In an endless abyss of darkness, the soul that was once inside Amadeus fell, hopeless. From the outside, his body was frozen, unmoving, appearing as if he had given up and surrendered to fate.
Inside his mind and heart burned a fire so fierce it would turn anything it touched into ash. "I can't let this be the end," the soul repeated to itself, and the fire grew bigger and bigger.
It might seem from the outside that he had given up, but inside, he was not ready to let go of his hatred and anger.
"Sacrifice? You've got to be kidding me! Killing a whole family just to please a god, what kind of sick joke is this?" the soul said, clenching its fist.
With the fire reaching its highest levels, symbolizing absolute hatred and wrath, "I prayed to you with all my might to protect my happiness, and how did you answer my prayers?" the soul said, closing its eyes.
"Yes, you answered my prayers with death," the soul said, clenching its teeth.
As the fire passed its limit, something snapped inside the soul. It opened its eyes, revealing something horrifying—eyes so full of hatred that no light could be seen in them. It screamed with all its might, with a menacing voice into the empty abyss, "I DEMAND REVENGE, I DEMAND RETRIBUTION."
"Very well, I shall fulfill your demand," said a mysterious voice, as if the abyss itself was speaking to the soul.
"What? Who is that?" the soul asked, surprised. Before it could get an answer, a rift appeared in the abyss right in front of the soul, and from it emerged a giant hand.
The hand captured the soul and took it as it returned inside the rift.
There, the soul lay on the ground, unconscious. "What just happened? Where am I...?" the soul began, stopping mid-sentence as it saw what was in front of it.
In a place that seemed like a ruined temple, with pillars and rocks floating in the air and surrounded by darkness, he sat on a throne. An old man, whose body was so skinny he looked like a skeleton, with long dark hair and beard, and wearing torn clothes that seemed like they were once royal. A black crown floated above his head with a red gem in the middle, giving him a corpse-like appearance. "You finally woke up. I was afraid you died from dimensional pressure," said the old man sitting on the throne.
"You're not dead? I thought you were a corpse," said the soul, surprised.
"A corpse, well, you're not far from the truth," said the old man. "Let's cut the small talk. That voice, you must be the one that brought me here. So, what do you want from me?" the soul asked, standing up and facing the old man.
"Didn't I answer that question before I brought you here? I will fulfill your demands," said the old man.
"So, you're going to help me take revenge on High Priest Archibald and Paladin Baldwin?" the soul asked, skeptical and mocking the old man.
"They are but a small part of your revenge," said the old man.
"What do you mean?" the soul asked, confused.
"Why don't you see this first, then we'll talk," said the old man, his eyes glowing red.
"Aaaaah!" the soul screamed in pain, falling to its knees as its head felt like it was going to explode from the memories from other worlds and lives.
There were hundreds of them. In one life, he was named Roman, a front-line soldier in a holy crusade to bring glory to the gods. He lived his life by the sword, facing death every second, but in the end, he was betrayed by his commander, who sent him and his comrades to die.
In another life, he was named Dante and grew up in an orphanage, only knowing loneliness his whole life. He was bullied and crushed by society. Being smart made it worse because jealousy can turn people into monsters. He died after falling onto the train tracks while running from his bullies.
In yet another life, he was named Luca, a successful merchant who made his fortune from nothing with sweat and blood on his own. He was betrayed by his wife, whom he loved dearly. She stole all his fortune and left him in debt he couldn't pay, so he ended up becoming a slave and dying from hunger and thirst, a slow and painful death in a cell underground with a chain around his neck like an animal.
As he saw more and more, it became clear that throughout his multiple lives, he faced the same fate: suffering and then dying a miserable death.
After the soul calmed down and the pain subsided, he stood up, showing a completely different demeanor—a calm and menacing presence. Now, he was not 15-year-old Amadeus, but a man who had lived multiple lives, his combined experiences making him thousands of years old.
"So, who should I take my revenge from?" the soul asked, barely holding his sanity together. Now he held not only the hatred and regret of Amadeus but of all his past lives.
"You see, you're a special case. You've been reincarnated hundreds of times, whereas usually only people who die having done a great action, or what you call a hero's death, have the chance to reincarnate, and even then, their memories are wiped so they can have another chance at life," said the old man.
"So, in all my lives, I haven't done anything worth having a reincarnation? Is that what you mean by special case?" the soul asked.
"Wrong. There were cases of people reincarnating without a worthy death, but even if it was a worthy death, the most anyone has reincarnated since the start of creation was twice," said the old man, lifting two fingers.
"What? Does that mean I am loved by the gods so much that they keep giving me multiple chances at life?" the soul asked jokingly.
"The opposite. To give you all these lives that have the same fate, they must hate you—or should I say he must hate you," said the old man.
"Who is he? Tell me right now," the soul demanded, barely holding back his rage.
"The only god that can grant reincarnation to mortals is the God of Creation," said the old man, with hatred in his eyes.
"I never heard of such a god in all my lives," said the soul, doubting the old man's words.
"Weird. How can you not know him when you have been his loyal follower throughout all your lives?" the old man asked, surprised.
"It can't be," said the soul, not believing his thoughts.
"I might have used an ancient name. I guess now he goes by the name of..." before the old man could complete his sentence, he was interrupted by the soul, who said in disbelief, "The God of Light, Alpha."
The old man smiled and said, "Correct."
As the soul searched through his memories, he found out that the god he was fighting for as Roman was Alpha, the god of light. The orphanage that Dante was raised in was named the Orphanage of the God of Light, Alpha. Finally, Luca was sold as a slave to the Church of the God of Light, where he died in its dungeon. In all his lives, the God of Light had a big role to play in his suffering.
The soul was silent for a while, then it said, "Why? Why make me suffer all this? For what reason?"
The old man replied, "I do not know exactly the reason, but I can guess that he saw you as his favorite toy."
Silence filled the room.
"A toy, you say," the soul thought to itself.
"And that's the reason I brought you here. The gods have lost their purpose and are doing whatever they want. So, we have to put a stop to this," said the old man.
"You want to fight all the gods? With what power? Don't make me laugh," said the soul.
"I will forgive your insult this time. I guess I haven't introduced myself yet," said the old man, looking straight at the soul. Then he said with a menacing voice, "I am OMEGA, the God of the End, and the twin brother of Alpha, the God of Creation."
The soul exploded in laughter. "You, a god? It seems you weren't that strong."
Suddenly, the soul's body started to vibrate violently, causing immense pain so much that he could not scream. "Tell me, how does it feel being ripped from the inside, slowly and painfully?" said OMEGA as he lowered his hand.
The vibration stopped when he lowered his hand. "Watch your words. I tend to be short-tempered," said OMEGA, looking down at the soul.
"So, how did you end up here?" the soul asked as it rose.
"Well, it's not a long story. You see, we gods were created, each with a purpose to help mortals. But when these same gods forget their purpose and start following their desires, they lose themselves. That's what happened to my brother. When I tried to make him return to the right path, he united the gods against me and imprisoned me for eternity in this place," said OMEGA, full of regret.
"And you didn't try to break free?" the soul asked.
"Do you see the throne I am sitting on? It was once glorious, an art piece full of carvings made from gold, a legend. But look at it now. Half of it is destroyed, and what's left is full of cracks and barely standing. The throne and I are alike; both of us are a shell of our former selves," said OMEGA, looking at the throne.
"Anyway, enough talk about the past. Now we should talk about our future," said OMEGA.
"What do you mean by 'our future'?" asked the soul.
As OMEGA leaned back on the throne, he said, "So tell me, the soul that has been tortured by the gods for thousands of years, are you ready to make a deal with me to take your revenge?"