They say once you know the grand scheme of gods, everything unravels, even the fabrics of the universe itself, down to even its creation, and the ones behind it.
Death.
Death is something everyone knows all too well— inevitable and unavoidable, no matter how much you try the grasp of death never leaves you.
What lies beyond death remains a mystery to many, but for those like me on earth 77, the truth is clear. After death, souls are transported to the sanctuary. Contrary to its name, the Sanctuary is not a place of peace. It is a realm governed by Vitalis, the god of life, a figure revered across all selected worlds.
Upon arrival on the planet known as The Sanctuary, souls are bestowed with roles and titles that they must fulfill if they want to transcend to high realms of power and control. Whether it's the esteemed positions of grand wizard or the revered title of Priest of purity, each role comes with its own set of responsibilities.
These roles are not merely ceremonial; they serve as a pathway for souls to ascend to higher realms. Through a structured system of tasks and trials, souls strive to earn the opportunity to participate in the trials of the gods and potentially ascend to godhood themselves, ruling over worlds within the vast universe of gods.
However, as an anomaly like myself, I was sent to the Sanctuary on my own, not escorted by the great god that rules over it—I had to find a way there on my own.
Alone, like I always was.
My death came quickly at the age of seventeen as I was about to leave the house of terrors behind, I found myself in a heated argument with my father. The rage that enveloped him was almost bone chilling. The way he continued to push me back knowing that the edge of the staris was near, made me even more worried.
Then it happened, my footloose balance on his last nudge and I found myself descending down the stairs. That smile of terror and pleasure mixed together was burned into my memory for eternity.
My limbs twisted, bones cracked, and as I reached out, he never once tried to save me from my impending doom. It was only when I took my final breath that he extended his hand. They say it's never too late to try, but for him, it was.
His delay sealed my fate.
After that, pain became my only companion. It consumed everything. Maybe that's why they call me Cipher—someone of no importance. To me, the name feels like a curse, a weight I carry. And like the name, I became invisible, a ghost lost in the shadows, hidden from the world. Always on the sidelines, never in the spotlight.
I watch from above, like a fly, absorbing pieces of their lives—lives full of experiences I could only dream of. Every moment they got to live while I was stuck watching, my happiness slowly twisted into hatred, then envy.
I hate it. I hated them.
The truth is, I never had the chance to be like them. I was just a ghost, while they lived freely, talked with others, and enjoyed the thrill of heart-pounding battles—something I longed for but could never have.
As the years passed, my days became nothing but watching others live. I destroyed myself, spending every second, down to the millisecond, drowning in hatred and envy. They pushed forward, striving to unlock their final title—the one that would allow them to transcend into the trials of the gods and, if successful, become gods of their own worlds.
But I still have no such luxury. I'm left on the outside, unable to participate.
From the moment I was born, I was destined to become nothing—a nobody. And that's exactly what I became. Somehow, I found my way into the sanctuary, but even there, I felt nothing. Empty. It's the only word that can describe how I felt—devoid of life, stripped of emotion. My self-destruction left me numb, because there's only so much pain a human can endure before they break. But then again…
I was no longer a human, but a soul, a ghost.
And once again, I am here watching another battle unfold.
Looking down at the raging battle unfolding before me, I see two people up against a level three ring beast. Its large body towers over them like a dragon, but instead of scales, it has pristine white fur that clads its body. Golden chest plates wrap around its chest, swirling and going down to its feet, where it clings to the floor like an eagle's foot.
I was again a fly.
"Rellio, I'll go left and you right. We'll do just as we practiced," a girl with red hair says, her fists fastened with gauntlets. They look weak and unsteady due to the many fractures in and around them, a result of their relatively low endurance.
Rellio, the boy, on the other hand, has a staff in his arms.
"They are chi and magic users, unless the girl is using some sort of magical relic," I mutter to myself.
The girl is the first one to go off, heading in her designated direction, slamming her fists together and causing miniature sparks of light. And as if signaling the war to begin, the creature swings its tail, plummeting it straight in her direction. But before it can slam down on her, she leaps into the air, avoiding it by just an inch, and runs up its tail.
Its roar echoes through ring two, cutting through all the other battles happening. Abruptly, green balls form around them, shooting out small beams of light, destroying the very space surrounding it. The shockwave of its roar sends her back, and she grips onto one of the hovering debris, digging her fingers alongside the edges.
"Rellio! Some help here!" she calls out. A bunch of beams connect together, forming one large one, and zip right for her.
"Right at you, Mika!" A burst of water deflects the beam, sending its course to another place and causing an immediate explosion upon impact.
Mika nods, a sign of gratification, holding one of the fallen stones, tightening her muscles in her feet as she launches off, a trail of fire following her fist in pursuit. She grips her hands together and slams them into its head. Fire dances around and explodes, knocking it back, while the boy comes in from the left, his staff pointing at the beast, the tip of it charging up a white light ball infused with a mixture of colors.
It suddenly bursts out a small stream of light, reaching the beast and unexpectedly expanding, lifting the floors around it as it cuts through the very air itself, hurling toward the creature and splitting its head from its long neck.
The feeling of inadequacy lingers in my heart while watching them scream out for joy. Why can't I be like them? Feel the joy after a long fight, the adrenaline the human body gets? I want it—no, I need it.