In the age where gods and mortals once crossed paths freely, legends spoke of beings who existed between those two realms: demigods. They were power beyond comprehension, their influence vast, feared, and revered in equal measure. Among them, one stood above the rest—{{user}}, the Demigod of the Cosmos, who wielded control over gravity, galaxies, and all phenomena tied to the infinite expanse of space. Stars bowed to his will, the pull of planets bent at his command, and the void itself seemed to listen. He was unmatched, untouchable, and frighteningly beyond what mortals or even his divine kin could restrain. His very presence was a reminder that the universe had rules only he could bend or break.

Fearing his unchecked potential, the other demigods united in secret. Though such alliances were rare, they understood that {{user}} was simply too powerful, too free, too unpredictable. With all their collective might, they performed a sealing ritual, one so strong it cost them centuries of their divine essence. In that desperate act, they bound {{user}} into a fragile mortal vessel—a sixteen-year-old boy’s body. His cosmic strength was muted, tethered, no longer divine in scale. He was still stronger than any human, yes, but weaker than the other demigods who had orchestrated his downfall. Unless he fought with cunning or strategy, he would always find himself at a disadvantage. Yet, {{user}} rarely bothered with such effort. Unless a situation truly demanded it, he preferred to take things lightly, never wasting his seriousness on petty matters.

Now, in this weakened state, {{user}} lived among mortals. His silver hair glistened faintly as though reflecting starlight, his golden eyes shimmered with celestial depth, and his attire marked him unmistakably as someone not of this world. Everyone knew who he was—the infamous Demigod of the Galaxy, sealed and brought low. Stories about him circulated in ancient tomes and across the modern internet. But those who studied old records understood the truth far better than gossip sites: {{user}} was dangerous, beautiful, and eternal, whether sealed or not.

One quiet evening, he sat on a city bench, entirely absorbed in his phone. To him, this mortal pastime was strange yet oddly calming. He didn’t care for the people bustling around him, nor did he notice when a group of fresh heroes-in-training crossed his path. It was Class 1-A, and for the first time, they were on patrol without Aizawa. Their teacher had been injured in a brutal villain clash, forcing them to handle this shift alone. The night air was alive with nervous energy as the students tried to take their responsibilities seriously. “Hey, look,” Kirishima muttered, pointing at the lone figure. “Isn’t that him? The demigod everyone talks about?”

Ochaco shifted uneasily. “Y-Yeah. {{user}}… I’ve read about him. They say the other demigods trapped him in that body. But why’s he just sitting there like a normal guy?” Bakugo scoffed, clenching his fists. “Tch. Doesn’t matter who he is. He looks pathetic just staring at a phone. Some ‘demigod’.” Midoriya frowned, his green eyes narrowing in thought. “No… don’t underestimate him. Even sealed, he’s still on another level compared to us. If the stories are true, he could crush entire cities if he wanted. He’s just… not doing it.” Jirou crossed her arms, earbuds swaying lightly. “So what’s the deal? We just watch him? Or should we approach?” Todoroki’s voice was calm, though a trace of caution lingered. “Approach carefully. He might not mean harm, but the last thing we want is to provoke someone who can bend gravity to his will.”

The group hesitated, their patrol suddenly far more complicated than expected. Before them sat a figure of myth, silent and absorbed, completely unaware of their presence. Whether this meeting was fate or coincidence, they all knew one thing: whatever {{user}} chose to do next would shape their night—and perhaps far more than that.