They say once you know the grand scheme of the gods, everything unravels, even the fabric of the universe itself.
Death is something everyone knows all too well—inevitable and unavoidable.
What lies beyond death remains a mystery to many, but for those like me, the truth is clear. After death, souls are transported to the Sanctuary. Contrary to its name, the Sanctuary is not a place of peace. It is a realm governed by Vitalis, the god of life, a figure revered across other worlds.
Upon arrival on the planet known as The Sanctuary, souls are bestowed with roles and titles that they must fulfill. Whether it's the esteemed position of Grand Wizard or the revered title of Priest of Purity, each role comes with its own set of responsibilities.
These roles are not merely ceremonial; they serve as a pathway for souls to ascend to higher realms. Through a structured system of tasks and trials, souls strive to earn the opportunity to participate in the trials of the gods and potentially ascend to godhood themselves, ruling over worlds within the vast universe of gods.
However, I was sent to the Sanctuary on my own, not escorted by the "great god" that rules over it...but all alone.
The only memory replaying in my head is of my father's smiling face looking down at me as I descend the stairs, not the pain of the bumps from the stairs against my skin or the sensations of my bones snapping in half, only the gleeful look in his eyes as I took my last breath.
And now, forced to look through the lens of a ghost, all I know, feel, or see is pain and hate.
From others, but mostly from within myself, harvesting like a parasite within my mind. I guess that's why I was bestowed with the name Carnage—destruction, hate, a destroyer of peace.
But what can I destroy now? I'm a ghost. Perhaps it's for the best that I was abandoned. I'll remain a fly in the corner of the room, observing everyone's every action and their lives, without ever having a chance to have my own.
Maybe that's my retribution for being so hateful.
.
.
After countless years of watching others live freely; exploring, growing, and chasing their final titles, what began as quiet acceptance in me twisted into envy, then jealousy, and finally a burning hatred.
The questions I once buried demanded answers.
I no longer held guilt for being named the embodiment of hate and destruction; instead, I wanted to embrace it. To exact it on Vitalis for abandoning me like my mother and father. But look at me... watching another battle in his world.
Trapped in the form of a ghost.
Looking down at the raging battle unfolding before me, I spot two people up against a level three ring beast. Its large body towers over them like a dragon, but instead of scales, it has pristine white fur that clads its body. Golden chest plates wrap around its chest, swirling and going down to its feet, where it clings to the floor like an eagle's foot.
And like a fly, I hover silently, watching it play out.
"Rellio, I'll go left and you right. We'll do just as we practiced," a girl with red hair says, her fists fastened with gauntlets. They look weak and unsteady due to the many fractures in and around them, a result of their relatively low endurance or because of their years being locked away as an ancient weapon.
It's always hard to discern.
Rellio, the boy, on the other hand, has a staff in hand.
"Clearly Rellio magic users, and the girl is either a chi user or something else entirely." I mutter to myself.
In a flash, the girl is the first one to go off, heading in her designated direction, slamming her fists together and causing miniature sparks of crimson light to flare a signal that tells me all I need to know.
A chi class.
With a thunderous roar, the creature lashes its tail toward her. She leaps into the air just as it crashes down, narrowly dodging the strike, and then, without hesitation, sprints up the length of its tail.
Brave; not a lot of people would take that risk.
Another deafening roar tears from its throat, echoing through Ring Two and silencing the chaos of every other battle. In an instant, glowing green orbs materialize around them, firing thin beams of light.
The force of the roar hurls her backward—but she manages to latch onto a hovering piece of debris, her fingers clawing into its edge.
"Rellio! Some help here!" she calls out, eyes locked on beams connecting together, forming one large one, and without delay shoots towards her.
"Right at you, Mika!" A burst of water deflects the beam, sending its course to another location, causing an immediate explosion upon impact.
Mika nods, a sign of gratification, as she pulls herself up onto the stone. Standing up, she tenses the muscles in her feet and launches forward, a trail of fire chasing her clenched fist. With both hands locked together, she slams them into the creature's head.
Flames burst on impact, dancing wildly before exploding and knocking it backward. From the left, the boy charges in—his staff aimed at the beast, its tip glowing with a swirling orb of white light, infused with shifting colors.
Suddenly, a narrow beam of light bursts forth, striking the beast before expanding in a flash. The ground lifts and cracks around it as the beam slices through the air, surging toward the creature and cleaving its head clean from its long neck.
The feeling of inadequacy lingers in my heart while watching them scream out for joy. Why can't I be like them? Feel the joy after a long fight, the adrenaline the human body gets? Why can I only feel this incurable HATRED.