Prologue: Shot To Death (Improved)

Inside a grand hemispherical building, a man in his late 20s was engrossed in typing on a floating keypad, his gaze fixed on the hologram hovering before him.

"What in the void? Devil's Playground is going on moratorium?" He shouted in disbelief, his voice echoing through the room, drawing the attention of his coworkers.

"Why the outburst, Kiaus? That announcement was made yesterday," a younger colleague remarked, clearly amused by his reaction.

"Anyway, our shifts are almost over. Let's head to the nearby hedobar. The company will be closed for a few days," the younger one added, his expression betraying a slight trace of melancholy.

The two colleagues exited, quickporting to the building's exit. Both worked as graphic designers for Goman Games World Limited, creators of Devil's Playground, one of the most popular games of the 22nd century.

As they left the building, the streets were teeming with various establishments, each vying for attention using unique techniques. A particularly bold advertisement caught their eye: a group of elegant women, draped in flamboyant and daring outfits, posed provocatively.

"They really need to tone these ads down; kids walk through here," the younger one remarked as they passed the building.

"No they don't, Reuman. This is a protected adult zone—" Kiaus began, but his words faltered as his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold. A masked man, holding an eccentric handgun, had it aimed straight at his head, his hand poised on the activation button.

Kiaus dropped to the ground in a flash.

For a moment, he thought he had evaded danger, but a sudden, sharp pain radiated from his skull. Gasps and shouts of horror rang out as passersby panicked. Alarms blared, and Defbots* rose from the streetlights. One of them darted toward the shooter, launching three cubes from its hands, immobilizing the assailant.

Kiaus was sprawled on the pavement, blood pouring from his wound. The pain was so unbearable, he thought death would be a kinder escape. His coworker knelt beside him, desperately trying to keep him conscious while waiting for the emergency response teams to arrive.

Kiaus' vision dimmed, his eyes closing more with each passing second. The distant sounds of commotion faded, swallowed by darkness, as his consciousness slipped away.

•••••

Time seemed to stretch into eternity, and when Kiaus finally regained awareness, his eyes opened sluggishly. He took in his surroundings—an intricately decorated medieval room, its grandeur illuminated by a massive chandelier radiating soft, bluish light.

"Is this heaven? It feels... vintage," he muttered, surprised by the oddness of his own voice, which now sounded weaker and more feminine.

"Wake up, your highness," a voice as sweet as honey echoed from outside the room.

His heart raced. "Highness? I must have done something truly extraordinary to become royalty in the afterlife. I knew it." He smiled to himself, shamelessly proud.

Before he could dwell further on his musings, the door opened. A young girl with lustrous brown hair stepped into the room.

"Your highness, the royal court is about to begin. Your father, His Majesty, has summoned you to attend," she said respectfully, though a hint of concern flickered in her eyes.

"Certainly. But before that, could you fetch me an atlas of the region?" Kiaus asked, his voice as regal as he could manage.

"As you wish, your highness," the maid replied, baffled by his politeness, and left the room.

"This isn't heaven; I've been reincarnated," Kiaus whispered to himself as he assessed his new body. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked to a nearby mirror.

He gazed at his reflection—a strikingly androgynous young man with long, dark hair and vivid red eyes. His skin appeared flawless, glowing softly in the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Sheesh! I look like those synthetic models," Kiaus murmured in awe, unable to resist a moment of vanity. Indeed, he was a bit of a narcissist.

After a life he'd considered the most dreadful on Earth—and even on Mars, for that matter—the idea of reincarnation brought a strange thrill. The dread of death was swiftly overshadowed by the excitement of a new, adventurous life as a prince.

"Here's the atlas you requested, your highness," the maid returned, handing him the book.

Their hands brushed as she passed it to him, causing her face to flush red. She had been working as his maid for years, growing emotionally attached to him, but never daring to act on those feelings.

Kiaus noticed her blush and thought, I am too charming, aren't I? with a self-satisfied grin. He dismissed her with a gesture, and she left, leaving him to examine the atlas.

As his fingers turned the pages, something made him stop cold.

"Aerthys Kingdom? Isn't that a kingdom in Devil's Playground?" The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. "No wonder the style felt so familiar!" he muttered, piecing the puzzle together.

His heart sank. Devil's Playground was infamous for its sadistic difficulty, and as a graphic designer who'd worked on it, Kiaus knew it well. This realization was not a pleasant one.

A sudden thought crossed his mind. The maid had mentioned that the court would begin soon. While his current attire was undoubtedly grand, he decided he should wear something more formal.

