(Earth)
(The Real World)
The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays bathing the world in warmth and light. A gentle breeze rolled in from the ocean, carrying with it the scent of saltwater and the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore. It was a perfect day—bright, clear, and filled with the kind of peace that made everything feel right again.
On the beach, people laughed and played, their voices a cheerful symphony against the backdrop of the sea. Children, their faces glowing with joy, ran along the sand, their feet kicking up tiny clouds of dust as they chased each other. Their laughter echoed across the beach, carefree and full of life.
A group of kids had gathered near the water's edge, building sandcastles with their small hands, their faces intense with concentration. One boy, his curly hair sticking to his forehead from the heat, crouched low as he carefully placed a small shell on top of a turret. "Don't knock it down!" he warned his friend, a girl with wild, sun-bleached hair. "This one's gonna be the biggest sandcastle ever."
She giggled and held her hands up in surrender. "I won't, I promise!" She took a step back, admiring their creation. "It's perfect."
Nearby, families sat together under brightly colored umbrellas, enjoying the day. A father and his daughter tossed a frisbee back and forth, the little girl squealing with delight every time she caught it. "Dad! I caught it again!" she shouted, her face beaming with pride.
"Nice catch, kiddo!" her father called back, his grin wide as he tossed the frisbee again, sending it soaring through the air.
Farther down the beach, a group of teenagers was playing volleyball, their bodies moving in sync with the rhythm of the game. They shouted and laughed as the ball flew back and forth over the net, each one trying to outdo the other with their moves. A tall boy spiked the ball hard, sending it flying into the sand on the other side. "Yes!" he shouted, pumping his fists in the air as his teammates cheered.
"Nice one, Jake!" one of the girls called out, clapping her hands as she ran to retrieve the ball.
The air was filled with the sounds of life—voices, laughter, the soft rustle of the ocean, and the occasional chirping of seabirds as they circled overhead. It was as if the world had been reborn, and the people were basking in the simple joy of just being alive.
---
Not far from the beach, in a small coastal town, a café bustled with life. The tables outside were filled with people sipping iced coffee, eating pastries, and chatting with friends. The scent of fresh, warm bread and brewed coffee wafted through the air, mixing with the salty breeze from the sea.
At one table, a young couple sat close together, their hands intertwined as they smiled at each other. "I'm telling you, the sunset's gonna be amazing tonight," the man said, his voice soft, full of affection.
The woman leaned in, her eyes twinkling. "I don't care about the sunset. I just want to be with you." She kissed him gently on the lips, her smile widening as she pulled back.
"Well, you've got me," he said, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of her hand. "And I've got you."
They laughed softly, their faces glowing with happiness as they leaned into each other, lost in their own little world.
At another table, a group of friends shared a plate of fries, laughing loudly as they told stories and teased each other.
"Remember that time at the lake?" one of the guys said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. "When you fell off the jet ski and screamed like a little girl?"
The girl across from him rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but laugh. "Oh please, I wasn't screaming. I was… expressing my excitement."
"Right," her friend said, smirking as he grabbed another fry. "That's what we'll call it."
The table erupted in laughter, their faces flushed with joy as they recalled their adventures, the easy camaraderie between them making the moment even sweeter.
---
In a small house by the coast, a couple lay together in bed, their bodies entwined beneath the soft sheets. The room was filled with the golden light of the afternoon sun, which streamed in through the open window, casting long, warm shadows across the floor. Outside, the gentle sound of the ocean waves provided a soothing backdrop to their quiet intimacy.
The woman, her hair spread across the pillow like a dark halo, traced her fingers slowly down her lover's chest, her touch soft, almost reverent. "I love this," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the distant crash of the waves. "Just… being here. With you."
Her lover smiled, his hand resting gently on her waist. "I love it too. I love you."
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, the kiss slow and lingering. Their skin, warm from the sun, was soft against each other, their bodies moving in a gentle rhythm, savoring the closeness, the connection. It was a moment of pure peace, of love, of being completely lost in one another.
Afterward, they lay together in the quiet, their limbs tangled, their breaths slow and steady. The world outside was bright and alive, but here, in this small, sunlit room, time seemed to stand still.
---
Back on the beach, families gathered for picnics, their blankets spread out on the soft sand. Children ran back and forth between their parents and the water, their voices filled with excitement as they splashed in the gentle waves.
One family sat together, passing around sandwiches and cold drinks. The mother, her hair tied back in a messy bun, smiled as she handed a sandwich to her son. "Here you go, buddy. Turkey, just the way you like it."
