Prologue

I'm not sure whether I had given up on life, or whether life had given up on me.

I stood atop the rooftop of my favorite department store, overlooking the city. It is my favorite because it is the place closest to the sky ―atleast in this bare landscape we call "city". It is the place that felt the holiest, if there was even such a thing.

Rows after rows of concrete blocks stand menacingly, burying the surface within their pompousness. Each one is taller than the next, and the one I am standing on is the tallest.

A bunch of bull-crap, if you want me to be honest. Makes you think, whoever designed these buildings must surely be compensating for something. I recall the adage about Icarus. If this is not enough for full incineration from the sun, then I am afraid of what may come next.

I give a last look towards the ground. It is time to close the world.

"Close the world... and open the next."

My horizontal world turns 90 degrees into a vertical one. As I descend, I can see the moon. It almost feels as if it's snickering at me. I can almost hear it say "It's your fault for believing. It's your fault for trying."

I think back on my life. Was this worth it? Was this life meaningful? Was it worth all the despair and pain? Or was it all a play by God to amuse himself before dinnertime?

If there is one thing I can do in my last moments, it is to curse the world. This world that is not worth living. This world that is not worth existing.

The approaching ground. The laughing moon. I notice its laughter is very familiar. It resonates deep within my soul. Does the world really want to mock me that much?

And then, just before I hit the ground.

"Ah, haha... It's my own voice."

Approaching the end of my journey, meeting an unfathomable amount of suffering, confronting Hell itself, I notice something odd happening with myself. Enlightenment seems to have lost its meaning and turned into insanity. All of a sudden it dawns upon me; all those things I did were beyond my control! Beyond any sense and rational thought process. Everything related to them was beyond any kind of logic. They happened because of my beliefs. What does that mean? Do they exist also outside the realm of a person who holds such beliefs? Am I forced to carry them like some mental baggage throughout my entire existence so long as they are still active?

No, no, no. There has got to be more to it than that. Then why did I choose this belief system? Why couldn't I find another path to enlightenment?!

Perhaps because it suited me well enough, because it seemed practical, because it meant everything was predefined and ordered; perhaps out of fear of death, perhaps out of longing for peace. Whatever. Regardless, I've carried it through, wherever possible, and ended up here (or there rather).

Doubt soon passes from my mind. It is impossible to allow random thoughts enter my consciousness once I'm in this state. Fear is driven away by sheer distance: look down, feel terrified and intimidated, peace truly exists now. Words fail me, but will likely never again succeed to convey what I felt.

Behind me, that place where the light is most powerful, is the Sun―nature's strongest weapon against mere mortals... But how cruel would it be to use such power against oneself?

Yet, still I look up. Not only to admire the beauty of this natural landscape and to preserve as many memories as I could committed into paper, but also for spite towards our current civilization.

I lift another hand too.

"Ignore humanity!"

The world shall burn, disregarding common decency, surviving via burning corpses, eventually consuming itself on Calorie-Crisis of Ouroboros-Worms, as we became nothing more than immortal pebbles in the river of time...

"Noooooooooooooo!!"

So...

As for me...

I hear words from my past...

"Be silent, fool."

I cease moving...

I know not what happens next...

• • •

I don't remember,

I cannot recall...

I forgot the name...

I lost the memory...

My heart just stopped...

My mouth is sealed...

What transpired is a blur...

Who cares...

I'll tell you later...

There's something important...

Before I get any further ahead...

Phew...

Hm...

Whew...

I feel fine...

I mean, it's not as if every cell of my body exploded from getting fried under exposure to hydrogen-fusion flames for 120 seconds at 250° C. in midair. Still, scissors and needles hurt... I suppose I shouldn't waste time worrying about pain or fire burns when time's precious, and I should probably concentrate on other things.

Like what? Well, obviously it is to figure out whether all this was worth dying for. It certainly seems apparent that I died. If everything started falling apart the last few moments before impact, I believe I can safely assume I will never see this world again.

