Greetings, loyal subjects and readers alike. The Sorcerer King Ainz, influenced by the wisdom of Kugane Maruyama, stands before you once more. However, be warned, for this tale diverges from the path you might anticipate. I have ventured beyond the familiar and crafted a narrative imbued with my own sorcerous touch.
You will find in these pages a portrayal of our revered Momonga that deviates from the norm. Envision him not as the undead overlord you know, but as the formidable Angel of Death. Consider this an experimental tale, a single shot of fantasy.
Should this narrative resonate with many, the possibility of its continuation lies on the horizon. But for now, immerse yourself in the chronicle of Momonga: Rebirth of the Angel of Death.
Let the story unfold!
The neon signs and streetlights glowed faintly as Satoru made his way home, exhaustion evident in every movement. His eyelids felt heavy, weighed down by the 48 hours of relentless work.
The rhythmic hum of the car's engine was the only sound that accompanied his thoughts. The road seemed endless, a reflection of the grueling hours he'd just put in.
His mind began to drift, and he found himself thinking about Yggdrasill.
The game had been his escape, his sanctuary. It wasn't just the game he missed, but the camaraderie, the bonds he'd forged.
Tabula and Peroroncino weren't just guildmates; they were his brothers-in-arms, his confidants.
The day Yggdrasill shut down was a day that left an emptiness in his heart, a void that the real world couldn't fill.
Satoru could still vividly remember the final moments in the game, the last sunset they watched together, the melancholic music that played, and the promises they made to
meet again someday, in another world perhaps.
The trio, standing side by side, watching the world they loved fade away.
"We'll always have Yggdrasill," Peroroncino had said, trying to lighten the mood, but the tears in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.
Lost in his memories, Satoru's grip on the steering wheel loosened. The fatigue was catching up, blurring the lines between reality and memories.
A sudden bright light, an oncoming vehicle, and the piercing sound of tires screeching pulled him back to reality. But it was too late.
Metal clashed against metal in a violent dance, the world spinning around him. The deafening sound of the crash was juxtaposed with an eerie silence that followed.
The world seemed to move in slow motion, shattered glass flying everywhere, reflecting the streetlights in a million different ways.
Amidst the chaos, Satoru's smartwatch sprang to life, its automated system immediately dialing the emergency number.
The glowing screen, now stained with his blood, displayed the words: "Calling Emergency Services Please Remain Calm."
A surge of anger welled up within Satoru. With a frustrated growl, he ripped the smartwatch from his wrist and hurled it into the darkness.
The cold metal collided with the wet asphalt, its screen flickering briefly before going dark.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Satoru managed to pry the mangled car door open and stumbled out.
The rain, which had started as a light drizzle, now poured down in torrents, soaking him within seconds.
Each drop felt cold and sharp against his skin, mirroring the turmoil within him.
He staggered to the sidewalk, the weight of his exhaustion now coupled with the weight of the accident.
The world around him seemed muffled, the rain drowning out the distant sirens and the sounds of the city.
Pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he took one and placed it between his lips.
Striking a match, the flame danced briefly in the rain before he managed to light his cigarette.
He took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs, momentarily numbing the pain.
Looking up at the dark, rain-filled sky, he exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it mix with the raindrops.
The taste of nicotine and the rain-soaked air was bitter on his tongue. "Just my luck," he muttered to himself, the weight of the day's events pressing down on him.
His eyes, shadowed with fatigue and stress, reflected the cold glow of the city lights as he tried to come to terms with the chaotic turn his life had just taken.
Momonga took another deep drag from the cigarette, the warmth of the smoke contrasting sharply with the cold rain.
As he exhaled, the world around him began to blur, and a faint buzzing filled his ears.
The sounds of the city, the rain, and even his own heartbeat began to fade, replaced by distant, echoing voices.
From the depths of his memories, the melancholic melody of "Slow Dancing In the Dark" by Joji began to play.
It was his favorite song from 2018 the year that He thought caused the downfall of what is now Tokyo and the rest of the world but that track always brought a sense of
tranquility amidst chaos.
He could recall the soothing tones, the haunting lyrics, and the feelings it evoked. Without realizing, he began to hum, his voice low and raspy, "In the dark, dark... Slow dancing in the dark, dark..."
His thoughts wandered back to Yggdrasill.
"They should've remastered it," he murmured, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
The game had been a significant part of his life, a world where he could be more than just Satoru, where he could be powerful, influential, revered.
It was an escape from the mundane, a place where he had purpose, where he mattered.
As his consciousness slipped further away, the memories of his time as Momonga, the Angel Of Death in Yggdrasill, came flooding back.
Images of epic battles, intricate strategies, and the allies he led flashed before him.
The countless hours he had poured into the game, the challenges he had overcome, the legacy he had built.
That world, that identity, was something he had been proud of, something he missed deeply.
Everything began to fade, the rain, the lights, even the pain.
His last coherent thought was a reflection on his achievements, the empire he built, and the legend he became as Momonga.
The Angel Of Death's legacy would forever be etched in the annals of Yggdrasill.
Momonga slowly regained consciousness, his senses momentarily overwhelmed.
The room around him was bathed in a warm, golden light, reflecting off intricately carved walls and luxurious drapes.
The scent of rare incense filled the air, mingling with a hint of something more arcane.
