Arin sat in silence for a while after the last echoes of grief had faded, his breathing finally steady again as the weight in his chest loosened just enough to think clearly. He wiped the remnants of tears from his face and leaned back into the leather chair, staring at the blank screen that had just shown him the farewell of countless generations. The stillness of the grey room pressed in on him again, sterile and empty, as if nothing had happened at all. After everything he had just witnessed, the quiet felt almost insulting. "So," he said at last, his voice steadier than he expected, "what happens now?" He looked at the screen as if it were a person, because by now, it might as well have been.
The system responded without delay, its voice as detached and even as ever, devoid of any emotion despite the gravity of what had just occurred. "You must wait," it said simply, the words echoing faintly through the room. "All human bodies and souls must complete the resurrection process before the next stage can begin." Arin frowned slightly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, already sensing where this was going. "Once that is complete," the system continued, "you will be shown a comprehensive overview of humanity's performance during the trial, including point calculations, multipliers, and rankings." It paused briefly, as if allowing the information to settle, before adding, "The estimated waiting period is one month."
Arin blinked, then leaned back again with a groan, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. "A month?" he repeated, incredulous, glancing around the barren room as if it might somehow become more interesting if he looked at it long enough. "This place doesn't exactly scream 'comfortable long-term stay.'" He let out a long sigh, then tilted his head slightly, a spark of curiosity cutting through his irritation. "Wait," he said, straightening up a bit, "you mentioned I'm in some kind of soul space, right?" The system confirmed this without elaboration, and Arin's expression shifted as realization dawned. "So time's different here?" he asked, already suspecting the answer.
"That is correct," the system replied. "Time within your soul space is significantly accelerated relative to external reality." Arin nodded slowly, processing that, then gave a small, crooked smile. "Well, that's something at least," he muttered. A thought struck him almost immediately after, and his eyes lit up with renewed interest. "If I'm stuck here anyway," he said, leaning forward again, "does that mean I can ask questions?" There was a brief pause, longer than usual, before the system responded. "You may ask questions," it said, "provided they do not violate established restrictions or grant access to prohibited knowledge."
Arin grinned, some of his earlier energy returning now that he had something to occupy his mind. "Great," he said, rubbing his hands together lightly. "Then let's start with something basic. The currency you use—points, coins, whatever form it takes—what is it actually based on?" He tilted his head slightly, thinking it through as he spoke. "I mean, it can't just be gold or silver, right? That wouldn't make sense for something on your level." The system did not answer immediately this time, and Arin noticed the delay, his curiosity sharpening. When it finally spoke, its tone remained neutral, but the answer carried weight.
"You are correct," the system said. "The material composition of the currency is not what holds value." Arin leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand, fully engaged now. "Instead," the system continued, "the value lies in the energy contained within the medium." Arin raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. "Energy?" he repeated, prompting the system to elaborate. "The energy can be described as a composite of free will and cultural expression," it explained. "It is generated by individuals and the civilizations they inhabit, and it serves as a foundational resource for planetary growth and development."
Arin blinked slowly, letting that sink in, then let out a low whistle. "So you're telling me," he said, leaning back again, "that what you actually care about isn't the metal, but… the essence of what people choose and create?" The system confirmed this without embellishment. "That's… kind of insane," Arin muttered, though there was a note of awe in his voice rather than disbelief. He ran a hand through his now neatly cut hair, still not entirely used to the absence of uneven patches left behind by Karl's knife. "And governments can just… make these coins?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Once a governing structure is formally recognized by the system, it will be granted the authority to mint currency in accordance with established parameters," the system replied. "The process ensures the integrity of the energy contained within each unit." Arin nodded slowly, his mind already racing ahead, connecting implications. "So culture and free will literally become resources," he murmured. "That means suppressing either would weaken a nation in the long run." He let out a soft chuckle. "Some governments are not going to like that." The system offered no comment on that observation, remaining silent as Arin continued to think.
After a moment, he shifted in his seat and asked another question, his tone more focused now. "What happens after the video you mentioned?" he said. "Do we just go back to Earth, or is there more to it?" This time, the system answered without hesitation. "Following the presentation, individuals who have publicly declared the intention to form a faction will be granted access to a designated space to establish it," it explained. "Those who have not will be allowed to join a faction after returning to Earth." Arin nodded, recalling the meeting and Karl's plans, already knowing which category he fell into.
