God's Journey In A New Time

Donovan sat in his room, the sunlight streaming through the large windows of Leon's mansion, illuminating his otherwise shadowed bedroom. The light danced across his face, but his expression remained as cold and unreadable as ever.

He rose from the bed, his movements deliberate and precise. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a faint yellow glow radiating from them, a subtle reminder of the immense power coursing through his being. With a soft sigh, he turned toward the center of the room.

"...Portal," he commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding.

At his words, a massive gate materialized before him. The structure was crafted from dark, unyielding stone, its surface etched with arcane symbols that seemed to writhe as though alive. At its pinnacle rested a menacing skull, and a faint, sky-blue aura pulsated from the portal, casting eerie shadows across the room.

"I must inspect one of the Dark Dimensions at least once," Donovan murmured, his tone as detached as ever.

Stepping through the portal, Donovan's feet touched down on unfamiliar terrain. The ground beneath him was blackened and lifeless, the air thick with an oppressive energy. He surveyed his surroundings, the gloomy atmosphere and endless void stretching in every direction.

"No space-time... no laws... no logic," he muttered, his voice laced with a faint hint of curiosity.

Donovan's form shifted, becoming ghostly and invisible as he began to explore this enigmatic realm. Each step carried him deeper into the unknown, his senses attuned to the strange energies permeating the dimension.

As he ventured further, he stumbled upon a village. Its existence puzzled him, given the chaotic and lawless nature of this dimension. Observing the inhabitants from a distance, Donovan's keen mind quickly deduced their nature. The villagers had striking purple skin and featureless, milky-white eyes. They moved with an unsettling grace, their bodies devoid of gender and modesty, and their presence exuded an air of other worldliness.

"An evolved race of mortals," Donovan mused, his thoughts racing. With a wave of his hand, a 3D holographic screen appeared before him, displaying intricate details about the enigmatic beings.

His eyes scanned the information with inhuman speed before dismissing the screen. "As I suspected. They lack individuality, even names, identifying only as 'Omega.' Intriguing."

To test them, Donovan bent down and picked up a small, jagged stone. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it into the sky. In an instant, one of the Omega raised a finger toward the stone, emitting a concentrated laser beam that obliterated it. The beam tore through the dimension's atmosphere, briefly creating a gaping hole before the fabric of reality seamlessly mended itself.

Donovan watched, unfazed. "A fascinating race," he thought aloud. "Primitive in consciousness but wielding immense destructive potential. In some ways, they resemble humanity's distant future, though humans will likely surpass them in intellect."

In a blink, Donovan teleported to a new location. This time, he stood before a massive cave, its entrance guarded by countless skeletons strewn across the ground in grotesque arrangements. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of decay. Within the cavern, grotesque creatures crawled on all fours. Their deformed bodies were twisted and unnatural, some resting in dark corners while others snarled and fought amongst themselves.

"So these are the Alpha race," Donovan observed. "Natural adversaries to the Omega, yet far more dangerous. Their savagery is apparent."

He snapped his fingers, conjuring a portal beneath his feet. The swirling vortex carried him back to the familiar confines of his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Donovan rested his cheek against his hand, his mind an endless storm of thought.

Within seconds, his consciousness expanded, exploring billions of possibilities. Each potential path branched into countless others, creating an intricate web of calculations and outcomes. Time seemed to stretch infinitely within his mind, though only moments passed in the real world.

A knock at the door shattered his trance. Leon's cheerful voice called out from the hallway. "Hey, Donovan! Good morning! Can you open up?"

Donovan's eyes snapped open, and he rose with an air of reluctant grace. "I'm coming," he replied.

Opening the door, Donovan was met with an animated Leon, who immediately grabbed his hands, his expression comically desperate.

"Donovan! Please, you have to come with us to the royal mansion party!" Leon begged, tears streaming down his face in an exaggerated display of emotion.

Donovan's brow furrowed. "Why should I?"

Leon clasped his hands together as if in prayer. "Because I'll owe you one. Please, I'm begging you."

With a sigh, Donovan relented. "Fine. I'll go."

Leon's face lit up. "Great! Meet me downstairs. Angelita and Luna are already ready."

Half an hour later, Donovan descended to the main hall of Leon's mansion. Angelita stood elegantly in a flowing white dress, while Luna donned a striking red gown. Leon, dressed in a formal black suit, grinned as he saw Donovan enter.

Donovan's white suit exuded an air of understated elegance, his commanding presence drawing Angelita's attention. She blushed and quickly averted her gaze, her heart racing.

Leon sidled up to Donovan, giving him a once-over. "White really suits you," he commented with a grin.

"Thank you. Shall we leave?" Donovan replied.

Leon hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Actually, there's something I forgot to mention."

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Well... can you, uh, make yourself look like a ten-year-old?" Leon asked awkwardly.

"What?" Donovan's tone was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "Why?"

Leon's face turned red as he stammered, "Haha, well, you see..."

[Flashback]

At the royal mansion, Leon had bowed before King Edward III of the royal family.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you, Mr. Leon," King Edward said warmly.

