Mohoti

What would a man from a world of Immortals, Mythical Beasts and Mystical abilities do when his memories resurface in a mundane world? 
Weighed by the morals and rules of the said world they fall into utter boredom that leads them to a path of solace.
Sam chose the Solace of Games and by luck a game that mirroed reality came to be.
But before the Game could even start a plethora of reasons made him play with intense vigor.
For the World Of Vestia was waiting for his Epics to be sang.

[A/N: Author here, your Golden Tickets and Power stones are much appreciated. I'll try to make your contributions more worthwhile.]

The Epics Of Vestia

Within a certain pocket space, hidden in between a complex weaving of spatial, darkness, shadow and concealment laws, a dark gathering was commencing.

The Pocket space itself was dimly lit as if light itself was wary of the existences that would meet ir simply because it wasn't allowed to exist within this space.

There was a black Obsidian Table in the middle of the said space it was extremely large but at the same time extremely small. It could hold a conference if thousands and yet could seemingly not hold more than ten people a truly odd piece if furniture.

It had no chairs around it but its shadow was thick almost to the loint where it could be mistaken for the darkness of the space but it was obky just a shadow.

North of the Table was a Pentagram, a symbol carved in threads of darkness and Anima. It was the mark of demons, a representation of their creed and undying loyalty to their Daemon Gods.

Chapter 51: Tapestry Of Schemes.