A young man with white hair stepped into the abandoned throne room of a cursed god. The air was thick with dust and silence, heavy with something ancient. The moment his foot touched the cold stone floor, a ripple passed through the chamber—then, one by one, the candles perched on the broken pillars sputtered to life. Their flames cast long shadows across the crumbling walls. The room, forgotten by time, woke up.
A beam of light streamed in from the roof. Which should have been impossible... the only thing that was supposed to be above was kilometers of rock.
He limped forward, using his katana as a crutch. Each step was labored. Blood stained the trail behind him. Yet he pushed on... towards the lonely throne that stood at the center.
He noticed that there was something written in the cryptic language of Mytherra behind the throne.
"All h-hail...."
Alger tried to translate the last word, but he couldn't. Up until now, every word he has encountered during his time in Mythera meant something, like it had originated from somewhere... apart from what was written on the wall.
"All hail God Noir"
Alger wanted to analyze the runes more... but he didn't have time.
He was going to die...
His arm was gone. A jagged bone pierced through the flesh of his leg, one of his eyes was missing, and there were multiple holes in his body...
He had lost far too much blood; any sane human would have given up by now... but he didn't. The throne was calling out to him...
Hope...
He stood there, in front of the stone throne. Noticing the weird symbol that was etched into the seat.
The picture of a wheel with the sun in the center of it...
Alger could sense death coming; nobody was coming to save him... he was about to die, before turning 17.
Damn it! hahaha! Damn it all! Curse the celestials... why give me another chance if you are going to kill me again? Damn it damn it damn it...
He sat down on the forsaken throne of the Ominous god....
His thoughts, slowly fading away...
But the moment Alger sat down, something strange happened. A mysterious translucent screen appeared in front of him...
[Welcome back Noi-No-N..]
[Welcome, Alger]
have I started to hallucinate....
[Do you wish to strengthen your Soul?]
[Yes/No]
Time until death : 3 seconds
Time until death : 2 seconds
Time until death : 1 second...
Alger was barely able to stay conscious, but he knew... he knew he wanted to live.
".....yes"
[Congratulations! You have become a Soul—]
Before Alger could fully read the sentence, he died.
His life started to flash in front of his eyes....
***
'Damn it, why am I back here....'
his voice echoed endlessly, slowly fading away.
***
It was a bright winter morning, the first time the sun had broken through the clouds in weeks. Birds chirped with enthusiasm, the kind that made you want to brew a strong black coffee and sit out on the balcony to soak in the warmth.
But Alger didn't have a balcony.
He lay asleep in the corner of his modest room, curled up in the bed which was right beneath the only window in his apartment. The sunlight spilled from the window, gently illuminating the dark, cozy space. Alger blinked slowly, adjusting to the unexpected brightness.
"Why are the birds so loud?" he mumbled.
He quickly rolled to his side and grabbed his old watch from the small table beside his bed. The leather strap was worn and cracked, but it still worked. One glance, and his heart nearly stopped.
7:40 AM
Panic surged through him. He was supposed to be at work by 7:00.
Alger worked an unusual shift; he was the guy who got there early to open up and set things in motion. Now, he was well over an hour late.
He leapt out of bed, removing his comfortable sleepwear and grabbing the clothes that were kept folded on the table across from him. As he rushed into the apartment's only bathroom, he was already half-dressed.
The bathroom mirror, mounted too low for his 185 cm frame, greeted him with the reflection of a skinny young man with long black hair and matching black eyes. He didn't look bad, just... tired. He bent slightly to get a better view, quickly splashing water on his face, brushing his teeth, and brushing a comb through his hair.
He grabbed his black office bag, slung it over his shoulder, and passed through the cramped living room that was barely larger than his bedroom. Alger ran towards the kitchen, which was more functional than comfortable. Alger searched for something to eat, but he found nothing edible, so he gave up and left.
The train ride alone would take at least thirty minutes. Alger was in deep trouble.
***
After the ride, Alger checked his watch again.
8:22 AM
"Shit... I have to get there before Mark."
Mark, his boss, was as punctual as a ticking bomb, and just as unforgiving. Last time Alger had been late, it nearly cost him his job. Mark usually arrived by 8:30.
Alger broke into a sprint.
His workplace wasn't in a towering skyscraper, but a squat fifteen-story building wedged between taller giants. He pushed through the glass door, panting.
To his right stood John, a chubby security guard with a mostly black beard streaked with white. He was the only person in the building Alger considered even remotely friendly.
John looked genuinely surprised.
"Alger? What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean? I'm here to work," Alger said, confused.
John scratched his head and chuckled. "Ah, man... you really don't know what day it is, huh?"
Alger froze. He glanced back down at his watch.
15/11/2024Saturday
"You've got to be kidding me."
His stomach dropped. He'd just gone through the morning sprint of his life... for nothing.
"Thanks, John. I'd probably have gone all the way in and not realized for hours."
"Next time," John said, laughing, "check the date when you wake up."
***
After another 30 minutes, Alger was back home. He unlocked the door, changed into his earlier clothes, and collapsed onto the couch.
He switched on his small TV and put on the weekend show he never missed.
Alger was an average middle-class citizen. He wasn't living his dream life, but he wasn't living as well; he was surviving. He had a roof above his head and food on the table. And that's all he wanted to ask for.
He had a lot of dreams growing up, but as he slowly grew, he saw them slowly fade away....
Since his parents passed away in a tragic accident when he was fourteen, Alger had lived alone. His mom had taught him some basic cooking, and he'd taught himself the rest.
Today, though, he settled for instant ramen.
Friends... He used to have plenty in high school. But they'd all drifted away. Alger never had a girlfriend either. He didn't mind solitude; to him, it meant peace; depending on others only made him seem more vulnerable.
Although on first glance, one might think he is depressed. He isn't... he is just, a little empty.
After finishing his meal, he set the bowl aside and went towards his table. His table wasn't the cleanest. Clothes, food, and other random things were scattered on it.
He cleaned the table, which to him just meant putting everything on the bed. He removed his laptop from his bag and placed it on the table.
He opened his laptop. The deadline for his project was approaching fast, and Mark didn't tolerate tardiness.
Alger worked for four straight hours before fatigue hit him like a wave. He collected all of the things he had thrown on the bed and put them on the table again.
He collapsed onto his bed and passed out.
***
When he woke, the sky was beginning to dim.
He stood up, stretched, and muttered to himself... a habit he'd picked up living alone.
"I guess I'll go out and buy some rice for dinner...."
He slowly walked towards his bathroom, splashed water on his face, and went to search for his wallet in his bag. Although Alger had no success in finding it...
"Damn you, wallet!"
He finally found it tucked inside the pants he wore to his workplace.
"Ah-ha! There you are."
Just as he was about to leave, a strange light illuminated his bedroom. He looked up through the window above his bed and saw something… odd.
A green star.....