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Chapter 2 - Fates Hand

  ‘Ryker’ or whatever name he would have in the future wasn’t sure how to respond to the appearance

  of someone in this strange place. From just looking at the newcomer, he was fully aware he wasn’t

  dealing with someone ordinary. They had a glow about them. He could only describe it as…heavenly,

  in a sense. Was it a god or an angel? He knew such things existed but this was his first encounter

  with one. Still, he couldn’t jump to conclusions. This entity knew his name and since it didn’t appear

  hostile to him, he could attempt to simply learn more through a conversation. There wasn’t much else

  he could do, he thought, crossing his arms as he waited for the ‘heavenly being’ to speak first. If it had

  come here instead of the ‘Celestial Judge’, than something big was about to happen, he thought. The

  newcomer didn’t say anything at first, observing Ryker as much as he was observing the other.

  “You’re awfully calm. Most people that see me have a barrage of questions or even appear

  dumbstruck. What was it? Was I not flashy enough with my entrance, perhaps?” asked the newcomer

  with a chuckle. His remark was met with further silence before Ryker let out a short sigh and decided

  to reply. “I’ve lived 20 different lifetimes. They may not have been great but they taught me more than

  enough about when to keep your mouth shut around things you don’t fully understand. I can tell that

  you’re powerful just by the confidence that oozes out of you and the fact that you’re in this space with

  me but anything aside from what you want with me doesn’t matter as much as what your goal here is”

  he explained to the newcomer.

  “My goal? We can get to that in a second. I admire that you’re the cautious type, it would make sense

  after everything you’ve been through but you don’t have to be wary of me. I haven’t come to do you

  any harm, only to fix something that I am irrevocably responsible for in part” he explained, his smile

  fading slightly. Something must be weighing on the newcomer’s mind, Ryker thought, waiting for him

  to continue. “My name is Marcellus. I am the god of fortune and fate. I am considered one of the

  strongest gods in all of existence and I came here, at this very moment, because I discovered this” he

  explained further as he raised his hand. A miniature version of the normal ‘Celestial Judge’ floated

  above his hand. The screens that Ryker had seen so many times were floating on the palm of his

  hand and he could see the error message on the counter as well.

  “Let me guess. You’re the god that created the Celestial Judge and, now, you want to apologize for it

  like nothing happened?” asked Ryker bitterly. He knew that this god may have different intentions but

  he could feel a sea of emotions starting to stir inside of him. All the terrible things he suffered through

  life after life. He never thought he’d find the culprit that put him through all of that. He could feel his

  fists tightening as he glared at Marcellus. The god didn’t look upset, however, simply empathetic. His

  look was strangely calming and the longer Ryker stared at him, the less angry he felt. Something

  wasn’t right, here. Was he missing something? His gut feeling was right as Marcellus explained even

  further.

  Marcellus went on to explain that he had designed the system to judge souls accordingly as the task

  was often managed by him alone. The problem came, however, when the gods started creating new

  worlds infinitely. The more worlds that were made, the more people he had to process. “It got to the

  point where I was so busy working that I couldn’t attend to my other godly duties, such as watching

  over the heads of my religious followers or even taking care of my own Rootworld” he explained with

  a groan as he rubbed his face in frustration. “Rootworld?” asked Ryker. “I’ll explain that along with my

  full goal, in a moment, but I want you to know part of the reason why you had to suffer as you did” he

  explained quickly, as if hoping a quick explanation would help calm down the rage that was building in

  Ryker. Something about the way he said it, however, made him feel even further enraged. Why did he

  make it sound as if his suffering was necessary? Was it a joke?

  “I’m sorry for what you went through but it was something out of my hands until the Celestial Judge

  itself noticed how rapidly you were dying and the odd fact that you were getting the same score

  repeatedly, which is extremely rare in most cases” he explained while waving away the conjured

  example. “Sorry? Is that all you have to say after what you put me through?!” yelled Ryker. He had

  tried to hold it in but it wouldn’t stay where it was supposed to. All his suffering, despair and darkness-

  filled times of terror and all he got after everything was a sorry? Before he knew it, Ryker let out a

  torrent of insults and anger-fuelled words to the extreme. He knew it wasn’t something he would

  regret. After everything, it felt good to finally be able to release some of his pent-up frustration.

