[He stands motionless, the weight of the silence pressing down like a storm on the verge of breaking, as he absorbs the truth.]

"So… this is it?" His voice is barely a whisper, yet it reverberates with the force of a thunderclap. There's disbelief in his tone, but beneath it lies something more potent—raw, unbridled anticipation. "This is what it feels like… to become eternal?"

A slow, wicked grin carves its way across his face, a grin that promises ruin. The realization hits him like a dark symphony, each note resonating deeper, stronger, until it crescendos into a revelation. Power—limitless and overwhelming—settles upon him like a crown of shadows. The air around him grows heavy, vibrating with an energy so sinister it feels alive.

Then comes the laughter.

At first, it's low and guttural, a sound born from the depths of madness. "Ha… ha…" It builds, each note dripping with malice, until it erupts into a crescendo of unhinged hysteria. "HA-HA-HA-HA!"

The sound is more than laughter; it's a herald of doom, a poison that seeps into the very fabric of reality.

Dark tendrils unfurl from his body, writhing and snapping like vipers in the air. They pulse with malevolence, as if eager to devour the world. The ground beneath his feet fractures, spiderweb cracks spreading outward, as if the earth itself shudders in fear. His eyes blaze—a terrifying, unyielding light that pierces through the veil of darkness.

He gazes toward the horizon, as if surveying not just this world, but countless others. His voice carries now, a booming declaration, equal parts prophecy and curse. "Let them tremble in my name. Let my power carve itself into their final, desperate breaths. I am their end… their despair incarnate. I will tear the stars from the heavens and smother their hope beneath the ashes of my dominion."

With a single, commanding sweep of his arm, an ocean of dark energy surges forth, devouring the light in its path. The very air around him collapses into a suffocating void, bending to his will. Reality itself seems to unravel, folding into the black tide as it sweeps across existence.

His laughter rises again, filling the cosmos with a relentless, hollow sound. It echoes across time and space, unyielding, eternal—a sound that will haunt the dreams of gods and mortals alike.

"Behold!" His voice thunders, shaking the heavens and ripping through the void. "I am the Eternal God. Bow, or be consumed."

And as the universe quakes under his might, his malevolent smile promises that no sanctuary will ever be beyond his reach.

..

[Flash back]

Rain poured from the cloudy evening sky, turning the city below into a misty blur. On the edge of a 24-floor building rooftop stood Riku Tanaka, a 26-year-old man whose fashion sense could only be described as mid-tier salaryman meets anime protagonist. His tie flapped dramatically in the wind, although it was slightly ruined by the fact that he'd accidentally spilled coffee on it earlier.

His feet hovered inches from the void, almost as if he expected to unlock some hidden double-jump ability.

"Where's this so-called God?" he muttered, letting the rain sting his face. "Come on, you omnipotent fraud. I've been paying my karma bills, haven't I? No gods, no miracles… just a never-ending gacha life, and all I ever pull are rares."

He scoffed, then snorted. "Truck-kun had one job, man. At least isekai protagonists get cool cheat abilities and harems. What do I get? Taxes and vending machines that never give change."

Riku shook his head, memories flashing by like a bad anime recap episode. His father—a zealot, using religion as a front for his Yakuza empire. His mother—a victim of that same empire. The world—an unending grind.

"My father..." he muttered, flexing his rain-soaked hands. "A real piece of work. Killed my mom when I was seven and told me, 'God forgives, but you still gotta take out the trash.' What does that even mean? I'm seven, man."

Riku's school life wasn't much better. "Being a Yakuza kid didn't exactly win me any points with my classmates. No one wants to trade Pokémon cards with the 'mobster's brat.' My social circle was basically me, Goku, and the cast of One Piece."

Then came his job at a lab. "Thought I'd escape by drowning in science. Nope. Everyone there is either a robot or a caffeine addict. And then... I met her." He paused dramatically, like he was waiting for background music to kick in.

"My first love. The one bright spot in this dumpster fire. Two days ago, though? She's gone. Car accident. But no, turns out it was actually some 'holy war' between two nutjob religious cults. You know what's worse than a random death? Finding out it was because someone couldn't agree on the correct way to interpret divine emojis or whatever."

His lips twitched into a bitter smile. "Life sucks, huh?"

Riku tipped his head back, letting the rain stream down his face. "But hey, if there is a God out there, now's your chance, buddy. You wanna fight? Let's fight."

He threw his arms out dramatically. "COME ON, YOU DIVINE COWARD! SHOW YOURSELF, YOU, F***ING GO..."

A blinding flash of lightning split the sky, cutting him off mid-rant. The crack of thunder roared in his ears, and the next thing he knew, the world dissolved into a white, all-encompassing light.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a disembodied voice, deep and vaguely annoyed, rumbled in the void.

Riku's eyes fluttered open. His head throbbed like he'd just been hit by a thunderstorm, which, to be fair, he sort of had. His vision swam as he tried to focus. Everything looked... wrong. Colors too bright. Shapes too sharp. He squinted at his hands—slender, almost delicate fingers.

"What... what happened?" he mumbled, swaying like a broken bobblehead. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a nearby puddle. Flowing robes. Intricate runes. A pointy hat.

"Is this... a mage outfit?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Oh no. I'm that guy now."

Before he could process the fact that he looked like the protagonist of a questionable JRPG, a shadow loomed over him. He blinked up at the figure—a tall, striking woman with elven features, ears as pointy as his hat, and a perpetual expression of I'm too cool for this.

She wore gleaming armor that screamed "main character energy" and wielded a sword that looked like it had been stolen from an overzealous blacksmith's nightmare.

"Uh… hi?" Riku managed, giving her a sheepish wave. "You wouldn't happen to know where the nearest Starbucks is, would you? I'm new here."

The elf didn't say a word. Her eyes narrowed, and without warning, she lunged at him, sword flashing in the eerie light.

Riku's brain short-circuited. "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! TIME OUT! I JUST GOT HERE—"

Too late. The blade swung in a perfect arc, and the next thing Riku knew, he was looking at his own body in two distinct halves.

Darkness swallowed him.

"WHY DIDN'T I JUST STICK TO TRUCK-KUN?!"