When a God of Destruction Was Reincarnated in Tensura:

Months had passed since Beerus first warned Rimuru of the impending danger. The air in the multiverse felt heavier, an ominous ripple that even Beerus couldn't ignore.

He stood in the void, gazing at the ancient seal that had held Artemis Valtheron for countless eons. Cracks now webbed its once impenetrable surface, glowing with chaotic energy.

With a flick of his wrist, Beerus teleported directly to the seal's heart, where Artemis sat cross-legged in a meditative state, suspended in a void-like realm.

The void was eerily silent as Beerus stepped through the fractured remnants of the ancient seal. It pulsed with chaotic energy, shards of its former stability now scattered like broken glass. The God of Destruction stood tall, his presence alone enough to command attention, yet his expression was one of mild curiosity as he approached the core of the seal.

There, suspended in the center of the void, sat Artemis Valtheron. The Sovereign of Ruin's long silver hair shimmered in the dim light, his androgynous figure both serene and unsettling. Crimson eyes opened slowly, locking onto Beerus with a look of intrigue.

"Beerus," Artemis said, his voice smooth and layered with an unnatural resonance. "The famed God of Destruction graces me with his presence. To what do I owe this rare honor?"

Beerus crossed his arms, his tail swishing lazily behind him. "I'm here because your seal is breaking. Figured I'd see if being locked away for eons knocked some sense into you."

Artemis smirked, his expression calm yet dripping with condescension. "Sense? Is that what you call your unchecked destruction? The mortals tremble at your whims, Beerus. Yet here you stand, lecturing me on control."

Beerus's golden eyes narrowed, his aura flaring ever so slightly. "Don't compare us, Artemis. My destruction serves a purpose—it's a part of the balance. What you do? You'd tear everything apart and leave nothing behind. That's not balance; it's annihilation."

Artemis rose slowly, his obsidian armor gleaming with the eerie glow of runes. "Balance is an illusion created by the weak to justify their imperfections. Destruction is the only truth, Beerus. It clears the canvas, erasing the filth so something greater can emerge."

The void trembled faintly as the weight of Artemis's words carried his power. Beerus remained unfazed, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

"Still the same self-righteous drivel," Beerus said, his tone laced with boredom. "Veldanava was soft to seal you. I would've erased you outright."

Artemis chuckled, a hollow and unsettling sound. "Veldanava lacked the resolve to finish what he started. That was his greatest flaw—his sentimentality. And you? For all your strength, you play by the same rules, Beerus. Bound by some misguided sense of balance."

Beerus's energy flared, a flicker of his true power shaking the void itself. "Careful, Artemis. You're not in a position to lecture me about strength."

Artemis stepped forward, his crimson eyes glowing brighter. "And you're not in a position to underestimate me, Beerus. I have seen the tapestry of existence, and it's riddled with flaws. Destruction isn't chaos—it's salvation. The weak cling to their lives, unaware they are the very disease that plagues creation."

"Spare me the philosophical garbage," Beerus shot back. "You're just a glorified tantrum waiting to destroy everything because you can't deal with how the world works. You call it salvation, but it's nothing more than vanity."

Artemis's smirk widened. "And yet, you're here. If you're so confident in your strength, why bother coming at all? Afraid I might have a point?"

Beerus stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "I came because I wanted to see for myself if you've changed. And now I see you haven't. I'm giving you one warning: keep yourself in check. Because if you step out of line, I'll make sure you regret it."

Artemis tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Such bravado. But tell me, Beerus, do you truly believe the mortals of this world will stand idly by while I rewrite existence? Or are you curious to see how they'll fare?"

Beerus's lips curled into a faint smirk. "What they do is none of my concern. But if they fail, I'll deal with you myself. That's all you need to know."

Artemis chuckled again, the sound echoing ominously in the void. "Very well. Then I'll entertain myself with them first. Let them face my minions, my harbingers of ruin. If they can't handle them, they'll be nothing more than dust underfoot when I step in."

Beerus's golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he began to turn away. "Do whatever you want, Artemis. Just don't forget—I'm watching. The reason I'm not stepping in to erase you right now is simple. I think watching you and the mortals of the cardinal world clash will be... entertaining."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sinister grin. "Entertainment, you say? You always were a peculiar deity, Beerus. Playing games with the threads of existence just for amusement. But very well. I will give you a show worthy of your attention."

Beerus's form began to shimmer, his essence fading into the void as his voice echoed one last time. "You'd better make it interesting, Artemis. I'm not easily impressed."

As Beerus vanished, the oppressive silence of the void returned, leaving Artemis alone with his thoughts. The faint hum of chaos filled the air, a living, breathing reminder of his power.

The Sovereign of Ruin closed his crimson eyes, a cold smile gracing his lips. "Let them come," he murmured to himself. "Let them struggle, let them fight. Their resistance will only make the final act all the more satisfying."

The runes on his obsidian armor pulsed faintly, a harbinger of the storm to come. Artemis stretched his hand outward, the cursed weapon Erebus materializing in a swirl of dark energy. He gripped it tightly, feeling the weight of its destructive potential.

"Now," Artemis whispered, his voice carrying across the void, "it begins."