  It was while he was raging that he remembered everything he went through. He remembered the rare

  loved ones that he knew he would never see again after every death, leaving him with a bottomless

  loneliness as all he had left of them were his memories of them. He remembered every painful

  moment of torture, harassment, bullying and general suffering he was put through at times where he

  felt hopeful he might finally get to live a good life. He remembered every time he died, the fear and

  terrifying coldness that came with it. He remembered every time that he put his heart and soul into

  becoming a greater person and it always failed, as if everything bad that could happen did. All the

  pain he felt over the course of literally 20 short lifetimes flowed out of him like a raging and steamy

  river of blood that he had been holding back that entire time. Lastly, he remembered the question he

  had asked himself a thousand times. After his rant was near its end, he glared straight at Marcellus

  and screamed his question.

  “What did I do to deserve this?!” he shouted as hard as his lungs would allow. Ryker looked down as

  he panted, trying to calm himself down. He knew that it probably wasn’t Marcellus’s fault that the

  system had an error but for everything he had been through, who else was he to blame? He had lost

  so much more than what he had to begin with and even that was barely anything. The fact that he still

  even had his sanity after all those lives was beyond him. The silence after he stopped raging was

  heavy. He slowly looked up to see an expression he didn’t expect. The god didn’t look sad or stunned.

  He looked like he yearned to comfort Ryker in any way he could.

  Despite how impressive this god appeared to be, something told Ryker that he had a soft heart.

  Perhaps his words were too harsh? Ryker gathered himself carefully and was about to apologize

  himself for being too curt, when he was cut off by something that surprised him instead. “I was

  partially to blame for what you went through, yes, and you have every right to feel angry with me but

  the reality is that someone else is far more responsible for your suffering. You didn’t deserve any of it

  and I want to help you set it right” he explained. Ryker wasn’t sure what he meant. “You

  said…someone else is responsible for my suffering? What do you mean?” he asked, confusion filling

  him, leaving him wary after exerting himself so much.

  “Yes. You suffered the way you did because the error wasn’t natural. It was created” said Marcellus,

  his words echoing in Ryker’s mind. What did he mean? It was created? Wait, if the error was made by

  someone else than that means someone did it purposefully to make his life so unbearable? “I can see

  from your expression how you’re trying to work out who did this to you but let me save you the strife.

  From what I can understand, the error was created by the goddess of despair and suffering, Vine.

  She tampered with your file to make you suffer constantly for her own amusement” he explained with

  a hint of his own annoyance, clearly directed at Vine. From there, Ryker got answers in more supply

  than he expected.

  According to Marcellus, the gods do have limited ability to interact with the system. Of course, most

  gods only do this with permission from Marcellus as tampering with the system will, eventually, come

  back to him and get your privileges revoked completely should you do something untoward. “I believe

  she saw nothing worth having in the system and used it to torment you so she could feed personally

  off of the despair you generated” explained the god. Ryker wasn’t sure how to take this news but it

  was becoming slowly clearer who he would have to after for everything he had been through.

  “So…this goddess made me suffer for something that petty. What happens, now?” asked Ryker, his

  mind racing as to what to do with this new information. All he knew for certain was that he had a new

  enemy and the sooner he could get at her the better. He had cursed out Marcellus out of frustration

  and built up resentment but what could he actually hope to do about a mischievous goddess who he

  wanted nothing more than to actually kill? Could gods even be killed?