"It is an honor to meet you again, Your Majesty," Leon replied, his tone respectful.

King Edward chuckled. "Raise your head, Leon. I cannot let the man who once saved my life bow to me."

Leon stood upright, his posture stiff. "Your Majesty, how may I serve you?"

The king's expression grew thoughtful. "The royal party is tomorrow, and as a noble, your presence is required."

Leon nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will attend."

Before he could continue, the king interjected. "And... bring your son. I hear he's around ten years old?"

Leon's face froze. "B-But, Your Majesty, he's not-"

"Yes, yes, I understand. My daughter Amara has grown... difficult. Perhaps meeting your son might humble her a bit."

Leon sighed deeply, his inner monologue grim. "I want to kill myself."

[End of Flashback]

Leon continued his attempts to persuade Donovan, his voice tinged with desperation. Donovan eventually sighed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face.

"Fine, fine. I'll do it," Donovan said with a resigned tone, his cold demeanor briefly softening. "But if you tell anyone else about this, you'll regret it in ways you can't imagine."

Leon swallowed hard, visibly nervous. "Y-Yes, sir. Of course. Not a word!"

Donovan snapped his fingers, and a ripple of power surrounded his form. His body began to shrink, becoming more youthful and childlike, his sharp features softening into a more innocent appearance. Despite the transformation, his frame still carried an unmistakable strength, with muscles well-defined for his new age.

"Happy now?" Donovan asked, his voice now lighter but still tinged with a sense of authority.

Luna's eyes lit up with excitement as she saw Donovan's transformed appearance. She let out a squeal and darted forward, sweeping him up into her arms as if he weighed nothing.

"You look so cute, Donovan!" Luna exclaimed, spinning him around and pressing his face into her chest in a suffocating hug. Her eyes sparkled like a sky full of stars as she grinned down at him.

Angelita, standing nearby, couldn't resist joining in. Her own eyes shone with adoration as she rushed to her mother's side, gently stroking Donovan's hair.

"He's so adorable! Look at his little face!" Angelita cooed, her hands fussing over his hair like he was a prized doll.

Donovan sighed internally, his expression deadpan as he thought, "This is exactly why I avoid transformations like this."

After some time, the group finally left Leon's mansion and climbed into a luxurious black car. The interior was lined with fine leather and polished gold accents, and the soft hum of the engine was almost imperceptible. They made their way through the city streets toward the royal palace.

Upon arrival, the grandeur of the royal palace greeted them. Its towering spires reached for the heavens, adorned with gold-plated statues and banners that fluttered gently in the breeze. Servants lined the steps leading to the massive entrance, their uniforms pristine as they awaited guests.

One servant quickly stepped forward, bowing low as he opened the car door for Leon. "Welcome to the royal palace, Mr. Leon," the servant said respectfully, ushering them toward the entrance.

Donovan stepped out of the car, his childlike form drawing curious glances from the servants. Angelita and Luna followed closely behind, the latter fussing over Donovan's suit and making sure it was perfectly adjusted.

The grand hall of the palace was an awe-inspiring sight, its towering ceilings adorned with intricate murals depicting scenes of heroism and divine providence. Chandeliers made of pure crystal hung like frozen rain, casting a warm glow over the gathered dignitaries. Members of the royal family, along with other nobles and their children, filled the space, each dressed in their finest attire.

As they entered, the sound of conversation hushed, and all eyes turned toward the newcomers. A ripple of recognition passed through the crowd as they noticed Leon and his family. Whispers and murmurs of admiration spread quickly.

Then, with an air of regal authority, King Edward III entered the hall and took his place on the throne. His emerald-green eyes scanned the crowd, exuding both warmth and power. As the king sat, everyone in the hall—nobles, servants, and guests alike—immediately bowed deeply in respect.

Leon, Angelita, and Luna followed suit, lowering their heads. However, Donovan remained standing tall, his piercing yellow eyes fixed on the king without a hint of deference.

Leon glanced sideways, his voice a sharp whisper. "Donovan, bow to the king. Show some respect!"

Donovan's gaze didn't waver as he replied, his voice calm but firm. "I don't bow to anyone. Respect is earned, not demanded."

The room fell eerily silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

King Edward rose from his throne, his imposing figure emanating an undeniable presence. His emerald eyes locked onto Donovan, and with a subtle motion, he unleashed a wave of unseen energy.

The force pressed down on the crowd like a tidal wave, driving their heads even lower. The marble floor beneath them cracked and groaned under the immense pressure. Yet, Donovan stood unfazed, the force dissipating harmlessly around him. Even Leon, Angelita, and Luna, though shielded by Donovan's aura, felt the pressure as a faint tremor in their bodies.

A deep, resonant laugh echoed through the hall as King Edward stepped forward, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. "Welcome, Leon," the king said, his voice commanding yet warm. His gaze shifted to Donovan, his smile widening. "And welcome to your... interesting son."

