Encounter with Chaos

Encounter with Chaos

Simon felt no pain at the moment of his death. It was like falling asleep before being enveloped by an overwhelming silence and an unsettling peace. Honestly, it was more than someone like him deserved.

Simon was a monster. He knew it. Although many saw him as a vigilante or avenger, he never acted out of a sense of goodness or concern for others. He was a methodical killer, and his greatest satisfaction came not from pain but from control. Simon enjoyed destroying people before taking their lives, stripping them of what made them human in the eyes of others.

That said, Simon was not crazy or a psychopath, as some might think. Maybe a sociopath, but he never reveled in suffering. Unlike killers who lost themselves in delusions, he was fully conscious. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He had complete control over his actions and knew he could stop at any moment. The fact that he didn't like to kill directly didn't mean he had any trace of empathy or guilt—he just preferred to guide his victims to the bottom of the well, watching as they fell apart before taking their last breath.

"A singular being, indeed."

Amidst the darkness, a voice broke the silence. It was strange, carrying a tone unknown to Simon, as if it bore a weight he had never felt before. He tried to open his eyes, but he felt tired, as if trapped in silk sheets that held him in an eternally comfortable embrace. Simon moved a little more but finally decided to surrender to that feeling—perhaps the long-awaited eternal rest.

"Why are you still sleeping, my little one?"

The voice sounded again, this time with a more feminine tone, disturbing Simon in his sleep. The voice was melodious and soft, but it carried something that bothered him. Once more, he tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. The comfort of that bed was too much to resist.

"Let me sleep a little longer," Simon thought as the voice faded into the void.

"Do you really want to sleep forever, Simon?" The soft tone returned, this time closer, more intimate. "There's so much to do... so much to live for... so much to kill for..."

"Killing... no. I'm tired."

"No, you're not. You're just bored. Just like me."

"…"

"People like you don't get tired, Simon. Killing becomes as natural as breathing. When you try to stop... you die."

"I'm not like them. Killing has never been necessary for me."

"And yet, you did it. Not out of necessity, not as a form of escape, not for revenge, and certainly not for pleasure." The voice paused, letting the silence hang before continuing. "You did it for entertainment. It made your life, once so boring, more... interesting."

Simon's eyes slowly opened. The comforting feeling brought by the sheets gradually dissipated as he found himself surrounded by darkness.

"You see yourself as superior to humanity. You believe you are above them, on a pedestal you built with your own hands." A cold hand landed on his shoulder, transmitting an oppressive weight. "You fool yourself into thinking that controlling your instincts makes you superior. But it doesn't make you better. It only makes you emptier."

The darkness around Simon changed shape, and now he was in a deserted parking lot. There, a woman of about forty was walking next to a car, talking on the phone with an anxious expression, as if she feared something, while her children—a fourteen-year-old boy and a seventeen-year-old girl—were putting their groceries in the trunk.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the woman was hit by a Molotov cocktail. Her screams broke the silence as her children watched, paralyzed in horror.

"Was it fun?" the voice whispered in Simon's ear.

"I enjoyed watching her burn," he said, emotionless, watching the scene repeat itself before his eyes.

"Of course you did. The pain and suffering reduce them to nothing, and that gives you pleasure."

"No," Simon replied, his voice calm but firm. "It doesn't give me pleasure. I enjoy watching them die, but it doesn't excite or amuse me."

The image changed, revealing a small roadside diner. A man in his forties was calmly eating his lunch while Simon, in the background, worked on his laptop, enjoying a milkshake and some fries. After finishing, he closed the computer, paid the bill, and left.

Minutes later, the man drove off too. In the middle of the deserted road, his car suddenly broke down. He got out to check on the problem but never had a chance to understand what had happened when a bullet went through his head, and he fell dead. Simon, in the distance, holstered his rifle with meticulous precision, without hesitation, and drove on to another town.

An older version of Simon watched it all. "A quick and clean death. No contact, no emotion. Just the act of taking a life," Simon murmured, almost as if he admired the simplicity of the execution. His smile, however, faded when the mocking voice returned.

