My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 957: Tracking down Azrael’s origins

Lucifer’s voice softened with a mocking sorrow. "But Barbara raised you like a mother. She refused to return you. She refused to let them take you away."

Azrael’s breath hitched.

"Then she married Val." Lucifer’s angelic wings twitched. "He was from a powerful family with influence on Gaia, and he possessed the treasure that sealed my power. He had many Arcana Masters loyal to him."

Lucifer paused, letting the pieces fall into place.

"So the Death Clan automatically assumed Barbara intended to rebel, and Val supported her rebellion. At the same time, Val or his family isn’t ready to give up the treasure even after they threatened them. If we use force or kill before, it will bring unnecessary rebellion for true. So, they waited until Barbara and Val’s entire family gathered. They waited until everyone let down their guard. Once they got the opportunity, they would take out Val’s entire family, capture Barbara, get the treasure, and you." He tilted his head. "Doesn’t that match exactly what you saw, Azrael?"

Azrael staggered backward, eyes widening. He nodded like a chicken.

"And the fact no one came for you all these years..." Lucifer spread his hands sadly. "Your parents likely died. Perhaps killed in the same political struggle or because of the scandal."

Azrael felt something crumble inside his chest.

Lucifer stepped closer, gentle and persuasive. "Now you stand alone without any protection or family and filled with intense hatred for the clan. Not only did you get away back then, but you also merged with my essence. So, your elder brother, who may have been part of that conspiracy, had no choice but to approach you first with a ridiculous story about timelines."

Azrael swallowed hard. He suddenly remembered how Azzy collected his blood.

Lucifer chuckled low. "He must have confirmed your bloodline, then fabricated the rest."

Azrael’s breathing turned heavier. "But... why lie? Why not tell the truth?"

Lucifer couldn’t resist a smirk. "Because if he is truly the one responsible for killing your family, why would he admit anything?" He raised a brow. "Why would he risk losing your trust? Or being seen as a criminal by the world? He is the leader of the Clan of Death. He is a demigod. His fame is more important than anything."

The words slithered into Azrael’s mind like threads tightening around his thoughts.

Lucifer lowered his voice. "He needs you and me. That’s why he’s pretending to be kind. Pretending to care."

Azrael trembled, anger rising like boiling water. "Damn it... DAMN IT... how dare he make a fool out of me?"

Lucifer smiled—the kind of smile one gives an obedient pawn. "Exactly. He fooled you with nonsense because he couldn’t risk telling the truth."

Then Lucifer snapped his fingers lightly, shifting the topic before Azrael’s logic could catch up.

"And consider this," he whispered. "The assassin—Avia. She tried to talk your aunt out of it. You never saw Barbara die."

Azrael froze.

"The clan might have been captured," Lucifer said. "You know why? Because you have disappeared for years. They might have been torturing her to learn where she sent you."

Azrael’s eyes reddened in anger. Lucifer let out a sigh and placed a hand on his shoulder, "So here is what you must do. Cooperate with him. Pretend to trust him. Use his resources. Grow stronger. Reach the demigod realm. And when you are ready..."

He leaned in, golden eyes burning.

"ake revenge on them all."

Azrael’s breath shook. His fists tightened.

He breathed slowly, calming himself as Lucifer’s words sank deeper into his mind. The devil’s smile sharpened with the satisfaction of a man who had nudged a chess piece exactly where he wanted it.

"Good," Lucifer said smoothly. "Then listen carefully... There is someone else in this place. Find where he is sealed. It’s only an avatar, nothing more than a fragment, but if you absorb his essence, your demonic powers will grow stronger and you gain the ability to control metal."

Azrael nodded, expression colder. "I understand."

*

In a Forgotten Clearing, Far From All Worlds

Azzy wasn’t aware of the danger unfolding inside Azrael’s mind. He was leagues away, standing in a barren wasteland where nothing grew, nothing breathed. Above him, the sky was a dull gray.

Floating before him was an ancient hourglass, suspended in midair. Sand flowed slowly inside it.

He sat cross-legged beneath it, raising both hands.

Divine energy spiraled from his fingers, forming glowing strings that wrapped around the hourglass like a cocoon. The wind around him shifted, turning colder.

His eyes turned pitch black with no visible pupils.

"Tempus..." Azzy whispered, voice echoing through the empty field. "Help me... help me find the timeline I seek..."

The hourglass vibrated softly. Tempus’s voice echoed: "There are infinite timelines destroyed, Master."