  “What happens, now, is that I’m going to help you get revenge on her. Should you want that” he

  corrected as put his hands behind his back. Marcellus explained his plan. “My goal here is to both

  correct the system and help you as a reward for enduring what you’ve been through. I will grant you

  benefits to help you in your next life and even put you on Vine’s rootworld so you can get your

  revenge on her, if you’d like to” he explained with a hopeful smile. Ryker considered all of this. They

  talked more casually a bit longer, where he needed to know a bit more before he agreed to go to this

  goddess’s ‘rootworld’. From what he could tell in their chat, Marcellus really did appear to be on his

  side as well as genuinely apologetic for not noticing the issue further. Considering how he appeared

  to be a considerate person, Ryker had already made up his mind to excuse his mistake, as the true

  enemy was clearly Vine. Of course, this could all be a big lie but could figure that out on the new

  world, hopefully.

  “Okay, if I’m to agree to be reincarnated to ‘Vine’s rootworld’, I have some questions” explained

  Ryker. Marcellus agreed to answer any he had. “I want to know firstly what exactly are the gods’ roles

  in handling the souls of the deceased. Don’t you have some kind of god of death?” he asked, curious

  on the matter. The more he knew about the situation, the better. Before, he didn’t care much since he

  believed that he would simply reincarnate again but it appeared like this was something far greater

  than a simple reincarnation. “There is a god of death, yes, but her job is to make sure you die when

  you die. Beyond that, your soul’s fate is up to me, the god of fate. The only time other gods would

  really have a say in your fate is when a god requires a special kind of person for one of their worlds,

  like a hero, for example” explained Marcellus.

  “So…when a world needs a hero or some other greater person, the god in charge of that world

  speaks to you about doing so?” he asked. Marcellus agreed to this but explained that evil gods

  typically don’t use this system very often as they are more open to simply bestowing great power on

  whomever they take a fancy to in their world. “So a dark lord or something is just a normal being

  imbued with the powers of their god?” asked Ryker. Marcellus confirmed this. Whereas a hero was

  designed to be one, something like a dark lord is far easier for a god to make themselves, since

  humans and other sentient races are just far easier to corrupt than keep pure and untainted.

  “Before you ask your next question there is…something else about you I should say now” stated

  Marcellus. “What is it?” asked Ryker. “You’re an anomaly and a big one at that” explained the god.

  “What?” said Ryker, looking confused. Marcellus went on to explain that very very very rarely, as in

  once in a trillion, an anomalous soul is created. “Signs of this are clear in your case. You retain your

  memory of every reincarnation, your mental health is unusually good for someone in your

  circumstances and you appear to reincarnate at random stages of life, rather than at birth like

  everyone else” said the god, nearly sounding impressed. What he said about the last part was most

  likely the most interesting.

  From what he could tell, most people probably reincarnated as a baby into their new life but that

  wasn’t always the case for Ryker. Sometimes, when he reincarnated, he would ‘awaken’ his past

  memories only when he is a child or has just reached adulthood. In a sense, it would feel like he is

  only truly ‘in’ that new world, when these memories resurface. “The fact that you are an anomaly,

  allowed Vine to more easily influence the characteristics of your file but I’m sure I can already guess

  your next two questions” said Marcellus with a small smile. Ryker rolled his eyes. “Tell me them then”

  said Ryker. “You want to know what a rootworld is and how I expect you to be able to stand up

  against a god?” he asked with a sort of playfulness. Ryker conceded that those were indeed his

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  questions as the god went on to explain the answers to him.

  “Let’s start with a rootworld. Every god can exist in multiple places at once, across thousands to

  millions of worlds. We are needed by many people, so being in only once place wouldn’t make sense

  for us. Of course, all of our instances are connected and that brings us to the rootworld. Every single

  god in existence has a rootworld, a place where one physical entity of ourselves exists in the material

  world” explained Marcellus. “From what you’re saying, Vine’s physical body would exist in her

  rootworld. What’s the relevance of this?” asked Ryker. “The relevance should be obvious. The

  physical body on the rootworld is the anchor that ties down all the separate versions of us across

  countless worlds. If that physical body were to ever perish…the god would be torn apart across those

  same number of worlds, essentially killing them entirely” explained Marcellus slowly.

