When a God of Destruction Was Reincarnated in Tensura:

Rimuru opened his eyes.

A sharp pain shot through his mind as if he had been ripped from one existence and thrown into another. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh, the ground beneath him warm—not from sunlight, but from the lingering heat of devastation.

As his vision focused, he realized where he was.

Tempest.

Or what was Tempest.

The once lively city, filled with bustling streets, the laughter of children, and the warmth of friendship, was gone. The grand buildings lay in ruins, reduced to blackened rubble. The roads were cracked, littered with the bodies of the fallen—his people. The sky was dark, painted with swirling clouds of smoke and ash. The once clear blue heavens were now choked by the aftermath of destruction.

Then, he heard it.

The wails of the dying.

Screams of agony echoed from all directions. Some voices were calling out names—pleading for help that would never come. Others were just gasps, the final breaths of those whose lives were slipping away.

"No… no, no, no." Rimuru staggered forward, his breath caught in his throat. His hands were shaking. He wanted to believe this was a nightmare, a cruel trick of the mind. But everything—the heat, the pain, the scent of death—felt real.

Then, he saw her.

Shion.

She lay amidst the ruins, her body crushed beneath the wreckage of a collapsed building. Her once-vibrant violet eyes were dim, lifeless. Blood had pooled around her, seeping into the cracks of the broken earth.

"No!" Rimuru rushed toward her, his legs moving on instinct, but the moment he reached for her—

Her body crumbled to dust.

"SHION!" His scream tore through the burning wasteland, but she was gone.

Dead.

Forever.

His vision blurred. His heart pounded violently, pain and fury mixing together inside of him. He turned, desperate for something—anything—to make sense of this horror.

Then, another familiar figure caught his eye.

Benimaru.

He was slumped against the remnants of a stone wall, his body riddled with deep, gaping wounds. His once-bright crimson hair was soaked in blood, his proud armor shattered. Even as he lay dying, his grip was tight around his katana, as if he had been fighting to his last breath.

"Rimuru-sama…" Benimaru's voice was weak, his eyes barely open. "I'm… sorry… I failed you."

Rimuru dropped to his knees beside him. "No. No, you didn't fail. Just hold on, I can heal you—"

Benimaru smiled. A faint, sorrowful smile.

"There's no point… It's too late. Tempest… has fallen."

Rimuru's hands trembled as he desperately tried to channel his magic, but nothing happened. His healing skills—his restoration powers—were gone.

"No… no, don't do this. Don't leave me."

Benimaru let out a weak chuckle. "It's funny… I always thought… I would die in battle. But I never imagined… it would be like this. I thought… we'd have more time."

His hand fell limp.

His breath stopped.

Benimaru was dead.

Rimuru screamed.

A raw, broken wail that carried the weight of his sorrow, his rage, his despair. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His vision darkened, a storm of emotions rising within him.

Then, a soft whimper caught his attention.

He turned.

Shuna.

She was standing there, her pink kimono torn and soaked in blood—her own blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her small frame shaking as she clutched her stomach, where a deep wound gushed crimson.

"R-Rimuru-sama…" she sobbed, taking a step forward before collapsing.

Rimuru caught her just in time, holding her delicate body in his arms.

"No… No, you're going to be okay," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I won't let you die."

Shuna's hand trembled as she reached up, her fingers gently brushing against his face. "It… hurts. I don't want to die…"

Tears streamed down Rimuru's face. He held her tighter, trying to pour every ounce of warmth, of love, into his embrace.

"Please… Please don't take her from me too…"

But no matter how tightly he held her—

Her body turned to dust.

Just like Shion.

Just like Benimaru.

Gone.

Forever.

The rage inside Rimuru exploded.

A wave of energy burst from his body, shaking the ruined land. His vision was red, his mind overtaken by a single, all-consuming thought—

"I will make them all pay."

In an instant, the sky darkened completely. The clouds twisted, turning into monstrous vortexes of power. The earth beneath him began to crumble, breaking apart as his energy overloaded reality itself.

His mind raced.

There's no peace. No diplomacy. No mercy.

He would erase everything.

He would tear apart this world and rebuild it in his own image. He would ensure no one would ever challenge him again.

Then, he heard it.

A voice.

Soft. Faint. Yet undeniably familiar.

"Rimuru-sama…"

He turned.

Shion stood before him, her form bathed in soft light.

Not dead. Not suffering. Just… there.

Rimuru's breath caught in his throat. "Shion…?"

She gave him a gentle smile.

"Is this really what you want?"

Rimuru froze. His mind screamed yes, that he wanted vengeance, that he wanted destruction—but then he saw her eyes.

Sad. Disappointed.

He saw the same expression in Benimaru's face. In Shuna's.

In the faces of everyone he lost.

And in that moment, realization crashed into him.

This wasn't real.

This was a trial.

His people weren't truly dead.

Tempest wasn't truly gone.

But… if he continued down this path, if he let himself be consumed by rage and despair—

Then he would become the very tyrant he had just seen himself as.

He would become what he feared the most.

Rimuru took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, letting the anger wash away.

"I won't let this illusion define me," he whispered. "I am not a destroyer. I am not a tyrant."

As those words left his lips, the burning world around him began to crack.

The sky shattered.

The ground dissolved.

And then, the world collapsed into light.

Rimuru gasped as he found himself back in the white void, kneeling on the ground, his body shaking. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his breathing ragged.

Above him, the twelve members of the Grand Order watched in silence.

Then, Orion, the Arbiter of Balance, spoke.

"You have passed."

Rimuru slowly rose to his feet.

The trial was over.

And he had won.