But why? What exactly do I die trying to escape a hopeless situation for? Perhaps to change one's fate, perhaps just because it is the right thing. Either way doesn't matter much now. Whatever the case, I am dead. My former life is over and, as for my future...

Well, that question already has an answer.

The bottom of the world lies before me...

This cityscape casts a near perfect shadow of the buildings surrounding––a beautiful green, even amid these concrete piles. And yet, still they diminish my surroundings. It feels almost as though I'm coated in a film of destruction, my senses numbed and rendered useless.

Goodbye, planet. Goodbye, humanity. You will not be missed. As I think to myself, I suddenly notice something alarming happening with my own vision. The topography below me is vanishing bit by bit. I begin to wonder whether this might be an instance of godlike powers that exist beyond the confines of human knowledge.

No. That can't be it. I have no idea how, but it must be some kind of optical illusion.

Yet still I stand frozen. Is this God testing me? Does this mean I failed his test? Or maybe he merely does this to make sure we actually encounter the truth of reality. Maybe this is all part of the "trial". Whatever...

I start walking forward, hoping that it won't end too soon. Every step I take introduces me to new ground. Soon enough, my legs are gasping for air; soon they give out entirely and everything begins coming undone. I find it ironic, considering I was aiming for this moment. I tilt back and gaze upward. While seeing the moon is like nothing else in existence, looking up makes me feel drained of energy.

And just as it all started, my non-existent consciousness ceases to exist altogether. If I ever could desire for something, it would be to not wake up at all. But if I am to wake up, I must at the very least plead God to not be imprisoned within the confines of the flesh. At best, such a Being will find my wish granted.

But I hope this means the worst is over. After all, biological immortality is said to result in unending suffering, while heaven is unbearably boring... Who knows?

Ah... Sweet release...

• • •

"It's too hot," complains Yuki.

Her open robe reveals her small body, tan skin covered by white lingerie, and the binders she wears around the wrists of arms that cease to function as such.

Her head rests against a tree trunk, jet-black hair covers most of her face. She is not sleeping so much as lying next to the body of Arisu, who is also bound to a chair. They were originally captives in the Demon City Zeltis' underground arena. It lies before them just feet away from their current position.

"Man... I really hate this place..." Yuki mutters, glancing towards the luminous sky above.

Arisu replies: "This is a dream... This isn't real."

She continues: "Arena matches here last forever!"

Yuki asks sarcastically: "So you're here to come screaming and pushing your body, saying 'no fair! Stop it!' huh?"

The two sit there, staring at each other as they recall their pasts. Their destinies diverge. The same madness lurks in both of their eyes.

Meanwhile...

"'You're strong. I respect that,'" remarks Saki.

He is seated on a nearby table. His face, surrounded by flames and coats him with poisonous smoke, looks stoic. A pipe burned to ash sits idle between his lips. Red-dyed clothes hang from his shoulders, seared black.

Saki's voice echoes across the stage. He is playing the role of Serpent, one of the bosses.

"'Your spirit, at least, is pure. Only those of the past are worthy of consideration.' You, you know what's coming? It has been foretold ages ago, when the world itself was still young. 'Through blood, a transformation shall be given...'"

He swings his sword as he speaks in an unusually melodramatic manner. Lines written in hieroglyphics supposedly etched into a bell-shaped object sit in front of him.

His sermon is followed up by the sound of bells ringing throughout Zeltis, signaling that night's Arena match has begun. All the combatants on stage have now gathered before the row of entrances leading into the center of the city. The roars of excitement quickly grow louder, drowning out even the distant drums of war.

However, ignorant to all of that outside pandemonium...

A single spore floats in the air, uncaring. It is the smallest of spores, merely an area of emptiness akin to a dry spot one might find after stepping in mud or paint. At first glance it seems like nothing more than a nonexistent dot of light, but this little speck acts very much as though its existence is being observed.

Until... someone approaches it. Stands in its way. And thus begins.