“All untainted paths lead to the one truth.”
Dramatic, right? Cool? Interesting maybe?
It sounded like the kind of thing someone would say right before something really awful happened to you. And sure enough, it totally did.
There he was—the “Villain,” wrapped in glowing chains, sitting on a throne, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Across from him stood the “Hero,” flanked by not one, not two, but four “Heroines.”
To top it all off, floating between them was a giant projection—a highlight reel of all his “evil,” broadcasting his memories like it was prime-time entertainment.
But now… where do I, the narrator, come in all of this?
You see that “Villain?” It’s me.
I became him, taking over body and all.
Certainly not my average Monday, that’s for sure.
So you’re probably wondering how I ended up here, right?
No? Doesn’t matter, let me tell you.
It all started when…
***
A man of obvious strength stood among the passing and going of a busy path, wearing a high-spec augmented suit.
He wasn’t moving, just staring up at the darkening sky, golden eyes fixed on the ten moons high above.
Judging by the irritated grumbles of people weaving around him, this wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary.
Seemed like stopping dead to moon-gaze was his daily routine.
He was a thorn in their otherwise monotonous commute and every word they sent his way they saw as justified.
Who did this “retarded bastard” think he was—a main character or something?
Honestly, he just appeared like he lacked a few chromosomes.
But… unfortunately for them, none of their curses reached his ears.
The man was simply too immersed in his thoughts.
‘…Just what am I doing?’
He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound, before shutting those thoughts down and starting to move, blending into the flow of people.
The last time he let himself spiral, things certainly hadn’t ended well.
Shivering slightly, he shook his head and took a deep breath, calming himself.
‘Yeah… never again.’
With that, the man returned to his previous countenance, calm and steady.
The sea of people guided him to a long queue, where those dressed like him had lined up.
He went past them and approached what appeared to be an automaton, standing in the middle of the pathway.
Without saying a word, he took out his terminal, a hand-sized mobile device, and hovered it over the automaton’s plain face.
A moment passed and…
Beep!
Its eyes lit up in green, as did its mouth, forming a smile.
The sight was creepy, but it didn’t bother the man at all; in fact, he seemed to find it quite comical.
“Sir Malik, one hundred Valora have been deposited in your account. If there are any mistakes, be sure to reach out.”
He nodded at its words but didn’t move, noticing that it had more to say.
“Thank you for your service, Sir Malik. We’re pleased to inform you that your clearance level has increased. You are now eligible to participate in S-Rank raids.”
Malik furrowed his brows, reacting quite negatively to the news of his promotion.
“…Can I reject it?”
“No.”
“I figured as much… Keep this off the record for me, yeah?”
“Keep what—”
“Fuck you, that’s what.”
“…”
“Thanks bud, have a nice day now.”
With a light tap on the automaton’s shoulder, he moved past it, following the crowd as if nothing had happened.
It appeared that he had been expecting the news for a while now, yet it still didn’t sit right with him.
It wasn’t that he wanted to stay in this Hellhole—it was the alternative that made him pause.
The reasoning wasn’t hard to piece together.
Even though he didn’t know how they operated exactly, whatever horrors he faced here would be incomparable to the ones in S-Rank raids.
A promotion? No, this was nothing short of a death sentence.
And Malik wasn’t keen on letting it play out.
With another weary sigh—one of many that day—he trudged onward, his footsteps leading him to yet another queue.
This one was beside multiple others, each leading to rows of massive, highly reinforced buses with human-sized tires.
Once another beep! resounded, the queue began to clear as everyone entered their respective bus.
Malik climbed aboard, making his way to the back.
He settled into a seat that was far more comfortable than the sorry excuse for a bed he had back at the dorms.
It wasn’t just the cushioning, though that certainly helped—it was the location.
The back.
He had been a backbencher since birth, and for whatever reason, he always felt relaxed there, nostalgic.
Besides, it was the safest place to be if a workmate of his decided to be a little spicy.
Beep!
With that all-familiar sound interrupting his thoughts, their bus driver announced in a robotic voice:
“Destination, Dormitory A-10, ETA seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds. Enjoy the ride.”
Just as it stopped speaking, Malik looked outside, quietly observing the scenery as the bus began to move.
Those next to him weren’t so sentimental.
Most had taken out their terminals and began to mindlessly scroll, taking in data no more important than the grime beneath their feet, utter slop meant to be forgotten.
The rest?
Loud, obnoxious chatter filled the air, voices rising and falling as they bragged about their most recent dance with monsters and how they defeated them with minimal effort.
One of them cooked up a story where he killed three monsters with a pen… yes, a fucking pen.
Typical, exaggerated… none of it mattered—none of them seemed to care.
Malik, meanwhile, was lamenting his situation and what his next steps had to be.
‘Hahhh… I’ve got nothing to show for myself. Nothing for them, either. Maybe… just maybe, this is my chance. My chance to become a Celestial.’
That final word carried a weight that made his chest tighten.
He knew people—many much younger than him—who had already Ascended above mortality, becoming Celestials.
Some had struck it rich in some unknown Ruin, while others were propped up by a strong backing, all thanks to their good looks no doubt, a pretty face to display in advertisements to attract investors.
Their lives were the dream of many.
But Malik?
He was nearing thirty, still stuck in the starting position, unable to take the next step.
