The "terrible pay" job at the small advertising firm was exactly what Einstein needed. For three months, he had lived the life of a ghost. He worked in a corner office with a view of a brick wall, drank lukewarm coffee, and spent his afternoons arguing over font sizes and color palettes. To the world, Einstein Jacob had settled into the quiet mediocrity of a middle-aged consultant.
But the 25th-level power did not sleep; it merely vibrated at a frequency so high it became invisible.
Einstein sat at his desk, staring at a printout for a local bakery's ad campaign, when his eyes suddenly shifted. The ink on the paper began to bleed, not from water, but from a surge of local gravitational interference.
"Einstein? You okay?" Felicity asked, leaning against his doorframe. She was the "boss" of this boutique firm, a role she took with a playful seriousness that kept them both grounded.
"Someone just touched the perimeter," Einstein said, his voice dropping into that resonant, Sovereign tone.
"The Vanguard sensors?"
"No," Einstein said, standing up. "The Original Seal. The one my grandfather buried under the old house. The one I thought was empty."
The Return to the Ruins
They drove to the outskirts of the city, to the site of the modest house where Einstein had spent his five years of "unproductivity." The house had been demolished months ago to make way for a park, but the land felt... different.
Standing in the center of the construction site was a woman. She looked no older than twenty, dressed in a traditional white robe that seemed to repel the dust of the city. She was holding a small, rusted iron box—the same box Einstein's grandfather had used to store his "worthless" medals.
"You took your time, Einstein," the woman said. She didn't turn around. Her voice carried the weight of the mountains.
"Who are you?" Einstein asked, his white aura beginning to shimmer around his feet.
"I am the First Disciple," she said, finally turning. Her eyes were not gold or violet; they were a flat, matte black, like the surface of a deep pond. "Your grandfather didn't steal the Sun-God Seal from the Council. He stole it from me. I am the one who trained the man you called the King of the North."
The Debt of the Soul
Einstein felt a chill that his 25th-level power couldn't warm. This woman didn't have a power level. She was a Source.
"He told me he earned it," Einstein said.
"He earned the right to guard it," she corrected. "But the contract was for fifty years. The fifty years are up, Einstein. The Seal you've been using—the one that allowed you to reach the 25th level—is just the 'interest.' I've come for the 'Principal'."
She opened the rusted box. Inside lay a single, pulsating heart made of pure, liquid gold. It was the True Sun-God Seal, the source of every Jacob's power.
"If you take that," Einstein said, stepping forward, "every Jacob in existence... my mother, Elara, even the residual power in my own cells... we all become 'Unproductive' again. We lose the Sovereignty."
"That was the deal," the First Disciple said. "Your family was given fifty years to save the world. You've done that. Now, give back the spark. Go back to being a man who delivers sandwiches. It's what you were meant to be, isn't it?"
The Final Bargain
Einstein looked at Felicity. He saw the life they had built. If he lost his power, he couldn't protect her from the shadows that still lingered in the corners of the galaxy. But if he kept the power, he was a thief, holding onto a stolen godhood.
"Einstein, don't," Felicity whispered. "We don't need the power to be happy. We have the firm. We have each other."
Einstein looked at the First Disciple. "If I give it back, what happens to the Void? What happens to the Architects?"
"They are my problem now," the woman said. "I am the balance. You are just a man who got lucky with a bank account and a grandfather's secret."
Einstein reached into his chest. He didn't use force. He used Consent. He felt the 25th-level Sovereign power—the Infinity—begin to gather in his palm. It felt like pulling a thread of his own soul through a needle's eye.
He handed the white, shimmering light of his life's work to the woman.
The light merged with the golden heart in the box. The rusted iron turned into a blinding star for a fraction of a second, then snapped shut with a dull clink.
Einstein fell to his knees. The colors of the world suddenly felt duller. The hum in his marrow vanished. His eyes returned to a simple, deep brown. He felt... heavy. He felt the ache in his back from sitting at a desk all day. He felt the cold wind of the London afternoon.
He was a human.
The New Reality
The First Disciple looked at him with a strange, fleeting respect. "Most men would have died trying to hold onto that light. You gave it away like it was a tip for a delivery."
"I was a delivery rider for five years," Einstein panted, leaning on Felicity for support. "I know when a package doesn't belong to me."
The woman vanished. No light, no folding space—she was simply no longer there.
Einstein stood up, his legs shaking. He looked at his hands. No glow. No tattoos. No Sovereign energy. He pulled out his phone.
Current Balance: £2.00
He looked at Felicity and smiled. It was the most honest smile he had ever given her.
"I'm fired, aren't I?" he joked.
"Are you kidding?" Felicity said, pulling him into a hug that felt more real than any Sovereign shield. "You're the only consultant I know who can close a deal with a god. You're getting a promotion."
The Epilogue of a Man
As they walked away from the ruins, a black SUV pulled up. Rhea stepped out, her face frantic.
"Sir! The sensors! Your signal... it's gone! We thought you were assassinated!"
Einstein looked at Rhea, his old Commander. He reached out and pat her on the shoulder.
"The King of the North is retired, Rhea," Einstein said. "Tell the Vanguard to take the year off. Go find a hobby. Buy a bakery. The world is in good hands now."
"But sir... who will protect us?"
Einstein looked at the sunset, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin—not as a source of power, but as a simple, beautiful part of a day.
"We'll protect ourselves," Einstein said. "Like everyone else."
He got into the passenger seat of Felicity's modest car. As they drove back into the city, Einstein watched the lights of London flicker on. He wasn't the Chairman. He wasn't the Sovereign. He was Einstein Jacob, a man with a wife, a sister, and a future that he would have to earn, one pound at a time.
And for the first time in his life, he was exactly where he wanted to be