Aarav looked down at the book floating in front of him, its black and white cover etched with thin red lines, glowing faintly like a heartbeat.
He muttered to himself, "A new story begins."
[Writing a new story...]
Aarav focused, speaking slowly.
"The story is… like a betrayal. A husband betrayed by the one he trusted the most. A man who broke… completely."
[Compiling...]
Time passed strangely in the soul world. There were no stars, no sun, no way to measure the passing of hours. Only the endless black desert and tall white trees stood still as time itself.
After what felt like hours, the book floated up again.
[Do you want to continue the story?][Do you want to pause the story?]
Aarav narrowed his eyes and said, "Pause for now."
[You have created a story of a broken husband. A man who died trying to protect a girl from being raped. Though he failed to save her, his courage made him something greater. A man.][Men are brave after all.]
[You have gained 2 Traits:]
◉ Cold-HeartedEven if your heart turns colder than a glacier, even if your mind is always in full control, you can still smile like a true man. That smile—terrifying to enemies, comforting to allies—becomes your sharpest weapon.
◉ FemistaYou are no longer one half. You are now a complete self. Females will be drawn to your character and charm beyond logic. Whatever you do, your presence hypnotizes women—making your existence both magnetic and unforgettable.
Aarav blinked. "What… are these? Traits? What exactly is a trait?"
The book flipped a page without his command.
[Traits are the soul's manifestation of your characteristics. They define your uniqueness and potential within the Soul World.]
Aarav stared at the glowing words.
"So… these are parts of me now?"
The book shimmered but offered no answer this time.
Time drifted. Aarav began to wander.With every step, a strange sensation grew within him—a deep, gnawing hunger.
"What… am I feeling? I just died. Why would I feel hungry?"
But the emptiness in his stomach deepened. His throat was dry like cracked stone. It wasn't a spiritual emptiness. It was real.
He walked for what felt like days across the endless black sand, beneath an ever-still sky. No sun. No moon. No change.
Nothing but the white trees in the distance, forever out of reach.
Still, he searched.Still, he hoped.For food.For water.
For something that would say: You exist. You are alive.
Eventually, his legs gave out.
He collapsed into the sand, his voice cracking into a whisper.
"Give me water... food... anything…"
The book hovered silently above him, pages still glowing faintly. But it made no move. No offer.
Just silence
*
*
When Aarav opened his eyes, he felt a strange tug against his limbs.
He tried to move but couldn't.
His wrists and ankles were bound with dry ropes, tied tightly to long wooden poles planted deep into cracked, sandy soil. The air smelled musty, like old bones and dried flesh.
Around him were people—perhaps ten, maybe more—sitting or lying down, weak, shriveled, yet very much alive.
For a moment, he panicked.
But oddly, the panic dissolved in seconds. No fear came. Instead, a slow, calm smile crept across his face.
The moment his lips curved into that cold smile, the strangers around him backed away. Even in their pitiful states—hollow cheeks, bloodshot eyes—they recoiled as if they had seen a predator. A monster. Or something worse.
They left enough space for him to slowly sit up.
Aarav looked at them curiously. "Who are you guys?"
They looked at each other hesitantly. One of them—a tall, skeletal man with a worn-out robe hanging like rags—stepped forward and knelt before him. He opened his robe slightly to reveal a hollow chest, the skin clinging to his ribs like paper on steel.
The man's voice was dry, cracked like desert earth. "We are like you. Hungry souls. We've been here… more than 10,000 years. Hungry. Thirsty. But unable to die."
Aarav narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying? I thought if someone fails to merge with a soul within 24 hours, they die."
The man nodded slowly. "That's true… but death doesn't come automatically. If you fail to merge, you don't just disappear. You're teleported here—to this cursed village."
Aarav's eyes sharpened. "Why here? What is this place?"
The man hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he gestured to the cracked earth beneath them.
"This village is... not real. Not in the way we understand. It was created as a breeding ground. For a Soul Spider."
Aarav frowned. "Soul Spider?"
The man's voice turned bitter. "Yes. A monstrous being. The soul spider doesn't kill to feed. It mates with souls... and then devours them after. This whole place is a prison, a livestock farm."
He paused, then added in a grim whisper, "And we're the cattle."
