An old blacksmith gazes upwards, as he lies down in a grassy field. His home planet, Kalzora, was utterly demolished. The demon-hordes had destroyed the world, making it a real-life hell.
Kalzora was not very technologically advanced. No smartphones, computers, tablets. The people of the world had no time to think about these things, as the demon hordes had been there even before the start of the history books. No human on Kalzora had any clue what it was like before the demons arrived.
The demons were tall and strong, with fierce-looking faces that would make even a grown man piss his pants. The shortest of them being 2 meters tall, and the tallest being the size of an ordinary family home. They had all different colors of skin ranging from blue to pink or red. The demons also had a ranking system. Ordinary demons had no horns, those were the demon soldiers and citizens. Demons with one horn were generals, they were dangerous beings that only the most powerful humans could hope to handle. Demons with two horns were the direct subordinates of the demon king, you can think of them like mini-bosses, they ravaged cities easily and almost no humans could even begin to compare to them.
Finally, the strongest demon, also known as the demon lord, had three horns. He was the leader, and also the one that opened the portal from hell to Kalzora. The demon lord was restricted after he opened the portal because it drained too much mana, but a year before the collapse of Kalzora, he recovered his original strength. That was when humanity truly began to fall. The demon lord was too powerful and after killing the heroes party, the human race stood no hope.
Before demons arrived, the humans were weak creatures. But once a portal to hell was opened, mana from hell rushed in, saturating the atmosphere with it. This allowed humans to train themselves with mana and achieve superhuman levels of strength. It also allowed them to control things like the elements, gravity, and weather.
Mana in the atmosphere also affected the herbs and minerals of the planet. Tree's grew to be tens of kilometers tall, minerals were infused with mana, animals became bigger and stronger just like humans, and with the demons invading, the world was thrown into turmoil.
The old man was the world's best blacksmith, he armed the hero's party with weapons and armor as they went to fight the demon lord. But little did he know, his so-called masterpiece was the downfall of the whole race. While the hero's party fought valiantly against the demon lord, the holy sword crafted with his blood, sweat, and tears would shatter.
The whole party was obliterated, and one party member survived. As he dragged himself back to civilization, he went to the old blacksmith, the killing intent radiating off him like the sun. The party member blamed the poor blacksmith and was hell-bent on killing the man. After arriving at the smithy, the party member was thrown into a rage, throwing insults at the old man. As he raised his sword to kill the blacksmith, the only thing in his heart was a profound hatred that was darker than black. Luckily for the old blacksmith, the man collapsed from fatigue that was built up before he could kill the blacksmith. But the guilt the blacksmith felt didn't disappear like that.
The demon horde slowly wiped out man-kind after the heroes party fell, with no one to stop them; it was only a matter of time. The blacksmith watched, full of guilt, knowing he should have died for his sins. As it was his items that caused all this.
Now, the only one left in this hell was an old man, lying down and awaiting his demise as the demons gathered on his position. He looks peaceful, even though he knows his time is limited. He can finally be free of his sins in the afterlife.
"Old man, you caused us quite a bit of trouble." The blacksmith hears a voice and slowly turns his head, knowing his final moments are drawing near.
"If it isn't the demon lord himself, why have you come to this old man in his final moments." The blacksmith asks, knowing full well that he was just here to mock him. The demon lord chuckles.
"You were quite the craftsmen, too bad you worked for those puny humans, this is your last chance, die or join us." The demon lord says. The old blacksmith lightly laughs as he hears this.
"I'm sorry, my sins are too heavy to continue. My feeling of guilt has overpowered my will to live. If I even abandon my race in my last moments, I will have nothing." The old blacksmith explains serenely.
"Well, that is too bad. I don't see a point in killing someone as defenseless as you, so you can have peace in your final moments." The demon lord turns away from the blacksmith, the army of demons following him trails behind. They leave the old man there undisturbed in his final moments.
After an hour, the man's eyes slowly begin to close as the curtains on his life falls. He regrets his failed masterpiece that caused this, he regrets not dying to the last party member in his smithy, he regrets not struggling in his final moments and just sitting there facing the thing that ended his race, but he can not do anything. His frail, old body gave up a long time ago, and it was only a matter of time.
As his breathing becomes shallower. He opens his heavy eyelids one last time, and he opens his dry mouth to speak his final words.
"Please, if there is a god, give me one more chance. I want to repent for my sins, I want to make someone happy, I want to end those demons who took my happiness. My final wish, please grant me this." The words come out slowly and the blacksmith puts all his energy into these words. It was a true message straight from the bottom of his heart. He was hoping to make God forgive him, and allow him one last chance.
Right before he closes his eyes for the last time, something miraculous happens, in front of his eyes, a blue screen appears.
[ Would you like another chance at life? ] ( Yes / No ) The words are printed out in front of the old man.
The blacksmith grins and with all of his energy raises his hand and touches yes.
[ Heading to Earth, prepare for soul transplantation ] the blue screen types. A blinding light envelopes the old man's body, as his soul is taken from the dying body.
It feels like a heavy burden is taken off his shoulder as he leaves behind his old, frail, fleshy body. It feels like an out-of-body incarnation. His soul blasts off at the speed of light as it heads towards earth to be reborn.