I Just Wanted to Be Nice, But Now I Have a Harem

"Hmm…" The low, contemplative sound echoed in the silent expanse as an ancient soul stirred. Dormant for eras, epochs, and eons, he awoke, his eyes opening to a world changed beyond recognition. In an instant, his divine sense swept across the multiverse, probing every corner, wary of what he might find in the aftermath of his slumber.

To his surprise, a quiet smile touched his lips as he took in the remnants of his victory. "I won. We won," he murmured softly, his voice a ghostly whisper in the void. The realization brought him no joy, only a deep and aching sadness. He had won, yes, but at a cost almost too high to bear. Friends, comrades, and family who had stood beside him in ages past were gone, their presences now nothing more than lingering echoes in his memory.

Closing his eyes, he sighed—a sound heavy with the weight of countless millennia. For a long moment, he allowed himself to feel the hollowness, the loneliness that gnawed at the edges of his spirit. But he would not permit himself to be consumed by grief. To linger too long in mourning would be the greatest disrespect to those who had sacrificed their lives in that final, desperate stand.

Rising to his feet, the ancient one reached into the depths of his power, drawing on energies that had shaped worlds and molded stars. With a gesture, he began to weave stone from the fabric of reality itself, creating a solemn memorial in a place untouched by time.

Slowly, meticulously, he inscribed each name, each soul who had stood bravely beside him. Warriors, scholars, healers—those who had once been ordinary but had risen to meet the darkness with courage and strength. Their names shimmered across the endless rows of tombstones, a testament to their bravery, to lives cut short but not forgotten.

As he stood before the silent memorial, he felt a faint flicker of warmth. He was no longer alone; in this sacred place, they were with him, immortalized in stone and memory. Though the ache of their absence remained, he could finally let go of the sorrow that had weighed so heavily on his heart.

And in that stillness, beneath the countless stars, he vowed to honor them not with grief, but with the life they had entrusted him to protect. For the fallen, for those he had loved, he would live—until the end of time itself.

"It's time to go," he murmured, the words carrying a finality that echoed through the stillness of the place. For nearly a million years, he had labored over this sacred task, carving the names of the fallen into stone, each one a tribute to a life that had been extinguished in the great battle. 

His hands had never wavered, working with infinite patience and care. Every name, every line, was engraved with precision, each letter imbued with the weight of memory and the respect they deserved.

For ages, he had remained here, alone in this vast, silent expanse, surrounded by the tombstones of the brave souls who had fought alongside him. He had taken his time, refusing to rush, for he knew this was the last gift he could offer them. 

They deserved nothing less than perfection. Each name told a story of sacrifice, of courage, of lives cut short in the pursuit of a better future. It was a history etched into stone, meant to endure for all eternity.

And now, at last, it was done. His heart, heavy with both sorrow and peace, knew it was time to move on. There was nothing more he could give here.

With a deep breath, he stood amidst the rows of names one last time, his gaze lingering on the final stone he had carved. He ran his fingers over the cool surface, as if saying a silent farewell. Then, with a blink of his eyes, he vanished.

The graveyard, now sealed from the rest of existence, would remain here, untouched and unseen by any other. This place, known only to him, would stand as a monument to their bravery—a testament to those who had given everything. 

It would be a place of eternal rest, locked away in the folds of time, preserved until the end of the universe itself.

And as he moved on, the weight of the past still clung to him, but he carried with him the resolve to live for the future they had fought so hard to secure. Though their names would remain here, engraved forever, their legacy lived on in him.