The rain was falling in sheets, cold and merciless. The honking of cars, the flashing of headlights, the chaos of an accident site—these were the last things he saw before his vision blurred. His lungs burned, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
"Ah… so this is how I die?" The young man chuckled bitterly, though the sound was drowned by the storm. "Just like that? A nobody on Earth? Not even a name remembered?"
He had been an ordinary youth. An orphan, raised without warmth, scraping through life with the company of books, anime, and webnovels. His greatest pleasure had been binge-reading villain novels—stories where the so-called "heroes" were stripped of their destiny, their heroines stolen, their opportunities seized. He had laughed at the arrogance of protagonists, admired the cruel wit of villains, and often thought: If I ever had the chance, I'd choose the villain's path. Always.
But fate cared nothing for his fantasies. A truck, a scream, a collision—and his fragile life ended.
Darkness swallowed him.
Yet this was not the darkness of death. It was deeper, endless, and alive. His drifting soul floated in a sea of silence, a place beyond imagination. The Void Rift.
Time lost its meaning. Seconds stretched into years, years stretched into eternities. He drifted, neither alive nor dead, a fragment of will swallowed by an infinite nothingness.
At first, he raged. He screamed, cursed the heavens, cursed the truck, cursed his useless mortal life. But the Void did not answer.
Then he despaired. Silence gnawed at him. The loneliness was unbearable. He thought he would shatter.
But he did not.
Because slowly, the Void whispered. Not in words, but in feelings, in concepts. A presence so vast and ancient it made galaxies look like motes of dust. It pressed upon his soul, examined him, weighed his essence.
And then, it accepted him.
"You are mine now. Heir of the Void. Sole inheritor of what lies beyond creation and destruction."
A torrent of energy surged into him. His soul, once fragile, now brimmed with unfathomable power. Concepts of laws, runes, and worlds carved themselves into his being. He saw the rise and fall of countless universes, the battles of ancient beings who shattered stars with a gesture, the cultivation paths walked by gods and devils.
And he understood.
The Void had chosen him.
The orphan who had no family, no love, no bonds—was now the one true successor of the eternal emptiness.
"Villain novels…" His laughter echoed through the dark, sharp and cruel. "All those tricks, all those schemes, all those paths—I remember them all. Heroes, destiny, fate… hah! I'll take everything for myself."
Thus began his path.
He cultivated, devouring every scrap of knowledge from the Void's inheritance. From Transcendent to Tao, from Tao to realms beyond comprehension, he climbed step by step, never faltering.
Worlds trembled at his presence. Gods knelt before him. Demons pledged eternal loyalty. Armies of immortal beings branded with slave marks marched at his command.
And yet, boredom crept in.
For 20 trillion years, he ruled unchallenged. Multiverses rose and fell in his palm. Parallel dimensions bent their knees. His name became a taboo whispered in fear across infinite realities.
But what was the point?
When you stand at the peak for too long, even eternity feels like a cage.
He wanted something else. Something he never had.
"Family," he murmured once, gazing into the endless black. "Love. Affection. A place where I am not feared, but cherished."
So he did the unthinkable.
He sealed his supreme body in a forbidden region beyond reach of any being. His primordial spirit detached, drifting once more through the endless void. But this time, with a purpose.
He sought a family worthy of him. A clan whose roots stretched into mysteries even he could not fully grasp. A lineage strong enough to bear his rebirth, yet hidden enough not to alert enemies.
And he found it.
In a secluded, taboo region of a mighty multiverse, there existed a forgotten bloodline. A family so feared that even uttering their name was enough to summon calamity. The heavens themselves recoiled at their existence. They were known only as—
The Forbidden Lineage.
Their ancestor was a four-trillion-year-old monster who had once touched a realm even above the fabled Zeroth Tier. Thirteen Zeroth Tier ancestors slumbered within, each with power enough to destroy creation.
The current patriarch, a man who had ended an entire multiverse in his rage, was married to a demon queen of terrifying prestige. She carried within her womb a child for one hundred million years—a child destined for greatness.
That was the body he chose.
And thus, he was reborn.
Born as a Transcendent from birth, his very cry shook heavens. At eighteen, he touched the mysterious realm beyond Zeroth Tier—a feat none in history had accomplished so young.
The clan hailed him as their divine son. He was cherished, adored, worshipped. For the first time, he felt the warmth of a mother's embrace, the pride of a father's gaze, the laughter of kin.
But he never forgot.
He was the Voidborn.
And fate itself would bow to him.
At his coronation, when the multiverse celebrated, he smiled. A warm, gentle smile on the surface, hiding an abyss beneath. For he had already altered his destiny.
In his travels, he discovered a System in a distant parallel world—a relic meant to aid "chosen protagonists." But he, with his comprehension of divine laws, bent it to his will.
The System became his secretary, its purpose rewritten.
Now, instead of granting boons to protagonists, it would track them, strip them, feed their fortune and heroines to him. Villain Points replaced Fate Points. Opportunities of destiny became fuel for his ascension.
The game had changed.
And as he thought of Earth, a faint memory stirred. An anime he once watched—Eclipse of Illusion. A story that had enraged him with its pitiful protagonist and contrived betrayals.
A smile curved his lips.
"Let's change the script, shall we?"
His journey as the Final Villain began.