"After enduring this crappy life for decades, is this seriously how it all ends?"
Bruce muttered under his breath, too drained to even raise his voice.
He glanced over at his partner's lifeless body, lying there like a discarded puppet. They'd been through hell and back together for three years, saving each other's backs more times than he could count. But now, instead of going out in a blaze of glory, they were snuffed out by something as basic as human greed.
Their brief adventure had taken a detour into these ancient ruins, a spur-of-the-moment decision that led them down a dark path. Avoiding traps and barely escaping death, they'd made it to the heart of the place, only to be greeted by a hologram-like message:
"WELCOME TO THE ALTAR OF SACRIFICE."
At first, they shrugged off the message, just hoping to find some loot to make their tough journey worthwhile. But then the next message hit them like a wrecking ball:
"WITH MORE POWER COMES MORE BLOODSHED.
AND WITH MORE BLOODSHED COMES MORE POWER.
SPILL THE BLOOD OF THE ONE STANDING NEXT AND EARN THE RIGHT TO COMMAND THE ULTIMATE POWER.
DENY THIS CALL AND YOU SHALL BE NOTHING BUT BURNT ASHES."
"What the heck? Is it asking us to kill each other?"
Josh muttered, his voice barely escaping his lips before the power of the altar crashed over both him and Bruce.
It happened so fast, like a bolt of lightning, but they could feel the surge of energy coursing through them, filling them with a sense of grandeur beyond anything they'd ever known. For a fleeting moment, they felt invincible, as if they held the universe in the palm of their hands. In that instant, they were more than mortal; they were like mighty gods, and everything else around them felt tiny and insignificant, like specks of dust in the wind. This power was unlike anything they'd ever encountered, transcending the boundaries of time and space, capable of shaping entire worlds with a mere thought.
But as quickly as it came, they were thrust back into the present, gasping for air, their bodies unable to bear the weight of the immense power they had briefly wielded. Though mere seconds had passed, it felt like eons.
Bruce knew then and there that this power was not meant for mortal hands, and they were not powerful enough to control it.
Without tearing his gaze from the altar, Bruce addressed Josh, who stood behind him with a hunger in his eyes.
"Josh, we gotta tell the royals. This is too big for u…,"
Bruce started, but a sudden sharp pain cut him off. He looked down and saw a familiar red blade sticking out of his chest. Shocked, he turned towards Josh, who stood unmoving, his eyes determined.
"Sorry, Bruce. But this secret stays between us. You felt that power, didn't you? I can't let it go,"
Josh declared, wrenching the sword from Bruce's body.
Bruce staggered forward, collapsing just inches from the ancient altar, his blood staining its surface.
"It's... too much for us,"
he gasped weakly, his voice trailing off into the shadows of the desolate chamber.
"How do you know?"
Josh retorted, advancing on him.
"We're just lowlifes, Bruce. Hell, we're actually worse than dogs in some ways. You know it as well as I do. We're stuck in this sorry excuse for a life, waiting to kick the bucket as those rich snobs and royal bastards get even richer and more powerful. This is our way out. Well, my way out,"
he explained.
Josh raised his sword, saying,
"Don't worry. I'll make it quick."
Bruce let out a bitter laugh, even though it hurt like hell.
"Ha..ha..haa..ahgh.. ha haa."
"What? Why are you laughing?"
Josh asked curiously.
"I always told you..."
"Told me what?" Josh asked.
"To get a gun. Remember? You said you couldn't afford one, ....so... ugh... I got the latest model... for you as your birthday gift… Here.. Take it."
Suddenly Bruce revealed a minigun from the back of his coat and fired straight into Josh's head before he could react. The bullet tore through his skull, snuffing out his life in an instant. Josh didn't even have time to understand how everything changed so fast. His eyes wide with disbelief, fell on the surface of the altar with blood creeping out of his head.
With no strength left, Bruce rested his head against the cold stone floor, gazing up at the ceiling of the altar.
"What a miserable life."
He thought back to his early days.
His early days were much better actually.
Bruce was born into a branch of a ruling family in the continent of Aethens, but his life took a turn for the worse early on. His powerful father, an Awakener, died when Bruce was just 2 years old in a dungeon accident. A year later his mom left him behind and married a widower from a rival family. To this day, he's still in the dark about why she took off. He always figured she could've taken him with her, but he never got an explanation. His grandmother Kyra tried to raise him as the rightful heir, but Bruce's aversion to violence and bloodshed made him unfit for the role. Her only hope for him was to awaken a good ability.
Abilities don't pass down in families like eye or hair colors. They are very random. So when Bruce awakened his unique ability 'Shadow', everyone in his family was excited. But unfortunately, unlike ability, a person's talent grade is passed down in genes. Even though his father was an extremely rare SSS-grade talent, he inherited his F-grade talent from his mother who abandoned him. Even after leaving him, she still managed to make his life harder.
And that's when the trouble really started for the family. Without a decent heir, other families saw them as easy pickings. But they couldn't go all out. They were cautious due to the powerful matriarch Kyra. To secure Bruce's future, Kyra adopted two orphans with exceptional talents into the family. But even that plan backfired, leading to betrayal and further misery for Bruce.
He didn't have the time or energy to dwell on those dark days filled with regrettable decisions of his younger self that ultimately led to his family's downfall. Fate brought him to the Novar continent after his family's destruction. After 20 years of struggling as a low-level mercenary, his life seemed to come to a bitter end.
"After enduring this crappy life for decades, is this seriously how it all ends?"
"If only I had another chance," he muttered to himself.
Suddenly, another hologram appeared before him.
"THE SACRIFICE OF THE BLOOD INITIATED.
THE CONDITIONS HAVE BEEN MET.
A POWER THAT ENDS ALL FATE.
DO YOU ACCEPT TO BECOME ITS SERVANT?"
"A power that ends all fate? Another power that only brings destruction, huh? And they want me to become a servant? Give me a break. Can't I just die in peace you jerk?" Bruce scoffed.
"DO YOU ACCEPT OR CEASE TO EXIST?" the hologram demanded
"Hmm, you think death scares me. I've been through much worse, you bastards. At least with death, I can find some peace,"
Bruce replied defiantly, closing his eyes.
"I decline. Go screw yourselves,"
he said before losing consciousness.
"THE USER DECLINED.
INITIATING THE TERMINATING PROCESS…
ERROR.
ERROR.
INTERFERENCE DETECTED.
ERROR.
ERROR.
ERROR...
A HIDDEN CONDITION HAS BEEN MET.
SCANNING INITIATED...
THE SECRET PATH TO THE VOID IS FOUND.
THE FORGOTTEN GOD [???????]'S FINAL CONDITIONS HAVE BEEN MET.
INTERFERENCE OF OUTER GODS SUPPRESSED...
CHANGING [???????]'S WILL TO A LOWER MANIFESTATION.
LOCKING THE HIGHER REALMS...
Deep in the void of the unknown, where even gods fear to tread, a place that transcends time and space, an eye merged with the darkness opened. Its gaze is fixated on the tiny planet, billions of years away from its current location. It had found the person it had been searching for eons.
"...….[???????]'S W..ILL… AW…A…K.ENED…. F….INALLY IT… BE…..GI…NS."
a hoarse voice filled the void as the eyes closed and darkness filled.
Back at the altar, where Bruce's life was fading away, two final messages floated:
"ALTERED THE POWER LEVEL ACCORDING TO THE PRESENT REALM...
THE VENGEANCE SYSTEM INSTALLED."