Dirt Eater

He clearly remembered that day.

The sun had already risen. The streets were filled with people commuting to work. The sounds of cars and bicycles were mixed with the sporadic noise of people talking and cell phones ringing. The heat from the midsummer weather beat at them relentlessly, filling the air with the stench of sweat and car exhaust.

That day, his complexion as he stared at the mirror was particularly bad. Large, dark circles hung underneath his eyes. A dangerously lethargic sensation clung to his body.

He worked to live. He always felt it was a shame that he wasn't like others. It was different from someone who lived to work. He hated his job. But because of the economic crisis that loomed darkly over their shoulders, he had no choice but to continue toiling.

Seven years. It was roughly a fourth of his life. He hadn't experienced anything that people could dream of during that time. There were no job promotions, lasting friendships, big opportunities, and no romantic encounters... it was a life wasted just to see the following day.

His life before then was equally pained. Bullying, sickness, poverty, and many other things stifled him. Everything was done in a struggle. He clawed his way upward desperately, only to be met with seemingly-random circumstances that kicked him back down.

He had realized it long ago, but he couldn't get himself to improve his standing. After so many years, he had grown afraid of what it was like outside his life of suffering. He couldn't remember a time that didn't involve spending multiple days in the office without any sleep or being summoned to work on their few holidays. Many times he would spend the night drinking alone in a pub, and with the help of alcohol, manage to summon the courage to simply tell himself to change. But when the morning came, all that bravery would vanish.

And when he heard that his mother, his last source of warmth and comfort, had died over the phone, he simply felt the world turn black.

Maybe that was why he didn't even feel his death had come – because there was no difference.

As the white-clad god looked at his burnt-out soul from above, the deity couldn't help but sigh in sadness.

The god cupped his hands around the tiny flame, worried that the gentlest of heaven's breeze would extinguish it. He then lowered his divine gaze and addressed the poor soul that couldn't even muster enough strength to flicker.

"I'm sorry. It must have been hard. I'll grant you a new life; become the protagonist of your story."

He had read those kinds of tales before. Of course, what he knew about them was that they were all pure fantasy. Never in his life did he think that he would experience it for himself. He became hopeful. And in that hope, he found renewed vigor.

It will be different this time, he thought.

I will live a better life, he thought.

I will become successful, he thought.

I will raise a loving family, he thought.

And sure enough, that was the destined trajectory for most of his life in the new world.

With god's blessings, he was born into a caring, affluent family. He had excellent looks and was incredibly talented. He even had a beautiful childhood friend to whom he was betrothed at an early age.

Life looked secure. He had every opportunity available to him. And due to his hunger for excitement, he chose the life of an "adventurer."

In a world with magic, he desired to live in fantasy instead of pursuing the politics he had grown tired of.

He set his sights on the goal of every hero in storybooks: defeat the Lord of Demons and become the people's champion.

That was his dream. If he provided the effort, the heavens would reward him. And with god's blessings, he knew that it was achievable.

... That was what was supposed to happen, anyway.

The party of like-minded companions didn't come to his side. Instead of noble souls, he instead attracted notorious criminals. Instead of an army of knights, he gained a gigantic horde of monsters.

But what bothered him most was that he didn't end up becoming the story's protagonist.

It was the Lord of Demons. It was she who led them all.

And against them stood humanity. Heroes from all walks of life banded together against his side. Gallant knights in shining armor, mystical elves and their enchanted bows, and mighty dwarves in their heavy armaments, all representing the pinnacle of civilization, stood in confrontation against him and his liege.

"I'm sorry I crushed your dreams."

In the barren lands of battle, the Lord of Demons addressed him. Her voice alone carried enough power to shake the soil beneath them. But he didn't cower, not at all. Because after many years, he had already grown fond of it.

"But it can't be helped. This is what the world needs."

He thought back on his previous life. It was filled with nothing but misery. He punished himself only to be punished further. Nobody acknowledged him. He was below even a member of the crowd. Not even his own classmates could remember his name.

"We will be remembered... not as heroes, but as villains."

He had no friends. Nobody wanted to talk to him. Nobody even wanted to get close to him. Perhaps, he was just a gloomy, unlikeable person? There was no doubt in his mind that in his death, nobody even noticed him disappear.

"Today, all of us will die. But we will do so together."

Being a fatherless boy, all he had was his mother, who worked herself to the marrow to support the family. She was his only ally, even if she had never had the time for him. The boy never once had a back he could look up to. He was aimless, lifeless, and without purpose.

"So, follow me, for I am the "Bringer of Calamity," the greatest evil in the world!"

Back then, he never dared to hope for something else. He never tried to dream big. Deathly afraid of failure, he rotted away. He felt abandoned by the gods.

"I stand against all who hope, all who dream, and all who reach to the gods!"

And even though he was blessed with a second life filled with fortune and happiness, he still found himself at the very bottom in the end.

"I will extinguish their hopes. I will crush their dreams. And I will pull down the heavens."

So, why would he rebel against the world? From an outsider's perspective, he was expected to do so. It became the only choice.

"Come at me, "humanity," and make your stand."

... But he wasn't rebelling. Nothing was as it seemed. He didn't hate the world at large. Instead, he loved it. It was pure, innocent, childish love.

And that was why he stood against it. Everything was necessary.

He looked back at his precious friends, his companions; they who walked with him through life and death. And they looked back with conviction.

A necromancer.

A cannibal.

A heretic.

A traitor.

And finally, the Lord of Demons, the Enemy of Humanity, the Great Scourge... the true protagonist of "his" story.

They were his family. And together, they all shared one simple yet impossible dream.

"My friends... Let's save the world."