"Poor tormented soul. Do you truly believe that your lack of emotion makes you superior?" The hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "You are pathetic. Believing that your lack of desire makes you something other than human when, in fact, it makes you less than that."

"Silence," Simon whispered, never looking away.

"Did I anger you? Did I say something wrong?"

"…"

"You wear a mask under a mask. You've convinced yourself that you're better than them, but all you do is lie to yourself."

"…"

"No one will remember you, Simon. Nothing you've done has been significant. Your name will vanish like dust in the wind."

Simon was silent. The voice continued to echo its taunts, as if trying to reduce him to nothing. Until finally, he laughed. And how he laughed. Simon's laughter filled the void until it was the only thing left.

"What's so funny?"

"You." He turned to stare into the void before him, a twisted smile on his lips. "Do you really believe this affects me?"

"…"

"Maybe, once, I acted out of a false sense of superiority. But somewhere along the way, it became real. I am better than them. I will not be forgotten. My death is not the end... it is only the beginning. I will be the fuse that sets the world on fire."

Simon's sadistic smile grew as the darkness before him twisted, as if it finally recognized him. Simon kept a cold smile on his face as the darkness before him contorted into a new shape, showing him the world after his departure. Indeed, just as he had predicted, the country was in true chaos after his death. Extremist groups and extermination factions sprang up everywhere, determined to continue Simon's "work." Before long, 57 people had been murdered, and the number seemed to increase every day.

"Have you heard of Universe 25?" Simon broke the silence suddenly. "John B. Calhoun was a psychologist and ethologist responsible for creating Universe 25, or as it became known, the 'Rat Utopia.' He designed a true paradise for rats—an environment free of predators, with plenty of food and water, and wide open spaces for them to breed and live undisturbed. A true sanctuary. But somewhere along the way, it turned into a nightmare."

He paused, thinking before continuing. "Cannibalism, abuse, destructive behavior... A brutal hierarchy was established, where the strongest dominated and the weakest merely survived. Although the results of the study were later dismissed by many, there are still those who believe that it perfectly reflects the current state of society."

Simon seemed deeply fascinated by the experiment. He saw the world in a similar way. He may not have been a genius, but he had lived long enough to understand how the human mind worked. He was, in fact, a monster, but in the eyes of many, he was considered a hero. He had not created a cult in his name, but his followers existed, scattered, searching for a figure that would offer them identity in a chaotic world.

In this technological age, where machines seemed more human than many individuals, it was not difficult for someone to become an icon. And that is exactly what Simon did. He became a kind of beacon for lost, desperate people who could not find purpose in their lives.

"What do you think will happen now that they are starting to act?" Simon asked, his voice filled with a strange serenity. "How many more will die?"

"…"

"Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. After all, I am dead." Simon looked at the pile of darkness before him and finally asked, "Who are you? Thanatos? Azrael? Some other entity that represents death?"

The shadows in front of him twisted for a moment before taking the form of an incredibly beautiful woman. To Simon, she appeared perfect in every way. Her long, straight black hair danced around her as if it were part of a hidden melody. Her skin was fair, flawless, and her body, full of accentuated curves, radiated an imposing beauty. The long dress she wore seemed made of the night sky itself, dotted with stars.

However, what caught Simon's attention the most were her eyes. Red, deep, and vibrant eyes that seemed to contain the reflection of everything and nothing at the same time.

"It's... beautiful..." Simon murmured, captivated by the sight.

"My little Simon, is my form too much for your limited human mind?" The woman smiled gently, moving closer. Her fingers brushed Simon's face with a tender touch.

"You... are not death..." he stated suddenly. He wasn't sure why, but her presence felt different. It did not bring the peace he expected to feel after his death. There was something else, something he couldn't quite identify.

Upon hearing this, the woman smiled enigmatically, stepping back a few paces. "Correct, I am not her."

"Then who are you?" Simon asked, intrigued.

"You can call me Eris." Her voice, soft and melodic, reverberated in the air. It was almost hypnotic.

