[Sebas Tian's POV]
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"There are decades when nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen."
It surely has felt that way ever since I met John.
I have spent my entire existence serving supreme beings. Lord Touch Me, my creator, who built into me the unshakeable belief that strength exists only to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Lord Momonga, last of the forty-one, for whom I would have walked into any fire without question. I have knelt at the feet of beings who could unmake cities with a casual flick of their wrists as the leader of the Pleiades Nine.
I had always felt a quiet dissonance with many of my peers within Nazarick. For better or for worse, I carried the righteous and strict sense of personal justice of my creator - a trait that often felt like a heavy armor in a tomb that celebrated cruelty. I did not despise humans, nor did I view them as inherently worthless creatures, unlike the popular belief in the great tomb.
So, when I first awoke in this strange new world, standing before Master John, my programming dictated that I follow this new being's every command. However, I am a being who questions his own actions, even if it occasionally conflicts with the immediate desires of a master. That underlying moral compass is why I was able to look past the chaotic facade of 'Master Kaisen' and see John for the person he truly is.
A young man burdened with chaotic blessings, wrapped in a terrifying potential for both great good and devastating evil.
When I asked him to grant me his first orders, I heard the earnest request of someone searching for a foothold in a world that would not let him rest easily.
"Please, Sebas. Make me stronger."
At that exact moment, a quiet warmth took root in my chest. My previous masters had been unfathomably powerful, their ideals absolute. But this was merely a young man trying to survive. I recognized that look instantly.
The obligation to be strong.
As I learned more about John and the reality of this world, I was able to grasp its root principles. This 'Invincible' world operated on a brutal, unrefined simplicity. Where Nazarick relied on intricate magical tiers and layers of strategic deception, this world favored blunt, planetary-scale forces.
A reality of remarkable people held together by a similar remarkable fragility. Heroes who had been given power and were trying, however imperfectly, to do what good they could.
A government intelligence director who protected humanity through a combination of competence and moral flexibility. And above all of it, a Viltrumite warrior who had spent years wearing the face of a good man before deciding that face no longer fit.
I knew his current approach needed to change.
He was trying to play a high-stakes game of chess by simply throwing the pieces at the board.
And so I began to drill the iron discipline Lord Touch Me had taught me into John, the only way I knew how.
Tough Love.
I put my new master through the wringer and through walls, both literally and spiritually.
I must admit, it was somewhat refreshing to be able to physically discipline my own master for once, for his own benefit of course.
To break him down so he could rebuild himself with actual foundations, rather than relying on the whimsical generosity of a chaotic system.
In the following week, I strictly forbade him from relying on his chaotic God's blessings to gamble for new powers.
And well... perhaps I had overstepped my duties there. Maybe I wouldn't have fallen to the beast if I had allowed him his crutches. Either way. I regret nothing.
"I have no intention of helping those who only pray for others to extend a helping hand," I told him firmly when he reached for his gambling tickets. He needed to learn how to adapt and master his own physical body, not wait for a miraculous roll of the dice.
But I failed him spectacularly when I kicked him into that 'Elephant's Foot', that looked nothing like its title, in Chernobyl.
The sickening energy I felt radiating from it was akin to the dying breath of a star. I was terrified I had committed the gravest sin when I saw Master take in too much of that stellar energy, his body burning from the inside out. I had pushed him too far. I had let my own harsh standards blind me to his mortal limits.
When he miraculously pulled through, expelling the energy to return life to that barren wasteland, I recognized the true depth of his willpower.
But I still needed to face the consequences of my severe miscalculation.
Unfortunately, my Master was entirely too kind and perhaps too exasperated to deal out a proper execution. Instead, he ordered me to face a blank wooden wall and kneel, like I was a small child who committed a mischief. Aside from a few times where I'd be ordered to hold much more undignified positions, my punishment didn't change.
It was a bizarre mercy. One that only reinforced my quiet dedication to him.
