Chapter 2: False God
"Where am I?"
Roy finally found his voice but only in his mind. He found himself drowned in a sea of darkness.
The dark did not pull away all at once. It dissolved slowly, like ink in milk, leaving behind a thick, milky haze that stung the back of his mind before it ever reached his eyes.
He tried to blink. The action felt monumental, a rusted mechanism grinding against itself.
When his eyelids finally parted, there was no relief—only a vast, aggressive emptiness. It wasn’t a room, or a sky, or a destination.
It was simply white.
An infinite, white expanse that offered his eyes absolutely nothing to grip onto.
"Where am I?" He asked again, his heart shaking as he tried to turn his head to find a corner, a shadow, a silhouette.
Nothing moved.
Panic, cold and sharp, flared within him—or it should have. But as he tried to grasp, he realized he had lost his senses.
His sense of smell and his sense of touch. He couldn’t feel his throat; he tried to reach down to touch his torso, but there was nothing.
He felt nothing....!!
"I remember now..!" His eyes widened in shock. "I-I was in my bathroom just now....wasn’t my mom yelling at me seconds ago?."
"Am I dead? Is this hell?" His mind was submerged in his own thoughts; he had many questions to ask.
But he couldn’t ask them out loud....he had no voice.
"Hold on.....Is this another soul?" a voice asked. It was flat, clinical, and entirely stripped of empathy.
"Arggh, such a pain," a second voice grumbled. "Wasn’t the selection of players over?"
"Yes, it should be. The quota of a thousand transmigrators has been filled up again," the first voice answered.
"Then the game is online already. Why is there a soul sent here?" a third voice asked.
"I don’t know, don’t ask me," the first voice stated.
"Tch," a soft growl was heard. "What should we do with this transmigrator?" the second voice asked.
"If he’s here after the selection process is over... maybe before his death, he learned of a secret he should never have."
There was a brief, terrible pause. A phantom chill seemed to ripple through his non-existent spine as the second voice spoke again, lower this time around.
"Then should we erase this soul?" the second voice asked. "The Director is busy, he won’t notice...."
"What is going on?" Roy’s heart skipped a beat.
"I agree," the first voice supported. "It’s such a hassle thinking about what to do with this soul," the first voice sighed.
"But what if the Director were to figure it out?" the third voice asked. "Won’t we be in trouble for killing a player?"
"Pfft," the second voice laughed. "Killing a player. This is just a transmigrator, he isn’t a player yet.."
"The rules are only applicable to players in the game!" the second voice explained.
"I disagree," a fourth voice spoke.
"Why?" the second voice asked, this time his voice was low, as if he was shaken by fear.
"Our duty is to regulate the game as Administrators. Regardless of the Director’s absence."
"We shouldn’t kill a wandering soul," the fourth voice stated.
"What should we do with this soul then?" the first voice asked.
"Hmmm...." the fourth voice sighed. "I have a plan, just stay quiet and observe."
The three voices stayed silent.
"Hello," the fourth voice boomed across the void. Roy, who was overwhelmed with fear, staggered back for a second.
A distortion rippled through the emptiness, like a drop of water falling into a mirror.
The void began to curdle. The light itself seemed to thicken, folding inward, drawing mass from the nothingness around it.
Slowly, a shape began to separate from the background—not because it possessed a color, it was a dense, chalky silhouette.
A figure rising out of the white like a sculpture being carved from snow by invisible hands.
It was human in architecture, yet entirely alien in its execution.
"Who are you?" In the presence of this entity. Roy could finally speak aloud, his senses returned back to him but he positioned himself ready for battle against this unknown.
The entity stood on two legs, arms hanging loosely at its sides. "You must be Roy Vance, right?"
"Hero of Humanity." The fourth voice reverberated across space.
"Hero of Humanity? Pfft" Roy let out a self deprecating laughter, "Is this a joke or what? The only time I was a hero was when I was jerking off"
"I’m just a pathetic loser as you can see"
"Who are you? Where am I? Shouldn’t I be dead? What is going on?" Roy had too many questions to ask.
But the entity stood unfazed. "My existence is of no importance to you, but I’m what they call an Administrator."
"Where you are is the Selection Zone, the domain where wandering souls recognized by the Aether venture into."
"We are the Regulators who regulate the games. And yes, you are dead, but the way you died is quite underwhelming," the fourth voice answered.
"Tch," Roy clicked his tongue. "You don’t need to tell me what I already know, to think I was a loser even in death" he deeply sighed.
"Isn’t that funny?" the fourth voice chuckled. "That’s quite sad, but this is how the game was meant to be played."
"Game?" Roy’s brows furrowed, "What the hell are you talking about?" he questioned.
"I’m talking about Fate" The figure stepped forward. "In every story, there’s always a hero and a villain. A king and a beggar"
"You were fated simply to be useless" the fourth voice chuckled.
"But now it’s time for you to play the role of a God," the fourth voice stated.
"Huh?" Roy’s eyes widened in shock. "A god?" He remembered his last video game where he conquered a god to clear the game.
"Yes," the fourth voice answered. "All wandering souls recognized by the Aether come here to the Selection Zone."
"And we Administrators guide them to the game where they become gods. Some games are meant to be played by a single player."
"But the game {Arkan Unlimited} was meant to be played by a thousand players. A thousand gods."
’Wait...Arkan Unlimited? Wasn’t it the game I just spent three days clearing?’ Roy was left dumbfounded.
"The fact that the game’s already online makes it even more difficult."
"Your transmigration makes you an anomaly we didn’t calculate." The fourth voice sighed deeply. "The rules are not simple, they cannot be changed."
"We can only twist them for a designated period of time," the fourth voice sighed.
"I’ll ask you one question, child" the fourth voice paused for a moment, "Do you want to live?" the voice thundered across the void.
"Is that even a question?" Roy scoffed, he shrugged, "I’m just barely nineteen, I haven’t lived my life yet"
"Why wouldn’t I want to live?" Roy asked.
"Is that so?" a creepy smile appeared on the figure’s lips, "That settles it then..."
"What do you mean by that?" Roy asked.
A pair of crimson eyes appeared on the entity’s face.
"What I mean is, since you’re in the Selection Zone, I’ll give you a chance."
"You’ll be transferred into the {Arkan Unlimited}, but instead of transmigrating as a true god like the other players..."
"There you will be a false god," the fourth voice explained. "While the game is online, you have only ten years to accumulate ten thousand followers."
"Then you’ll be able to ascend into a true god," the fourth voice stated.
"What if I fail?" Roy asked.
"If you fail?" the fourth voice chuckled. "Then I’ll erase you myself. Before the Director notices your existence."
Roy gulped, swallowing his saliva. Just staring at this mysterious figure caused his body to shiver.
The figure stretched forth his right hand. "Before I send you to the game, I should give you a warning."
"Do not let the true gods notice you!"