  “Wait, so a god can be killed by simply destroying their body on their rootworld? Why doesn’t one god

  simply go around killing the bodies of the other gods to become the supreme god or something?”

  asked Ryker. “Because, thankfully, there are rules. You don’t know him but there is one god known as

  Ulix. He is, currently, the strongest god of all of us. He is the god of creation. No one knows who

  created everything in existence but Ulix was certainly his first creation and, hence, he has the power

  to wipe out the rest of us. To make sure us gods perform our roles correctly, he made three main

  rules. The first is that a god may never enter another god’s rootworld or tamper with it. The second is

  that a god may never kill another god. Third and, finally, a god may never kill themselves” explained

  Marcellus carefully so as to make sure Ryker could follow along.

  “Isn’t you sending me to this new world considered ‘tampering’?” asked Ryker curiously. “Oh, no. You

  see, this is an exception. I’m the one in charge of sending you somewhere random but since I’m in the

  process of ‘fixing’ your file, I can change the ‘randomness’ of where you end up. So, for example, I

  can make it so that after your ‘judgement’ you have a 99.9999999% chance of going to Vine’s

  rootworld” explained Marcellus with a cheeky grin. Ryker returned it. Things were starting to look up.

  Could he actually beat a god? “But I’m guessing that even if they have a physical body, they won’t be

  something a normal person can beat, right? Not to mention that if it’s their rootworld, surely the entire

  place would be fanatics to their god or something?” he asked with concern.

  “Close but you’re wrong about the nature of rootworlds. You see…us gods don’t make the new worlds

  ourselves. Ulix makes everything upon our request. Once a new world is made, we are actually

  restricted from interfering with the world directly. We can summon heroes through our religious

  followers, create specific events and…let’s just say that gods don’t have much free reign over our

  worlds, otherwise, I can assure that many worlds would be devoid of free will. That aside, a god

  chooses a rootworld or may even change rootworlds based on how much they like observing it. True,

  there will probably be a cult to Vine but it certainly won’t dominate the world. No matter where you go,

  not a lot of sentient beings like despair” he explained, easing Ryker’s fears.

  “As for how to kill her, I can’t answer that for you. All I can say is that you need to destroy her physical

  body. She’ll die just like you would but the body of a god is a very powerful thing. Even the strongest

  magical beasts will most likely be weaker than her in that world. My advice is for you to build up your

  strength any way you can before you clash with her” he explained to Ryker with worry. The fact that

  Marcellus sounded so concerned probably meant that doubted if Ryker would actually succeed. “Ok

  then but what are you going to do to help me? From what I can tell, you’re not just going to drop me

  into this world without any help, at all, right?” asked Ryker eagerly. Surely he’d get something to help

  amass strength? Maybe he’d be born as a nobleman or a knight, this time. He may even be the

  apprentice to some great wizard, perhaps.

  “Since you don’t seem too curious on anything else, I’ll get to my gifts for your forgiveness” explained

  Marcellus, lifting his hand again as two glowing blue orbs appeared, floating around his hand. The

  god lowered his fingers down towards Ryker as the orbs floated across the white room and vanished

  into Ryker’s chest. “What did you…” asked Ryker slowly, as he felt a warmth in his chest. “I’ve given

  you two abilities to help you in your next world. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you anything about them. I’ve

  already reached the limits of what I’m allowed to do for you and if I continue doing so, then Ulix would

  surely punish me. Are you ready to be judged again, Ryker?” he asked as he pointed up, the Celestial

  Judge appearing above Marcellus, this time, at his full size.

  “I’m ready” said Ryker. All of this was a lot to take in but all he knew was that he finally had a chance

  to live a good life and to kill the same woman responsible for his countless suffering and losses. He’d

  make her pay for what she did to him. Aside from his revenge, he wondered what her rootworld would

  be like. If she enjoyed despair, was it some sort of ruined world? A broken world would be a difficult

  thing to grow up in but if it meant it would make him stronger, than perhaps it was worth a shot? As he

  was thinking all of this, Marcellus tapped the Celestial Judge lightly and the same counter that

  appeared so many times before appeared for Ryker, showcasing the normal 1000. Slowly, he felt the

  light around him slowly engulfing him as he knew it was time to go to his new life again.

