He had learned one too many things. One of which was the strength of his pocket dimension. He noticed that his activities here did not affect the real world, which becomes frozen in time whenever he enters. Exiting returns things to normal, but it was too difficult to miss.
Requiem sat on the desk, staring into the machine. He thought of countless things, and wondered to himself. What exactly would he put as a lock in place for such a technological marvel? He kept his fascinated gaze on the screen, and his hand toyed with the object that moved the small arrow.
He played for a while. He sensed a great familiarity from this system, like he lived with it here for a thousand years. A light flickered in his eyes as he typed away at the strange boxes with an index finger, a frown forming on his face as he formed a string of words, "Sjcuakalcknal!inakc."
Requiem clicked on 'enter' and the machine made a soothing sound, the the view shifted. There was silence as the computer booted up, while he watched with a light in his eyes. He calmly raised a hand to touch the screen but unlike the others, it never caused any ripples or distortion.
It was solid. He withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair. He could remain in this place for a hundred thousand years… Requiem shook his head. The computer booted up, and a mess of icons appeared before him, startling Requiem. He knew these things, but where did he know them from?
There was this particular eye catching icon that read, 'Memoirs of a Sheepherder'. He froze in his seat and swiped the arrow from side to side, watching as it moved slowly and quickly in the screen. A frustrated light appeared in his eyes when he clicked on 'Games' by accident.
Requiem groaned internally as the screen went blank, 'Had I broken something?' Just as he sat in deep thoughts, he frowned. He was about to rise when the screen lit up with colours, causing him to narrow his eyes in response, reading the text as they appeared.
⌈Welcome Player!⌋
⌈10000 DP Required,⌋
⌈Requirement not met, Exiting!⌋
Before he could process this, the scree went blank again and he was back to staring at the weird symbols. He slowly aimed for the one he saw earliest and clicked the button, watching in silence, the screen shifting from the mess of symbols to a cleaner area: with more alien symbols.
Requiem clicked on one and leaned back, reading with his back leaned into his chair. The longer he read, the darker his expression became. He read the memoirs to completion, then stood up to his feet, bursting out into a peal of maniacal laughter as he stood to his feet.
"So that was what happened!" he grinned with a light in his eyes, feeling as if he had gained one part of himself he thought lost forever. He wished he had written more into the memoir, but entering seclusion for the rarest item in the system force him to complete the book, "So unfortunate."
He turned to the rather conspicuous book laying on the grass some hundred metres away, and a coldness emanated from his heart. He had started off as the hero of divinities, the one who led them all in the times of need. It was unfortunate, having to become the villain for his own selfish goals.
Requiem had recorded a lot about past, present and future events. This life had placed Requiem in a worse position than before. The world was just as primitive at the beginning and he would stay and watch it evolve. His life's purpose was simple: to cause the various planes to be at his mercy.
He was the villain who would lead the gods and himself to an inevitable end. Requiem sighed, a light in his eyes as his countenance fell. He had hoped — sometime in the past — that he could do it, change the course of his life with the power of cosmology. That he could rest.
"Now I have to start all over…" he groaned, pulling at his hair as he walked to the book. After he had reached the location, he bent over and picked it up. He opened the pages of the book, and it was completely blank. There were no reactions or anything, and he sighed deeply.
⦗Cosmology (Locked)⦘
Requiem blinked at the screen, "Wow! Well, thank you, the god of the obvious!" he held his chin in thought after his snarky bark then narrowed his eyes. It was locked, does that mean he'd have to play a game for a thousand years to unlock?
He had forgotten many things and had not recorded this but even if he did, Requiem could not recall where. He sighed, waving his hands as the scenery shifted around him. He sat on the throne, a cold gleam in his eyes as he watched a slave whip the summoner while she crawled on the ground.
Requiem had the slave do this until the summoner collapsed from the pain, then he allowed her to rest for merely a few seconds before ordering a slave to revive her. He made sure she saw it to its end — her punishment. Her back, bare, bled from the wounds inflicted by the raining whips.
"That is enough!" Requiem raised a hand and the slave stopped. He rested his jaw on his palm, a strange expression on his face as he observed the broken summoner. Her jaws, back and limbs had been tormented heartlessly, pushed over their limits.
She could not even beg properly but neither the slave or him felt a shroud of pity for her. All he felt was regret — regret that he did not have the facilities to torture her greater. He had found all of these tools in the basement. A fine arsenal used for fine tuning a slave to obedience.
The summoner did not take her own weapons too lightly, it seems. He waved his hand, calm as a single arrow was fired by another slave, burying into her arm as she screamed. Requiem grew bored and had the slaves take her away from him, lest he lose his mind.
They dragged her away and chained her like an animal, throwing her into a cage. Requiem took a quick glance to see them roll the cage down the stairs with her inside it then he shifted his gaze. If his principles were shaken, one would stand unshaken among all, "Repaying evil with a greater evil".
The well being of his enemies mattered just as much as the wind that saddled the sail of ants. He adjusted his position in his seat. Fay entered the throne room, Yver by her side with Margaret behind her. The black haired woman from earlier stood at the far end, following slowly.
"I cannot believe this. You gathered all these slaves, organised them under you will, to what end? Do you seek some sort of authority as the king?" the first to speak was Yver, floating up to glare on a calm Requiem, "This power you own… No. Tell me, mortal. What did you do to me?"
"Welcome, my dearest servants." He announced, his eyes gleaming, "I heard that a massive lizard is making weird moves, causing trouble for the gods. I have decided that I, Requiem, will be the Hero who would help the Gods!"
Help the Gods? No one dared laugh. Yver tried her best to hold it in, but she exploded in a round of laughter moments after Requiem had spoke. After she had a good laugh, the throne room fell into silence once again and everyone stared at Requiem.
His face was stone cold.