In a dimly lit hospital room, a man lay motionless on the bed, his body completely wrapped in bandages, leaving only tightly clenched fists visible.
Unbeknownst to the man, an enigmatic figure stood at the foot of his bed. Cloaked in a flowing green robe, their face bore a mixture of compassion and sorrow as they observed the man's suffering.
The limbless man had led a life as a small-time drug peddler, eking out a meager existence by selling various substances to the addicts of impoverished neighborhoods. Though his trade was illicit, it provided him with the means to fill his belly. However, his fortunes took a turn when he was falsely accused of a crime. The aggrieved party, seeking retribution, had callously severed his limbs, emasculated him, and even cut out his tongue and ears. Yet, they spared his eyes, for they intended for him to witness the gruesome fate of his dismembered body being fed to ravenous dogs.
The green-robed presence seemed to have materialized in the room without warning—perhaps mere moments ago, or perhaps an entire day had passed. Regardless, the figure appeared deeply rooted, immobile even when the nurses attended to the limbless man. The medical staff, despite being aware of the green-robed entity's presence, remained tight-lipped.
Finally, as the limbless man regained consciousness, his eyes met those of an elderly figure standing before him. The old man's countenance bore a mix of empathy and sorrow. A surge of revulsion coursed through the limbless man's body, for he despised nothing more than being pitied—a look he had encountered countless times, even before his disability.
"He should be in school at his age," murmured old looking woman, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"Such a pitiable state. Poor child," lamented another.
These were the words he had often heard during his childhood, back when he roamed the streets as a young peddler. The pitying gazes had followed him throughout his life, even as he engaged in illicit activities. He had endured numerous stints in prison, and as the years passed, the expressions of pity gradually transformed into ones tinged with fear. He had foolishly believed that he had finally escaped this cycle of misfortune, but alas, luck continued to elude him. The last twenty days of his life were spent relentlessly beseeching the doctors to end his suffering, yet no one displayed any intention of helping him. Doubts about the doctors' inability to understand him gnawed at his mind. Perhaps they believed that a drug dealer deserved such a fate. Who could say?
Suddenly, a voice resounded within the limbless man's mind, pulling him back to the present moment.
"I apologize for everything that has befallen you. I hope that in your next life, you will find yourself in a better place. I am etching every crucial detail into your mind."
As the echoes of these words reverberated through his thoughts, the green-robed figure vanished, leaving the limbless man startled and vulnerable. The scene before him threatened to make him bite his own tongue, though first, he needed to locate the dog that had devoured it.
Just seconds after the disappearance of the green-robed figure, the limbless man was assailed by an intense wave of pain within his head. A torrential downpour of knowledge surged forth, threatening to drown his consciousness. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming, capable of consuming hundreds of lives to fully comprehend. But before he could even attempt to navigate this deluge, he succumbed to unconsciousness.
Two days later, as the limbless man regained awareness, he embarked on the arduous task of delving into the vast reservoir of knowledge now residing within his mind.
According to the green-robed figure, he was killed the reincarnation of a god's son—a son he had inadvertently slain 346 lifetimes ago. Since direct divine intervention was prohibited, the god had cast upon him an unyielding curse of perpetual misfortune. His previous 346 lives had been mired in abject despair, perpetually relegated to the lowest rungs of society—enslaved, serving as a subordinate, or forced to march to the frontlines, where death eagerly awaited.
Additionally, the green-robed figure revealed the existence of numerous alternate worlds. Some were dominated by the art of swordsmanship, while others bestowed upon humans the power to ascend to godhood. However, even in the most advanced world he had encountered during his past 346 lives, humanity still clung to machines in their struggle for survival. The darkest world he had experienced could only be described as a realm ruled by half-human, half-animal creatures—beings so savage they devoured him alive, a mere child of eleven, on a human farm dedicated to breeding livestock.
As news of his plight reached the other gods, fury consumed them. Although they considered an individual human life insignificant, their divine stature compelled them to intervene. After all, every being harbored the potential to ascend to godhood. Although the limbless man couldn't fathom why the gods sought to create more gods, he felt little inclination to delve deeper into their motives.
As a result, the gods resolved to transport him to the world boasting the most advanced techniques—a world that had previously birthed an exceptional number of deities. Should he accept this offer, he could sever ties with his current existence with a single thought, reborn anew in this foreign realm. However, he would only retain memories from his last 346 lives. According to the green-robed figure, the moment he achieved godhood, he would be granted an opportunity to confront the individual responsible for his curse and exact vengeance. Furthermore, these memories were left as a foundation—a guiding force empowering him to seek retribution on his path towards godhood.