Ray lay on the sterile hospital bed, eyes heavy, every breath a slow rebellion against the merciless decay inside him. The rhythmic beeping of machines was a cruel metronome marking his dwindling time. Outside the gigantic glass window, the rain battered the city—a dull symphony for the dying.
Aetherra, his home. The world worn thin by war and chaos. Magic and technology intertwined in desperate attempts to keep the darkness at bay. Two continents lost. Five Level-7 warriors left. And him—a single, fragile thread in the fraying tapestry
"You're really going to kick the bucket, huh?" came a voice in his mind. 15, his system assistant, pineapple sarcastic as ever, cracking jokes at the worst possible moments.
Ray gritted his teeth. "Not the time for jokes, 15."
"And yet, here we are. Seriously, who's the scriptwriter of this existential tragedy? You or me?"
Weakness tugged at him, dragging memories to the surface—the fragments of his past life slipping through the cracks.
*Just pain, regret, and mistakes piled like tombstones in my mind.*
He remembered the faces—family, friends, foes—blurred by time and distance. What had he truly accomplished? Not much. Just a boy caught in a merciless world, dreaming of kindness while drowning in sickness.
"If there really is a god out there, it better be somewhere cute. Because this is a terrible apocalypse waiting to happen," Ray muttered under his breath, voice barely audible.
"Funny, that's exactly the problem. The last three gods took an extended vacation. Universe abandoned. Welcome to the end times, buddy."
His vision dimmed, colors bleeding into darkness. The warmth of life faded like sand slipping through fingers... and yet, a faint glow shimmered ahead.
"Ray..." A soft voice echoed in his mind, gentle but commanding. The Shepherd God, guardian of simple souls, meeting him one last time.
"You're kind-hearted, fragile, still full of doubt. But I offer you a choice—one last chance at life, a path to change the fate of worlds."
Ray's heart, brittle though it was, beat with something new: hope. "What do I need to do?"
"Embrace the gift. Become the Shepherd. Guide lost souls, build a sanctuary, grow beyond what you are. But beware—the road will be cruel, and fate will test your spirit."
His mind flooded with visions—of a lush domain, mysterious systems, dark realms crawling with monsters, the God Market's whispers, and portals bridging worlds unknown.
"Sounds like a nightmare dressed as a fairy tale," Ray quipped dryly.
"And I'm your snarky companion. Welcome to forever."
The hospital room faded entirely. The last breath left his body, his soul emerging from the red portal, slipping beyond the known worlds into the Godless Realms—the crucible of monsters and demons.
Ray opened his eyes to a twisted new beginning. The real game was just starting.