Modret appeared in a strange realm filled with multicolored stars that shimmered like scattered gemstones across a velvet sky. He gasped in surprise, his eyes wide as he tried to take in everything around him, dazed by the surreal environment.
Before him stood a towering figure that seemed to stretch across the entire space, its form shifting and pulsing with an otherworldly glow.
"What? What is that?" Modret muttered, watching in stunned disbelief as the enormous figure began to shrink. Its form condensed rapidly until it took on the appearance of a middle-aged man.
"Is that the being that killed me?" Modret wondered, staring at the man in frozen silence, his thoughts whirling with confusion.
The figure now resembled a man in his early forties. He had well-trimmed black beards, and a subtle look of amusement danced on his face as he stared calmly at Modret.
He wore flowing blue robes that shimmered faintly with starlight. They billowed gently, as though moved by a breeze that did not exist. The garments made him appear ethereal, like an immortal being from the heavens—divine and far removed from the mortal world, though clothed in a human form.
'Perhaps he truly is a deity, especially since he holds power over life and death,' Modret thought grimly. A strange wave of nausea swept over him just from standing in the god's presence, and his body trembled slightly as if rejecting the overwhelming aura.
"Do not gaze directly at a god," the man said, his voice calm and composed. It was low and resonant, echoing not just in the air but deep within Modret's mind. "If I were not suppressing my divine aura, you would have been reduced to ashes long ago."
Instinctively, Modret lowered his head. His pupils dilated with shock.
"A god?" he whispered, raising his head just enough to glimpse the being's chin, avoiding direct eye contact.
"Yes, I am a god. But you may call me Noctis," the man said with a faint smile.
Modret's mind reeled. Was he truly standing before a divine entity?
Yet as he recalled the sequence of events that had led him here, he could no longer deny it. It seemed all too real, and more importantly, this so-called god… needed something from him.
"You are correct, human. I need your help," Noctis said flatly, his expression unchanged. "But you are far too weak right now."
Modret felt his throat tighten. It made sense. He was just a mortal, after all—an ordinary human dragged into the affairs of gods.
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly before asking, "What would I be helping you with?"
Noctis fell silent for a few moments, as if contemplating his words. Then he finally spoke.
"The game you played previously—Celestial Descent—was a creation of my own. It was not just a game, but a simulation of the final war among the gods. The ending, as you know, was the death of all divine beings. Naturally, it is impossible to complete it because it reflects a reality where every god perishes… but…"
His voice faded into silence as he reached the final words.
Modret's eyes widened, and his heart pounded with disbelief.
To think the game he played merely to prove it was not unbeatable was actually designed by the gods themselves.
It was baffling.
"Come to think of it, the game always did feel too lifelike, too bizarre to be manmade," Modret reflected, his thoughts spinning rapidly.
Noctis could hear every thought, but chose not to interrupt. He remained quiet, waiting patiently for Modret's response.
"So… the help you need… is to save the gods?" Modret asked at last, after regaining his composure.
Noctis seemed as though he was about to answer, but then frowned slightly and fell into silence.
"Not necessarily. That is something we will discuss when you have gained enough strength."
Realizing the god was unwilling to elaborate further, Modret narrowed his eyes. Though his head remained bowed, a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Since you refuse to answer that, can I at least know what kind of danger the gods are facing?"
"You are quite an amusing human," Noctis said with a light chuckle. "But of course not. You are still mortal. Knowing divine secrets would only bring about your immediate and inevitable death."
Modret rolled his eyes. The mysteries were already starting to mount.
It seemed he would soon be thrust into battle against unknown enemies capable of killing gods.
"How thrilling," he muttered under his breath with a sigh.
"Can I know anything at all?" he asked again, his tone tinged with mild frustration.
"No," Noctis replied. "The reason I brought you here is to offer you an opportunity. Since you are going to assist me, it is only natural that I help you in return—before the time comes."
"Help me? In what way?" Modret asked. His voice carried a note of curiosity, echoing through the shimmering realm.
Noctis smiled again and gently waved his hand. Instantly, thousands of multicolored lights burst into existence, flooding the space with divine radiance.
"You may choose seven treasures from here. These are the treasures I accumulated during my lifetime of cultivation."
Modret's eyes widened once more. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart thudded heavily in his chest.
The endless clusters of glowing orbs lit up the space around him, their brilliance reflecting in his dark eyes like miniature suns.
He was awestruck by the sheer grandeur before him.
Treasures accumulated by a god through eons of cultivation? It was beyond comprehension.
But then, a shadow of doubt crept into his heart.
Could it really be this simple?
If these treasures could not save the gods, what could he possibly do with them? What good would they be in his hands?
His confidence wavered.
"What happens if I choose to reject your offer?" Modret asked, lifting his gaze slightly toward the god, then quickly lowering it again.
Noctis's eyes darkened, and a cold chill entered his voice.
"Like any other human, you would be reincarnated without memories of your previous life. However, there is a high chance that you would return as a pig or a worm."
Modret's lips twitched slightly.
That was definitely a threat. Subtle, but unmistakable.
"Damn it," he cursed internally. It seemed he had no real choice in the matter.
Besides…
'I have not enjoyed this life nearly enough. At the very least, I should experience the company of a beautiful woman before heading to the afterlife.'
He sighed, exasperated, then pointed toward one of the glowing lights hovering near him.
Noctis followed his gesture, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"So you have chosen your first treasure," he said. "Interesting. To think that your first pick would be the Cosmic Shadow System… how unfortunate."
Modret's lips twitched again. As if things could not get any worse.