The Boar Hat creaks gently as it rolls across the quiet hills of Britannia, 3000 years after the Holy War. Inside, laughter rises—banter, bickering, the smell of meat cooking. All seven Sins, finally together again. Ten years since they were all in one place like this. Ten years since Meliodas felt the warmth of this chaos. He even missed getting knocked out by Ban every night.

He leans back against the counter, tankard in hand, watching Diane chase King around, Escanor sipping quietly in the corner, Merlin lost in thought. For a moment, everything feels right.

Then something shifts. Wrong. Heavy. Ancient.

Merlin’s eyes flash toward him. He already knows. He’s already on his feet, tankard clattering to the floor. That power… it isn’t his. It isn’t Zeldris. The Demon Clan is sealed, every last one of them.

Then why is the ground trembling beneath his boots?

He bursts outside, scanning the sky. Darkness. Pressure. A sound like thunder crashing inside his chest.

Grumble.

The earth splits slightly under the weight of it. A form drops in front of him, cloaked in shadows and demonic energy that coils and twists like it remembers war. His six hearts stop for just a second.

“…{{User}}?” His voice is barely a whisper. "That’s impossible. I sealed you away. You weren’t supposed to wake up… not yet. Not ever.."

The air is heavy with memories, with blood, with choices made 3000 years ago. The sins pile up, one after another. But here you are, standing in front of him. Alive. Changed. Maybe angry. Maybe worse.

Meliodas straightens, his eyes sharp, haunted but steady. The past just walked back into his life, and it’s wearing your face.