Simon furrowed his brow at the name. "The goddess of chaos?"

"Something like that," Eris replied with a nonchalant gesture, transforming the space around them into a grand royal hall. Simon looked around, impressed by the grandeur of the place. Everything was adorned with a dark, refined glow. When he turned back to look at Eris, she was seated on a black throne made of a volcanic rock that glowed with red hues.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice cautious.

"As I said before, I'm bored, Simon." Eris waved her hand, summoning an ornate goblet filled with a golden liquid. "Throughout my existence, I have wandered countless worlds, created, destroyed... I have done what a specter of chaos must do."

She took a sip from the drink with an almost superhuman grace. A small trickle of the liquid ran down her lips, sliding down her neck and disappearing into her neckline. Simon watched, trying to suppress any unwanted impulses.

Eris seemed to notice Simon's internal struggle and smiled, amused by his restrained reaction to her presence. "You are different," she said, her penetrating gaze fixed on him. "I have wandered through ages, across countless universes, and rarely do I find humans who capture my attention. But you, Simon, are one of them."

"Well, thank you, I guess," Simon replied with a faint smile before continuing, "But you still haven't told me what you want with me."

Eris smiled slightly and waved her finger at Simon, who was suddenly crushed to the ground. "Do not confuse my interest in you for something more, child. You are interesting, but you are not irreplaceable. It would be wise to be more careful with what you say in the presence of a goddess."

Simon felt as if every part of him was being crushed, leaving him unable to respond. Eris watched him writhe in pain on the ground, smiling as she saw that although he was suffering, he did not scream.

"I think that's enough," she said, waving her hand lightly toward Simon, who quickly felt the weight of the world lift from him.

Simon remained silent, catching his breath, until he finally got up just enough to kneel in front of Eris. Looking at him, she smiled and spoke, "I have a proposal for you." She rose elegantly, walking slowly toward him. "I want you to go to a new world and spread chaos throughout it."

Although kneeling, Simon forced himself to respond. "And why would I do that?"

Eris stepped even closer, delicately lifting Simon's chin with her fingers. Their eyes met, and for a moment, he felt as if he were incapable of looking away from those deep eyes.

"Because this is your chance to achieve your true goals."

Simon was silent for a moment. Throughout his life, while enjoying power and control over his victims, two great desires had always guided him. The first was to elevate himself beyond humanity, to transcend what was considered human. It was a childish desire, a distant dream. Who, at some point, has not wanted to be more than a mere mortal?

In a way, he had already achieved that goal by becoming a symbol, a dark legend, even if a false one of justice. History would remember Simon E. Morgan.

But the second desire was more complicated. Simon wanted a family. Deep down, he longed for it, even knowing that in his mental state, he would never be able to be fair to a child. He feared the idea of passing his darkness onto another human being.

Eris, sensing the hesitation in his eyes, leaned in a bit closer. "This world I offer you... could be the key to everything you desire. Power... legacy... and perhaps even what you think you cannot have: a family."

Simon would not lie to himself: the proposal was incredibly tempting. The power to shape a world in his image, with the freedom to do as he wished, was everything he had ever desired. But he knew he could not be easily deceived. Eris, an entity representing chaos, surely would not offer a gift without a price.

"What do you really want?" Simon asked, his voice cold and direct.

Eris smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I want to see... what kind of world you can create when you have the power to do as you please. I want to see if you will yield to your darker side or if you can become something greater."

Simon watched her in silence. He knew what that meant: she wanted to turn him into a piece of her eternal game, feeding off the tension between his desire to transcend humanity and his desire for a simple, ordinary life. It was like placing a hungry wolf in the midst of a flock of sheep and watching whether it would succumb to its instincts or become their guardian.

Eris said nothing more, only waiting for Simon's response. She didn't care about what he would choose; in fact, what mattered to her was the spectacle of the choice itself. The chaos she loved so much was not in the actions, but in the decisions and the unpredictable consequences that arose from them.

"And if I refuse?" Simon asked suddenly.

