The world was white. Blinding, endless, perfect.
Indra stood barefoot on smooth marble that stretched on forever, the floor reflecting him faintly as if it were made of water. Above, there was no sky, only a hazy brilliance that erased shadows. The air carried no scent, no warmth, no chill — it was emptiness painted in light.
And in the center of that endless whiteness sat a throne of shimmering gold, gleaming like sunlight hardened into form.
Archeron reclined upon it. His long black hair spilled down his shoulders, his brown skin glowing faintly under the light, his amber eyes sharp and burning. The throne amplified his presence — not just a man, but something more. Something ancient, watching, calculating.
Indra stood before him, his long black hair falling loose around his pale face, his blue eyes reflecting a cold patience that only came from a man who had lived far too many times. He knew this place—this endless existence—better than the back of his hand. He had been here one hundred times before. And yet, despite the familiarity, his chest tightened.
This was the last time. The final run. The hundred-and-first life. If he failed now… there would be no more resets. No more second chances. No more slipping back through the cracks of time.
The silence shattered. A deep voice, smooth and weighty like iron dipped in honey, rolled through the void.
"Indra."
"I am Archeron. A deity," the man said, his voice echoing as if it belonged to every shadow at once. "It is I who pulled you here. It is I who gave you form once again."
Indra didn't flinch. He knew this speech. He had heard it a hundred times. But still, he inclined his head with a trace of respect.
Behind Archeron stood a young woman, arms crossed tightly, her posture radiating defiance. She was striking—white hair that shimmered like snow under moonlight, golden eyes bright with sharpness, and skin the same earthy brown as her father's. Yet her expression was twisted in irritation, as if simply being here, near Indra, offended her.
Selene. Archeron's daughter.
Indra's eyes flicked toward her, only for a second, before he returned his attention to the so-called deity. Focus. Play your role. You've done this before. Do not reveal what you know.
Archeron's gaze sharpened, amused at the lack of awe on Indra's face.
"You are given a choice," he began, pacing slowly, each step heavy with a power that rippled through the void. "There are five demonic general weapons, and three angelic spirit weapons hidden across this realm. Retrieve them for me. Deliver them into my hands. And in return—"
His amber eyes burned.
"—I will grant you a single wish. Any wish."
Indra's lips tightened. Any wish, huh? You've told me that every time. But I know the truth. Fail, and you'll come for me yourself. Two years. That's the deadline. Always the same.
He folded his arms, letting the silence linger just long enough to seem thoughtful, not defiant. "…And if I don't succeed?"
Archeron's smile widened. "Then I shall kill you."
Selene rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Typical father."
Indra ignored her. Inside, his thoughts were already racing. You never noticed, Archeron. Not once. Even a deity like you couldn't sense the time wheel turning. You never knew I've gone back, again and again. But the wheel has limits… and I've already broken them. This is it. No more retries. No more loops. My hundred-and-first life. My final gamble.
"…I accept," Indra said, his voice calm but steady.
Archeron's amber eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Good. Then you must understand the world you enter. All life is bound by a system of power. Each existence is born with a Cosmic Tree."
He lifted a hand, and in the air between them, a phantom tree appeared, shimmering. Its roots plunged deep into invisible soil, its branches sprawling upward.
"The roots hold your "Original Abilities"," Archeron explained, his voice smooth, like a teacher speaking to a favored pupil. "The branches grow from these roots—derivatives, manifestations, evolutions. That is the structure of power. The structure of your destiny."
Indra nodded, masking his recognition. I know there's more to it than that. More layers, more secrets hidden beneath the soil. But I won't reveal what I know. Not yet.
Archeron let the tree fade and gestured toward him. "Before you begin, there are choices to make. The first—your kingdom. There are three: Fasl, Saibai, and Anima. Choose where you will be reborn. Each kingdom grants its children a specific root. Choose wisely."
Indra's mind whirred. I've tried them all. Saibai, Anima… failures. The Fasl Kingdom always offered the most potential. The most versatility.
"Fasl," he said simply.
Archeron tilted his head, intrigued. "The Fasl Kingdom… very well. Their roots are diverse. Unique. Perhaps fitting for you."
Selene made a face. "He doesn't look like he belongs in Fasl…"
Ignoring her, Archeron continued. "Then your second decision, you will choose a path. There are five: Holy, Darkness, Silhouette, Puppeteer, and Elementalist. Consider carefully. Your path shapes how you wield your root."
Indra gave a small smile. The paths are nothing but distractions later on. But Puppeteer… that one focuses on control. Threads, manipulation. A thinking man's path. Better than brute strength.
"I'll take Puppeteer," he said.
Selene raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Creepy."
Archeron's smile widened. "Interesting choice."
The void shivered, and before Indra, five glowing orbs appeared, each pulsing with faint power.
"Now… abilities," Archeron said. "In Fasl, one gains abilities beyond their path. You may choose: five rank-one abilities, three rank-two abilities, two rank-three abilities, or one rank-four ability. These are yours alone. Choose carefully."
Indra's chest tightened. He doesn't say it—but I know. Only five abilities. Ever. Once chosen, they are locked forever. A mistake here ruins everything. I've tried many routes. Only one path proved viable.
He lifted his chin. "Three rank-two abilities."
Archeron's brows arched, then he nodded. "Name them."
Indra closed his eyes briefly. The same ones I've chosen before. The safest foundation.
"Increased Luck. Slime Body. String Control."
Selene's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Gross. A body like slime?"
Indra's lips curved faintly. "You'll see its value."
Archeron chuckled, pleased by his decisiveness. "Very well. And lastly… you may bring one item into this world with you. Choose."
Indra hesitated only for a moment. Then his gaze slid toward Selene. Her golden eyes widened.
"…Her."
"What?!" Selene's voice cracked, horrified. "No! Absolutely not! Father—"
Archeron's laughter rolled through the void like thunder. "So that is your wish? My daughter, Selene, as your companion?"
"I didn't say companion," Indra corrected, his blue eyes cool. "I said I want her."
Selene turned on him, furious. "You arrogant—!"
Archeron raised a hand, silencing her protests. "So be it. But there will be conditions. She will not obey you unless she wills it. You may not harm her. And she will remain with you until you die, complete your mission, or release her. This is the deal."
His amber eyes gleamed as he bit into his thumb, crimson blood welling. He extended his hand to Indra. "Sealed in blood."
Indra stepped forward without hesitation, drawing his own blood and pressing it to Archeron's. Power burned through the void, binding the contract. Selene's eyes widened in shock—and outrage.
"You… you can't be serious! Father, you can't just—"
"Enough," Archeron said, his tone amused but final. "Go with him, Selene. Amuse me. Intrigue me. Let us see what becomes of this gamble."
The void shuddered. Light flared. The world bent—
And then, suddenly, they were standing beneath a crimson sky, the air thick with the scent of earth and smoke. The Fasl Kingdom stretched before them, jagged mountains in the distance, forests thick and alive with unseen creatures.
Selene yanked her arm from Indra's, her golden eyes burning with fury. "Listen carefully. Don't touch me. Don't come near me. And don't think for a second that I'll help you."
Indra looked at her, calm, unreadable. Then he smiled faintly. "I only need one thing from you."
Selene scowled. "…What?"
"A place to sleep tonight."
Her jaw dropped. "…You've got to be kidding me."
But Indra's smile didn't fade. The board is set. The game begins. And this time… I will win.