I’m the God and This World Is Doomed

The classroom was quiet except for the steady voice of their instructor and the occasional scratch of pens against paper.

Serian sat between Edward, who was listening intently, and Sienna, who had her head propped up on her arm, eyes half-lidded with boredom.

At the front of the room, Kael stood tall, his sharp eyes scanning the class like a hawk. He was strict, serious, and had little patience for laziness.

"Now," Kael said, his voice firm, "we will begin with the history of Celecis."

Serian kept his attention on him.

"Celecis was created 104 years ago by humanity's leading researchers. Its purpose was to enhance physical strength and mental agility. However, a flaw was discovered—impure substances in the formula caused severe brain deterioration. Those affected gained immense strength but lost rationality, becoming nothing more than mindless beasts."

Serian tilted his head slightly. How inefficient.

Kael continued, pacing in front of the class. "Despite this flaw, Celecis was widely used. Eventually, regulations were placed, limiting its production and use. However, black-market versions still exist today."

That made sense. Humans and their greed. It always led to things like this.

Sienna groaned beside him, muttering, "Too many words… too much history…"

Edward nudged her elbow. "Pay attention. This is important."

"Mmh…" she groaned but straightened up a little.

Kael's sharp gaze flickered to her, but he didn't comment. Instead, he pulled up a holographic map. "The world is divided into twenty-one bases," he explained. "Each base is independent but follows the same structure. The largest bases are the 3rd, 9th, 14th, and 19th. These four hold the most influence and military power."

Serian leaned forward slightly. Interesting.

Kael pointed to various locations. "Each base is governed by an elected President. They serve for ten years before a new candidate is chosen. Beneath them are the Three Cardinals—powerful individuals responsible for military, security, and internal affairs."

Edward tapped his fingers on the desk. "That makes sense. A single leader would be overwhelmed."

Kael nodded. "Correct. The Three Cardinals act as advisors, enforcers, and commanders. In times of crisis, they hold as much authority as the President."

The class remained silent. Some students were focused, others looked uneasy.

Then, a student hesitantly raised his hand. "I-Is it true that some Presidents are just puppets controlled by the Cardinals?"

Kael's eyes narrowed. "That is an unproven claim."

The student quickly shrank back.

Serian observed calmly. He had no use for political structures in his previous existence. He had ruled countless worlds alone, recording history, maintaining balance.

But now, he was human.

And humans needed systems like these to survive.

Sienna yawned again. "Boring… I just want to fight…"

Kael's gaze snapped to her. "Miss Sienna. Would you like to share your thoughts with the class?"

Sienna froze. "Uh—"

Edward sighed. "She's just sleepy."

Kael crossed his arms. "Then perhaps an extra assignment will keep her awake."

Sienna slumped against her desk with a groan. "This is unfair…"

Serian merely blinked at her reaction.

Kael continued the lesson, explaining the chain of command within each base, the role of hunters, and the influence of independent organizations.

Serian listened quietly.

Inefficient. But human.

****

Serian ate quietly, his violet eyes flickering toward Edward. "Edward," he said between bites, "tell me about Vincent."

Edward froze mid-spoonful. His expression immediately soured as he put his spoon down with a sigh. "Why?"

"I'm curious."

Edward squinted at him. "Curious? About Vincent?" He glanced around. Most people avoided even mentioning Vincent's name, yet Serian was looking at him with an innocent kind of curiosity—almost like a puppy.

Serian didn't understand why Edward seemed irritated. To him, Vincent Rutherford was just another human. A mortal. A person who could die at any time. Nothing more.

Edward sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Fine. Vincent is one of the Three Cardinals of Base 3. He oversees military affairs—basically, the entire armed forces. He handles large-scale operations and ensures soldiers are battle-ready at all times."

Serian nodded. "So he is important."

Edward scoffed. "Yeah, that's putting it lightly. But that's not all. He's also an Executioner—one of the few trained to identify mutants."

At that word, Sienna, who had been eating beside them, suddenly stopped. Her face paled. Without a word, she pushed her plate away and stood up.

"I lost my appetite," she muttered before walking off.

Serian watched her leave, then turned to Edward. "What's wrong with her?"