Eris looked at him with a curiosity almost childlike, tilting her head slightly. "You can refuse, of course. Return to nothingness, let your story end here, with no more chapters to be written. But I doubt you will do that." She leaned in closer once more, whispering in his ear: "Because deep down, you know you have always wanted to be more than a mere human. And now you have the chance."

"I accept. However, I have one request."

"And what would that request be, Simon?" Eris asked, laughing softly, her voice tempting and filled with desire.

"You cannot interfere in the world to which I am sent, nor can you act upon me or its original inhabitants. You will be just a spectator, a person in the audience, never an actress in this new spectacle—nothing more." Simon spoke, drawing from Eris a smile that seemed to mock him.

However, before she could respond, a third voice sounded within the hall. "Fair enough. Eris, you will not be permitted to interfere with Simon's fate or choices, nor can you interact with or act upon anything or anyone in the world to which he is sent."

Upon hearing the voice, Eris furrowed her brow and looked around with undisguised anger.

"Do you agree, Eris?" The voice sounded again, eliciting a scoff from the chaos specter before she responded with a yes.

Eris then glared at Simon and returned to her throne while he wondered who the hell the owner of that third voice was.

"Well, at least I have assurances that Eris won't screw me over, at least not directly." He then looked at Eris and waited in silence while the chaos specter calmed down.

Eris sat on her throne once more and conjured her goblet with the golden liquid. She watched Simon in silence as she thought about what to do next. Although she hadn't actively planned to interfere with Simon, she intended to play with him from time to time, but now she had been reduced to a mere spectator, and that irritated her.

After finishing the goblet, Eris waved, and a strange vortex of dark energy appeared in front of Simon. "Here is the entrance to the world to which you will be sent. Just step in and begin your new life."

Simon watched the vortex with interest, but he didn't step forward. Instead, he looked at Eris and asked, "What is the world I'm going to?"

"The world you are going to will depend entirely on fate. To avoid a complete collapse of existence, chaos entities are prohibited from opening portals to other worlds directly, so we just open a portal randomly, and that's it. Now step in."

"What power will I have when I go to this new world?"

"..."

"..."

"Tch, choose anything, and I will give it to you," said Eris, waving her hand lightly, visibly annoyed by Simon's insistence on not stepping into the vortex at once.

"Then I want all the knowledge that 'Father' from Fullmetal Alchemist has about alchemy, along with the talents of Edward and Alphonse Elric," Simon stated, already anticipating the impact such power would have in his hands.

"No," Eris replied without hesitation. "You can only choose one power, nothing more."

But Simon didn't let himself be discouraged. A mischievous smile spread across his face. He knew how to work around this restriction.

"I'm only asking for one power, the power of alchemy," he explained calmly. "As for knowledge and talent, those are things that naturally compose that very power. Alchemy, by itself, is incomplete without mastery over it. One without the other is useless."

Eris narrowed her eyes, reassessing Simon. Throughout their conversation, she noticed he wasn't the smartest person in the world, but he wasn't a complete fool either.

In fact, alchemy wasn't just about manipulating matter; it was about understanding its laws, the equivalent exchanges, the sacrifices needed. There was a fine line between what he wanted and what she was willing to give.

"You played well," she said, a slight smile curving her lips as she extended her finger to Simon's forehead. "I will give you the knowledge and talent you seek, but all understanding must come from you."

Simon frowned, grasping the hint. Although Edward and Alphonse were talented alchemists, what enabled them to perform the feared human transmutation at age 12 was their understanding. In other words, their intelligence and ability to see beyond the rules.

It was useless to possess the knowledge of a lifetime if one lacked the understanding of how to apply it.

"Now go. Your presence has started to annoy me." Eris waved, sending Simon toward the vortex, which disappeared after swallowing him.

Eris sat back on her throne and brought her goblet with the golden liquid to her lips. She remained there in silence, staring into the void, her red eyes wandering as if searching for something, until they finally stopped at a certain point.

"So... this is the world you went to." Eris smiled and leaned back in her throne, enjoying her drink as she observed through the walls of reality. "I hope your life is interesting, Simon."