  “Thank you for helping me, Marcellus. I will find a repay this kindness one day” said Ryker, surprised

  to be leaving on good terms with a god of all things. “Thank you for enduring everything, Ryker. I can

  only hope you succeed” the god calmly responded back. As he waited for the counter to decrease like

  always, it clicked for Ryker. He had forgotten to ask about two things. One, which was why Marcellus

  seemed so keen to kill Vine and, two, what happens after you’ve killed a god? Before he could cry out

  his questions at the last moment, it was too late. He felt the light engulfing him as he lost his voice

  and the last thing he saw was the unchanging counter. Oddly enough, however, it did change, even

  by such a tiny amount. Just before all feeling was lost, Ryker would forever remember how he saw

  the number go from 1000 to 1001.

  After what felt like an eternity in nothingness, he, whoever he was, felt a stabbing pain in his head. His

  body felt weak, small, exhausted and not only was he in pain, he could feel the same sensations as

  he did when he was in the trenches of Ryker’s world. He opened his eyes and looked around in shock

  to see that he was sitting up in a bed of sorts. The bed was made of hay with a dirty rage draped over

  it. He could feel himself breathing rapidly but some deep-seeded fear made him stop panting so

  loudly. What was going on? He had been reborn many times before but this was the first time he was

  in such a shocked and trembling state. He did his best to calm himself and studied his surroundings

  some more. He was in a very large grey tent with the entrance closed. From what he could see, he

  wasn’t alone in the tent. There were perhaps at least 15 other people, from what he could count, all

  sleeping on terrible beds like his own.

  What was this? The place was cramped and he could only see what was around him because

  moonlight was streaming in from a hole in the tent’s roof. Their living conditions were awful. Was this

  the treatment of a 1001? He, finally, felt his rapid breathing slow down as he studied who he was first

  before he’d try to integrate his new self into his collective whole. From what he could tell, he was a

  boy, a young boy. Perhaps around 12 or 13? His body was malnourished, which was obvious from

  the hunger pangs, meaning his stature resembled that of someone a year or two younger than him.

  His body had some muscle but it was the kind built from manual labour and the blisters on his feet

  made it clear he was worked far harder than he should be.

  His clothes were tattered but since it was made up of three sets of poorly made clothes, he was, at

  least, warm to an extent. He could feel a bruise on his shoulder and, eventually, he had to notice the

  most obvious thing about him. He was chained. There was a metal collar around his neck and what

  looked like two black cylinder like chains on his wrists and ankles. Aside from the heavy collar, the

  others didn’t look so special but seeing as they had strange runes carved on them, he groaned as he

  had to take this as a sign that he was in a world with magic. Nobody would bother, otherwise, to put

  weird runes on the shackles of a prisoner. At least, was he a prisoner? He peered over to the other

  people in the tent. They were all in similar or worse conditions as him. Many of them were men but

  there were some women too. From what he could tell, he was the only one even below 20.

  Finally, he wanted to see his face in this new world. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anything reflective

  and he didn’t want to move from his bed, in case he woke up any of the others. The fact that his

  panting didn’t disturb them was a gift enough. With all of that out of the way, he closed his eyes, took

  a deep breath and focused. In an instant, he felt like someone pricked him with a needle in his

  forehead. It stung but he was used to this pain and endured it without making another sound like

  before. Within that instant, there was a wave of memories but…something felt muddled about them.

  He would sort that out after he absorbed them all, which he proceeded to do so as quickly as

  possible.

  From the memories of his new body, he came across the source of confusion. Someone or something

  had erased his earliest childhood memories. There was a clear gap in his memories which he could

  tell wasn’t natural. If this was a magic world, like he guessed it was, did someone go out of their way

  to wipe out his earliest memories? The earliest memory he could recall was around 6 or 7, where he

  woke up under the ownership of this place he was in. The only reason he could tell that someone had

  tampered with his memories was because of the fact that he reincarnated. His kid self would never

  have been able to know for sure. What’s more was that it appears he was able to get something from

  the ‘grey area’ of his earliest childhood.

