1 Prologue

Do you truly understand what psychopaths and Sociopaths are?

Psychopathy and sociopathy are personality disorders, not mental illnesses, which makes understanding their causes more challenging.

Personality disorders are a specific subset of mental health conditions characterized by enduring patterns of behavior, while mental illnesses encompass a wider range of conditions that affect a person's mental well-being.

People with personality disorders may appear functional in public due to coping mechanisms, while individuals with severe mental illnesses, like psychotic disorders, may experience disruptive symptoms like hallucinations; making it challenging to communicate with them.

(A/N: Psychotic disorders are a type of mental disorder, not a personality disorder.)

In summary, psychopaths or sociopaths don't necessarily have an inherent desire to kill.

Though, People may kill due to tough circumstances. For example... In a war.

As a soldier, I found myself questioning the nature of killing on the battlefield. Observing the lifeless surroundings, with both enemies and comrades fallen, I couldn't help but ponder the purpose of this war.

Was it truly for my country, or was there a darker motive behind it all?

The commander's intentions seemed questionable, especially when peaceful resolutions were discarded in favor of genocide. It made me doubt whether he genuinely sought harmony or whether he concealed a sociopathic nature deep within.

No, seriously... don't go on the Nazi route all of the sudden...

Amidst the silence of the warzone, I grappled with the ethical implications of taking someone else's life, even in the name of duty.

Amidst the aftermath of the battle, I stood, shocked to find myself missing an arm, surrounded by fallen comrades. Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence, addressing me with curiosity.

"So, Human, what is it that you desire with those murky eyes?" The voice questioned, seemingly unbothered by the surrounding devastation.

Confused, I turned to look at the speaker. He appeared to be dressed like a noble, exuding an air of elegance and composure. His calm demeanor contrasted with the chaos around us as he approached me with a smile.

Despite the bizarre circumstances of encountering a man with medieval tastes, clean and untouched amidst the dust and blood, I felt an inexplicable urge to respond to his inquiry.

"What... I desire? Looking at my state, won't you know that already?" I retorted, finding it absurd to answer a question with another question.

To my surprise, the mysterious figure replied, "Well, I figured it was some sort of 'Salvation'."

Salvation? The very idea seemed preposterous to me. Why would I seek salvation when my heart harbored nothing but hatred for the world? After this war, perhaps the world would have had enough, and peace treaties would be signed just due to exhaustion, with no true resolution.

My loathing extended to enemy nations, my own country, the world, and even humanity itself. I acknowledged that these feelings may appear childish, but I couldn't help it. If I were given a button to bring an end to humanity at this moment, I wouldn't hesitate to push it without a second thought.

The mysterious figure seemed to read my thoughts and responded, "So it's not salvation, then... Destruction. Is that really what you wanted?"

Feeling weary and drained, I questioned the purpose of these probing inquiries. Despite the absence of pain from my wounded arm, these questions unsettled me, adding to the strangeness of the situation.

"Why? Well... When you faced death, you ought to be questioned a bit," the figure explained, pointing behind me.

Turning to look, I saw a body without an arm—my own body. The uniform and clover-shaped necklace matched the ones I had received from my sister. Memories resurfaced—the grenade I snatched from our trench, the explosion that followed, and my demise.

I realized then that I was dead. This armless corpse is my body.

"Deary, you don't fear death?" The figure asked once more.

Without glancing at him, I replied, "Disappointed? Yes. Fear? No... Why must I fear death? After all... Death is not the opposite of living." My murky eyes remained fixed on my lifeless body lying on the ground.

"Well said, death is just another component of life. Therefore, it is not the opposite. It seems like we have another Shakespeare here?" The figure's voice carried both sarcasm and amusement, for some reason.

"Well then... Will you just stand there and roam around the battlefield? You might lose yourself in what you did before... I'm sure you can already guess who I am at this point," he stated.

Lost myself? Was it because I had forgotten I died, even with my corpse right beside me?

