Chapter 1- Part 1 "The Awakening Era"
In the heart of a desolate, forest land, far beyond the reach of any map, a figure cloaked in shadows moved through the dense, twisted trees.
The wind howled, as if warning the traveller of dangers unseen. Yet, the figure pressed on, drawn inexplicably to a place that seemed to call from beyond the veil of time.
The journey was arduous, the path littered with ancient stones and overgrown with vines, the air thick with a sense of foreboding.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the figure stumbled upon it a hidden temple, half buried in the earth, concealed by the wild growth of the forest.
The structure was old, impossibly ancient, carved from dark stone that shimmered faintly in the dying light of day.
The entrance stood before the figure like a yawning mouth, framed by twisted roots and overhanging branches.
Symbols, worn by time, were etched into the stone walls markings of a long-forgotten language.
The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Inside, it was darker still, the temple's inner sanctum cloaked in shadows, as though the world outside had forgotten it ever existed.
Deep within the heart of the temple, a memorial stood an intricately carved monolith, covered in dust and cobwebs.
It loomed in the centre of the chamber, radiating a sense of ancient power. The figure approached cautiously, sensing something unusual about the monument.
As fingers brushed away the dust, ancient words began to reveal themselves, etched deep into the stone.
The figure's eyes traced the carvings, which seemed to pulse with a strange energy as the words revealed a forgotten tale.
"Once upon a time, my friends, out of boredom, decided to create a play. I chose not to participate, so they went ahead without me, selecting roles such as Super-star, Demon King, Ordinary Human Wife, Grand Mage, Divine Beast, Ancient Sword Master, and many more."
The figure paused, a strange feeling creeping in as the text unravelled a story long buried by time. The air around the memorial seemed to shift, growing heavier, as if the temple itself were alive.
"To be honest, I have no idea how long this role playing has been going on. Days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries? time has become a blur. What I do know is that this play has completely eradicated our boredom. However, I failed to realize the grave consequence."
"my friends had forgotten their true identities, losing themselves entirely in their roles. They now believed they were their characters, rather than just actors playing parts."
As the figure read further, an eerie sensation stirred within. The temple grew darker, the shadows closing in, yet the words seemed to glow faintly, illuminating the chamber.
"Despite my repeated attempts to remind them of their true nature as gods, my efforts were in vain. They could not recognize me and, instead, worshipped me as a deity. Whenever I tried to reveal their real identities, they only saw me as a god to be worshipped, not someone to be listened to."
A sudden breeze swept through the temple, though the outside world was still. The figure's heartbeat quickened, an unshakable feeling of familiarity settling deep within, as if the words were not just a forgotten tale but a memory.
" I've had enough of this absurdity! Therefore, I have decided to create a grander play to guide my friends to rediscover their true selves. Even if it takes millions or billions of eons, I will call this play Universe."
The words resonated deeply, and for the first time, the figure hesitated, feeling something shift inside. The ancient stone walls seemed to whisper, as if the very essence of the temple was speaking through the memorial.
"All of this I am sharing because I too will forget my own identity once I participate in this play. If you read this, try to remember who you really are."
As the final word was read, the temple seemed to exhale, a low, humming vibration reverberating through the stone. The figure stood still, as though frozen in place. A strange warmth spread from the core of their being, an inexplicable energy coursing through their veins.
It was as though something inside had been unlocked a door to a forgotten part of the soul. Memories long buried, perhaps not of this lifetime, stirred restlessly. The world seemed to ripple around the figure, the air heavy with a strange power. Images flashed through their mind of places unknown, faces unfamiliar yet hauntingly recognizable, fragments of another time, another life.
The figure stepped back from the memorial, their breath shallow, as if the weight of ages had just descended upon them. A sense of purpose, of destiny, began to take root. What had once been a simple exploration of unknown lands had now become something far more profound.
The words carved into the stone were not just a forgotten tale they were a message. A message that had been waiting for this very moment, for this very person. Something had awoken within the figure, a truth that had been hidden for far too long.
They were no longer just an explorer. Something greater was at play something that transcended time, memory, and existence itself.
The shadows of the hidden temple in an ancient land seemed to fold into themselves, swirling around the lone figure as they stepped into the darkness. The ancient, forgotten words of a god echoed in the dim, cavernous space, weaving a tapestry of forgotten realms and lost identities. The scene dissolved into a void, carrying with it the weight of eons.
---
Town of Arinthal [F-Grade City, Present Day]
In a cluttered room within the town of Arinthal, the alarm on an old cell phone blared insistently. Its ringtone cut through the quiet morning, disrupting the peaceful slumber of the room's occupant. A hand emerged from beneath a blanket, groggily reaching out to silence the alarm.
The phone's wallpaper displayed a nostalgic image of a 13-year-old boy celebrating Christmas with two friends, though the screen was marred by cracks. The charger cable, awkwardly taped together, was a makeshift solution to an earlier mishap.
Sixteen-year-old Vivek stirred awake, turning off the alarm with a groan. He unlocked his phone to find three new messages waiting. With a sigh, he set the phone aside and neatly folded the blanket, placing it in the cupboard before attending to the messages.
Vivek's room, a modest 10 square meters, was sparsely furnished: a bed, a cupboard, a table, a mirror, and a small fridge.
The condition of the room reflected its location in a dilapidated area of town, a slum where Vivek paid 200 Federal Coins a month for this humble space.
