A GOD'S WAY OF JUDGEMENT

Ronan's eyes snapped open with a guttural roar of pain and confusion. His voice echoed through the chamber, sending a chilling tremor through the air.

"WHY? WHY? WHY?" His killing intent surged like a tidal wave, overwhelming the room. The sheer force of his presence sent shivers down Celia and Gerald. The air thickened with his power, the temperature dropping noticeably as his overwhelming strength became all too apparent.

Celia and Gerald exchanged a glance, their instincts telling them they were in the presence of something far more dangerous than they could have imagined. His killing intent radiated from him like a dark aura, and they could feel the weight of his fury even without words.

Without warning, Ronan moved toward Celia, almost instantaneously, as if he had teleported. His eyes were covered in darkness, radiating a terrifying power. For a moment, he just stood there, glaring at her. Then, slowly, he shook his head, and his demeanor changed. His rage seemed to fade away, replaced by an eerie calmness.

"How many years have passed? Where are we? Where is Dante? What is the situation? What is my condition?" His voice was raw, the weight of the time lost settling in. His eyes searched Celia's face, but she stood frozen, still in shock.

Unable to respond, Celia's heart raced as a mix of emotions flooded her. It was then that Ronan, sensing the tension, called out: "Z, come here."

"Greetings, my lord," the AI's voice crackled through the room. "I come for your call, and I will now explain your condition."

Ronan's gaze remained focused; his expression serious. "What is the status of my heart?"

"The original heart was removed," Z replied in its calm, authoritative tone. "We have placed an artificial heart inside you. However, your power is now limited to 30%. If you exceed that, the heart will fail."

Ronan's jaw clenched, but his next question was cold and calculating. "Is it enough to kill Draven?"

The AI paused, analyzing the data before replying. "Yes, my lord. With the 30% limit, your power will be sufficient to engage Draven in battle. However, caution is advised."

Ronan nodded, but the thirst for revenge burned brighter within him.

"Did you contact Dante about the situation in Heaven?" he asked Celia.

Celia's eyes shifted, her expression a mixture of regret and sorrow. "Dante is now acting as the Prince of Heaven. Draven, of course, is the Lord of Heaven. Dante still doesn't know you've woken up. Let me contact him."

"Stop," Ronan interrupted. "Tell him I died because the heart couldn't hold me. That should keep him and Draven at bay for now."

Celia nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of his decision. She stepped aside to send the message, while Ronan turned to Z.

"What tasks have been given to me by the throne to judge this planet? There must be some condition that allows me to return to Heaven."

Z's voice came once more, cool and methodical. "There is a main task that states you must live on Earth for 20 years and judge the planet. You must also become famous—someone the Earth will fear hearing the name of. After 10 years, you may return to Heaven for one week."

Ronan's eyes hardened as he processed the information. "So, if I follow these tasks, I can return after a decade?"

"Yes, my lord. The tasks are designed to ensure your presence on Earth remains impactful while also keeping the balance between realms."

Ronan let out a low growl, his eyes dark with the promise of vengeance. He looked toward the AI, asking a final question. "Do I have everything I need to destroy Draven?"

Z responded firmly. "Yes, my lord. The conditions are favorable, but you must be strategic. Even though your strength is unparalleled, you must maintain control over your power to avoid endangering the artificial heart."

Ronan nodded; his gaze unwavering. He then turned to the others, his voice calm but filled with intent. "What is the current situation on Earth? How is it progressing?"

Z began to explain the world's history, current state, and key details on the wars and conflicts that had shaped the planet since his slumber. "Human weapons are increasingly advanced. However, no human weapon can threaten you. Even if you faced the entire world in battle, you could easily overpower them."

Ronan, still processing the information, asked, "How is my heart running? What keeps it functioning?"

Gerald, standing nearby, answered, "The heart is powered by electricity extracted from your body. We've been using it to charge the batteries that sustain the artificial heart. You'll need to replace the batteries once they reach 20%."

Ronan nodded. "Alright. Let's relax for now. I will begin constructing armor and weapons for myself. Are there any suitable materials in this Earth base?"

Gerald looked toward the storage facilities. "We have some raw materials, but they are primitive compared to what you're used to."

Ronan's gaze sharpened. "I need my suit—the one I wore before. Give it to me as a base to construct a new one."

Celia quickly retrieved the suit, handing it to Ronan. "It's all yours."

Ronan examined the suit, his mind already working through how to improve it, how to make it stronger, more suited to his needs. "I'll forge a new one. The material used in the original suit, Celestium, should give me the edge I need."

"Celestium," Gerald repeated, nodding in understanding. "A metal of incredible divine strength."

Ronan's eyes glowed with the cold, calculating fire of vengeance. "It will be stronger than ever before. Now, let's begin."

Using Celestium as the base, Ronan forged a new suit. It was sleek, black, and charged by the electric power capsule that replaced his original heart's energy. Diamond was added for defense, and the suit's design allowed it to change form depending on the situation. The power capsule also served as a charging station for the heart's batteries. The suit glowed with an ethereal blue light, a constant reminder of his power. He also crafted a weapon—a small rod that could transform into any weapon he desired.

Later, he called Celia and Gerald for a meeting.

"Do we have any company set up?" he asked.

Celia nodded. "I created a company focused on weapons manufacturing. In a world full of wars, it's been quite successful."

"Good. We need identities," Ronan said. "One for me, and one for Gerald. Gerald, you'll work as a doctor in the hospital the company owns. I'll be listed as a patient when needed. And I'll need control over the company's administration."

Celia agreed, understanding the importance of keeping Ronan's true identity hidden. "I'll take care of it," she said.

As they finalized the plans, Celia looked at Ronan. Her voice softened. "How do you feel about all this?"

Ronan paused, his expression darkening. "It's true that I was happy before the attempt on my family, but now... I feel empty. I watched them die in front of me. I lived without trouble since childhood, but this… this is the first time I've faced something like this. I'm not sure what to do."

Celia listened quietly as Ronan continued, his tone growing colder. "The only thing that kept me alive was my thirst for revenge. Even when my heart was torn away, that desire kept pushing me forward. Now, I have a purpose. I'll first finish the revenge, and then I'll finish my dream of ascending the throne. The plan is simple: complete the secondary task, go to Heaven, kill Draven, return, finish judging this world, and ascend."

Celia felt the weight of his words, knowing that she could no longer provide the emotional support he needed. Ronan stood tall, his voice cold and determined. "Let the revenge begin."