"I suppose... You are Death." I turned to face him, and he responded with a huge grin.

"It is quite relaxing to see this other kind of reaction." He suddenly spoke with a genuine smile on his face.

Curiosity peaked, I raised an eyebrow at him, asking, "What do you mean?"

With a smile still on his face, he explained, "Unlike souls that accept their deaths peacefully, vengeful souls like you are often impulsive. You would rage, deny reality, call me names, and taunt me for making a bad joke. Some even attack me for no reason."

"I'm just surprised you're not some old man who has seen so much in life. In fact, you're just a teenager. What a cruel country, sending children to warzones."

Despite my immense hatred for the world, he noted my surprising composure.

I couldn't hide my true age from Death himself; I was a teenager forced into war. Questions swirled in my mind. What century were we living in? How did my country become like this? What went wrong with the world?

"I can't answer that..." Death addressed all my unspoken questions.

He then snapped his fingers, and a holographic window appeared, leaving a lasting impression on me.

Indeed, the holographic window before me seemed straight out of pop-culture fiction—like Japanese manga or anime. Wait, no, my sister had introduced me to Korean comics, called "manhwa." The resemblance was uncanny, but this was no fictional realm; it was an encounter with Death himself.

Words were written on the window, displaying various options.

[Options:]

And below that, we have...

[A. Join the war and die an honorable death]

[B. Go rogue, and seek asylum in peaceful nations]

[C. Steal the passcode and break the war code: launch every single nuclear missile to the enemy's capital]

[D. Attempt suicide]

"Those choices always exist, the problem is..."

As my eyes scanned the options, one remained unreadable.

[E. Ş̷̜͂t̵̝͆â̸̡r̸̝͈̈́t̸̳̍ ̶̙͝ḁ̸̛̗ ̶̥̓c̸͇̲̔̏o̷̗͠ù̸̧p̷̧͍̑͘ ̷̭͆͆d̵̘͂̒'̴̜̈́̚e̶̱͌ṯ̶̯̈́̈́a̷̤̩͌͝t̸͙͙̓,̷̲̺͋͠ ̸̠̘̾̕à̸̫n̶̖̞͂̄ď̸͉ ̴̨̟̕s̶̫̈͆ę̵̰̌͘ë̶̙͈́ḱ̸͕ ̴̨̘̈p̷̝̯̀e̵̟̒a̶͔͈͘c̶̟̪͗̚e̵̪̓̎f̶̘̉u̷̞͋̔l̸͇̝̊̚ ̷̤̈́r̸͔͌e̶̻̾l̷̡̧͋͝a̴̧̹̎͂t̸͈̠̓ĭ̴̳ò̴̯n̵̗͚̿ś̸͇h̸͕̜̋i̷̪͆p̷̺̞̄͛ ̷]

The option remained an enigma, and then he snapped his fingers once more.

*Snap*

[E. Start a coup d'etat, and seek peaceful relationships with other countries]

Could he be suggesting that if I chose this, the outcome might have been different?

But I knew it wasn't that simple; there were too many humans to control with just a coup d'etat. Our nation would face isolation and disdain. It was the fear of being the weakest that drove us to take the Nazi route and be labeled as evil fascists.

However, even if we had pursued that path, there would still be complications. The darkness within human hearts, embodied by the seven deadly sins, can seize any opportunity to take control.

Death acknowledged my thoughts, emphasizing that the options presented were just choices, and what truly mattered was how they were executed.

What a disappointment.

But Death's tone suddenly changed, teasingly suggesting that the real fun was yet to come and encouraging me to make a choice.

Whispers of Death echoed in my ears, urging me to choose. The holographic window displayed only one option:

[A. Live once again...?]

Despite my confusion, I couldn't look away from it. Death's grin grew more sinister as my hand, or what remained of it, moved involuntarily and clicked on the option.

"Kufufufu, I look forward to how you will use that hatred of yours, boy."

.

.

.

Prologue End.