Aarav blinked. "You're telling me… all of you have been stuck here for thousands of years… just waiting to be… mated with? Then eaten?"
The man gave a dry, choking laugh. "Yes. That's the cruel joke of this world. Souls that fail to merge are sent here as breeding stock for the Soul Spider Queen. And according to the old timers, she comes only once in 10,000 years."
Aarav tilted his head. "And let me guess... that day is today."
The man didn't speak. He simply nodded. Slowly. Regretfully.
Aarav leaned back against the pole, looking up at the gray sky, then smiled again.
"Well... sounds like things are about to get interesting."
Aarav sat quietly, still bound, surrounded by the lost souls of the village. The man's warning about the spider queen still echoed in his mind like a whispering curse. We are the livestock. She eats her mate. The air was thick, the silence oppressive.
Then—like a gust of perfume and wind—a strange phenomenon occurred.
Without a sound or warning, they arrived.
A group of women, otherworldly in their beauty, shimmered into the space like illusions stepping out of a dream. Their figures glowed faintly with an unnatural light. Skin like polished moonlight, eyes that shimmered with strange hunger, and dresses that barely clung to their bodies. Each of them carried a sensual grace that made even the air tremble with tension.
Some of the other trapped souls gasped and wept in confusion or awe. One man fell to his knees, whispering blessings or curses.
Aarav, however, only blinked.
Fear should have choked him, but it didn't. Instead, for some unknown reason, he smiled. Calm, almost playful.
The women took a step back, stunned by that smile.
It wasn't charm they expected. It was fear. Desperation. Panic.
But Aarav radiated none of that.
Then, like parting shadows before the sun, a single presence made the others vanish from his focus.
She appeared.
Tall, graceful, and overwhelmingly divine.
Her skin was the color of polished obsidian laced with silver cracks. Her long hair fell like rivers of silk, tipped with white. Eyes like galaxies. Her body was mature, powerful, and seductive without trying. Everything about her oozed danger and elegance.
Her aura bent the world.
She didn't walk toward him—she glided, with an effortless air of superiority.
She stood before Aarav, tilting his face up with one sharp, clawed finger. Her lips curled into a dangerous, teasing smile.
"Hey, handsome," she purred.
Aarav's smile didn't waver. His eyes, however, trembled slightly. Fear crept in his chest like cold vines, but his body refused to show it. Instead, he whispered, "Hello, Queen."
For a moment, her eyes widened ever so slightly. His smile had touched something deep inside her.
Without another word, she grabbed his face and pulled him close. A pulse of dark energy enveloped them both—
—Teleportation.
The room they landed in was unlike anything Aarav had ever seen.
A bedroom that looked carved from moonlight and nightmares. The ceiling arched like a web spun from crystal. The bed at its center was massive, made from bones polished to ivory, layered in velvet and petals of obsidian roses.
Aarav took a breath.
The Queen turned, watching him with a mischievous gaze as she slowly stepped toward the bed. Her voice was smooth, like silk gliding over skin.
"I am the Queen of Soul Spiders," she said. "And I must confess... I like you. Your attitude. That smile. The way you didn't tremble. That amused calm. You made my heart... skip."
She turned toward him, lowering herself on the edge of the bed.
"So," she said, crossing one leg over the other. "Will you marry me? Or simply be my mate?"
Aarav blinked. "That's quite a choice."
The Queen grinned, leaning forward. "Yes. Choose wisely. If you say no to both, I will still take what I want. Mate with you. Drain your soul. Beat you if needed. Our custom requires nourishment for the next generation."
"And if I say yes to the first option?" Aarav asked, his lips twitching with a smirk.
"You will have me," she said, standing. "Not as a queen ruling over livestock. But as a partner. A king."
The tension thickened. Her power was real. Her lust was real. But her words... held truth.
"Now," she said, stepping close again, pressing a finger to his chest. "Choose. Fast. My instincts don't wait forever."
Aarav met her eyes, sharp and clear. His heart pounded like a drum. Yet still, he smiled.
"Fine then," he whispered.
"I choose the first option."
The Queen stilled.
Then she laughed.
Not cruelly—but softly. Joyfully. Almost shyly.
"So bold," she said, circling him. "You just sealed your fate, Aarav. Now let's see... if you can handle being mine."
The petals on the bed stirred as her aura grew warm.
And the game truly began.