•••••

The grand hall of the palace glittered with crystals that cast soft blue light across the room, accentuating its ornate decor. The nobles present—equally adorned in lavish finery—watched as Kiaus walked through the room, drawing the attention of every seated individual. Some gazed at him with a strange sense of apprehension, while others looked at him with outright hostility. This left him thoroughly confused.

"As far as I know, there's no political intrigue brewing in Aerthys, at least none involving me," he thought, puzzled.

His thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched voice. "Prince Arin, you're quite late."

He looked over to see a young man, slightly older than him, who spoke in an affectionate tone, though his expression betrayed something else.

"It takes time to dress appropriately, royal brother," Kiaus replied, his voice dripping with mockery as he eyed the prince's attire.

The boy was the crown prince of Aerthys—the same character Kiaus had helped design.

"Let's see how long your arrogance lasts after the court ends," the crown prince sneered in a low voice.

Before Kiaus could respond, the announcement of the king and queen's arrival echoed through the hall. All the nobles stood, bowing their heads in unison.

The royal couple entered, flanked by advisors and dignitaries. The nobles, their heads lowered, recited in perfect harmony, "Your Majesties and your advisors, your union blesses us all. We stand in your service."

The royal pair took their seats, and the king's deep, resonant voice filled the hall. "Let the affairs of the realm be heard. Court is now in session."

A burly man stood from his seat, his imposing frame radiating authority.

"Your Majesty, as the realm is aware, the luminous sage Nicolas of the holy church has arrived in our kingdom. His discovery has forced him to appear before the court today. The rest, he will announce himself."

The figure of the sage entered, garbed in a white robe, a violet gem held tightly in his hands. His shrill voice rang out across the room.

"O righteous King Raphael, this lowly servant of the almighty lord is here to deliver a most significant message. The gem in my hand is the nexus of augury, the prized possession of the lord's servant." As the sage spoke, an uneasy tension spread among the court.

The sage raised the gem, chanting in an ancient tongue. It shimmered with iridescent light, revealing an astral projection—an ominous syzygy.

"These are the positions of the prime stars at the time of Prince Arin's birth. They form the figure of a taurus, an omen seen only once in a century. The implications are clear: a person born under this alignment is fated to bring destruction wherever they go."

The court reacted with shock, some stunned into silence.

The king, his expression unreadable, responded, "Is this information accurate?"

"I understand your grief, Your Majesty, but for the protection of the people, you must set aside your love for your child and consider the welfare of your kingdom," the sage replied, his tone unyielding. "It is heart-wrenching, but the fate is inevitable. Your son is the harbinger of doom."

Kiaus stood frozen in disbelief. This wasn't in the script! What is going on?

Suddenly, the queen spoke, her voice cold and resolute.

"O luminous sage of the holy church, we hear your words. Our love for our child is boundless, but the fate of the kingdom takes precedence. With a heavy heart, I announce that Prince Arin will be sent to the Forest of Rokaal, never to return."

The court gasped. The Forest of Rokaal was notorious for its dangers. Even seasoned adventurers hesitated to venture into its depths, let alone a prince with no combat skills or magical ability.

Damn! This witch is really scheming, Kiaus thought. As a graphic designer who had spent countless hours playing Devil's Playground, he recognized the queen's treacherous nature.

The queen's brother, feigning sorrow, added, "It's truly tragic that the prince we once adored is now destined for such a fate. I pray the kingdom recovers from his loss."

Like sister, like brother. What do you mean 'loss'? I'm not dead, you assholes! Kiaus thought bitterly.

A smug grin spread across his face. "This prince humbly interrupts the court. I will honor her majesty's decision, but my care for the kingdom goes beyond that. If I am indeed the harbinger of doom, I fear my belongings and servants may also be cursed. I will personally evacuate them from the kingdom."

Kiaus had always planned to leave, but this offer served him even better. Once he reached the Forest of Rokaal, treasures and opportunities awaited. But not without dangers.

The queen, unable to counter his argument, reluctantly agreed. Two carriages, five laborers, and three servants would accompany Prince Arin—Kiaus—on his journey.

•••••

The carriages rolled along a winding path through the peaceful countryside. The soft hum of the zephyrs mingled with Kiaus' steady breaths, the scent of mystical grasses filling the air.

Prince Arin—or Kiaus—gazed out of the carriage window, taking in the view. Some of this landscape had been his creation, after all—the landscapes of Devil's Playground, beloved by 22nd-century players.

"Tomorrow begins the odyssey of Prince Arin, ascending to the heights of this plane," Kiaus thought to himself, a new adventure had begun.

*****

Defbots are automatons created for the citizens' immediate wellbeing in the 22nd century.