‘Too bad my handsome mug sends those bastards running.’
His lips curled into a wry grin.
‘I could’ve even been a model for them~.’
Chuckling quietly at his dumb joke, he glanced at those beside him, then back at the wasteland.
Malik was just like the rest of the dregs, a tiny cog in an otherwise unfathomable machine.
He recognized that.
Though he wasn’t bitter about it.
…Okay, maybe a little. But he’d come to terms with his place in the world.
He was satisfied.
Sure, he wasn’t rich, nor was he powerful, but at least he was contributing to something good.
The protection of his people—no matter how small his part in it might be.
Slowly nodding his head, he appeared to have come to a decision, one that he kept within.
Time ticked by, and soon the bus came to a smooth stop, exactly on time.
“Arrived at Dormitory A-10.”
After a beep! the front and back doors hissed open.
Malik waited his turn, letting everyone leave first.
He didn’t see the need to rush; the dorm wasn’t going anywhere.
Why they pushed each other around when it was all the same in the end was beyond him.
But he just shrugged his shoulders and summed it up in one phrase:
‘Human Nature.’
When mostly everyone had gotten out, Malik finally stood, stretching lazily before hopping off.
The pavement below lit up with a flashing green trail, guiding him forward.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, following the path past the bus stop.
While walking, his gaze wandered up to the buildings surrounding him, piercing the clouds in the sky.
Stark, uninspiring blocks of reinforced concrete and steel, their identical designs blending into one monotonous backdrop.
“WATCH OUT!”
But just as he was about to look away, a man’s shout yanked his attention.
He was on a hoverboard barreling straight toward him, threatening to crush his head.
Malik’s eyes widened, and he stepped back with all his strength.
His body flew for a moment, just barely dodging the man.
But before he could even feel relief—
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
His heart sank.
That desperate step of his had sent him right into oncoming traffic.
If it were a cruiser or even some kind of sports car, he could’ve easily cleared it, but this…
‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.’
It was a truck so massive that it took two whole lanes of the road.
‘Dammit!’
Using the momentum from his last step, he pushed off the ground hard, throwing himself into a backflip high up in the air.
The top of his head barely missed scraping against the truck’s roof as it roared by, leaving only the rush of displaced air in its wake.
‘Close… too close.’
But, again, his relief was short-lived.
Twisting his body and looking down, he saw exactly where he was going to land—or rather, on whom.
There was no time to avoid it, no time to even yell a warning.
All he could do was brace for impact, raising his arms.
Thud!
The collision sent the poor guy flying like a rag doll, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop before a dumpster filled with trash.
Malik landed a little more gracefully, but not by much, stumbling to his feet.
“Shit…”
He glanced at the dazed figure sprawled out ahead of him.
“Guess I’m buying him lunch after this.”
Malik was about to check up on him, but just as he began to crouch down, movement caught his eye—a glint of steel nearing his head.
‘OH COME ON!’
It didn’t take a genius to piece it together.
That poor guy had been someone’s target, and Malik, in all his unlucky glory, had just taken his place.
‘This’s what I get for being stingy.’
Malik would’ve chuckled at the absurdity of what was happening, but he had no time to.
He needed to figure out what to do in those fractions before the strike reached him.
Only one thing came to mind.
Throwing himself forward, he dropped to the ground.
That was the right move, but it wasn’t fast enough.
A moment before he could escape the dagger’s trajectory, it had reached him, easily going through his augmented suit’s force shield, as it had almost no energy, and grazed the back of his neck, deep, drawing blood.
“Ugh—!”
In incredible pain, he rolled to his back, blood gushing and dripping as he barely stopped himself from groaning.
‘Fuck me.’
Clutching the wound, Malik fumbled for the emergency pills in his pocket.
But of course, fate wasn’t done with him yet.
Before he even had a chance to pull them out, he was interrupted once more.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
A scream from above made him freeze.
His head tilted up, neck throbbing, to see a guy hurtling through the air face-first, flailing like a deranged skydiver.
Malik blinked.
‘Seriously?’
The guy was plummeting straight toward him.
‘You’ve got to be kidding… am I dreaming?’
He chuckled in disbelief, wondering what he did to anger the world so much.
Giving up, he locked eyes with the screaming idiot, whose face twisted in terror as the ground rushed up to meet him.
They were blank.
‘…We’re both having a bad day, huh?’
Splat!
***
In a realm heavy with divinity, where void was commonplace, three beings stood in silence.
The first was a figure of pure white, featureless, save for ‘His’ eyes—a deeper black than the darkness surrounding them.
They drew in everything, commanding death.
Beside ‘Him,’ the embodiment of shadow took form, ‘Her’ presence a swirling mass of endless depth.
‘Her’ rubies of red held a stillness that felt eternal as if they saw the unseen.
It wouldn’t be far from the truth, after all; darkness hid everything, and the night saw all.
Before them, shrouded in a shifting blue ‘fog,’ was another figure.
Nothing but ‘Her’ eyes were revealed—two clocks of a deep blue.
Their faces were devoid of hands or numbers, yet if looked at long enough, one would imagine a ticking hand
Together, they gazed into a window through space suspended in the void below.
It showed the scattered remains of Malik and the ‘nameless,’ his head crushed beyond recognition.
“Are you sure about him?”