Boredom.

For me the star of chaos, a Constellation an entity born from primordial chaos, a fragment of the Void itself boredom should have been impossible. My existence, boundless and eternal, should have been filled with limitless purpose. And yet, for centuries upon centuries, I felt nothing but a hollow tedium gnawing at my core.

The others these so-called "Constellations," beings of unfathomable power and ego were much the same. Our lives were boring, each day blending into the next, a cycle of watching the same mortal patterns play out across countless worlds. Humanity, the fragile creatures below, lived as sparks burning bright only to die quickly, a brief flash in the endless void. I watched them rise and fall, their hopes and tragedies familiar, predictable, and ultimately insignificant.

Then, one day, something extraordinary happened.

From nowhere, a force unlike any we had ever seen manifested across the mortal realms. It struck without warning, igniting an era of chaos and upheaval: the Apocalypse Trials.

The rules of these Trials were as brutal as they were simple. Mortals received a message from something they called the "System" an entity without form or origin. The System informed them that their worlds had been chosen to face the Apocalypse Trials. If they could clear the Scenarios, they would survive. If they failed, their worlds would be destroyed, reduced to nothing but dust in the cosmic winds.

The Trials began spreading like wildfire across countless worlds, each Scenario a unique challenge tailored to exploit the weaknesses, fears, and strengths of the mortals who inhabited them. They were filled with monsters, unsolvable mysteries, impossible moral choices, all tailored to test the limits of humanity. And, remarkably, they were being broadcast in real-time to us, the Constellations.

And managing these Trials, orchestrating each twist and turn, were the Riddlers.

These creatures, spawned from the System's design and infused with a malevolent cleverness, were the architects behind every Scenario. The Riddlers were responsible for orchestrating and streaming the Apocalypse Trials, announcing every fresh horror with a twisted delight, managing each encounter for our amusement. But they did more than narrate the chaos; they controlled the flow of each Scenario, regulating the streams, influencing the pace, and making sure that every struggle, every desperate choice, was witnessed. They even handled the "donations" allowing us Constellations to grant gifts or burdens to the mortals, meddling with their chances of survival on a whim.

The Riddlers were as much a part of the spectacle as the mortals themselves. Their sardonic commentary, their sinister glee in managing each crisis, transformed the Trials into a theater, an endless feast for our starved curiosity.

Suddenly, my stagnant eternity was broken. These Apocalypse Trials were chaos incarnate, a spectacle of survival and ruin unfolding across multiple realms at once. For the first time in centuries, I felt the thrill of uncertainty.

The other Constellations were no different. Those who had grown apathetic with time were now captivated, drawn to the screens like moths to flame, desperate to witness the next Scenario, the next rise and fall of mortal hope. Worlds, dozens, hundreds, thousands of them were at stake, each Trial carrying the potential to erase entire civilizations in one brutal stroke.

It was a revelation. We had no idea who or what had created the Trials. The System was a mystery even to us, its origins hidden, its purpose obscured. All we knew was that it had one goal: to entertain us through the struggle of others. Mortals were pawns in this cosmic theater, and we were the audience, captivated by the apocalypse unfolding in their world.

My curiosity became obsession. The humans fought with a desperate tenacity that I found strangely compelling. Watching them navigate the Trials, clinging to hope against impossible odds, made even the strongest Constellations question their power and motives. Some humans showed a fierce brilliance, rising above the chaos, defying fate. And just as swiftly, others fell, their dreams and lives crushed.

But, as I watched, I began to sense a pattern. The System seemed to have a purpose beyond mere entertainment. With each new Scenario, the Trials grew more complex, as if they were evolving, learning, adapting. Each Apocalypse was not just a test of survival; it seemed to probe the very boundaries of reality, testing the resilience of existence itself. I became convinced the Trials were more than they appeared—a force that could unravel the fabric of the multiverse if left unchecked.

And then, just when I thought I understood the System's twisted game, something unthinkable happened.

A ripple, a shift unlike anything I'd experienced. The cold, calculating hand of the System reached out… for me.

Without warning, I felt a violent pull, as though I were being ripped from the heavens themselves. In an instant, the cosmos around me faded, my power and divine essence stripped away, and I found myself not as a spectator of the Trials but as a participant, trapped within the very game I had once watched with indifference.

For the first time, I understood what it meant to face annihilation.

The System had changed everything, including me. Now, I would face the Trials as a player, a mortal bound by flesh and bones.