For a long time, there was nothing. Then, Ethan was suddenly aware of where he really was—a black, bubbling ocean of tar under a sunless, starless sky. He was sinking, rising, or floating in the coagulate. Or doing all of it at once.

The boy struggled to locomote, but there was nothing to move and nowhere to go. Was this the afterlife? An eternity in black isolation?

'I'd rather have my body possessed by the Grimorium Lustra,' Ethan thought bitterly.

"Oof… We can't let that happen, can we?" an ethereal, manly voice echoed in his head. A good analogy would be—hearing rock music while you're drowning. No, that would be a terrible analogy.

Did Ethan imagine the voice? Had such a long time passed in the tar ocean that he started hallucinating?

[AP+1]

The boy's vision was blinded, but somehow system prompts appeared. Out of nowhere, he was awarded an attribute point.

[Faith—4/10 (+1)] [Conditions have been met!]

[Establishing connection…]

[Successful!]

A tear appeared in the darkness, and blinding light shone through. No way he hallucinated that!

It was some kind of portal or gate. "Come with me," the same musky voice said.

A glistening, muscular arm slipped through the light fissure and grabbed Ethan. It tugged hard.

Initially, the pitch-black tar wouldn't let go, sticking to its victim greedily. However, the disembodied arm was powerful, exerting such force that Ethan was pulled into the portal.

The boy was suddenly in another place, and his sensations returned. It felt like he was lying on a feather bed. His eyes fluttered open to see nothing but a firmament of sky blue. Freedom, finally!

"You can get up," the ethereal voice said. "I've restored your mind."

Ethan slowly rose from his bed, suddenly realizing it was nothing but white fluff. Was he sleeping on a cloud?

"Yes, you are," the voice replied as if reading his mind. Actually, the boy had spoken the question aloud.

Ethan turned to see a tall, exceptionally handsome man, dressed in a white tunic and pants. He was as blonde as possible in human terms, with looks that would put Greek gods to shame.

Bare-chested, the gorgeous man's torso was so well-sculpted that it could only be possible through animation. No human being could achieve such physical perfection.

"Thanks for the rescue," Ethan said deliriously. "You are…"

"I think you already know who I am…" the man replied, taking purposeful steps towards him.

"God?"

The eye candy chuckled. "Pretty close. But try again…"

"Umm… Wait! Are you my system's architect?"

The man smiled gloriously. "Exactly! Pleased to meet you, Ethan Cromwell. I am Michael."

"You're really the architect? Awesome! I have so many questions. But, wait! Did you say, Michael? As in the Archangel Michael?

I definitely smelled something biblical in Promiscuan lore."

The gorgeous man nodded with grace. "You are intelligent and pretty accurate in your assumptions. I am Michael, Mikael, St. Michael, and other spellings and pronunciations."

Ethan bit his lip and furrowed his brows. "All of that is cool. But I don't understand what's happening. Where am I? Why am I talking to you? Didn't I die?

Again?"

Michael approached the boy's feather bed with poise and sat by his side. The latter was immensely jealous of how good-looking and well-sculpted he was. Just being in his presence was intimidating.

"You have many questions, and I would love to answer them," the Archangel said reassuringly. "After all, you are my ward."

"Your ward?"

"I am responsible for nurturing, aiding, and advising your growth in Promiscua. I chose you from among billions on your home planet for reincarnation. You are special, Ethan, and I am in need of your specialty."

Ethan nodded. "I think I'll feel better if you can answer some of my questions."

Michael smirked, making the boy's heart melt. "Like I said, I would love to address your queries. However, we are running out of time. Your physical body still lies broken beyond repair in the mortal realm. We must act before it is too late."

"What? I thought you fixed me!"

"I fixed your broken mind. Unfortunately, even though I have the power of physical miracles, interfering in the mortal world of Promiscua is forbidden."

Ethan scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Umm, so you brought me back for another reincarnation? Will you send me into another body?"

Michael shook his head. A touch of impatience appeared in his perfect demeanor. "The life of Ethan Cromwell is your last chance, my friend. If you fail to make the most of it, your soul will be sent to the depths of hell. Again."

The boy curled his lips anxiously. "I see. Then, what can I do? I can't possibly heal my corpse down there in Promiscua? I am completely clueless!"

The Archangel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know. That's why I am here to help. Let me first tell you what exactly is happening to you. Then things will begin making sense."

Ethan nodded. "That will be helpful."

"Do you remember a book called the Grimorium Lustra attacked your system?"

"Yes! It took 100 percent control of my body just before I died. Why would you send such a weird book to me in the first place?"

"The grimoire is indeed the most evil thing to exist in the mortal realm and has a mind of its own. I had no hand in its appearance to you. Never mind. Luckily, I paused the corruption's progress at exactly 100 percent. Your body might be deceased but still unpossessed."

Ethan looked upbeat. "Oh, what a relief! Thank you! How do I fix myself and prevent the grimoire from owning my body? I guess you have a plan or something?"

Michael tried to widen his smile, but he had reached its limit. "You'll have to surrender the system's full autonomy to me."

"Oh? I thought I had already done that."

"Autonomy in the mortal world is one of two keys needed to unlock you. The other is surrendering right here."

The boy turned his head to look at the pleasant surroundings. It looked like an ultra-high-definition screensaver. "What do you mean by HERE? From heaven?"

