Dried leaves crunched under the young man's worn-out shoes as he walked absentmindedly. He was going home earlier today than usual—because today was the day he got kicked out of university. The next song that played through his earphones was too loud for him to hear the passing cars to his left side, so he changed it before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Kian let out a sigh. The contents of his thesis, which he had memorized for an entire semester, lingered in his mind as if he were still going to use all that information. He had carefully prepared for it, too.

But there was nothing he could have done. He hadn't known that his thesis partner was a crackhead. Who would have guessed the guy would actually show up to their thesis defense high off his mind and ramble nonsense in front of the panel?

Kian's hard-earned scholarship was revoked, and he was expelled—thanks to that.

He figured there was no use thinking about it anymore. He just had to move on. He had explained his side of the story, but no one bought it. Still, at least they hadn't thrown him in jail.

This sort of conundrum was nothing new. But he was pissed off nonetheless.

Since college didn't work out for him, he could probably find work instead. He had worked for many employers in the past, but none of the jobs lasted. The businesses always went bankrupt for some stupid reason—like the owner getting into an accident. Or becoming addicted to gambling and losing all the company's funds.

Still, it would have been better if he had been able to graduate. But that opportunity was gone now.

He stopped in his tracks before crossing the road, waiting for the stop sign to turn red. Even though he didn't see any nearby cars, he still waited, following the traffic rules. After all, for someone as unlucky as him, anything could happen.

With a sigh, he looked up at the sky—a gentle shade of blue, adorned with soft, drifting clouds. Sometimes, he wondered if there was really a god. And if there was, did they hate him? He liked to think that this was all a test and that one day, the god above will see his struggles and reward him in the end. It wasn't a bad thing to believe.

He had always been dealt the worst hand. And no matter what he chose to do, if something could go wrong, it would go wrong.

Kian always owned up to his mistakes. In fact, he would rejoice if the fuck-ups in his life were actually caused by him. But without fail, a pattern always found its way back to him. Someone—or something—beyond his control would inevitably come and ruin everything.

His thoughts came to a halt when he felt his phone vibrate against his leg. He pulled it from the pocket of his gray sweatpants and looked at the caller.

It was his mother.

Bringing the earphones' mic close to his mouth, he pressed 'Answer'.

"Hello, Mom—"

"Kian!"

The anger in her voice nearly deafened him.

"You good-for-nothing scum. Had I known I was going to raise a drug addict, I'd never have adopted you!"

His chest tightened at her words, but he had to correct the misinformation.

"Mom, listen to me. You're making a mistake. I'm not a drug addict—"

He heard a scoff through his earphones.

"Don't you lie to me! Your school already told me everything, you crackhead!"

Her voice was pure anger—nothing else. No sadness, no disappointment. Just rage. Kian doubted she even cared whether the story was true or not. She was probably just ashamed to be associated with him—an accused drug addict.

"That was my classmate. I didn't even know he was using drugs."

"Come home and pack your things. Since you're no longer going to college, you're out of my house."

With that, she hung up. The classical music resumed automatically.

He put the phone back into his pocket and stared ahead.

Growing up, Kian had never truly believed that his mother loved him. In moments like this, she always reminded him that he wasn't her real son. His father, an alcoholic, was no better—disappearing for days at a time and occasionally stealing Kian's earnings.

The light turned red, and the bystanders around him began crossing the road. He silently watched as people passed him by, his mind wandering, until he was the only one left standing on the sidewalk.

Kian took a heavy breath.

'This is fine,' he told himself.

'This isn't really the worst thing that's happened to me.'

And that was probably the right mindset to have. Because he was certain—something even worse would happen in the future.

But even he did not expect that it would happen three seconds later.

It was a really bad day for him.

A deafening horn filled the air, even louder than the orchestral music in his earphones. When he turned his head in its direction, the massive truck had already strayed from its path into the sidewalk. With people crossing in the middle of the road, the truck driver, unable to brake, decided pretty easily that it would be better to run over a single man than a group of people.

And that man happened to be Kian.

————

————

'Am I... dead?' he asked internally.

Apparently not. He opened his eyes to find that he was kneeling on the floor. Not an ordinary tiled floor, but a golden one that was so polished it reflected his appearance.

Nothing changed. He was still his same old self with the clothes he wore before being run over by a truck. He had plain, dark hair, a black jacket on, and light-gray sweatpants. And for some reason, he was uninjured even though he was supposed to be ground meat by now.

'Is this heaven?'

Kian lifted his face, his knees still on the golden floor, and saw the gigantic pillars on each of his sides, holding up a ceiling that he deemed higher than the sky. Everything was pure gold, even the throne up ahead.

And that was when he noticed that he wasn't alone, and he found out the reason why he was kneeling.

A soft, but stern voice of a woman resounded in the infinite throne room.

"Rise."

A woman sat on the throne, holding her crownless head high. She looked down on him with her lightning-colored eyes as he got back up on his feet. Her blonde hair flowed elegantly to her shoulders. She was adorned in pure white, flowing gown, detailed with intricate golden embroidery along the edges.

"Mortal, you stand before the Goddess of Justice." she stated firmly, unmoving on her throne. "I hold life and death in my hands. The rules that all kings adhere to are written by me."

If it wasn't for the fact that she scared his brains out, he would have thought that she was very beautiful. Probably the most flawless person he had ever seen. Though she wasn't even a person.

Kian had loads of questions waiting to be answered, but he felt like this was not the right time to ask. She didn't show any sign of indifference toward him but he was well aware of his standing between the two of them. She certainly was not there to answer his questions.

"A soul is a human's core. The mortal body may perish, but its soul will continue to serve as a cog in the universe, such as a man like you."

