2: Vastarael Richinaria.

In his years of existence, Veneri knew very little about Primordials. His time in the sterile, steel-lined halls of a facility, where his immortality was pried apart for answers, ensured that.

The scientists who experimented on him never really bothered to explain much beyond their barking orders, and he'd long since stopped caring about anything beyond survival. What little he knew came from overheard conversations.

Primordials were beings no one could see.

Why?

No one knew. Maybe they were bored cosmic deities on a power trip. Maybe it was their job, like celestial accountants tallying up universal debts. Either way, they weren't in the business of explaining themselves to mortals... or immortals like him.

Their most famous activity? Picking individuals to serve as their champions, their Vessels. These poor souls were like pawns on the cosmic chessboard, sent to keep everything from spiraling into chaos. On Earth, there had only been one Vessel in recorded history.

Greshina Emberforge.

And Greshina wasn't just an average divine champion. She was the most powerful being on the planet, easily eclipsing the dead pantheons combined. But unlike the cliché 'chosen hero' trope, Greshina didn't save the world. She didn't even rule it in the traditional sense.

No, she dominated it.

For years, she turned Earth into a dystopian nightmare. Cities became sprawling fortresses, laws were rewritten into a tangled mess of 'do it my way or suffer.' The air stank of fear, rebellion was a fool's errand, and hope?

That was extinct.

If dictators were tyrants, then Greshina was a tyrant's tyrant.

But she wasn't entirely heartless.

Amid her iron-fisted reign, she befriended the boy now standing before Time. Back then, he was just an unremarkable lab rat, an immortal experiment who couldn't even die right. And yet, she saw something in him. Loyalty? Kindred loneliness? Who knew?

For reasons beyond his comprehension, she genuinely cared about him, and that's why, when Greshina finally met her end, a small part of him mourned.

But he didn't remember how he did it.

Now, standing in a serene, impossibly white void, facing the literal embodiment of Time herself, he couldn't help but think back to those days.

He had once idolized Greshina, even developed a childish crush on her. She was the first person who treated him like more than a disposable child. But she was gone, Earth was gone, and now... so was the universe.

And somehow, he was the last surviving remnant of it all.

"Why me?" He asked, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them. His voice trembled.

Time sipped her tea and regarded him with a serene smile.

"I... I don't get it," he continued, pacing on the invisible floor of water beneath them. His reflection rippled with every step, but it never quite matched his movements.

"I was left in an orphanage as an infant. Grew up watching kids come and go while I was never adopted. I was sponsored to go to a private school, then the Convergence happened, and every orphan I knew was killed in the chaos. I was captured, tortured, and experimented on for years like some kind of lab rat. And now I'm dead. Gone. The end."

Time said nothing, letting him vent. Her silence only made him more frustrated.

"So why me? Why pick me of all people? Surely there are better candidates out there. Hell, why not one of those other supernaturals you mentioned?"

Time set her teacup down, the porcelain clinking softly.

"You do realize you're not the only one I've chosen, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Seven before me, right? Still, there has to be a reason why you're offering me this 'deal.' What makes me so special?"

Time leaned back, her expression softening as she prepared to explain.

"Do you know how souls work in the universe?"

He blinked. "Uh, no?"

"40% of all souls are reincarnated. When a being dies, their memories are wiped clean and their soul is placed in a new body. Sometimes in the same world, sometimes in another. Through this process, they experience the Nine Phases of Existence: Destiny, Fate, Life, Death, Time, Space, Creation, and Destruction."

"That's... eight."

"I skipped the first phase," she said with a sly smile. "Existence itself."

He groaned. "Great, cosmic math. This keeps getting better."

Ignoring his sarcasm, she continued.

"Your death was... unique. Out of all the deaths I've witnessed today, and trust me, there were a lot, yours stood out."

"How? I died like a stray dog on garbage day."

"Exactly," she said, her eyes sparkling. "You embodied the two sentiments of death. Acceptance and regret."

Her words hung in the air, cutting through his cynicism. He didn't interrupt, curious despite himself.

"Acceptance, because you finally realized, in your final moments, that you were nothing to your world. An orphan, an experiment, a mongrel. And yet, even in the face of all that, you still held onto regret. Simple, human regret of wishing you had a better life."

He was silent for a while before he spoke.

"Fine. Let's say I buy this whole 'special snowflake' speech. What happens if I accept? What's waiting for me in this new life? More suffering?"

Time tilted her head, her smile turning mischievous.

"Quite the opposite."

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hmm. If you accept, you'll reincarnate as Vastarael Richinaria, heir to a royal dynasty in a world called Spheraphase. He's got everything. A loving family, immense power, divine blessings, and—"

"Wait," he interrupted. "You're telling me I get to be a prince? With a family? Like, actual people who care about me?"

"Yes," she replied, bemused by his disbelief. "And a rather good-looking one at that. Seriously, you can even have a harem if you want to. He is seriously handsome that even gods want him."

"..."

"Well?"

He was silent, his mind racing. A new life. A family. Power. A chance to live freely, to be something more than a lab rat. It sounded too good to be true.

"What's the catch?" He asked suspiciously.

She chuckled. "Smart boy. The catch is that Vastarael has a fate. A very specific one."

"Let me guess," he said dryly. "It involves a lot of pain, suffering, and eventual death."

"Correct," she replied cheerfully. "No matter what you do, Vastarael is fated to die in the arms of the one he loves. Everyone before you has tried to avoid it, and every single one has failed."

He let out a long, frustrated groan. He always knew that nothing was going his way. Even the universe cursed his reincarnation.

"Of course. Why wouldn't there be a fatal plot twist? It's practically a rule at this point."

"So," Time said, leaning forward with a teasing grin. "What'll it be? Care to try your luck?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. What choice did he have? The universe was gone. He was practically the last mortal left in existence. And if he refused, then she would just... end the universe. He was sure that she would definitely survive but he wouldn't.

He wanted to die. He always wanted to die.

But part of him wanted to live. To survive. To endure. And why would he reject it?

"You know what? Fine. I'm in. But not because I care about saving your precious universe. I just... I just want to live. For once."

Time smiled, reaching for a cookie. "Good answer. Welcome to your new life, Vastarael Richinaria. Have some cake and cookies. We have a lot to talk about."