Michael nodded enthusiastically. "Err… Yes… From heaven. I can eradicate the grimoire's corruption and heal you immediately. Then, you can return to Promiscua and continue your adventures."

"In fact, I'll hook you up with powerful skills and attributes," he quickly added with a wink. "Ethan Cromwell the Invincible! No Elf, witch, or human will be your equal. How does that sound for a change?"

Ethan furrowed his brows, imagining having unbridled strength in Promiscua. How he could abuse the lovelies, starting from his favorite family. However, the promises sounded too good to be true.

But then, the boy didn't really have other options. The only alternative was tar-hell.

Ethan was apparently a guest in heaven, which was Michael's dominion. If he didn't cooperate and was kicked out, the tar-hell awaited him in the afterlife. He got spine-chilling goosebumps even thinking about it.

"Alright. I'll do it!"

"Great!" Michael exclaimed, rather too happily. He snapped his fingers, and prompts appeared in Ethan's vision.

[Warning!]

[Root Directory: User Michael is requesting autonomy and free access for the following time period—forever]

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Umm, why did the system issue me a warning just now?"

The Archangel shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, don't worry about that warning. It is only a precaution against handing over control to someone unworthy or evil. Naturally, there's nothing to worry about when I am involved."

The Cromwell heir rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Can I ask a couple of questions before I give you access?"

Michael clenched his jaw, his smile faltering noticeably. "Sure, why not."

"Why were the tasks and challenges issued by the system so perverted? I would expect someone of your virtue to create something more, umm, holy."

The Archangel had a readymade answer. "The system's challenges were a reflection of your own mind—things you wanted to achieve in your previous life."

"Oh, so you're saying that my mind is corrupted?"

Michael put up his hands defensively. "Of course not! Promiscuan morals differ from those of Earth. You may do as you please. Court your sisters and mother, your closest aides. Heaven, you may even go for your father.

I don't judge!"

Ethan pursed his lips with suspicion. "Isn't that a moral contradiction? Shouldn't an Archangel pontificate against incest and other forbidden subjects?"

Michael sighed, clearly losing his cool. "I am a soldier of God, not the Pope. Anyway, as I mentioned earlier, we are running out of time. Could you quickly give me complete access?"

The boy nodded. "Sure, we'll get to that. Just one last question."

"Go ahead."

"Who is Cassandra? And why was there a conflict between her grimoire and the system?"

The Archangel's smile returned. "Good question, and kindly let it be the last. Remember this always! Cassandra Galore is a minion of the Devil, Lucifer herself. Her existence is an abomination! Naturally, a sacred system I created will be at war with her belongings."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Didn't Cassandra fight against Lucifer in the Great Religious War? And who is Lucifer to you?"

"It was a farce!" Michael scoffed. "Cassandra only pretended to be on the humans' side but betrayed them with the Chaste Devil Curse! You should hate her! And more so, my sister, Lucifer Morningstar!"

The boy raised his brows, finally getting the story right. Lucifer Morningstar, the fallen Archangel, was Michael's sister. He nodded, having made up his mind.

Ethan had heard three stories portraying each of the following as antagonists—Lucifer, Alaric, and Cassandra. Who was actually evil among them?

"I answered your question, Ethan Cromwell," Michael insisted sternly. "Now, give me what you promised."

"I promised you nothing! I just don't think you're being truthful. There's nothing worth believing in your story. No deal!"

Anger manifested on Michael's face, giving his handsomeness an ugly tinge. "What are you blabbering, little human? You dare call me a liar! Don't you realize you're walking on the holy marbles of heaven!"

"But are we really in heaven, though?" Ethan asked, looking around. "My system says we are in the root directory. Which means you are a guest in my home… Or… More like a burglar!"

Michael's face went blank for a few seconds. Then his eyes tapered into glowing slits. "I knew you'd show your true colors! Sinful on Earth! Sinful on Promiscua! That is why I keep telling Father never to give sinners a second chance!"

The Archangel grew in size, looming over Ethan like a titan. He extended a massive hand to grab him. "If you refuse to give me control, I'll snatch it out of your entrails!"

The boy stepped back in alarm. He hadn't thought his plan through! Michael was successfully exposed and antagonized. What now?

Creak! Ethan suddenly felt his chest open, letting an object out. The scene was like a cork bouncing out of water. It was none other than the book, Grimorium Lustra!

As soon as Michael's hand touched its surface, he received a violent shock. He leaped back with a yelp. "Infernal trash! Cassandra, you sniveling bitch!"

The Archangel raised his hand, and a blazing lightning bolt appeared in his grasp. "I'll burn you both to a crisp!"

The Grimorium Lustra parted open by itself as if responding in defense. Its pages flipped rapidly, revealing a page to Ethan. A simple spell was scribbled in Witchspeak.

The boy immediately read it aloud. "Reditus Anima!"

"No!!" Michael screamed, launching the lightning bolt in his direction. However, his response was too late.

The Grimorium Lustra closed with a snap and dived into the boy's chest. A portal opened under his feet, pulling him inside. It was very similar to what Michael used earlier.

This time, it was like being flushed down a toilet. Hostile shrieks of Michael followed him, along with clashes of lightning and thunder. They faded into the background as if underwater.

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