The room's disarray, marked by rat holes and spider webs, was a testament to the harsh living conditions. Despite his best efforts to keep the pests at bay, Vivek had patched up a charger cable that rats had chewed through two years prior, using tape to make do.
A black cat, curled up on a mat, served as a deterrent to any remaining rats, though spiders continued to be a nuisance.
Vivek's budget was tight, stretched thin across essentials: food, clothing, shelter, and education. The room had been infested with pests in the past, almost resembling a rat's den, but his efforts had kept them away for the past two years. The charger cable, still taped from its earlier encounter, stood as a symbol of Vivek's resilience.
His phone buzzed again with a new message—a notification of a deposit: 1000 Federal Coins into his bank account. It was the monthly allowance provided by the government to orphans like Vivek, who had no knowledge of their parents or their whereabouts. This allowance was a lifeline, a small but crucial support in a world that had dealt him a challenging hand.
As Vivek glanced at the phone, a new day began in the town of Arinthal an F-rated city on the kingdom's social scale, Vivek sat quietly, staring at the cracked screen of his phone. A rare kindness in a world that seldom spared much thought for those like him, the monthly allowance had just arrived, bringing with it a fleeting sense of relief. This place, where he had spent the entirety of his 16 years, was known as one of the lowest tiers in human society. To outsiders, cities like Arinthal were nothing more than distant, impoverished relics—mere whispers in the grand hierarchy that governed the kingdom.
The system that categorized human settlements was brutally simple: S, A, B, C, D, E, F, and G—the scale on which the value of a city and its people was measured. Cities ranked "G" were the most neglected, barely functioning outposts, straddling the edge of oblivion. They were so insignificant that if monsters were to destroy them in the dead of night, it would hardly warrant notice. The king stationed soldiers there, but only because these cities were the kingdom's final defence against monsters and enemy states.
The F grade cities, like Arinthal, were only a small step up from "G" towns. These places were grim mixtures of survival and ambition, where the rare spark of talent was buried beneath the weight of mediocrity. The population here was locked in a ceaseless struggle—people fought for personal gain, for advancement, for power—often ignoring the suffering of others. In comparison to the "E" grade cities, those blessed with development and advancement, F cities were like distant, decaying shadows, long forgotten by the rest of the kingdom. They were viewed as backward villages, undeserving of recognition, their citizens fighting to climb out of the squalor but always falling short.
The city's rating was a constant reminder of the world's cruel hierarchy:
- G grade cities were the forsaken, non-tier, border towns.
- F grade cities like Arinthal were small, two-star settlements.
- E grade cities were mid-tier, three-star cities, where wealth and talent could breathe, and opportunity wasn't as elusive.
- D grade cities, high-tier and four-star, were places of comfort and influence.
- C grade cities, five-star, often served as capitals of kings, centres of power and authority.
- B grade cities were six-star, ruled by emperors.
- A grade cities, seven-star, represented the pinnacle of wealth and influence.
- S grade cities, eight-star, were the most advanced—capital cities of empires, where the division between commoners and nobles was palpable, but wealth and power flowed freely.
As Vivek read through the second message on his phone, reality sank in. It was a reminder to pay his academic fees, a heavy weight in his modest budget. 700 Federal Coins—an amount that would drain nearly all of his allowance—was due this month. Education was his only way out of the slums, but every payment felt like another shackle binding him to his reality. His meagre allowance barely covered his basic needs—food, clothing, and the roof over his head. He knew that, after the payment, only 300 coins would remain to carry him through the rest of the month.
Despite the hopelessness surrounding him, Vivek persisted. His dreams of leaving Arinthal, of escaping the F-ranked shadow, were the only things keeping him afloat in a world that seemed determined to crush any sign of ambition.
The third message on Vivek's phone was unlike any he had seen before. It detailed an enigmatic object that had floated ominously in the sky for the past three hundred years. Roughly twice the size of the moon, its colossal form stretched over 134,750 kilometres in diameter, dwarfing the natural satellite of Earth. This celestial object, which had appeared out of nowhere centuries ago, was covered in intricate runic spells—millions of delicate, mystical engravings etched into its surface. Golden divine energy shimmered across it, drawing in mana from the environment.
And yet, there was something even stranger about it: its presence seemed elusive. If one did not actively focus on the object, it would be easy to miss. It had become a subtle part of the sky's background, visible only to those who gave it their attention.
For three centuries, scholars, magicians, and scientists had exhausted themselves trying to unravel its mystery. Tier 6 magicians—those capable of levelling C-grade cities with a single spell—and even the powerful Tier 8 magicians, whose spells could obliterate entire continents, had all attempted and failed to understand or affect the object. Its secrets remained beyond their reach.
But now, after three hundred years of silence, the object spoke:
---
{Protection period of realm, #RU527 has ended.}
{Beginning second phase: - Conqueror of Realm}
{To all mortals in this world: I have observed countless universes over eons. For reasons I cannot fully disclose, I am now commencing the second phase— "Conqueror of Realm" and the awakening process. In time, the purpose behind these events will be revealed to all of you.}
{The awakening process will begin at midnight. Expect sweeping changes across every aspect of your world. Those who reject these new rules and transformations will be eradicated without mercy. If you doubt the seriousness of this declaration, you may make a wish. If I find the time to review your request and deem it worthy, it may be granted. Yet, remember, there are no free gifts in this realm. Yours truly, "God: Controller of Everything."}
---
To be continued...