Who.....Who is he....?

Why is he so much important.....?

The long hallway echoed with the sharp sound of her footsteps. Vitaria marched forward, her heels hitting the marble floor with loud, echoing sounds.

Even in anger, her eyes were more beautiful than the moon, her celestial glow outshining the night itself. Her face, radiant and flawless, held a beauty softer than moonlight yet more commanding than the sun.

After a thousand years, he has summoned me.

Summoned me—to speak of a lowly human.

Me, the second most powerful celestial god.

Vitaria's eyes burned with frustration.

So why is he so important…

That He—The Creator, the one who shaped this entire celestial universe—

Has requested me, the Goddess of Life itself, to reincarnate a mere mortal?

And yet… The Creator didn't even give me the human's name.

Instead, all he said was, "You will find him when you reach Earth in Universe 10."

Vitaria's fingers twitched as she processed the words once more. Find him? Did the Creator truly expect her to walk among humans and search for this unknown mortal like some lowly messenger?

Her lips curled slightly, half in amusement, half in annoyance.

Is he a celebrity there?

Or a king who rule that Earth?

Her eyes gleamed, frustration flickering beneath their celestial glow.

Either way… this mortal is getting on my nerves.

Suddenly, she smirked, crossing her arms as a dangerous glint flashed in her eyes.

"You better be amusing, mortal… or else."

Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

"If you waste my time, I will make sure your reincarnation is so awful that you will pray you had never been born. I will create a hell just for you."

As if answering her resolve, the space before her shimmered, twisting and crackling with divine energy. A swirling portal burst open, its golden edges glowing with celestial fire. Without hesitation, Vitaria stepped forward, her figure vanishing into the unknown.

The moment she emerged on the other side, the divine aura around her faded, replaced by something more… human. Her flowing celestial robes dissolved into an elegant yet ordinary dress, blending her into the crowd. Her golden glow dimmed, her overwhelming presence suppressed. She looked no different from any other woman walking the streets of Earth.

She glanced down at herself, scoffing.

"Hmph. How bothersome."

Looking up, she took in the unfamiliar city—the towering buildings, the flashing lights, the endless crowd of humans. But something felt… off.

They were all walking in the same direction.

A steady stream of people moved forward, focused, purposeful, as if drawn by something unseen. Frowning, Vitaria narrowed her eyes, observing them for a moment.

Is this normal? she wondered.

Curiosity flickered in her gaze. Then, stepping forward, she reached out and stopped an elderly man passing by.

"Excuse me," she said, her tone holding an air of command, though softened to match her human disguise.

The elderly man turned toward her, his gaze mildly surprised.

Vitaria gestured toward the moving crowd. "Why are all these humans... people... going in one direction? Is there some kind of celebration? A festival?"

The old man smirked, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Yes, it's a celebration."

Vitaria tilted her head slightly. "A celebration of what?"

The man's smirk widened as he spoke. "The execution of the most wanted criminal in human history. Every country in the world wants him dead."

For the first time, Vitaria was caught off guard.

"A human so dangerous that the entire world agrees he must die?"

Her golden eyes flickered with intrigue.

"Interesting… Could this criminal be the one the Creator sent me for?

Then why… Why would the Creator ask me to reincarnate a criminal? Why?"

She was about to turn away, lost in thought, when something caught her attention.

The crowd.

For an execution, the atmosphere felt… wrong. There was no celebration, no cheering, no satisfaction at justice being served. Instead, there was sorrow. Heavy, silent grief hung over the people like a storm cloud. Some whispered among themselves, others clutched signs with words she couldn't yet read, and a few even had tears in their eyes.

Frowning, she turned back to the elderly man.

"If he is the worst criminal in human history… then why does everyone here look sad?"

The old man let out a slow chuckle, his smirk deepening.

Vitaria's eyes narrowed.

"And what was his crime?"

The old man tilted his head slightly, as if amused by her curiosity. Then, with a voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather, he said—

"He wiped out world hunger."

Vitaria froze.

"…He did what?"

But the old man only repeated, his smirk never fading—

"He wiped out world hunger."

