2 Prologue (2)

Constellations of stars illuminated the halls and sounds of shrieks filled the area.

The ones sitting on a large colosseum; their rooms adorned with warm lights powered by stardust and their personal rose-gold glass tables filled with fine but empty platters of gold, gems, and shimmering stones, made of materials only wished by mortals, watched the wretched beings with mixed feelings of disgust, awe, and glee but hid these expressions on a calm facade.

The twelve, poor revived mortals, still without their mortal bodies and well, dead, helplessly crawled into the middle of the building, their minds flooding with information of a gift they don't even want.

The glamorous deity who's the epitome of allure and seduction with her gown shining like the stars and ornaments, beautiful and full of power behind such glamorous facade, slowly chuckled at the presented situation.

"Are you sure about reviving these wretched souls? They look absolutely broken! Maybe the sudden force of a certain death god was too unprofessional for his job." She opened her fan and slightly glanced at the ominous cloaked being beside her room seat, not bothering to hide her conceited bias.

The certain death god gritted his teeth and clenched his recently bruised hand in annoyance. "It's not that easy temporarily reviving souls, Venettia. It's not as if making the sky glimmer in stupid stardust just as decorations help the universe's society."

He knew she was trying to make some sort of a squabble in front of the others so he tried to keep his cool as she silently grumbled in her fan, instantly getting bored teasing the easiest to anger among the gods present in this massive colosseum.

"Man, so blunt and cruel. That's no fun." Venettia further sighed. She expected more violent outbursts from Marum out of all the people she knew but instead, she got a cold-stained insult as a reply. She then sat in a relaxing position as she stared at the souls, looking for someone interesting.

The other gods did not bother engaging in Marum and Venettia's problematic banter as they had whispered conversations on their own version of a video call, powered by their own mana and more sophisticated than mortal technology; a godly skill which was named Webs of Immortal Link. Some gossips were lightly echoed while the screams from below were decreasing.

"Are you sure soul revival is effective? They might turn against us." One of the gods told their trusted friend. By their outfits, they don't stand out as much as someone like the goddess Venettia but the designs of their hair and their weapons certainly made them unique.

"Su Yin, it's the absolute God's will. We, the lower gods, can't do anything against it. We can only entrust these uhmm... mortals to carry it out. Plus, I can't afford to lose my divine powers either but still..." They replied to the other but were very cautious of the revived that might be plotting something against them as they began chewing their nails out of the stress.

The other god countered the statement on a delightful note. "We won't lift a finger anyway so don't sweat it! It's up to the main gods like Usio and Yerith to manage everything. Low ranks like us can relax!" He gave a thumbs up with a follow-up tune of his flute as a sound effect. The other gods were feeling a bit faithful to the mission because of such reassurance by the god of festivity.

"Ugh... When will the banquet start?" A petty, childish voice rang out, very much obvious and flaunting out their boredom.

They continued, "I don't care about these low-lives! Just drop them in their worlds and hope for the best. They don't deserve our utmost presence!" A petite goddess who has an aesthetic like that of a Rococo princess, showing off her arrogance as she complained and twirled her drilled strawberry blonde hair.

Her servant tried to reason with her. "Mistress Renegieve, please. Have some patience-" Crack! She was then cut off by a strike of her mistress' whip. The servant instantly kneeled as she began to chant mantras with phrases, "I'm sorry miss. I'm sorry. I won't challenge your words again. Please." The servant couldn't help but sob at her mistake.

Her mistress clicked her tongue, even more exasperated than her usual mood, and slowly turned her head as she glared daggers on her servant.

"You dare talk without my permission, you bespawling bobolyne cumberground. Be thankful that my precious time has been wasted by making sure you are educated." Her bloodlust was even more multiplied by her earlier annoyance and now, adding up to her temper is her servant being impertinent. To her, out of all the gods?! Given such disrespect! How preposterous! Scandalous!

"Rene-san~! Stop being grumpy to your servants! You will age a thousand years because of the stress and your famed youthful image will get destroyed! Just think of all your worshippers looking at you with terror! Ohh~ the sight of it gives me a rapture that will last a decade!" Another god, their room adorned with dazzling purple mist which one human touch of it will put an unbreakable curse on the victim, giggled as they irritated the hell out of the goddess Renegieve.

The gods began to get noisier as they argued to each other, unbothered in their own circles of conversation.

"Montrell, you want to go?! I'll make sure I'll shove your disgusting curse you call a spell right up your wiffle-waffling, blabbering vomiter you call a mouth! Let's see who has a temper now!" Renegieve readied her whip as her forgotten servants in her room seat helped up their fellow, recently whipped servant and gradually left the area, apprehensive of their mistress' eagerness to start a fight.

"Oh my~ Looks like death god Marum has a rival on the award of 'Most Explosive Temper' in the universe!" Montrell teased as she also readied her mistful creations to protect herself. She did not expect that she also hooked the god Marum into this insignificant clash.

He threw two of his blades in their direction. Renegieve blocked the attack with her whip while Montrell just dodged it.

"Shut the fuck up, Montrell. I just have no energy left to shit on you and your sister, Venettia. As for you, Renegieve, cool off for a while. Don't try to take away my beloved award title." Marum scowled at them, nearing the brink of his infamous eruptive rage and they both shivered undoubtedly.

They can't let Marum go berserk after using such a dangerous skill to revive lost souls so they retreat back and the colosseum is at its peace once again.

