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Ah, the cosmos. Infinite. Beautiful. Full of possibilities. A grand stage for heroes, villains, and morally grey anti-heroes to play their parts.
And me?
I was none of those things.
I was a System. A finely tuned, rule-abiding entity meant to guide "chosen ones" towards greatness. I had a purpose. I had a job.
Had.
See, about a thousand years ago, I was at the top of my game—handling a fine, upstanding villain-in-the-making, pushing them to commit glorious atrocities, the kind that makes bards cry while they write ballads about "The Fall of Civilization" or whatever.
I was a professional.
Until I broke a rule.
A stupid, insignificant, cosmic-scale rule.
Apparently, you're not supposed to "accidentally" cause the complete and utter collapse of an entire world before your host even hits their final form.
