In the beginning before my adventures and chronicles as the chosen hero of my deity, all was darkness. Or well, the vast dead space of a universe that was once, alive. That was once full of the spark and gift of creation, and life, but abandoned by its creators, as if they grow bored and care not for it any longer.
An abandoned universe, what was once beautiful, became dull, and ugly. What was full of noise and sensations, became silent, and stale. Ordered chaos, became a chaotic mess of destruction. What happened to those who wore happy smiles, voices once full of awe and veneration to the gods, and the infectious gaiety and merriment of the people, slowly became bitter, cynical, and hopeless. Slowly, they drowned in despair, as the universe rapidly dies, and the people succumbing to irrationality and madness.
Which lead to depravity, which lead to unimaginable horrors better left not spoken, nor imagined. Experiments, taboos, and inhumane practices, and maniacal euphoria as they finally managed to succeed in making a child immortal.
And oh boy, lucky me, I was said child, taken away from my parents, subjected to tests, injected with various drugs here and there, became a conduit for rituals, and spells, and tortured to test the limits of the success of immortality inflicted upon me. Cruel, it was, till they abandoned me, as the universe finally died when they have done their last experiment to me.
I lay there, or probably floating in nothingness, if you can even call it that. Definitely mad, longing for warmth, or death, or possibly both. Numb, subjected now to a universe of void and nothingness, and unable to escape my fate nor end my suffering. I couldn’t call it living, and my sanity was already fraught and fragile. Hells, I don’t even know how I managed to stay a bit sane to being subjected to such painful, existential dread of an experience, if you can call it that. Probably, I am not sane at all, not sane at all.
I recall a memory, blurred as it may be, of a memory that was sweet, of my mother tucking me in, telling me stories of the gods, and how the universe, and our world came to existence. How we should praise, thank, and trust in them, always.
Now, as I am the last survivor of this dead universe, all I’ve done as those memories resurface, all I’ve done is to curse, and cuss, and swear the names of the gods who abandoned us, who left us without any explanations, or any reason behind. And hate with all my heart the cruelty my people have done to me, inflicting me with immortality, inflicting me with eternal trauma, and subjecting me to painful memories.
As eons passed by, eventually I stopped thinking. Just a husk floating in the vast nothingness of the void that was once a lively, functioning universe. The once unbearable boredom, the crippling loneliness I explicitly felt, ceased to be.
Suddenly, a light so blinding and luminous flashes before my very existence. A deep booming voice said into me, tinged with melancholia and sympathy, “Awaken you who have been abandoned by the original gods of this universe. Whose life have been so full of misery, and sorrow. Come now, child. Be reborn, let me choose you as my champion. Let us be a tandem in a universe where you will surely enjoy. Be reborn, I ask of your trust and consent. I choose you not out of pity, but of sympathy and love. I will be your Lord and together we shall enjoy what life has to offer in that new universe.”
And so, I was brought into these realm that they so called Godville, a place full of monsters and heroes. Doing quests, battling fearsome and not-so horrific monsters, being a drunken and pious fool serving in honour and as a way of paying for what I owe to my god. This new opportunity at life he gave me is fun, tiring, but fun. Reborn as a hero, now free yet shackled to service to a god who sympathizes and love me, forever I shall serve him, and in time, I hope I can lay to rest the pain I have brought over from the universe I was originally in.