Azzy’s jaw tightened. "But not many timelines where I wasn’t the Reaper’s successor."

The hourglass pulsed with a brighter glow, reacting to his logic.

Tempus replied, slower this time. "That is impossible. You are the Angel of Death, Master. You were fated to be the Reaper’s successor. In every reality, only you can inherit the Reaper."

Azzy gritted his teeth. "Then how did he—Azrael—exist without any trace of the Reaper? How did he grow up normally?"

Tempus hesitated. "In this timeline, you went through multiple reincarnations. A few of them did not carry the Reaper’s power. He could be one of the variants of his timeline, too."

Azzy shook his head immediately. "No. It doesn’t match. We share the same DNA. The same parents. Even the same acquaintances. If he were me... then he should have had the Reaper’s power too. But something happened. Something that blocked it."

The hourglass flickered uncertainly.

Before Tempus could respond, another voice entered Azzy’s mind.

Soft. Familiar. Worn with fatigue.

"What if he was an avatar... and not the real one?"

Azzy’s entire body froze. "Claire?"

There was a faint sigh through the link. "I’m here... but don’t come into the mindscape. It costs too much energy to meet you in spirit form."

Azzy’s throat tightened. "Claire... what did you mean by avatar?"

Claire answered immediately, "Azzy, there are two types of avatars," she said. "One is simple—it’s just an extension of your will. A projection. The other is far more complex. It separates an individual’s essence and soul, then allows that fragment to be born separately as an independent life."

Azzy’s breath hitched. "Like another version of me."

"Exactly. Fiona was the same," Claire added softly. "She was an avatar created from the goddess of Snow, Chione. But only a god can create that type of avatar. Which means... You must search for a timeline where you became a God by the year 2025."

Azzy’s heart slammed in his chest.

Claire continued, voice thinning as if fading fast. "I’m certain it’s the timeline where you didn’t return to the present... but lived through the past. It’s the only possibility."

His breath grew shallow.

Claire whispered, "That timeline... is where your godhood was born. That’s where your avatar came from."

And then—

The connection cut abruptly...

Azzy reached for Claire again, desperate to hold onto even a thread of her fading voice. "Claire—wait. Don’t cut the link yet. Tell me more—Claire? Claire!"

But the mindscape stayed silent.

Claire’s presence vanished like a candle blown out in pitch dark, leaving no trace of warmth behind.

Azzy exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. He wanted to call her again, to force the connection open—but he knew Claire was right. Forcing her to speak now would drain what little strength she had left.

So he turned back to the only other source of truth.

The hourglass.

He raised both hands again, letting divine strings expand from his fingertips. They wrapped around the hourglass like layers of glowing threads.

"You heard her," Azzy said quietly. His eyes darkened again, drowning in a pitch-black void. "There must be a timeline... a reality... where I became a god before the year 2025."

The hourglass shook.

Inside it, the white sand began to glow—brighter, brighter—until it looked like burning stars trapped in glass.

A few moments passed before a voice echoed from inside the hourglass—metallic, cold, ancient.

Tempus spoke: "Yes. There is exactly one timeline where this event took place."

Azzy’s breath caught. "Then show me. Guide me to it."

Tempus paused.

Then answered, "No. I cannot guide you to it, because it is not destroyed."

Azzy jerked back in disbelief. "What? That’s impossible. I’m already living in the prime timeline. Any other timeline is just a destroyed timeline."

A faint pulse of golden light flickered through the hourglass.

Tempus replied slowly, as if choosing every word carefully. "It did collapse, Master. But the one who destroyed is your variant of the same timeline."

Azzy felt a cold chill run through his spine. "What?"

Tempus answered: "In an ascension to Godhood, he fractured the timeline, causing the destruction of the entire universe. In his last desperate attempt, he used his powers to take away Planet Gaia to a different place outside time as the rest of the universe collapsed."

Azzy felt the hairs on his arms rise. "Destroyed the entire universe?"

Tempus answered, "According to the memories of the timeline and the guardian of the time, he took away the planet with him to the forbidden dimension, which exists outside space and time, and created a new timeline inside it using his own body as the vessel. Then, he split a part of his soul to create his avatar, which was born on the same day as you, so that his existence is retained."

Azzy’s heart skipped a beat. "Forbidden dimension? You mean the dimension of the Protos race?"

The hourglass glowed with confirmation. "Yes, Master."

Azzy stared at the hourglass, realization spreading through him like wildfire.