In a place that could not be pointed out on any map, beyond the stars, the planets, and time itself, the gods gathered once more.
There was neither sky nor ground in that space; neither above nor below.
Only an immense dark, calm, and eternal expanse, where reality seemed to be sustained by pure will.
There was no wind, there was no echo, there were no heartbeats. And yet, everything was alive.
There, suspended in the void, stood an enormous table made of a material impossible to recognize.
It did not shine nor reflect light, yet neither did it absorb it.
It was simply there.
As if it had always existed. As if it had been present before the first thought, before the first atom, before any god who now sat around it.
Around that table, the deities took their seats.
Entities of different forms and presences: some humanoid, with serene faces and bodies that seemed made of constellations; others completely alien to any mortal logic, masses of energy that changed shape with every blink; some were merely silhouettes cut out in the darkness; others, concepts without a fixed body, perceptible only by the pressure they exerted on the surroundings.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
It was not silence out of respect nor fear, but out of habit.
They all knew what that meeting meant.
They had lived it too many times.
The game that had entertained them for countless eras was about to begin once more.
Glances crossed, some filled with expectation, others with boredom, and even a few with weariness.
There were those who already knew what role they would play. There were those who simply watched, resigned to repeating the ritual.
No one knew for certain what awaited them, though they all believed they did.
It was always the same…
Or so they thought.
At the center of the table, two dice rested motionless.
They were neither large nor particularly striking.
They could have passed for simple cubes carved with ancient symbols.
But their mere presence made the air —if it could be called air— feel heavier.
They were the dice of destiny.
Artifacts created before the first universe. Before time. Before the very concept of chance.
Capable of deciding the course of existence.
Soon they would be cast onto the invisible board that stretched across the table, and their result would determine the winner of yet another war.
One of many.
One of those wars that repeated themselves again and again, with different names, different worlds, and different sacrifices.
—The destiny of the world created by all the gods… the core of everything… is about to begin.
The voice resonated without needing to be raised. It did not vibrate in the space; it simply imposed itself.
The Goddess of the Beginning and the End had spoken.
Her figure stood out clearly among them all. Not because she was larger or brighter, but because her presence was impossible to ignore. Wherever she was, reality became clear. Defined.
She was the beginning and the end of all that existed; the first spark and the last breath. Even the oldest gods felt a faint shiver when standing before her.
—As you all know —she continued calmly—, the game is simple. Thirty-nine heroes and one Demon King will be created. The side that emerges victorious will obtain a wish, and I will be the one to grant it.
Some gods nodded in silence. Others looked away, as if that promise no longer surprised them.
—Although —she added after a brief pause—, if the Demon King wins… I do not know what might occur. The truth is, it has never happened, and I do not believe it will.
A faint murmur ran across the table.
It was not fear.
It was habit disguised as certainty.
—Furthermore, it is forbidden to see the future or know the outcome beforehand. We, the gods… not even I myself, can know it.
Her voice grew more serious.
—But if this time the heroes win, all universes and their timelines will be eliminated to reset everything once more.
The words fell like a sentence.
The other gods understood perfectly what that meant.
It was not merely the destruction of worlds.
It was the total eradication of everything they knew: stories never told, civilizations that had flourished in silence, loves that left no trace, memories that existed only in the minds of beings who never knew they were part of a game.
And yet, no one contradicted her.
It could not be stopped, because such was the will of the Goddess of the Beginning.
She existed beyond everything, even beyond them. She was the beginning of reality, the anchor that sustained existence. If she were eliminated, everything would end.
Absolutely everything.
Nothing could destroy her…
Except the Void.
—I see… so the game will begin once again.
The voice that interrupted showed neither respect nor fear.
It did not vibrate. It did not impose itself.
It simply appeared.
—How many times have we done this? When was it that everything began…?
The speaker leaned back slightly in his seat, as if recalling something trivial.
His form was uncertain. At times he seemed like a young-faced man with a carefree smile; at others, a shadow without outline; at others, an abyss with eyes.
—Mmm… ah, I remember now. It was when your "perfect" creation gave rise to that world that marked the beginning of everything. Just to give yourself entertainment, was it not, Goddess of the Beginning?
Some gods tensed.
That being felt no fear.
He stood before the goddess who was everything, yet he existed beyond that everything.
Not because he was superior.
But because he was necessary.
In the end, he too was everything: the limit, the nothingness, the true end.
There was nothing above him. No being that could replace him. No will that could erase him.
Both existed as inevitable opposites.
Where one began, the other ended.
They were the living balance of reality.
—If you have come to annoy —said the goddess without altering her tone—, you may return to your prison.
—Easy, easy —he replied with a light laugh—. I have only come to make a small wager with you.
—A wager?
—Yes… a small wager. Or are you not bored of the same thing always happening?
The Goddess of the Beginning did not respond immediately.
Her silence stretched, heavy and absolute.
In that timeless space, that silence was longer than any eternity.
—Then I will take your silence as a "yes" —the Void continued—. To make it interesting, we shall continue with your monotonous game… but this time we will not create heroes nor a Demon King from scratch.
Some gods lifted their gaze.
The proposal was new.
And that, in a place where everything repeated itself, was dangerous.
—This time we will randomly choose forty humans. Ordinary people. With fears, doubts, dreams, and mistakes. Thirty-nine will be heroes… and one of them will be the Demon King. What do you say? It sounds interesting, does it not?
—It is not the same —the goddess finally replied.
—It seems so —he admitted—, but there is a key difference. The Demon King will have ten attempts to win. Each attempt will be more difficult, more cruel, and more despairing.
He leaned forward.
The space seemed to shrink around him.
—Thanks to your creation, the world will adapt and evolve. Both the heroes and the Demon King will obtain abilities. They will not be mere pieces… they will suffer, choose, and change.
His words were not a threat.
They were a promise.
—If the Demon King loses —he continued—, everything will be erased and we will begin again. As always.
Several gods exchanged glances.
That was no different.
—But if he wins… everything will continue as it is now.
That was different.
An uncomfortable silence took hold of the table.
Not out of fear of destruction.
But out of fear of the unknown.
—And lastly —added the Void—, you and I will choose two people to represent us. I will choose the Demon King. And you?
The Goddess of the Beginning watched him for a long moment.
Her gaze held no visible emotion.
But the universe trembled slightly.
—For me it is the same… —she said at last—, but that last part sounds entertaining.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
It was small.
But enough for several gods to avert their gaze.
—I will create a new hero. One with a power that will always defeat your foolish Demon King. The advantage is on my side, because remember… no one can withstand the power of the Void.
The Void let out a low laugh.
—That remains to be seen.
Without another word, the two dice were cast upon the table.
There were no visible hands to propel them.
They simply began to roll.
They turned without haste, colliding softly, bouncing on a surface that had no visible limits. Each face displayed ancient symbols that changed as they rolled, as if fate itself hesitated before deciding.
The gods watched.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
The result would give only one winner.
But what was truly at stake was not a war.
It was the continuity of everything.
And thus, once more, destiny became uncertain.