His vision was blurry, a hazy fog that refused to lift immediately. As his eyes struggled to adjust, he could make out the silhouettes of eight figures standing around him.
Animated murmurs and exclamations filled the room, their tones a mixture of shock and immense relief. The words were muffled, indistinct, like trying to listen underwater.
As the fog of confusion began to lift, two familiar faces came into sharp focus.
One was the mischievous, playful face of Lupusregina Beta, her reddish-brown hair flowing behind her and her characteristic wolf ears perked in alertness.
Her yellow eyes, filled with surprise, stared intently at him. Beside her stood Albedo, the Overseer Guardian of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.
Her pure white skin contrasted beautifully with her jet-black wings and long, flowing raven-black hair.
Her golden eyes, usually so composed, now shimmered with a mix of confusion and hope.
Albedo's gaze never wavered from Momonga, her lips parting to call out, "Demiurge!"
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward, the intelligence in his eyes immediately recognizable. Demiurge, with his sharp features, was the very embodiment of cunning.
His diamond eyes locked onto Momonga, a mix of reverence and curiosity evident in their depths.
As the moments ticked by, the fog in Momonga's mind cleared further, allowing him to recognize the beings in the room.
They were the Floor Guardians from the Great Tomb of Nazarick, each with their unique features, standing in a semi-circle around him.
The realization sent a jolt through him, and without a second thought, he leapt out of bed.
The room fell into a stunned silence as Momonga spread his dark velvet wings wide, their majestic span casting a shadow across the chamber.
The elegance and power radiating from him were palpable, and the guardians could only watch in awe.
Demiurge, ever the strategist and quick to react, immediately dropped to his knees, bowing his head in deep reverence.
"Lord Momonga," he murmured, his voice filled with respect and loyalty.
One by one, the other guardians followed suit, their actions a testament to their unwavering loyalty.
Confusion clouded Momonga's mind. Why were they here? Why was he here? Memories of the accident, the rain, the cigarette, and the voices flooded back.
A chilling realization dawned upon him: he had died in his previous world, and now he was here, in the Great Tomb of Nazarick. But this wasn't the game; it felt real, far too real.
"Rise," he commanded, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. As the guardians stood, he approached each one, embracing them.
The touch, the warmth of it, was foreign to them.
They had never experienced such an intimate gesture from their lord. Each embrace was met with shock, but it was soon replaced by awe and gratitude.
Their supreme leader, the one they revered, was showing them a side they had never seen.
With the greetings done, a weight seemed to press down on Momonga's shoulders.
Where were they? Was this still the world of Yggdrasill, or had they been transported somewhere else?
"We need to ascertain our current location," Momonga declared, his voice firm. "Put Nazarick on high alert. I want no one entering or leaving without my express permission."
Without waiting for a response, he continued, "Dispatch the shadow demons. I want them to survey the land at least 5 miles from the First Floor. Report back as soon as they have information."
His commands were met with nods of agreement and words of affirmation. The guardians sprung into action, each with their designated tasks.
However, the weight of the situation, the overwhelming emotions, and the physical exertion soon caught up with Momonga.
His strength waned, and he collapsed to his knees, the world once again fading to black.
The room was filled with chaos and panic as the guardians rushed forward, their voices a chorus of worry and fear.
Albedo, who had been in a state of temporary shock, was caught off guard.
Lupusregina, ever the energetic and emotional Maid, reacted quickly. She darted forward, catching Momonga just in time to prevent him from collapsing onto the floor.
Tears welled up in Lupusregina's eyes as she held her lord, her voice quivering with a mix of relief and distress.
"Lord Momonga! Please wake up! Don't Leave us again!"
Her grip on him tightened, and she buried her face against his shoulder, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
Momonts later Momonga's consciousness slowly returned, and he found himself cradled in Lupusregina's arms.
The chaos and panic that had surrounded him earlier were replaced by a deep sense of gratitude.
His guardians, his loyal subjects, had been genuinely worried about his well-being.
Gently, he patted Lupusregina's back, trying to offer some comfort. "I apologize, Lupusregina. I didn't mean to worry you or anyone present ," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.
The other guardians, who had been in various states of distress, now sighed with relief. Demiurge, Now visibly relaxed but still alert, nodded in acknowledgment.
Albedo's temporary shock began to fade, and she wiped away her tears, her expression regaining its composure.
With his strength slowly returning, Momonga realized another pressing matter.
"I must admit, I am quite hungry," he admitted with a faint smile. "Lupusregina, would you be so kind as to assist me to the mess hall?"
Lupusregina's tears of distress transformed into tears of joy as she nodded vigorously.
"Of course, Lord Momonga! It would be my honor!" She helped him to his feet, her relief palpable.
Turning to the other guardians, Momonga issued his next set of commands.
"Prepare for a full meeting with the citizens of Nazarick in the throne room. I have much to discuss, and we must ensure that our beloved home is in order."
The guardians, their expressions filled with determination, nodded in unison.
Time? 3:15 AM , proofread? No , Posting baller style? Yes! Will I regret this and get hounded by the mistakes I made while High?
110%! , as mentioned above if this gets enough love I will continue it un my own unique story by including my own ideas andreviews left by readers! Could put an awesome spin on things!