Zamasu, the Supreme Kai's apprentice.

The sky was a bruised shade of violet, dark clouds swirling ominously above the remnants of what was once a thriving city. It lay in ruins, a testament to the wrath of Zamasu, the misguided deity who believed himself a harbinger of justice. The air was thick with the scent of ash and decay, a symphony of silence punctuated only by the distant crackling of dying fires.

As he surveyed his work, Zamasu felt a familiar satisfaction, the thrill of wielding his divine power with utter impunity. He was a warrior forged in righteousness, destined to cleanse the universe of what he perceived as flaws. Yet, even in his moment of triumph, he sensed a flicker in the debris below—a life that should not have survived.

Curiosity piqued, he descended from the smoldering clouds, landing gracefully amidst the wreckage. The sight that greeted him was not one of vengeance but an absurdity—a small human child, no more than eight years old, weeping under the shadow of a collapsed building. Their clothes were rags, their face smudged with dirt, but their eyes shone bright with terror and sorrow.

Zamasu felt a strange constriction in his chest as he approached. The child had seen horrors unfathomable, and despite the urge to rid the world of this insignificant being, he hesitated.

Zamasu —; "How are you still alive, little one?" He questioned, his tone a curious mixture of disdain and intrigue.