"When all factions have been established," the system continued, "humanity will be gathered within a centralized auditorium." Arin raised an eyebrow at that but remained silent, listening. "There," the system said, "the formation of nations will take place under system oversight. Factions will be aligned with these nations, and broader structures, including religious institutions, will be integrated accordingly." Arin blinked at that, sitting up straighter. "Religions too?" he asked, surprised. "Correct," the system replied. "For example, the Catholic Church will be recognized as a religious nation, with affiliated institutions functioning as branches within other territories while remaining subject to local laws."
Arin let out a slow breath, absorbing the sheer scale of what was being described. "So everything is being reorganized," he said quietly. "Not just countries, but belief systems too." He rubbed his temples lightly, feeling the beginnings of a headache that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. "And Earth?" he asked after a moment, glancing up again. "What happens to the planet itself?" This time, the system did not answer immediately, and when it did, the response was brief. "That information is currently restricted," it said. "You are not authorized to access it at this stage."
Arin stared at the screen for a few seconds, then sighed and leaned back again, accepting the non-answer with a resigned shake of his head. "Figures," he muttered. He sat in silence for a while after that, letting everything settle into place, turning over each piece of information in his mind until there was nothing left to analyze. Eventually, he exhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. "You can worry about it all you want," he murmured, recalling his great-grandfather's words, "but if you can't do anything about it, there's no point stressing yourself out." He opened his eyes again and gave a small, tired smile. "Yeah… sounds about right."
With that, he pushed himself up from the chair and stretched, his body feeling oddly light and responsive compared to the battlefield. "Alright," he said to himself, glancing around the room again. "If I'm stuck here, I might as well make the most of it." His gaze drifted back to the projector, curiosity returning in full force. "Let's see what else you've got," he added, stepping closer and pressing a button. The machine flickered to life once more, and with each pulse of light, fragments of color bled back into the grey world, as if reality itself was remembering how to exist.
What followed was nothing short of astonishing. Scenes unfolded before him in vivid detail, not as distant recordings but as immersive experiences that placed him directly within the past. He stood on ancient battlefields, walked through long-lost cities, and watched pivotal moments in history unfold as if he were truly there. He witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the lives of legendary figures, and the quiet, ordinary moments that never made it into textbooks. It was history, but alive, breathing, and immediate in a way he had never imagined possible.
Time lost all meaning as Arin moved from one moment to the next, driven by an insatiable curiosity that refused to let him stop. He watched the campaigns of Alexander the Great, stood at the edges of the Bronze Age collapse, and followed the mysteries of figures like Jack the Ripper and D.B. Cooper with rapt attention. Some things remained obscured, particularly figures whose cultural weight was too immense to be fully displayed, but even those gaps only fueled his interest further. He found himself laughing, frowning, and occasionally recoiling, completely absorbed in the endless stream of stories.
At some point, he realized he was missing something essential to the experience. "You know," he muttered, glancing around as if expecting it to appear, "this would be perfect with popcorn." The absurdity of the thought made him chuckle, a rare moment of lightness after everything he had been through. Still, the lack of snacks did nothing to diminish his enjoyment, and he quickly returned his focus to the unfolding scenes. If anything, the absence of distractions made the experience even more intense, forcing him to engage fully with what he was seeing.
Before he knew it, the system's voice broke through his concentration once more. "Preparation phase complete," it announced. Arin blinked, pulling himself out of the historical immersion with visible reluctance. "Wait… already?" he asked, glancing around in confusion. It was only then that he realized how much time had passed without him noticing. The room around him felt the same, but something intangible had shifted, like the end of a long chapter. He let out a slow breath, then smiled faintly. "Guess it's time," he said.
His eyes landed on a door that had not been there before, standing quietly at the far end of the room. It looked simple, almost unremarkable, yet it carried a sense of finality that made his chest tighten slightly. "Well," Arin said, rolling his shoulders and straightening up, "no point hesitating now." He took a step toward it, then another, his earlier exhaustion replaced by a cautious anticipation. "Let's see how everyone else is doing," he added under his breath, reaching out for the handle. He had no idea what waited on the other side, but for the first time in a while, he felt ready to face it.