Gaming For A Thousand Years To Unlock The Cosmology

 "So after a thousand years, I have finally achieved this."

 A young man stood wearing golden royal robes, loose around his thin frame. His silver hair was scattered in the wind, long and lustrous. His eyes gleamed with a profound charm that contained the grace of a thousand year old immortal.

 ⦗Signed-in Day 365, 000⦘

 ⦗Destiny Points 100000⦘

 He stared at the screen before him, his long hair scattered by the wind into his face. A smile drew on his lips as he lifted his hand unconsciously to touch the screen, and his fingers phased through to create a distortion,

 ⦗Unlocked, the Cosmology⦘

 The mountain range around him was consumed by silence as he stared into the screen. Alas, the truth of the universe — everything — existed within him. He had achieved everything — all through a thousand years of sacrifices.

 His name was Requiem, the sheepherder of divinities. He reared gods, shepherded worlds, stood at the apex of the universe. Now after a thousand years of his absolute tyranny, gaming away in total seclusion, he unlocked his final goal.

 He stared at the screen, his hand still distorting the surface, "Why do I hesitate?" his voice was as calm as still waters and cold as ice. After seconds in silence, Requiem the shepherd of gods, sighed. A stillness in his eyes as he closed the screen, "I can finally rest, after centuries…"

 Requiem turned around, the rustling of leaves on tall trees filled his ears. There were no animals in this space — a world one would call his pocket dimension, a space where he could store anything. One where he was isolated from the plane of conscious reality -- the flow of time ceased.

 Inside was stored the ultimate gaming rig and installed was the ultimate game; the pinnacle of divine technology. All he had running on this system for the past one thousand years was a battle adventure titled World Shepherd — a world where the player farmed divine livestock.

 Dead leaves danced around the bladed grass, embraced by the chilling winds.

 "Cursed with immortality, I decided to game for a thousand years." He chuckled, "I witnessed the rise and fall of empires. The ones who called me a fool, I watched them live their lives and die. Tragic or not, their meaningless existences met the end." 

 He turned around away, and the 'pocket dimension' faded into obscurity. The lively trees burned to reveal dead trunks, the grass to reveal scorched plains, and burnt leaves danced in place of the dead ones. He sat on a throne covered in fresh blood — like the golden sword he held.

 Standing before his throne was a multitude of godly creatures, their auras divine in every aspect, beautiful and perfect in their own way. They all bowed before him, rose, and drew their weapons, turning against him — their Lord. He was calm, staring upon their worthless existences.

 "Supreme Requiem, he that has rules the heavens for a thousand years, have you prepared that place which you would spend all eternity?" a female humanoid, Freyja, the goddess of love drew her blade and turned to him as he watched calmly. A rage burned in her ancient gaze.

 Many other Gods he had reared, from over a thousand varying realities, they gathered behind a withering belief, to end him? "Fools." Requiem held the side of his face, lowering his head as they all watched him explode into maniacal laughter. Freya twitched as he lifted his head and stared at her.

 "No one here is fit to be my usurper. Wretched fools." He waved his hand as a book appeared to everyone standing before him, drawn directly from the abyss of heart. They looked up at it once, and their stance shook and countenance fell, "I hold the power to the universe. I own you all."

 He glared upon the others, like a titan to an ant: the eyes of a predator sizing up its newborn.

 In the grand scheme of things, their lives were so miniature, so meaningless. He had gamed with their worlds and after a thousand years, he had reached the end. Here he had a choice, to live his life or end it all and give in to the cold and dark embrace of death.

 "Requiem the Sheepherder of Gods, commands you worthless existences. Slaughter yourselves." A cold gleam shone in his eyes as he stood to his feet, watching Freya turn around and swing her blade, sending Tyr's head rolling across the charred earth until it halt before Hodr's feet.

 He sighed, pulling out his blade.

 The heavens collapsed into a massacre. Requiem did not hesitate, driving his blade into his heart amidst the chaos. Immortality was the greatest blessing he hoped for, so he rewarded the giver — a goddess — with death. This power led him on forth, and he revered in it.

 ⦗Unlocked the Cosmology!⦘

 He saw it — he saw everything! He knew everything! It was like an endless stream of data fired into his brain, absorbed at high speeds. The beginning and the end. The creator and the created. The truth and the lie. He saw everything. He saw his family — a world he never remembered.

 Requiem vomited blood, and a screen appeared before his eyes, different from others. Red roots spiked around the edges, and the words seemed to burn before his gaze. It did not blend in like the others, instead, it stuck out like a sore thumb — creating a sense of emergency.

 ⦗Your Heart Has Stopped⦘

 "Finally…" he could finally rest. He saw all that he had hoped to see, ever since childhood. It was beautiful yet ugly, it was vague yet clear. Now, he wanted to rest. The flock had gathered and died. He would rest here for all eternity.

 He hoped for a silent and dark future, until—

 ⦗Cosmic Eternity: You Will Be Reborn⦘

 This screen appeared, and for the first time in a thousand years, he felt stunned! Requiem stared into the screen and the screen stared back at him. He staggered back with trembling steps, stumbling over and sitting on his throne as his pupils dilated, blood rolling down his jaw.

 "Why? Why?!" Her curse, it still haunted him! He had killed her! He knew everything now! There is no way he should be bound by rules like this! Requiem stretched out his hands — he would issue a command, to reality itself, and rewrite his own fate! He would—

 ⦗Memories Deleting…⦘

 "No—!" 

 His vision dimmed then faded into a darkness. In that darkness, all that remained was the screen, it blinked at him. Hovering in his unconscious, wiping existing memories. Only a fraction was left — it was so vague, the decrepit envisioning of a profound power he now held.

 ⦗Memories Deleted!⦘

 Soon, even that, and the system message faded into obscurity. 

https://www.royalroad.com/profile/350365/fictions -- moving this book here soon.