"But still, higher goddess Renegieve has a point." One of the lower gods buzzed as they avoided surveillance by the clashing gods.

"I have to agree. Aren't the main gods hyping this up too much?" The other answered as more of them chimed in. It then turned into a dialogue-heavy conversation.

"Out of all the souls, why did they pick lost souls? Can't they just pick the least damaged ones instead of the ones who had defects? "

"It was said that the absolute God chose them himself. Death god Marum had a more competent selection but his request was denied."

"This is simply an outrage! Marum has the best eye when it comes to combat!"

"I mean, there is some merit in gathering the lost ones. We can easily control them out of their short-term revival contract but it's simply too risky."

"Oh for my sake, I still have work on another constellation… Dammit, this meeting is dragging out for too long."

"They are too weak-minded, I'm afraid. I'm losing my support over this."

"This mission will be a failure..."

The gods looked down on the souls. They knew that they would not succeed. It was too much of a gamble from the absolute God, they thought.

After some moments of murmurs and doubtful stares, the pain of each soul died down as one by one, slowly condensing the instant flux of memories plunged in their heads. Their faces were then waiting for an explanation but not taking any initiative to talk to these beings.

Of course, they felt vulnerable, being summoned by gods. It was absolutely unbelievable and absurd, only supposed to come out in something like a fantasy novel or something like a storybook.

The gods only ignored them as their share of the banquet was delivered by servants. Plates were cluttering, the murmurs now turned into merry chatter and joyful, triumphant music filled the entire building. The situation was turning into something even more ridiculous.

The masked god who was assigned in the center room, known to be only reserved for the most privileged out of all, slightly coughed and rang his champagne glass with a teaspoon to signal everyone to have their eyes on him. The souls hypothesized that he must be the head of all of the gods.

"I hope everyone has already calmed themselves down after being dragged out of the spirit realm." He stood up while holding out his glass and snapping his fingers to summon his documents and his pen in such an eloquent manner, beginning to write something as a report.

One of the souls, afraid yet curious, gathered all of her strength and hesitantly raised her arm. It was a brown-haired girl who had a sword plunged into her chest and her blood sprayed on her pretty maiden dress, but since she was just a mere soul, she can no longer feel the pain of her injury. "I'm sorry, but I am really confused. I was just in a dark space a few moments ago but those images... It was my past life, wasn't it?"

Her statement made the entire colosseum put into silence. She was taken aback and flinched. She felt cold sweat running down her dead spine as she nervously looked around. It was just as suffocating as the abyss, actually called the spirit realm, but somehow, it was even more nerve-wracking with eyes of the strongest which can easily wipe her existence in this universe, gazing at her with all sorts of looks.

But another soul backed her up. It was a boy with a giant wound on his head, his skull, and his brain peeking out and blood pouring out that seemed to never stop.

"Yeah! You can't just pull us out and expect us to kill each other! I have seen tons of movies where y'all just take other people and let them fight to the death like a rooster gambling match!" He stepped forward and posed a heroic stance to protect the anxious brunette from the attacks of stares.

The other souls, meanwhile, were cautiously watching their surroundings, not bothering to speak up and not get in trouble. However, one of those souls was empty-headed, deeply thinking about something.

The masked god, stopping from writing, gazed at the souls who stood up to ask a question and floated in front of them. The boy then completely sheltered the girl behind him as he whispered, "Don't worry. I'll handle this."

The god mentally took note of the heroic soul's action and serenely talked his way unto them. "Do not worry. We won't let you fight each other. Instead, you were summoned here for a secret mission arranged by the absolute God himself." At that tone, he sounded so welcoming that it fooled the boy in front of him.

"Wait really? You're not letting us fight each other?" He begrudgingly asked but was somehow convinced of the masked god.

The supreme being inwardly smiled. "Of course not. You will instead kill the ones who killed you before you died!" He surprised the souls with such a gleeful atmosphere as fireworks and applause flooded the colosseum.

Everyone cheered at the official announcement. All this time, the moment they had been waiting for. Their hatred of a certain group of individuals, finally their desires are going to be fulfilled. Of course, even if it involves unfortunate, mediocre souls getting revived, a god's greed is easy to appease if it has their divine titles and powers on the line. It was such an ironic situation, given that they mocked and belittled these people beforehand.

The souls were even more confused. "Wait, do you mean we're going to k-kill..." A woman with bullet holes on her destroyed business suit and a lost eye stuttered as she finally connected the dots.

The masked god snapped his fingers. "You're right, Ms. Siegel. You're going to be the god's assassins."

The souls were bewildered. Assassins for the gods? Some of them internally smirked, a little too happy at the opportunity, the others either panicked, unable to hide their uneasiness, or just plainly startled. The few though were neutral but their eyebrows furrowed at the words.

The mask god continued and paid no heed to their reactions. The audience is getting impatient, he said to himself.

He then flashed an almost holographic screen in front of them and 12 character profiles popped up, in the title of the page it was written, 'Hit List.' It was an uncreative name for sure but it was direct and straightforward enough for everyone to follow along.

Each of these 12 souls except for one gasped out loud at the familiar faces they didn't expect they would see in such a long time. Contrarily, the gods glowered their bloodthirsty sanguinity over those sickening visages they desperately wanted to destroy.

The masked god lifted up his head. "And your targets are the ones that have been mosquitoes in our economy of divine magic for centuries. The ones who were praised as the chosen ones. The ones with knowledge from another dimension. The only obstacle of the absolute God. We want you to eliminate them."