One Punch Man: Ascendancy of the Devourer

Azar stood in an unfamiliar void, an endless expanse of darkness tinged with faint starlight. He blinked, still feeling the last pulse of his heart from his previous life, a strange echo that reverberated through his chest. The memory of his death was hazy, fragments piecing together an image of betrayal, of searing pain, and finally, a creeping coldness overtaking him. Yet here he was, feeling more alive than he had in years, standing tall and whole.

"Quite the unfortunate end, don't you think?"

A smooth, almost amused voice echoed through the emptiness, breaking the silence. Azar spun around, his eyes narrowing, and found himself facing a figure that seemed to blend in with the darkness, as though it were part of it. The figure's face was obscured, but two golden eyes gleamed, radiating a mischievous curiosity.

"Who are you?" Azar asked, his voice steady but with a hint of defiance. If this was some afterlife or purgatory, he wasn't about to let anyone—even a mysterious figure with godlike eyes—see him rattled.

"Me? Oh, I suppose you could call me... God." The figure's mouth curled into a grin, revealing perfectly white teeth that glowed in the dim light. "I oversee all, orchestrate the fates, and meddle in the lives of men when I find them... entertaining."

Azar raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "So, what's this about, God? You pull me out of the grave to lecture me?"

"Lecture? No, no. Quite the opposite. I saw your death and thought, 'What a waste.' Someone with such tenacity, strength, and ambition, gone just like that? It hardly seems fair, don't you think?"

Azar's eyes sharpened. "Fair? Since when do gods worry about fairness?"

"Touché," God said, chuckling. "I don't, typically. But you—you're interesting. A man who sought power for the sake of strength itself, not bound by ideals or shackles of heroism. You could be fun to watch in a different world, with different tools."

Azar's scowl softened as curiosity crept in. "So what are you offering?"

God clapped his hands, and with a flash, a massive wheel appeared, hovering between them. The wheel was divided into countless glowing sections, each marked with strange symbols and inscriptions in languages Azar didn't recognize. A myriad of colors danced across it, almost hypnotic in their allure.

"One spin," God said, gesturing grandly. "This wheel will decide the powers you receive in your next life. Think of it as a... cosmic lottery."

Azar smirked, his defiant eyes gleaming with newfound excitement. "So, you're giving me a second shot at life?"

"Precisely. Though you won't remember much about our little encounter," God replied, a sly glint in his eyes. "Consider it a blank slate, with a new world to conquer."

Azar stepped closer to the wheel, glancing at the strange symbols with a calculating gaze. Each section hinted at unimaginable abilities: powers of destruction, creation, manipulation of time and space. Yet one section caught his eye—a dark and pulsing area labeled simply, Law of Devouring. It radiated an aura that felt almost... primal, a promise of unending strength and dominance.

"Interesting," Azar muttered, but before he could dwell on it, God motioned to the wheel.

"Go on, then. Give it a spin."

With a final smirk, Azar reached out and gave the wheel a powerful spin. The colors blurred together as it whirred, faster and faster, becoming a spectrum of light that cast shadows even in the surrounding void. He waited, heart pounding in a way it hadn't since his last fight in life. This was it. Another shot at life, at power, at something bigger.

The wheel slowed, clicking as it passed each section, the tension thickening with every click. Finally, it began to slow near the section he'd noticed—Law of Devouring.

It stopped.

God's grin widened. "Well, well, well. The Law of Devouring. Quite the choice."

Azar felt a surge of power ripple through him, a raw and ancient force that sang to his very soul. He could feel its nature—power through consumption, the ability to absorb the essence of his enemies, to take what was theirs and make it his own. Strength without limits, power without end.

"Oh, you're going to have so much fun with that," God said, his voice almost giddy. "Now, one last detail."

Before Azar could react, another wheel appeared, smaller and less grand than the first, but equally strange. This one was adorned with images instead of symbols: faces, clothing styles, physical traits. God smirked as he gestured to it.

"Let's see what you'll look like in this new life."

The wheel spun on its own this time, and Azar watched as it cycled through various forms. After a few seconds, it settled on a familiar face—his own, but slightly altered. His rugged features, his confident smile, the tattoos winding down his arms and across his chest, the long hair tied back with a casual, roguish flair. In this vision, he wore a sleek suit with a sword strapped to his side, a look that screamed power and intimidation.

"Perfect," Azar said, grinning as he saw the reflection of himself. He'd look just like he always had—strong, capable, and unafraid.

"Then it's settled," God said, snapping his fingers. "You'll be reborn as... well, you. But I've got one final parting gift: a world to match your ambitions. Enjoy your new life, Azar."

The void around him began to blur, pulling him into a whirlpool of light and shadows, faster and faster until God's amused face faded from view. His last words echoed in Azar's mind, a lingering promise of the challenges—and conquests—that awaited him.

*

*

*

Azar blinked as light flooded his vision. He could feel the earth beneath him, the coolness of the morning breeze against his skin. Standing up, he felt the familiar weight of the sword at his side, the flex of his tattooed arms as he stretched. His body, despite being new, felt like his own—strong, solid, and ready.

Around him was a sprawling city, teeming with people, skyscrapers, and sounds he didn't quite recognize. Yet something about this place felt… electric. Charged with potential.

He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists as he felt the power within. The Law of Devouring hummed inside him, a promise of strength unlike anything he'd known before. In this world, he wasn't just a man—he was a predator, a force of nature.

And with a confident grin, he took his first steps into his new life, unaware of the heroes, monsters, and titans he'd soon encounter. But one thing was certain: whatever power he came across, he would devour it, adding it to his own, piece by piece.

Azar was back. And this time, he would rise to the top.