  Perhaps memory magic or whatever they used didn’t complete wipe memories but subdued them

  permanently? He was able to find out something his unaware kid self wouldn’t have been able to. His

  true name. Up until now, he could remember that his name was Gile but the others at the camp called

  him Guts as an insult to him being gutless. From what he could tell, he didn’t have any allies here. His

  true name, however, wasn’t Gile. Perhaps because of his reincarnation, he could still remember his

  name, even from the part of his memory where it was ‘wiped’. His real name was…Cord…Cordell.

  Yes, his name was Cordell but who his parents were and how he ended up at this camp were beyond

  him.

  That brought Cord to his circumstances. Why was he at this camp? From what his memories would

  give him, he woke up at this camp one day and was told that he’d be living there for the foreseeable

  future. He wasn’t sure but he felt a bit more certain, now, remembering when he first arrived. He was

  7. He had been living at this camp for six years? That would make him 13. The reason for what kind

  of camp it was came easily enough from his shackles and memory. He was in a slave camp and,

  naturally, he was one of the slaves working there. The place itself was a mining camp of some kind

  and he could remember that they spent most of their time, from dusk to dawn, digging strange metals

  he couldn’t identify inside the nearby mine itself. The ores were then traded for food and water

  through the camp enforcer and that is how the slaves survived.

  His memories helped him to confirm what kind of environment the world is. Although he couldn’t recall

  much of the outside of the camp, he did know this was some sort of fantasy world with magic. Looking

  more closely at the people in the tent, this became even more obvious. Two people in the tent had

  pointed ears, meaning they could be something like elves. Another was short, tubby and had a thick

  beard. Was it a dwarf? The person that stood out the most, however, was a tall woman with four

  arms. He’d never encountered a race like that before but they must be muscle leaning as she

  appeared to be physically more powerful than a normal woman and yet somehow appeared to keep

  her feminine charm. What an odd race.

  He knew the reason why they weren’t chained to anything was because they didn’t have to be. The

  shackles had something called ‘Binding’ magic on them. It meant that if they tried to leave the camp

  without permission, the magic would activate and they’d be paralyzed. The collar wasn’t there to keep

  them there, however, his memory revealed that it was a way for the camp enforcer to punish slaves.

  He could simple activate some kind of device he had and it would cause some sort of terrible head-

  splitting mental attack. Cord could tell he suffered from this before and it was truly horrible as you

  couldn’t even think while suffering through it. All of this was terrible news. How did he end up in such

  a terrible position…again!

  Was Marcellus just playing with him? Was he in league with Vine just to make him despair further?

  No…he appeared sincere but how did that explain his circumstances? Cord calmed himself through

  willpower as he was, at least, able to reflect on how he looked. He was a pale-skinned boy with long

  black hair that was overgrown and messy. He knew he was lanky but that became clear when he was

  on the move, from the reflection he saw in a metal sheet not long ago. He also had a lot of cuts and

  bruises but, thankfully, nothing too serious. He did have some scars from whipping but they didn’t

  bother him outside of some rare phantom pain, where he imagined pain in the places where he was

  whipped, when there was none.

  “Is this really it? All of it once again” he whispered to himself, finding he actually liked his new voice.

  As he was about to try to force himself to sleep for whatever terrible experience awaited him

  tomorrow, suddenly, a blue screen appeared in front of his face. Wait…what? He wasn’t imagining it.

  There was a screen in front of his face. It read the following.

  [Name: Cordell Boras]

  {Level: 1}

  {Power: 22}

  [Perks]

  - Not yet unlocked.

  [Skills]

  - Mining Lv 3

  - Scavenger Lv 1

  - Awareness Lv 1

  - Pain Tolerance Lv 1

  [Gifts]

  {Fate’s Memory}

  {Fate’s Eye}

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