Fate(III)—Luck, Luck, Luck

'Death.'

Caine found himself standing in an endless expanse of outstretched ethereal glowing golden waters. Above, in the skies, countless majestic eyes of gold, amethyst, and purple gazed down upon him—divine and otherworldly.

The place felt strangely familiar, as though he had returned to his mother's womb. Its warmth was almost nostalgic.

But Caine didn't seem to react much to this.

'I have died.'

He looked around and found himself utterly alone.

PAH!

Caine sat down on the waters beneath him, his expression empty, his gaze locked on the endlessly stretching horizon beyond.

There was no trick.

No complex plan. No grand heretical idea. No sealed and hidden power. No sudden awakening or enlightenment—there was nothing.

No one was there but him.

Nothing would save him. He had died, truly and simply because he was too weak, because he wasn't worthy.

The realization sank into Caine without resistance.