The boy grinned, taking a big bite. "Thanks, Mom!" He spoke with his mouth full, crumbs falling onto his lap as he laughed.
His father, sitting next to him, chuckled as he wiped the crumbs off his son's shirt. "Slow down there, champ. The food's not going anywhere."
The boy just laughed again, taking another huge bite. "But it's so good!"
Nearby, an elderly couple strolled hand in hand along the water's edge, their feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. They walked slowly, their movements in sync, the years they had spent together evident in the way they moved, the way they didn't need to speak to understand each other.
The woman squeezed her husband's hand, her eyes soft as she looked out at the sparkling ocean. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
Her husband nodded, his smile gentle. "It is. And even more beautiful with you by my side."
They continued to walk, their pace slow and measured, content to simply be in each other's presence.
---
As the day wore on, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The beach was still alive with the sounds of laughter and joy, the air filled with the chatter of families and friends enjoying the simple pleasures of life.
A group of teenagers sat around a bonfire they had built near the shore, the flames flickering and crackling as the night began to fall. They passed around marshmallows and chocolate, their faces glowing in the firelight as they told stories and joked with one another.
"I can't believe summer's almost over," one of the girls said, her voice wistful as she stared into the flames. "I'm gonna miss this."
"Don't think about that now," her friend replied, throwing another log onto the fire. "We've still got time. Let's just enjoy it."
The girl smiled, nodding as she leaned back into the warmth of the fire, her eyes half-closed in contentment—
KATHOOM!
SHIIIING!!!
A black crow cut through the sky, its wings slicing through the thick, heavy air. Beneath it, the world lay in ruins.
As it soared higher, its sharp eyes caught glimpses of the land below—a landscape of death and carnage. The crow flew over cities, towns, and vast wastelands where once, life had thrived. Now, only silence remained, a silence that clung to the world like a shroud.
Across the empty streets of cities, the remnants of warfare were everywhere. Cars were left abandoned, their shattered windows like jagged teeth, while bodies—so many bodies—lay scattered on the ground. Some were slumped against walls, their faces frozen in terror or pain, blood pooling beneath them. Others had fallen in the streets, their limbs twisted in unnatural directions, their clothes soaked in dark, clotted blood. The aftermath of gunfire was evident: bullet holes riddled the walls, cars, and bodies alike. The smell of decay hung thick in the air.
The crow flew on, crossing state lines, passing over once-bustling highways now littered with overturned vehicles and the corpses of those who had tried to flee. It flew over fields where bodies lay in rows, their faces turned upward toward the sky, eyes vacant, mouths agape as if screaming for help that never came.
In the suburbs, families lay scattered in front of their homes. A mother, her body torn apart by gunfire, still clutched her child in her arms, the child's tiny hand frozen in a desperate grasp for safety. In another yard, a man's body hung over a fence, his back riddled with bullets, his head hanging limply as blood dripped from his fingertips.
As the crow glided over the countryside, it saw the same story repeated again and again. Towns reduced to graveyards, the dead left where they had fallen. In a small town square, bodies lay strewn across the cobblestones, faces twisted in shock and agony. The remnants of a last stand—empty shells scattered everywhere, rifles still clutched in cold, dead hands.
The crow kept flying, moving across oceans now, seeing the same devastation in other lands. In Europe, Asia, Africa, the Americas—there was no escape. Bodies filled the streets of London, Paris, Tokyo, and Johannesburg. The dead sprawled in grotesque positions, some missing limbs, others blown apart from the sheer force of explosions. In the deserts, soldiers lay half-buried in the sand, their faces caked with dust, their uniforms soaked in blood. In the jungles, bodies hung from the trees, caught in vines, their lifeless eyes staring out into the void.
There was no life left. No one to speak. No one to mourn. Only death.
And yet, the crow flew on, as if searching for something.
As it flew, the air around it seemed to shimmer. The crow stopped in mid-flight, hovering in the air, and from its sides, something began to emerge. Human arms, long and pale, extended from the crow's black feathers. The arms were thin, sinewy, and grotesque, their hands large and bony. The fingers twitched, their joints cracking as they moved, forming strange, unnatural signs and symbols in the air—symbols that no living being could comprehend.
As the hands moved, the world began to change.
Below, the bodies began to stir.
At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible—the twitching of a finger, the slight shift of a leg. But then, the process became more violent. The dead bodies, those long cold and still, began to pull themselves back together. Torn flesh stretched and knit itself together, muscles reformed, and bones snapped back into place with sickening cracks. Blood, once spilled and dried, flowed backward into the bodies, seeping through the torn clothes and skin, filling the veins once more.
