Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Aaron's towering image dominated the sanctuary's sky once more, his golden eyes blazing with unyielding authority as he addressed every soul in Athanys. "I have given you all sufficient time to make your choice. Pledge your allegiance to me and serve me, or pledge your loyalty to those who dare oppose me," he declared, his voice calm yet resonant with a power that silenced the vibrant realm below, each word carrying the weight of divine judgment.

"The choice is yours to make. Before each of you will appear two ribbons. The blue ribbon signifies your pledge to serve under my rule. The red, however, declares your allegiance to those who rebel against me. You have one hour to decide," Aaron explained, his will enveloping Athanys in a palpable aura of control, the air thrumming with his absolute dominion.

In an instant, two ribbons materialized before every inhabitant, floating in the air like tangible manifestations of fate. The blue shimmered with a serene glow, while the red pulsed with defiant energy, each a symbol of the irrevocable choice awaiting them.

The first to act were Aaron's inner circle. Flameborn, Alice, and those closest to him seized the blue ribbon without a moment's hesitation, their loyalty unwavering, their hands clasping the fabric with reverence born of trust and blood. Every hybrid sired by Aaron followed, their bond to their primogenitor unbreakable, the notion of betrayal as alien to them as mortality itself.

The true test lay with the Immortals—those not bound by Aaron's bloodline. Their decision would reveal the depth of the rebellion's hold, their hearts swayed by the cunning propaganda of Blue Star's former leaders, their choice a pivotal moment in Athanys's future.

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Aaron sat serenely on his throne, his eyes closed, exuding an air of unshakable composure as a stream of information flooded his mind, detailing the choices made across the sanctuary. His demeanor remained calm, but a cold resolve simmered beneath the surface, his patience tested by the results.

To his surprise, 60% of Athanys's population had chosen the red ribbon. With Immortals comprising 80% of the total populace, only 20% had opted for the blue, a stark revelation of the rebellion's grip on their minds, fueled by the old leaders' manipulations.

"They have made their choice," Aaron muttered, his golden eyes snapping open, the coldness within them intensifying to a glacial edge, a storm of judgment brewing in their depths.

This time, he forwent projecting his image into the sky. Instead, he teleported to the sanctuary's equator, hovering above the lush landscape, his presence a silent harbinger of reckoning. He projected his thoughts directly into the minds of every being, his voice a chilling whisper that pierced their souls.

"You chose to oppose me and place others above me. Codex, what is the penalty for those who refuse to serve me, the emperor?" Aaron asked quietly, his voice steady yet amplified by his mastery over Athanys, reaching every ear with haunting clarity.

The sanctuary fell silent, every soul halting their actions, gripped by curiosity and dread as they awaited his verdict.

[Rebelling against the emperor is an act of treason against the empire and emperor. A death sentence is the just penalty for their actions,] the Codex intoned, its voice mechanical and devoid of emotion, echoing through the collective consciousness.

"A death sentence it is," Aaron said, his tone calm but final, devoid of mercy.

"Domain," he whispered, and his power unfurled like a tidal wave, enveloping all of Athanys in an invisible shroud of absolute authority.

[Domain – Create a domain within a kilometer radius. Within it, any being relying on extended life, stolen vitality, or false immortality faces true death. You are the lord of Immortality—none may boast of escaping death in your presence.]

His omnipotent control within the sanctuary stretched the domain far beyond its usual limits, blanketing the entire realm in a field of unyielding judgment. With a snap of his fingers, Aaron commanded the sanctuary's essence, and massive spikes erupted from the ground, piercing every soul who had chosen the red ribbon. The jagged spires soared into the air, hoisting the lifeless bodies of the once-immortal Eternals, their forms swaying like grim totems of consequence. The spikes radiated outward in a slow, deliberate wave, with Aaron as the central axis, a silent monarch overseeing his verdict.

The tranquil sanctuary erupted into chaos, filled with the anguished screams of the dying, their eyes brimming with remorse for their misguided choices. Some pleaded for mercy, their voices breaking in desperation; others cursed in defiance, their words swallowed by the void; some wept in despair, while a few accepted their fate in silent hopelessness. Aaron remained unmoved, his heart steeled against their cries. They had crafted their own demise, and he was merely enforcing the consequences of their betrayal.

"Now, to personally deal with the root of this rebellion," Aaron muttered, bending the fabric of space to appear before the instigators—the cancers who had sown division in his empire. He had deliberately spared their stronghold from the earth spikes, reserving the satisfaction of confronting them himself, his presence a storm of restrained wrath.

"So, what were you all saying about having the experience to lead ahead of me?" Aaron asked calmly, materializing as if he had always been there. He conjured a throne from thin air, its sleek, obsidian design radiating authority, and sat with nonchalant ease, his piercing gaze sweeping over the shocked faces of the rebel leaders, awaiting their response.

"Aaron, are you sure you want to commit the worst genocide humanity has ever seen? You are killing billions with your actions. Where is your humanity?!" Eric demanded, his voice rising in a mix of fear and defiance, his eyes wide as he grappled with the scale of Aaron's judgment.

"They were all dead in the first place. I am simply reclaiming the life I bestowed upon you all," Aaron replied, his voice steady and devoid of guilt. Why should he feel remorse? He had offered them a choice, multiple grace periods, a life beyond death, and a sanctuary free from fear. Yet they had repaid his generosity with betrayal, their ingratitude sealing their fate.