As the pressure lifted, the gathered nobles straightened themselves, some sneaking glances at Donovan with a mixture of awe and confusion. Whispers filled the hall as they speculated about the boy who had not only defied the king's will but seemed wholly unaffected by his power.

"It seems," Donovan said with a faint smirk, "that the Leon family is quite famous."

After some time, a servant escorted him to a room where the young nobles were gathered. As Donovan entered, his cold, yellow eyes scanned the lavishly decorated chamber. Boys and girls, dressed in their finest attire, mingled and chatted, their laughter filling the air. Even Princess Amara, perched on a small throne, glanced his way. Around her, a group of eager young men vied for her attention, their sycophantic smiles betraying their ambitions.

Donovan, unbothered by the gazes directed at him, walked to an empty chair. Without a word, he sat, pulled out a leather-bound book, and began reading, shutting out the noise around him.

The room hummed with conversation, but soon, Donovan's indifference caught the attention of Princess Amara. With a sly smile, she rose from her throne, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity. The murmurs of the room quieted as she approached Donovan and seated herself beside him.

"So you are the one who dared to defy my father's will and power," she said, her tone a mix of challenge and intrigue.

Donovan didn't look up. Instead, he reached into his pocket, retrieved a pen, and began jotting notes in the margins of his book. His thoughts drifted as he analyzed his surroundings. "This chapter's plot is painfully predictable. The author must have written at least five alternate scenarios. No matter. I'll pick the best one."

Amara's smile faltered as her words failed to elicit a response. Irritated, she stood, picked up a glass of juice from a nearby table, and returned to Donovan's side. "So you won't respond? Well, bear the consequences," she said smugly.

She tipped the glass, pouring its contents over Donovan's head. Laughter erupted from the room, the nobles whispering behind their hands as they reveled in the spectacle.

Slowly, Donovan lifted his head. His yellow eyes locked onto Amara's, their empty depths unnerving her. Her laughter caught in her throat, and she stumbled back, clutching her head as a piercing scream escaped her lips. The room fell silent, terror etched on every face.

With a snap of his fingers, Donovan ended her torment. Amara collapsed, gasping, her once-proud demeanor shattered. Donovan stood, retrieved an empty cup, and casually gestured. The spilled juice lifted from his clothes and hair, reforming in the cup. He took a sip, unperturbed.

The nobles stared in stunned silence. Amara, regaining her composure, glared at Donovan. "How dare you humiliate me, the princess!"

Donovan's gaze remained impassive. "Perhaps you should reflect on your actions before challenging others."

Fury overtook Amara, and she unleashed a wave of energy so powerful it cracked the room's walls. But as the aura surged toward Donovan, a sliver of his black aura emerged, effortlessly consuming her attack.

"W-What!? How!?" Amara stammered, her confidence crumbling.

Before she could react further, the lights in the room flickered and died. Darkness enveloped the space, and panicked screams erupted. Amid the chaos, a hand covered Amara's mouth, and she was whisked away.

When the lights returned, the room was in disarray. The nobles, shaken, realized the princess was missing. Alarmed, they alerted the guards and sent word to the king.

Meanwhile, Amara awoke hours later in a damp, musty barn. Straw and rodents littered the floor, and the air reeked of decay. Two men stood nearby, leering at her.

"We'll make a fortune with you, my dear princess," one sneered.

"The smell of money is intoxicating," the other added, though he wrinkled his nose. "Or maybe it's just the barn."

The two laughed and left her alone. Amara closed her eyes, her golden hair shimmering faintly. She racked her brain for an escape plan, but the ropes binding her nullified her abilities.

"There's no hope," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Why does everyone see me only as a prize? I just want to go home."

A voice cut through her despair. "Giving up already? That's disappointing."

Her head snapped toward the sound. Donovan sat beside her, his expression unreadable.

"H-How did you get here?" she stammered, startled.

"That's irrelevant. Let's get you out of here," Donovan replied.

"You can't! These ropes are S-class. They're unbreakable!"

Donovan grasped the ropes, and with a simple tug, they disintegrated into dust.

Amara's jaw dropped. "T-That's impossible!"

Without a word, Donovan lifted her into his arms and leapt through the barn's roof. Time seemed to slow as moonlight bathed his form, his yellow eyes glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. Amara's heart skipped a beat as she gazed at him.

Donovan landed gracefully and set her down. "Do you want to see fireworks?"

"Fireworks?" she echoed, puzzled.

With a snap of his fingers, the barn exploded in a dazzling display of light and color. The night sky lit up with vivid patterns, each more intricate than the last. Amara watched in awe, her earlier fear replaced by wonder. She stole a glance at Donovan, who observed the fireworks with quiet intensity.

"Maybe... maybe it wouldn't hurt to trust someone again, she thought. Maybe even more than trust..." Amara said in her mind

Donovan returned her to the palace, where the royal family greeted them with tears of relief. The king and queen thanked Donovan profusely, their gratitude boundless. Amara, enveloped in her parents' embrace, felt her fear melt away.

As she glanced at Donovan from the corner of her eye, a faint blush dusted her cheeks. "I know what I want now."