During the following week, while I dutifully served my punishment, my Master consolidated his new powers. He brought in the brilliant, albeit crude, scientists known as the Mauler Twins.
I was kneeling in the corner when the clone had the gall to speak profanely toward Lady Nakime.
Seeing Master John act with that decisive ruthlessness and decapitate the clone brought a quiet sense of pride to my heart. True strength of character is a different measure entirely. John was finally beginning to understand the weight of leadership. He was drawing lines in the sand, protecting what was his.
Speaking of Lady Nakime, she and I had quickly formed a quiet kinship. Both of us had spent our existences serving terrifying Demon Lords, and now we found ourselves serving a mortal teenager. Fate works in interesting ways indeed.
She was fiercely loyal, but deeply unsure of herself, particularly regarding her appearance. Having been a resident of Nazarick, I found her single eye to be entirely mundane, but she constantly agonized over what Master thought of her.
But hidden just beneath her gentle innocence was a deep, festering sorrow. One quiet evening, she confided her story to me.
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers resting lightly on the strings of her biwa. Then she told me, in the careful and slightly formal way she approached things that cost her something to say, about her husband. The money that disappeared. The dress. The night she had lost the thread of who she was trying to be and had not found it again for a very long time.
I listened without interrupting.
When she finished, she looked at her hands. "I do not want to watch it again," she said. "Even if the circumstances are not the same. Even if Master John's situation is…different."
When the tears finally spilled from her beautiful eye, I reached into my coat and offered her my handkerchief.
"A handkerchief that cannot be used is a sad one indeed, especially one that cannot even wipe away a person's tears," I murmured gently as she took it.
Her tragic history perfectly explained why she walked on eggshells around Master John whenever his addiction flared up. She was terrified of the gambling vice consuming him the same way it had consumed her late husband.
Yet, I was highly impressed by her capabilities. When I learned she had actively held 'Omni-Man' prisoner inside her Infinity Castle, my respect for her deepened. This wooden castle was not as grand as the grand tomb of Nazarick, but it possessed a profound charm. Especially when Master John ordered the surviving Mauler to construct a beautiful, modern room for her according to her exact tastes.
And when I learned that Master had completely refused to sacrifice Lady Nakime's life to permanently deal with his accursed mortal enemy? A genuine smile touched my lips.
He possessed a terrifying capacity for ruthlessness, yes, but he also possessed loyalty. A rare and precious commodity.
"Say, Sir Sebas," Lady Nakime whispered to me later that day, plucking her biwa softly, her back against the castle wall that I continued to kneel and face. "Please do not hate our Master too much for this silly punishment. He can be quite childish at times, but he always means well..."
"Lady Nakime," I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the wooden grain. "Hatred would never be a possibility where Master John is concerned. But I do worry about his crippling addiction. It is as if he is using those flashing tickets as a shield to hide something deeply broken within his heart."
I closed my eyes, listening to the gentle hum of her instrument. It was a melancholy tune, fitting for two displaced servants watching over a fractured boy.
"We are neither omniscient nor omnipotent," I said softly. "Has there ever been a truly correct answer in this world? The only thing we can do is keep walking forward, and guide him as best we can."
Lady Nakime nodded, her single eye softening. "I feel that too. But we will have to be patient for him to truly open up to us. Sir Sebas... please protect Master until he can do so."
"Lady Nakime, you have my word," I vowed quietly. "I would gladly die once more before ever letting Master be hurt... well, as long as it is not me administering his training, of course."
Lady Nakime smiled in relief, her delicate fingers returning to play a soothing melody.
I remained perfectly still, continuing to face the wall and follow Master's punishment exactly as a loyal butler should. But there was a new, understated smile on my face.
'Perhaps this new world will not be so cold after all.'
[A/N]: A bit on the shorter side but important nonetheless. So Overlord fans, how did I do? Was I successful in capturing Sebas's character?
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