The words echoed in her mind, bouncing off the walls of her thoughts like a cruel joke.

"He… he wiped out world hunger… But why? Why is he being executed?"

The man chuckled, as if entertained by her confusion.

"He was a modern Robin Hood."

Vitaria frowned.

"Robin Hood? You mean the thief who stole from the rich and gave to the poor?"

The old man nodded.

"Yes, but unlike the legend, he didn't steal from just the wealthy. He stole illegal money—dirty money—from governments all across the world."

Vitaria's eyes narrowed.

"Governments?"

The man continued, his voice steady, almost admiring.

"At first, he worked alone. A ghost in the system, hacking, infiltrating, and redistributing wealth. But along the way, he gained millions of followers—people from every corner of the world who believed in his cause. Hackers, activists, even people inside the governments themselves… They all helped him in his mission."

The crowd moved steadily forward, but Vitaria barely noticed.

"His reign lasted almost ten years," the man went on. "He looted nearly every source of illegal money in the world. Corrupt politicians, criminal organizations, hidden war funds—he drained them all. And he made sure that no one in this world would ever go hungry again."

Vitaria stared at the man, her mind racing.

"If… if he has done all this for millions—no, billions—then people must support him, right? Why is no one here fighting for him? Why isn't anyone helping him escape? Why… is no one standing by his side?"

Her voice wavered, an unfamiliar unease creeping into her words.

She swallowed, then asked in a quiet, almost hesitant tone—

"What is his name?"

The old man's smirk faded. His gaze darkened, but not with anger—rather, with something resembling sorrow.

"His name is Light."

Vitaria's breath caught.

"Light…?"

The man nodded.

"The one who became the light of millions. The man who stole from the corrupt and gave to the suffering. The savior who illuminated the darkness of greed and injustice."

Vitaria clenched her fists.

"Then why—"

"Because he surrendered himself."

She froze.

"What?"

The old man sighed.

"No one is here to help him because he chose this fate. He walked into the hands of the government willingly. No one betrayed him. No one captured him. He gave himself up."

Vitaria's heart pounded.

"A man powerful enough to shake the world… willingly accepting death?"

Why? Why would a man like Light surrender himself?

Her respect for him deepened with every word. It seeped into her voice, into the way her breath hitched as she spoke.

"Tell me," she demanded, her tone softer now, not out of weakness but reverence.

The old man met her gaze, his smirk now replaced by something more solemn.

"As I said before, Light had millions of followers across the world. The government saw him as a threat—one they couldn't capture. So instead, they turned to his disciples."

Vitaria's grip tightened at her sides.

"What do you mean?"

The man's voice darkened.

"They started hunting them. At first, they only captured them—tortured them for information. But no one gave Light up."

The old man continued, his tone heavy.

"When torture failed, they took a darker path. They began massacring his followers, wiping them out like vermin. Entire families were executed just for being associated with him. The world's leaders had decided—if they couldn't have Light, they would erase everyone who stood beside him."

"So… to save them—"

"He surrendered himself."

The words cut through her like a blade.

"It was the only way," the man said. "A single life, sacrificed to protect millions. Even in death, he chose to save others."

Vitaria felt a strange unease settle in her chest.

A tightness. A weight she couldn't quite place.

And then—

Drip.

A single drop rolled down her cheek.

She lifted a hand to her face, touching the moisture with confusion.

"What… is this?" she murmured. "Why are my eyes… secreting water? Why won't it stop?"

The old man glanced at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with quiet certainty, he said—

"Because it's time."

He turned, stepping forward, disappearing into the dense crowd.

Vitaria stood there for a moment, staring after him, the wetness on her cheeks still unfamiliar, still foreign.

Why?

She had seen countless deaths. She had witnessed worlds rise and fall. Empires crumbling. Civilizations erased from existence.

She was the Goddess of Life. Death was nothing new to her.

So why did this feel different?

She inhaled sharply, pushing away the feeling. Then, without another word, she followed the old man, weaving through the sea of mourners.

Each step brought her closer.

Closer to the man the world had condemned.

Closer to the one who called himself Light.

And soon, she would stand before the most wanted criminal to ever live.