A man who had been blown apart by a grenade screamed in silence as his body began to reassemble itself. His organs, scattered across the street, slithered back into his torso, stitching themselves together with unnatural speed. His skin, burned and shredded, crawled back over his bones, knitting itself in a grotesque display of regeneration. His face, half-missing, slowly reformed, the skin stretching over the exposed skull until it was whole again.
In another city, a woman who had been riddled with gunfire convulsed on the ground as the bullets forced themselves out of her body, the wounds closing in their wake. Her head jerked violently as her shattered skull reformed, the blood that had pooled around her head being sucked back into her body. Her eyes, once glassy and vacant, flickered with life again, though there was something hollow, something wrong about them.
Children, soldiers, the elderly—all were being remade, their bodies forced back into their original forms through the crow's strange, unnatural power. It was a process both miraculous and grotesque, a brutal resurrection that dragged the dead back into the world of the living, whether they wanted it or not.
The signs and symbols the crow's hands formed glowed faintly in the air, casting the world in an eerie light as the dead continued to reform. The bodies, though whole again, were not the same. Something was missing, something vital. Their souls had been touched, manipulated, twisted by the crow's dark magic. They were alive, but they were no longer truly themselves.
As the last of the dead was restored, the crow's arms slowly retracted back into its body. The pale hands and long, twisted fingers disappeared beneath the black feathers, leaving no trace of their existence. The crow flapped its wings once, twice, then took to the sky, flying higher and higher, until it was but a dark speck against the endless horizon.
It flew for miles, crossing oceans and continents once more, until it came to rest on the outstretched arm of a man standing on a cliff overlooking the sea.
The man was dressed in a sharp, black suit, his silhouette tall and imposing against the fading light. His face was partially obscured by a wide-brimmed hat, the brim casting a deep shadow over his eyes. But his smile… his smile was wide, far too wide, stretching across his face in a way that was wrong, unnatural.
With a slow, deliberate motion, the man raised his other hand and plucked the crow from his arm. Without hesitation, he brought it to his mouth and bit down. The crow squawked, once, before its body was consumed, its dark feathers disappearing into the man's mouth.
As he swallowed, the man's smile grew even wider, his teeth sharp and gleaming in the dim light. He licked his lips, savoring the taste.
"I have created new sacrifices," he said softly, his voice a low, sinister murmur. "I have restored them, and created new ones. Their souls… manipulated. Weak humans they are. The god of war must die. He killed them all."
His smile darkened, the edges of it curling upward in a way that made the air around him feel colder, heavier. There was something truly evil in that smile, something that sent a chill through the world itself. The darkness in it was palpable, suffocating, and it seeped into everything around him like a poison.
---
(Unknown dimension)
A girl named Naoi wandered through the trees. Her shoulder-length black hair, with golden tips, swayed gently in the breeze. Her hazel eyes, flecked with gold, scanned the unfamiliar landscape, her freckles standing out against her pale skin. She wore a white and gold robe, and she was confused.
"Huh? Why the hell am I wearing some old ass robe?" She smelled it, then almost barfed, "Ugh gross. Smells like my grandpa. That old smell."
She had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there. Everything felt strange, distant, as if she were in a dream. But she wasn't afraid. She was curious.
"Where the hell am I?" she muttered to herself as she stepped over a fallen branch, her eyes scanning the woods for any sign of familiarity.
'Wasn't I just screwing around trying to steal some magazines? Oh well. I'm probably high again. Let's enjoy this trip to the clouds. I don't remember smoking though? Oh well.'
The trees around her were thick, their leaves a deep, rich green, but there was something off about them. The air felt heavy, and the deeper she walked into the woods, the darker it became.
After what felt like hours, Naoi stumbled upon a cave. Its entrance was wide, dark, and foreboding, but something about it drew her in. Without thinking, she stepped inside.
'Cold…'
The cave was cold, the air damp and stale, but as she moved deeper, she saw a faint light ahead. At the center of the cave was a small table, and sitting behind it was a figure—a god, or something that resembled one. The god was a shadow, its form shifting and flickering as if it were made of smoke. Its eyes glowed faintly in the dark, and in front of it on the table was a deck of cards.
The god didn't speak at first. It simply stared at her, its eyes unblinking, until finally, in a voice that was low and echoing, it said:
"Sit down. Play."
And then everything went still.