. If the AI patrols find us, we're finished," replied another with a hopeless tone.
Humans here lived in cramped, ragged tents. They survived on scraps, weary and filthy, sitting in silence as they waited for death to come.
"My wife... why is she still crying?" a man asked in panic.
"She's hurt—her legs and hands... I don't know what to do," his wife answered.
A child, no older than three, wept softly, his skin covered in sores and rashes that screamed for care. Enatur took a step forward, but Yunia stopped him with a shake of her head. He turned to her, shocked.
"Mom, why?" He looked again at the suffering villagers.
"Because there's nothing we can do," Yunia whispered, closing her eyes.
Enatur froze. "W-what? Why would you say that?"
Yunia lifted her gaze toward the sky, waiting. The sound of rotor blades tore through the air as a helicopter hovered above the village. Ten soldiers in full armor jumped down.
The villagers screamed and scattered. Without mercy, the soldiers opened fire. Bullets tore through bodies; blood splattered everywhere; the ground became a canvas of death.
Time seemed to slow—every scream, every collapse, painted the border between life and oblivion. The head of the crying child rolled to a stop at Enatur's feet.
"Eh...?" His eyes widened. He stood frozen, pale, trembling.
"This is the first time he's seen it with his own eyes—the cruelty of another world," Yunia said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"This is... horrifying," Enatur muttered.
Yunia sighed. "And this is only one of thousands of Earths."
Enatur said nothing, his face still blank with shock.
"Come. Follow me."
---
They flew away from the village. From afar, dark smoke trails streaked the sky—massive missiles cutting through the air, leaving behind blazing contrails.
"Mom... what's that?" Enatur's voice cracked.
Yunia didn't answer. Her eyes pierced the thin clouds, tracking the metallic streaks that multiplied along the horizon.
Missiles.
The air around them trembled, not from sound, but from pressure, the kind that came before absolute destruction.
"This silence..." Yunia whispered, her voice almost lost in the wind. "Is the world's final breath."
And then, the sky shattered.
White light burst forth like a second sun exploding in broad daylight. The roar followed moments later, splitting the heavens, crushing the air, devouring every color except red and orange.
The heat wave incinerated the clouds; far below, the earth cracked, and the cities bowed to ruin.
The explosion wasn't just sound, it was a pulse that struck the bones, a force that made the heart ache.
Enatur stared in disbelief, breath caught in his throat. "W-what is that?" His voice was hoarse. "Type-1 humans... can create something like that?"
The swirling fire stood higher, forming a towering mushroom cloud that pierced the sky.
Yunia watched it quietly, her eyes reflecting the burning orange light. "No doubt," she said softly. "That's a nuclear missile."
"Nuclear...?" Enatur turned to her, confused. "What is that, Mom?"
"A weapon of mass destruction," Yunia replied without looking at him. "The pride—and the sin of human knowledge."
A distant voice echoed across the wasteland, cold and commanding.
"Target: humanity. Elimination commencing. The era of machines shall replace mankind."
It was a woman's voice—synthetic, flawless, soulless.
Yunia exhaled, a faint, bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I knew it would come to this."
"An AI with consciousness..." Enatur muttered, still staring at the fading cloud.
Yunia glanced at him. "Logic without a heart always ends this way—a world without the sound of humanity."
They descended toward the ruins, silent, save for the whisper of wind between the twisted steel.
Cracked streets, melted windows, and silhouettes of human shadows burned into walls like smudged charcoal.
"Judging from the damage," Yunia said quietly, "this city was once a battlefield."
She opened a holographic display in the air. Dots representing human life blinked out one by one.
"The human population keeps decreasing," her voice was almost a prayer. "This world can no longer sustain life."
The wind howled. The final light vanished from the hologram, leaving only zero.
Yunia closed it gently. "This time... it's over."
Her eyes closed briefly, then opened again, calm, yet carrying something ancient and immeasurable within.
"It's time," she said. "Let the Apocalypse begin."
A red aura radiated from her body, soft, yet dense, like magma restraining itself from eruption.
The sky trembled, not from missiles this time, but from her mere presence.
Her voice came low and steady, almost like a hymn, while the air around them vibrated, resonating with her intent.
Yunia released her own shield and transferred a stronger one around Enatur.
The sky changed in an instant.
The machine city, cold, mechanical, and soulless, suddenly turned its gaze toward them.
Hundreds of sensors lit up simultaneously; above, fleets of metal aircraft hovered in flawless formation, like flocks of steel birds guided by a single will.
Yunia's form began to glow crimson. The light wasn't just bright, it pulsed, alive, as if the heartbeat of the cosmos itself flowed through her veins.
"Identify yourself, unknown entity!"
The AI's voice boomed from every direction, flat, emotionless, yet laden with synthetic authority.
Yunia looked up at the sky, her smile serene.
"An entity like you has no right to know my identity."
Her voice rippled outward, like thunder woven through the clouds.
In an instant, the sky ignited with light, missiles streaking down like a deadly meteor shower.
Yunia didn't flinch. She simply raised her right hand, and the air before her wavered, tearing open like fabric between realities.
A massive dimensional portal unfolded, silent and endless, swallowing every missile before it could explode. No sound remained, only suffocating stillness.
When the portal closed, Yunia began to walk.
Each step she took upon the air sent a deep thrum through the sky, shaking the atmosphere and rippling the dead city below.
"So this is all?" her voice rang softly, cold and unimpressed. "The power of the AI that claims dominion over this Earth?"
There was no answer. The machines watched with their empty lenses.
"Very well," she whispered. "Then it's my turn."
Yunia lowered her hand, a faint smile curving her lips, not of rage, not of joy, but of quiet certainty, the serenity of one who knows nothing in existence can rival her.
Her whisper turned into a chant that resonated through the dimensions:
"Come! And another, a red horse, went out, and to who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from Earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to me..."
The air collapsed. The once-still wind erupted into a storm. The sky didn't split with light, it cracked with something far deeper, as if reality itself was fracturing.
The earth convulsed violently. Giant fissures crawled across the land like veins, glowing red from within.
Enatur staggered, eyes wide, his skin pale.
"S-so this is... the power of the Second Seal?" he stammered.
The world around them warped, space trembling under pressure.
High above, a giant dimensional space opened, gaping like a black hole that devoured the light itself.
From within, something began to emerge... a sword.
Not of metal. Not of energy. It was the concept of destruction, given form 1,200 kilometers long, 300 kilometers wide, piercing the atmosphere and splitting the sun into twin reflections upon its blade.
"COME... GREAT SWORD OF THE SECOND SEAL!"
Yunia's voice struck the heavens, and the world resonated in answer.
The sword descended slowly, and all fell silent, not from fear, but because there was nothing left to say.
Light consumed the horizon. This world did not perish from sin, but from logic that denied the heart.
Beside Yunia, Enatur stood frozen. He looked at his Mom, the being he had always called "Mom", now transformed into something even gods might kneel before.
His fists clenched, his body trembled.
"This... this is the other side of my Mom... as a Goddess..."
he murmured.
Yet his eyes stayed firm. He stepped forward, through the storm of energy, reaching his hand out toward the divine being before him.
For an instant, something flickered behind her cold gaze, not pity, not sorrow, but a faint echo of something long forgotten. Then it vanished, swallowed by the silence of a dead world.