[Third trial complete]
[Ding!]
[-Player will now be recognized by the system]
[Ding!]
...
"Haah!" A young man gasped, and the first thing that came to his sight was a vast cosmos. It was familiar to him—he had, after all, been here more often than not. It was the gate which held the circle of reincarnation, the very place where he met the Keeper.
"You have returned," he looked up.
There it was.
An enormous body, silhouetted by the backdrop of the cosmos. Staring intently at his soul.
He gazed at the Keeper, quietly, calmly. Then after a while, he spoke, "You were supposed to end this... this torment... you were supposed to erase me. Why? Why do you keep using me?" he asked, his eyes blank, staring at the figure.
"You... remember," the Keeper said. "Well... it makes no difference." The arrogance behind those words clearly stated his helplessness, plain and simple.
He remained silent. At this point, he no longer cared. The nether realm, or whatever it was—let it happen. He was at the lowest point any being could reach, a point where the urge to live was overshadowed by countless horrific memories that constantly broke him. It wasn't just about Quincy; it was the fact that... he was always a slave. In fact, EVERYONE NOT OF HIGHER STANDING, of greater power, anyone not of the status of gods, was merely a piece on a chess board.
But even then, there were special pieces—the knights, bishops, rooks, queens, and kings. Pieces of VALUE. Pieces a player favors above the PAWNS. He was not any of those. He wasn't even a pawn of use. He was a disposable pawn, the piece which the player sacrifices just for fun at the very start of a chess game. Those pieces in front, the ones who have no meaning, barely even considered by the player—a fleeting move to throw their opponent off balance.
That was all his foolishness from the very start—to think a god would offer him freedom. He was insignificant, weak, and utterly powerless against such beings.
"Send me down," he said, watching.
"You... want to taste eternal torment?" the Keeper asked, a hint of surprise in its voice.
"It's what you wanted... do it. I don't want your freedom... Send me down," he said, then fell silent.
"You truly are foolish... freedom awaits you just a step away and you choose to turn back?!" It roared in enormous rage.
He just stared. It was better the Keeper did as he asked. If it forced him to reincarnate, he would do... nothing. Absolutely nothing. He would not fight—for what was the end gain? What was it worth? What would he receive after playing the part of a pawn? Nothing. Nothing at all.
He didn't believe the Keeper.
Not then (perhaps just a little).
But definitely not now.
"YOU WILL GO." Those three words resonated through his very being. It seemed the Keeper was much more desperate than it appeared.
"I won't play a part in whatever it is you want. Just end this," he said.
Then suddenly, the Keeper grinned. A crack in the cosmos.
"Oh? But it's too late to turn back now."
He frowned.
[Ding!]
Something appeared before his field of vision.
An interface.
[System now attached to ???]
"The system..." muttered the young man with a frown. What exactly was going on now?
"It's already complete... You have no choice."
"What do you want from me?" the young man asked, at this point unable to understand why the Keeper seemed so fixated on his soul.
"You will learn..."
"Truly learn..."
"ARCK!" It was so sudden—so sudden he couldn't understand what exactly hit him.
Pain.
Once again.
Something was forcefully ripping his soul apart.
"Your will be reincarnated into the playground of gods... Your mission is to see to my return," was all he heard before darkness claimed him.