This world ran on a strict system. Just like everyone in Halo's previous world, humans had purposes that they fulfilled each day out, this world had forced that will into a task.
The world gave out missions called Purposes. Even in the game, though Halo couldn't fulfill many Purposes himself, he knew each one came with a reward called a Wish. A failed Purpose meant game over.
Despite those, the hero's journey was fixed with specific Wishes and Purposes, which led him to face off against the gods in just a year.
Since no player was able to play as the Hero but rather as adventurers or comrades, the ruin of the world wasn't something any player could prevent.
But now, as a living being in this world, this wasn't something Halo could watch happen.
His situation was unusual, though. He should have received his first Purpose the moment he awakened. Maybe the gods were giving him time to adjust.
He made his way through the forest with the giant trees' canopy casting shadows of the distant sun's rays onto the dark soil below.
He had been walking for quite some time now, and though it piqued him as to how he would manage to shit and shower, find sustainable shelter and meals, he couldn't completely escape his bizarre, dazed mind.
Each person in this world was sponsored by a god. The gods granted abilities and weapons, turning mortals into entertainment as they slaughtered each other and Sinners alike. The hero had wanted to end it, kill the gods, and free everyone. Instead, it led to something far worse.
Halo had no desire to kill the gods himself. His goals were simpler, to prevent the hero from slaughtering them all, and to figure out what his fate actually meant.
"What exactly made me a god's fascination? I mean, I barely knew anything about this game."
Halo muttered, ruffling his hair in confusion.
He would have preferred to be scared because his devious nature only made his situation more complicated.
His sponsor god was Death. Only Sin, they called it. He'd seen that much. The logic seemed simple enough: he died, so Death claimed him. But that didn't answer the real question. Thousands died every day in his world. Thousands more in this one. Why choose him—a killer, an assassin—out of all of them?
After a while, maneuvering his way through the cholesterol that dwarfed his size and mushrooms that made the trees seem like toddlers, Halo began to worry. There was no sign of the next land. In the game, it wasn't that far from the academy ground.
He had been cautious about his surroundings, scanning for signs of any Sinners. Though the game didn't have any danger within this early stage, he couldn't help but be cautious. He was in a foreign territory after all.
After a brief moment, Halo instinctively halted with his eyes slightly narrowed while he stared into the distance in confusion.
He could see a misty sensation looming in his direction. This wasn't in the game, which had him panicking for a moment.
Sinners crawled most lands in this world, and if he had somehow ended up on the wrong side of the land, he could face challenges beyond his control, and worse, he had no weapon to defend himself. If he could recall correctly, hand-to-hand combat with a Sinner could be proven challenging.
Without wasting a second, he began taking backward steps. His eyes and danger instincts didn't fail him. They remained active as ever. The moment he reached a safe distance, he paused.
But now his thoughts transcended danger. In the heat of the moment, he couldn't help but seek to understand his abilities. To walk past the mist, he would need it.
'Status.'
The moment the word echoed in his mind, the bronze screen popped before his eyes.
***
[ Name: Halo D. Tenebris
Title: Shadow of Death
Rank: Awakened
True ability: Death Clone - - - Description:
Flaw: Coldness
Only Sin: Death
Nemesis:?
—
Sin Fragments: 0/10
Dominant Skill: Agility
Clones: 0 ]
***
Halo sighed in disappointment and shook his head. He had missed something vital. Even his confusion shouldn't have been enough for him to miss that.
His title seemed odd, and he had no nemesis, something he was supposed to have from the beginning.
The world was starting to prove challenging already, though he was certain this was the Lost World, the world in which the game Damnation of the Gods took place, but some things felt off.
He reached for his hair and began pulling it from frustration, his blue eyes darting frantically on the floor.
A title symbolized the bond between a player and their god. Strange, he couldn't remember the hero's title at all. Did the game ever even mention it? But his nemesis? The Ancient Light. The hero had made damn sure everyone knew that title.
Players were meant to hunt their nemesis from the beginning. Once found, the system would assign a purpose, specific instructions on what to do with them.
The hero found his within a year. Killed him. The power gained from the Ancient Light alone made him strong enough to challenge the gods themselves.
But Halo had none. Was he even a player? He was an actual person after all.
As puzzling as this was, his situation demanded much focus.
His eyes found the bronze screen once more, focusing soullessly on his True Ability.
'Description.' He thought.
***
[ Death Clone: Description:
You may summon clones of yourself, of others, and of all who have fallen by your hand. You become one.
Yet know this, what you wield is only a gift on loan, never a truth you possess. When Death comes to gather its belongings, it will reclaim them, and all you believed was yours will vanish like dust in your grasp. ]
***
Halo frowned. "Wait… what?!"
His face began twitching with irritation as he tried to contain his anger.
He should be dead. The poison would've been slow and excruciating, so in a way, dying had seemed like mercy. Then he woke up here, thrown into this brutal world. And for what? To be told his power wasn't even really his?
"Tsk. Fuck these gods…"
This was new. He'd played this game obsessively. Hell, he'd once griefed his best friend by deleting a Lost Saint-ranked character just to replay from Awakened level with a stupid chicken-head cosmetic. He thought he knew every mechanic. Apparently not this one.
His pragmatic mind refused to spiral, though. He focused on utility. An ability to clone anyone or anything he killed? Now that had potential. He could kill the hero and resurrect him as a loyal puppet. The possibilities were almost worth the strings attached.
He smirked.
That wasn't something he intended to do anyway. Despite his monstrous persona, he wasn't one to kill for fun. Unless necessary, he'd rather reason. He knew what it meant to lose someone.
That thought just fascinated him.
Before long, his mind drifted back to his predicament. How was he supposed to face the mist before him without any outright ability?
Or… could he?
'I summon a clone of myself.'
The screen disappeared and resurfaced barely a second later.
***
[ Would you like to summon a clone of yourself? ]
Price: 2 Sin Fragments.
| Yes | No |
***
He slapped his forehead in disbelief.
How could he forget? Sin Fragments were the universal currency in this world. You obtain them by killing Sinners or humans alike.
It came with the fallen's dormant skill and a piece of their Flaw—a defect that ate deep into everything in this world. Though most flaws were recurring, each was unique in its own way, and they grew each day.
He'd traded a Sin Fragment for a secret from a player he'd killed, barely a second before his death. He couldn't even see what secret he'd received.
Halo clenched his teeth. This meant he had to face this mist alone.
He was paranoid, yes, but he knew there wasn't much he could do. This was a foreign territory. He might have been familiar with the world to some extent, but he would admit in a heartbeat that he knew almost nothing. And so, wandering at night couldn't be a safer bet.
He had to push through the mist and get to a populated land.