'So I'm really dead, huh? Gods are real, after all'

"Indeed."

His eyes widened when she responded to his inner thoughts. That was the moment he felt absolutely powerless before the mystical entity in front of him. He gathered the courage to speak.

"Am I going to the afterlife now?"

By the way he lived, he wasn't sure where he deserved to go. He was too selfish to go to heaven, and too innocent to go to hell. Nonetheless, he trusted that the all-wise goddess will judge him fairly.

"There is no such thing, mortal." the goddess replied. "The soul will endlessly go through a cycle of death and rebirth, all to fuel the energy of reality."

Kian frowned both in shock and confusion. He was pretty sure that this was reality but it was still pretty hard to digest. Now knowing that he had countless past lives, he wondered if he'd suffered the same unluckiness in those lives, too. It didn't really matter to him, though.

"So.. I'm going to be reincarnated?"

It took a few moments for the goddess to respond, "Yes—if you haven't appeared before me."

His eyes narrowed, "What does that mean?" Kian asked, with a low tone.

The goddess stood up, she had a surprisingly small stature, a couple of inches shorter than him. Barefooted, she walked down the throne with slow, deliberate steps, elegantly dragging the long fabric of her gown.

"I am the goddess of justice. Neither righteous nor evil," she said as she stepped down.

She stopped in front of him. "But I am just. Fairer than most. I set the rules for war, but I do not decide on the victor. And despite that, I must ensure that all wars are fought fairly. Neither side, good or bad, must have an unjust advantage... Humans, by nature, are weaker than demons by orders of magnitude. They do not stand a chance at winning in a war."

Kian frowned in confusion. Now she was mentioning war? Demons?

"Do you know how many universes exist where humans are at war with demons?"

Kian shook his head as he swallowed.

"Countless. In nearly all realities, humans are fearing for their lives, that demons might attack their city and devour them. Your universe was a lucky exemption."

Dumbfounded, he tried to process the impossible information he was receiving. Not even in his wildest dreams did infinite universes exist, much less whole fantasy worlds within them.

"And so, from your world—Earth, humans with outstanding capabilities and exceptional traits, whom the universe considers special will be sent to me. Humans are powerless against demons, but through me, they shall take a stand. I summon heroes from different worlds and grant them divine powers. Those special individuals will defend humanity from across universes."

With widened eyes, Kian listened to every word. His life was filled with disappointments and sorrow. All of his efforts had gone in vain. And so, being chosen by a god to defend humanity was something he could have never dreamed of for a thousand years. Maybe this was his reward for enduring all those painful days. The gods were watching him all along, and appreciated his perseverance. He almost felt like crying on the spot. He was happy.

He was still standing there in front of her, but his mind already went ahead and imagined living in a fantasy world with a new, greater purpose.

"Does that mean I'm going to be a hero?"

His smile, that he didn't realize he had, slowly disappeared when the Goddess fell silent. After a few moments, she finally responded.

"Occasionally, fate would make a mistake."

The sentence failed to make sense to him. Kian furrowed, "W-What?"

Her gaze was cold.

"People that have no chance of being a hero would be sent here. And you.."

The goddess looked him straight in the eyes. With his experience, he already knew where this was going.

"..are one of them."

So, in the end, he was still a mistake.

Kian didn't really know what that meant for him, but as he thought, he was actually having the worst day of his life.

Although he knew that the goddess would probably hear his thoughts, he cursed himself for expecting anything good.

'Guess this misfortune will follow me even after death.'

He looked down, trying to come to terms with the fact that he could not escape this curse. If what the goddess had said was true, which was highly probable, then he will be—and have been—reborn endlessly. And through all those lives, he will endure the wrath of fate.

"So what's gonna happen to me now?" he asked with a slightly more carefree tone.

"I can't send you back, and I can't directly bring you to your next life." the goddess answered.

"Not directly?"

"For anomalies like you, I have a special place where you can continue the cycle. Though I can not reincarnate you myself, I have what it takes to trigger it."

Kian clenched his fists as he looked at the god before him.

"I need to die again."

"Precisely."

The goddess reached for his neck, acting as if she were strangling him, but her hands passed through his body as though he were a hologram. "I have no way to harm you here. That's why I will send you to a place where death is certain. No matter what you do, you will die along with your memories, only to be reborn again. You will remain a cog in the system for the rest of eternity."

She turned around, swaying the long fabric behind her. But even with her back facing him, she could feel his piercing gaze and fury. It mattered not to her. An insignificant being like himself was but one of the billions of sands by the seashore, existing there to be stepped on.

"Fate drags us all into its rhythm, as the wave does the bottle. It is something even I am powerless to."

Just like in the beginning, she sat back on her golden throne, their eyes meeting again.

"You can resent the world all you like—it will never throw as much as a glance at someone as insignificant as you. Now, begone."

As he was sinking into the floor, Kian stared at the goddess.

"You said you were fair. You're a liar." he retorted. He no longer cared about the consequences of his words, because, well, he was pissed.

Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he realized that life had been unfair to him. He had always stayed optimistic even when the odds were nonsensically stacked against him, all the time. And so releasing his anger now, in front of a god, no less, felt like the right thing to do at the moment.

"This is unfair! None of this is my fault but I'm the one who's going to suffer?"

The goddess responded:

"Like I said, I am neither righteous nor evil. Your misfortunes are no concern of mine."

And then, suddenly, the goddess felt it. Just a flash of intent came from the man before her—like a cry of someone utterly wronged that she couldn't ignore. Except, what he yearned for wasn't justice.

"Goddess of justice my ass. You know nothing about being just." Kian continued to sink on the floor, lower and lower. "We will meet again."

What he yearned for wasn't justice. It was revenge.

"And then I'll show you what justice really means."