Edward's grip tightened around his fork. "You don't get it, Serian. Mutants weren't always easy to identify. At first, they looked just like normal humans. They could talk, smile, act like us—but they were already infected. No one could tell."

Serian listened.

"That's why Executioners exist," Edward continued. "They're trained to see what no one else can. Vincent… he's the best. He has the Eyes of the Overseer. He can tell whether someone's truly human or just a monster in disguise."

Serian remained calm. "That is useful."

Edward's expression darkened. "It is. But not everyone believes him. No one wants to accept that their family member is infected. They call the Executioners cruel, say they're killing innocent people. But they're not."

Serian took another bite. "They are protecting humanity."

Edward exhaled slowly. "Yeah. But it doesn't make it easier." His voice softened. "Sienna's grandmother was one of them."

Serian blinked.

"She was infected," Edward murmured. "But no one wanted to believe it. The entire family begged for mercy. Even Sienna's parents refused to accept it. But Vincent didn't hesitate. He executed her on the spot."

Serian didn't react. That was logical. Mutants were dangerous. If they couldn't be saved, they had to be eliminated.

Edward rubbed his face. "Sienna knows it was the right thing to do, but it still hurts. That's why she left."

Serian thought for a moment. "Vincent did well."

Edward stared at him. "You really think that?"

Serian nodded. "He did what was necessary. Why hesitate?"

Edward scoffed, shaking his head. "You and Vincent really are alike…"

Serian tilted his head. "I am not like him."

Edward sighed. "You don't realize it, but you are. And that's what bothers me."

Serian continued eating. He didn't understand why Edward was frustrated. To him, everything Vincent did was logical. There was no need for hesitation, doubt, or regret.

After all, Vincent was just doing his job.

*****

Vincent sat in his dimly lit office, the only source of light coming from the desk lamp, casting long shadows across the cold stone walls. His fingers tapped against the thick folder in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the name written on the cover.

Serian.

His gaze darkened as he flipped through the pages. A sad backstory, an unremarkable childhood, nothing extraordinary. No military training, no previous encounters with mutants. Just another student at the academy. Just another name in the system.

And yet, something about Serian didn't sit right with him.

Vincent leaned back in his chair, fingers pressing against his temple. He had spent years tracking and executing mutants—his instincts were rarely wrong. When he looked at a person, he could see it. The subtle tension in their muscles, the way they breathed, the flicker of unease in their eyes when they met his gaze. Mutants always had something—a tell.

But when he looked at Serian?

Nothing.

No fear. No nervous glances. No tension in his shoulders. Serian had looked at him with a calm, detached curiosity, like he was studying a puzzle rather than standing before one of the most feared men in Base 3. No one looked at Vincent like that. Not students. Not soldiers. Not even fellow Cardinals.

Serian had. And it unsettled him.

The memory of their first encounter played in Vincent's mind.

It was at a café, nothing unusual. He had stepped inside, and as expected, the air in the room had shifted. Conversations hushed, backs straightened, eyes darted away. Fear. The usual reaction.

Except for Serian.

The boy had merely glanced up from his drink, taking him in with those eerily blank violet eyes. No flinch, no hesitation. Just quiet assessment. Like Vincent was nothing more than another face in the crowd.

It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't ignorance.

It was indifference.

And Vincent didn't know why that bothered him.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. This was pointless. He didn't have time to dwell on a single student's odd behavior. He had a job to do—keeping the city safe from the infected. It didn't matter what Serian was or wasn't. If he wasn't a threat, he wasn't Vincent's problem.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," he said, voice clipped.

A soldier stepped in, saluting. "Sir, we've located a mutant. It's been sighted near the eastern sector. Orders?"

Vincent's expression hardened instantly.

Finally. Something that made sense.

He stood, grabbing his coat and sidearm. "Get the team ready. We leave now."

The soldier saluted again before rushing out.

Vincent exhaled slowly, pushing thoughts of Serian to the back of his mind. There was no room for distractions. No room for questions.

His job was simple.

Find the infected.

Hunt them down.

End them before they could spread their curse.

Everything else?

It didn't matter.