CLING CLING CLING
The same metallic sound echoed throughout a vast, blindingly white chamber. Everything—the towering pillars, the smooth walls, the cold floor, the high ceiling, the giant gate, the barred windows—everything was white.
This was the God Realm.
Even here, slaves were being brought in. But unlike the Demon Realm, the variety of races was entirely different.
In the Demon Realm, the slaves had included humans (both male and female), male-only monster hybrids, male elves, and Cacutelle of both genders.
But here, there were no humans. No Cacutelle. Among the elves and monster hybrids, only females were brought.
The Cacutelle—a unique race with cactus-like bodies and properties—can only be seen in this realm.
Inside one of the many cages was a 22-year-old female elf, stunningly beautiful and heartbreakingly worn down. She looked like a princess from a forgotten kingdom—her elegant clothes torn in several places, her pale face marred with bruises as if she'd been viciously beaten. She sat silently in the cage alongside two other female elves, whose appearances were far more ordinary compared to hers.
Her entire body was unnaturally pale—skin like porcelain, lashes as white as snow, hair cascading down like a frozen waterfall, and even her eyes were white, giving her an ethereal, almost ghostlike beauty. Her clothing, too, was white, making her seem like she belonged to this realm more than any other creature present.
These slaves had been brought here by angels—heavenly beings of breathtaking beauty, though not one of them could compare to the elf in the cage. The angels were adorned in divine, white garments and each bore two luminous white wings. In their hands, they held long, wand-like weapons crafted from wood. At the top of each wand floated a glowing green orb, spinning rapidly within a vortex of emerald energy.
Among them, the most beautiful angel stepped forward and spoke with a serene but commanding voice:
"Slaves. You have been brought here to purify this universe. For one month, you will be given food three times a day—but only enough for one per cage. Whether you share it or fight for it… that's up to you."
She paused, then added with a twisted smile:
"Oh, and… there are no laws here. You may do whatever you wish."
The moment those words were spoken, chaos erupted.
The God Realm, despite its divine appearance, was now a cage of lawless despair. Among the various cages were creatures from different races—trolls (both male and female), Techna (a robotic species of both genders), male-only shapeshifters, and many more.
And when the captives realized there were no rules, many descended into madness.
Male slaves turned violently upon the females caged with them, engaging in horrifying acts of assault. In cages with only males, the atrocities continued without hesitation. In the all-female cages, fights broke out immediately, each woman trying to survive by taking down the others.
The same chaos unfolded in the cage with the white-haired elf.
One of the other elves kicked her in the head, slamming her to the ground. The pain throbbed, but the deeper agony was in her heart. She despised violence. Yet here, in this merciless realm, she had no choice.
All she wanted was to return to her father. But she didn't even know if he was alive. He had been captured along with her—by the demons. Since then, there had been no word.
And now, all she had was this silent white hell… and the will to survive it.
The scene was grotesque, a nightmare playing out in pristine white. Yet, the angels—those divine beings who brought the slaves here—watched with expressions that were far from horrified.
Their eyes gleamed with a disturbing hunger, their breath shallow, lips parted slightly in pleasure. It was as if the chaos unfolding below aroused them, like they were on the verge of ecstasy. They were enjoying every second of it.
Inside one of the cages, the white-haired elf—the most beautiful among them—lay wounded. Blood trickled from her bruised face, and her once elegant form was now slumped against the cold white floor.
Suddenly, one of the two other elves in the cage—a 13-year-old girl, the youngest of them—grabbed the beautiful elf by her long, white hair and yanked her violently forward.
"If you had just stayed inside that damn shelter for your daddy," she hissed, her eyes filled with hatred, "I wouldn't be here! You're the reason I was captured, you bitch!"
Without warning, she slammed her fist into the elf's face, over and over—three, four brutal strikes. Blood burst from the elf's nose, and she crumpled to the ground again, barely conscious.
Before she could land another blow, the third elf, a 16-year-old, rushed in and tackled the younger one to the side. The two teens, both relatively unharmed until now, erupted into a vicious brawl.
Clothes torn, nails scratching, fists flying—rage overtook reason.
Their fight spiraled out of control, and in the chaos, both slammed into the bars of the cage.
The bars—pure white, elegant, almost delicate in design—weren't made of lava like those in the Demon Realm, but something far more cruel.
The moment their bodies made contact, an electric current surged through them—millions of volts of pure agony.
Their screams were short-lived. Flesh blackened, eyes burned out, skin peeled in an instant. In mere moments, both girls were dead, their bodies twitching, smoldering where they fell.
And then, as if on cue, the most beautiful angel stepped forward, her voice calm and almost playful:
"Oh, I forgot to mention…" she said with a smile. "The bars are electrified. Try not to touch them."
She was beautiful—undeniably so—but standing in front of that elf, her beauty felt meaningless. The white-haired elf, even bloodied and broken, still outshone her. Like a fallen goddess wrapped in pain.
The cages themselves, though oppressive, were almost pristine. Made entirely of white, they matched the purity of the God Realm's illusion. Each held a neat, light-blue bed, and even the sheets looked clean. Compared to the Demon Realm, the conditions here were… deceptively better.
But that illusion wouldn't last long.
The white-haired elf—now alone in the cage, the only survivor—knew this truth deep in her bones:
If she wanted to stay alive, she'd have to fight.
Not just with strength, but with her will, her mind, her soul.
And even then, it might not be enough.