[Emperor POV] Year 0, Day 2 (While Null struggles with corsets)

  At the continent's northern extreme, the Imperial Palace sat carved into living mountain stone. The Great City—ancient capital of the Empire—spread beneath it in terraced grandeur. Its halls had witnessed seven thousand years of history, ten thousand years of secrets, and the slow decline of an empire that had once ruled the known world.

  In the deepest chamber, accessible only through warded passages and guarded doors, the Emperor lay dying.

  He had been dying for centuries. Preserved through magic, through alchemy, through sheer stubborn refusal to let death claim him before his work was complete. His body was barely more than dried parchment stretched over ancient bones, kept breathing through enchantments that should have failed years ago.

  But he endured. He had to. The Empire needed him. The knowledge he carried could not be allowed to die.

  He was over ten thousand years old. The oldest living being on the continent. Perhaps the oldest in the world.

  And he remembered everything.

  The chamber door burst open.

  Protocol dictated that no one entered the Emperor's private sanctum without permission. Anyone who violated that rule faced execution.

  But Grand Augur Meridian was running—actually running—his ceremonial robes billowing behind him, his face pale with shock and something that might have been excitement.

  The Emperor's eyes—the only part of him that still seemed truly alive—focused on the intruder.

  "Your Imperial Majesty!" Meridian's voice shook. "The Divine System—an announcement—it's impossible but—"

  "Speak clearly." The Emperor's voice was a whisper, but it carried absolute authority.

  Meridian stopped, breathing hard, visibly forcing himself to calm. "Your Majesty. Nearly a day ago, the Divine System made an announcement. A restricted-access announcement, detectable only by those with Oracle-class sensitivity or higher. It took time for our sensitives to recognize the significance, to verify what they'd detected. We've spent the last several hours investigating and confirming."

  "What announcement?"

  "The Isekai Protocol has been activated."

  Silence.

  The Emperor stared at him for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.

  "That's impossible."

  "Yes, Your Majesty. That was our first conclusion as well. But the System doesn't lie. The announcement was clear and verified by multiple independent sources. The Isekai Protocol—dormant for seven thousand two hundred and forty-seven years—has been triggered."

  The Emperor's ancient mind processed this. For three millennia, he had ruled an empire that spanned continents. For three thousand years, the gods had sent their chosen—reincarnations, souls blessed with divine power and foreign knowledge—to this world.

  And for three thousand years, the Empire had harvested them.

  One by one. Methodically. Carefully.

  The Empire would welcome each reincarnation with open arms. Promise them glory, purpose, power. Give them everything they desired while slowly, subtly, guiding them toward the Sacrifice Formation. And then...

  Then the harvest.

  Divine essence drained. Power extracted. Blessings stolen.

  The energy from dozens of reincarnations had fueled the Empire's golden age. Flying cities that touched the clouds. Enchantments that lasted millennia. Weapons that could shatter mountains. An army that conquered everything it touched.

  The Empire had been unstoppable.

  Until seven thousand years ago.

  Until one reincarnation escaped.

  The Emperor's expression darkened at the memory.

  "After what happened..." he said quietly. "After the one who got away... after Paradise... I thought the gods had sealed this world off permanently. That they'd declared it forbidden. That no soul would ever be sent here again."

  "Yes, Your Majesty. The Divine Child's wrath. The destruction of Paradise. The collapse of the Empire. We all believed the gods had abandoned this world entirely."

  The Divine Child. That's what the escaped reincarnation had become. So powerful, so enraged by what had been done to their predecessors, so blessed by gods who finally realized what the Empire had been doing...

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  They'd destroyed everything.

  Paradise—the Empire's heartland, three thousand years of carefully cultivated civilization—turned to desert in a single day. The flying cities crashed. The eternal enchantments shattered. The armies scattered.

  The Empire fell.

  And the gods turned away in disgust, swearing never to send another soul to this cursed world.

  "Why now?" the Emperor whispered. "Why send another after seven thousand years of silence?"

  "We don't know, Your Majesty. The System gave no explanation. Just the activation notification."

  "We sacrificed two Oracles to verify and gather information."

  The Emperor's eyes sharpened. Oracles were irreplaceable, each one worth more than entire cities. To sacrifice two meant this was being taken with absolute seriousness.

  "What did they learn?"

  "The activation is genuine. A soul has been transferred through the Isekai Protocol. The Oracles managed to pinpoint the arrival location before they expired from the strain of the query."

  "Where?"

  "Site 17."

  The Emperor went very still. "The Hidden Sanctuary."

  "Yes, Your Majesty. Site 17—the oasis in the heart of the Desert of Nothing. One of the old arrival points, maintained by preservation enchantments from the ancient protocols."

  The Emperor's mind raced. Site 17. One of the old arrival sites. Where reincarnations had appeared throughout the ages. Where they'd been welcomed, collected, brought to the capital. Before the harvest.

