Caine stood in the center of an awe-inspiring, grand hall forged from gleaming purple-gold. Every detail of the room, from the towering pillars to the intricately designed floor, radiated an otherworldly majesty.
At the far end, a gigantic throne loomed before him, as colossal as a mountain, its sheer size dwarfing even the tallest structures he had ever seen. His teammates, visibly tense, stood behind him, their breaths held in anticipation.
PAH!
Suddenly, an overwhelming gust of Qi rushed through the hall, forcing them all off their feet. The air shimmered with an electric intensity as thin filaments of energy began to materialize, interweaving in an intricate dance to form a figure seated upon the grand throne. The entity took shape slowly, as if sculpted by the cosmos itself.
Long, white hair cascaded down its back like a river of flowing silk. The figure's naked body was a perfect blend of strength and grace, every muscle exquisitely sculpted and adorned with glowing runic tattoos that pulsed with ancient power. Its eyes—scarlet pupils that seemed to pierce through reality—radiated both wisdom and an unimaginable, terrifying strength.
This androgynous being was the very embodiment of perfection, an entity that seemed to transcend any mortal understanding of beauty or power.
Its aura was overwhelming, endlessly potent, yet strangely gentle. It did not crush them with its sheer might; instead, its presence seeped into their minds like a whisper from the heavens. They felt a natural compulsion to bow before it, as if in the presence of a true god. The reverence it commanded was automatic, primal, and all-encompassing.
Caine, who had unconsciously been drawn into this web of awe, quickly shook himself free from the trance. He stood up, dusting off his robes before waving his hand to wake his teammates. One by one, they recovered from their daze, regaining composure, but the impression left by the entity was indelible.
"Well done," the figure said, its voice ringing with a heavenly melody that reverberated within their very souls. "It has been a long time since a full team has reached my throne. Usually, one of you perishes along the way."
The divine tone of the being sent shivers down Caine's spine. He could feel his soul tremble once more, instinctively filling with awe. He frowned to himself, thinking, 'So this is the nature of a true divine being... And I doubt this is even its real form. How terrifying.'
The figure smiled, as if sensing Caine's thoughts. "I am Augustine, a noble Yama Heir, sent down to these lower realms of Samsara to guide those who prove worthy of redemption."
Caine made a mental note of this crucial information but wisely kept silent, waiting for Augustine to continue.
"As you may or may not know," Augustine went on, "if a team reaches my throne with none having died, the circumstances change."
Caine and his teammates tensed at this. A flicker of disappointment threatened to bloom in their minds, but before any negative emotions could take root, Augustine spoke again, his smile deepening.
"The Fate Defier of the team will still be granted three wishes, but…" Augustine paused, amused by the reactions he sensed. "…each of the Defiers in the team will also be granted one wish."
Their eyes widened in surprise.
Caine, who had been prepared to sacrifice his own wishes to ensure the success of his plan, felt a wave of unexpected relief wash over him.
For a brief moment during their journey, he had even considered killing his teammates, unwilling to let them jeopardize the intricate strategy he had woven for the future. But now, everything was falling into place perfectly.
Augustine, clearly entertained by their reactions, rested his chin on his closed fist and waved a casual hand. "Go ahead. I'll give you a few minutes to discuss among yourselves."
Immediately, the group huddled together, their excitement bubbling over. They spoke in hushed but eager tones, deliberating over what their wishes would be. They already knew that Caine had his own plans in mind, so they didn't bother consulting him.
However, a realization quickly struck them: while each of them had only one wish, there were nine of them in total. If one of them wished for something that could apply to all, wouldn't that maximize their collective gain?
Caine chuckled as he observed their animated discussion. He could feel the excitement building among them, and in truth, he had anticipated this outcome.
He had prepared for it over the years, filling their minds with countless suggestions for potential wishes, but now the moment had come for them to make the final decision.
Looking toward Augustine, Caine's curiosity got the better of him. "Sir Augustine," he called, his voice unusually casual, "mind if I ask you a question?"
The informal tone seemed to catch Augustine slightly off guard. His brows lifted, but he smiled nonetheless, gesturing for Caine to continue. "Go ahead, Caine."
"What did you do to get thrown down here? And more importantly, who did you offend, and whose pawn are you?"
A ripple of silence followed Caine's words. Most would have been shocked, perhaps even enraged by such an audacious question. But Augustine remained unmoved, showing no more reaction than when Caine had addressed him informally moments before.
Instead, Augustine hummed softly, stroking his chin as if in deep thought. "Quite perceptive, aren't you?" he remarked. "I'll answer, but first, tell me what led you to such a conclusion."
Caine smiled and sat down cross-legged, relaxing as if they were old friends. "You're young and inexperienced. I'd bet anything on that. You're surely much older than me in terms of years, but I'd wager you're little more than a toddler in whatever supreme race you come from, no?"
Augustine raised a brow, intrigued.
"This matters," Caine continued, "because entities with true experience hate those like me. The powerful loathe uncontrolled chaos, and I embody it. You, on the other hand, don't seem to harbor any ill will toward me, which is a clear sign of your youth."
"Still not enough," Augustine remarked, though his eyes glimmered with interest.
"You're right," Caine admitted, "for most, that wouldn't be enough to draw conclusions. But for me, it is."
He slicked his hair back, exuding an air of analytical clarity. "From there, it's quite easy to connect the dots. The fact that Reapers are born from fallen gods and Defiers implies that there's a higher authority that transcends them. Otherwise, it'd be a paradox, especially since Reapers are clearly artificial, not born naturally."
"You saying you've come down here confirms this, and the fact that you're a Yama and not a Reaper solidifies it."
Caine paused, watching as Augustine's interest deepened.
"Now, if we link back to my earlier remark about you being young, the picture becomes clearer. It's a simple story, really. A young noble within a higher world is sent down here as punishment for, let's say, having too much ambition. But that raises another question—why couldn't you buy your way out of it? After all, that's the hallmark of nobility, right? So, why are you the exception?"
Caine leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "That implies one of two things—or perhaps both. Either there's a centralized force that balances even you Yama nobles, and they enforced your punishment. Or… you wanted to come down here. To do something out of sight."
A smile crossed Caine's face. "Now I've found the painted picture, I've found the painter, and I just need to identify the buyer."
"The rest is simple," Caine concluded, locking eyes with Augustine. "You're a traitor, aren't you?"
Augustine froze, his perfect composure cracking for the briefest of moments.
"A traitor turned double agent," Caine continued. "You play for both sides, enslaved by one and protected by the other. Two entities using you as their tool in a delicate game of power."
Caine chuckled. "And what's most amusing is that this means there's likely an even higher power above them, regulating the whole thing."
He sighed, leaning back as if it were all just a casual street echo. "Politics, truly, are fun."