  "And now someone has appeared there. A reincarnation."

  For a long moment, the Emperor was silent. Then something that might have been a smile crossed his desiccated features.

  "Perhaps the gods have forgiven us. Or perhaps they've forgotten. Seven thousand years is a long time, even for divine beings." He drew a rattling breath. "Or perhaps... this one was sent by mistake. By a god who doesn't know our history."

  "Your Majesty, if this reincarnation discovers what we did—"

  "They won't. Not if we move quickly. Not if we're careful." The Emperor's voice grew stronger, animated by old, terrible hunger. "We know what reincarnations are. What they can do. What they're worth. We've done this before. We can do it again."

  "But the risk—if they become like the Divine Child—"

  "The Divine Child escaped because we grew complacent. Because we waited too long, gave them too much freedom, allowed them to grow too powerful before we attempted the harvest. We won't make that mistake again."

  Meridian's expression was carefully neutral.

  "Prepare the fastest airship in the fleet," the Emperor commanded. "Staff it with the Imperial Knights—the ones who remember the old protocols. Include translators who speak the languages of reincarnations. We still maintain those records, yes?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty. The Imperial Archives preserve everything. We have three translators fluent in what the ancient texts call 'Japanese' and two who speak 'English.'"

  "Send them all. The reincarnation must be made to feel welcome. Safe. Honored. Tell them..." The Emperor's smile widened. "Tell them the standard story. There's a Demon King threatening the world. They're the prophesied hero, sent by the gods to save us. That narrative always resonated with their kind—they expect it, even want it. Promise them power, respect, gratitude. Whatever they want to hear."

  "And once we have them?"

  "Bring them here. To the capital. With all honors, all ceremony, all the respect due a divine champion. They must suspect nothing until it's too late." The Emperor's voice dropped to a whisper. "And Meridian? Prepare the old Formation."

  The Grand Augur paled. "Your Majesty... the Sacrifice Formation? That hasn't been used since—"

  "Since seven thousand years ago. Since the last time. Since before Paradise burned." The Emperor's eyes gleamed with ancient memory. "I remember every detail, Meridian. Every rune. Every binding. Every scream. I helped design it myself when I was young and ambitious and thought I could drain the divine without consequence."

  "I was wrong about the consequences. But I was right about the power."

  "Your Majesty—"

  "The Formation still exists, yes? The chambers are maintained?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty. Preserved exactly as it was. Inactive, but ready. The knowledge of its operation has been passed down through the Grand Augurs. I know how to activate it."

  "Then prepare it. Discreetly. No one outside the Inner Circle can know. Once the reincarnation arrives and we've secured their complete trust, we move quickly. No delays. No chances for them to discover our intentions or grow too powerful. The moment they're vulnerable, we strike."

  "The Formation will disable their powers?"

  "Instantly and completely. It severs their connection to their divine patron, traps their essence in a containment matrix, and allows us to extract it over time. The process takes weeks—slow drainage to ensure we capture every fragment of power. By the time we're finished, there won't be anything left of them but an empty shell."

  The Emperor's voice grew distant, remembering. "The power from three millennia of reincarnations... that's what built our golden age. That's what made us gods among mortals. If we can harvest just one more... I could restore my youth. Extend my life another thousand years. And with that time, rebuild the Empire to its former glory."

  Meridian bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Majesty. I will make the preparations. The airship will depart within the hour. The Formation will be ready upon their arrival. The translators will be briefed on the recruitment approach."

  "Excellent. And Meridian?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty?"

  "Tell no one outside the Inner Circle. Not the nobles, not the military leadership, not our neighbors. If the Republic learns a reincarnation has appeared, they'll try to recruit them. If the Kingdom finds out, they'll try to protect them. If the Church discovers it, they'll try to control them. This is ours. The Empire's. Our secret. Our salvation. Understood?"

  "Perfectly, Your Majesty. Absolute secrecy."

  "Good. Now go. Every moment we delay is a moment they could discover what they are, what they can do, what danger they face. We must secure them before they become another Divine Child."

  Meridian bowed again and hurried from the chamber, his mind already racing through the logistics.

  Alone again, the Emperor lay back against his cushions. His ancient eyes stared at the ceiling, seeing not stone but memories.

  Ten thousand years of life. Three thousand years of golden age. Seven thousand years of slow decline.

  All because one reincarnation had escaped. Had learned the truth. Had become powerful enough to exact revenge.

  The Divine Child's fury had destroyed Paradise. Had shattered the Empire. Had forced the gods to seal this world away from their chosen.

  But now, impossibly, another chance.

  The Emperor smiled. A dry, terrible smile.

  They'd learned from their mistakes. They wouldn't be careless this time. They wouldn't let this one grow strong. They wouldn't give them time to discover the truth.

  This reincarnation would be welcomed, honored, trusted.

  And then harvested.

  Just like all the others.

  The Empire would rise again.

  No matter the cost.