In the depths of the Pacific Ocean that no man or machine had yet to traverse, a patch of green valley lay in perfect condition. It was as if that instead of being located in a dark and cruel place of bone crushing pressure, the valley was a piece of land that had escaped the touches of time and man. Ancient plants grew in abundance. The kind that would have archeologists selling their mother to catch a glimpse of. Oddly enough, at the center of this ancient visage was a large Beverly Hill style mansion. If any living American were present, they would hear the out of place song about a rather large species of snake booming on a pair of stereos that towered to the same height of the house.

“Master, are you seriously going to go through with this?”

Inside of the mansion, two identical men were situated in a large entertainment area. Scattered about were all sorts of arcade games imaginable. One of the men was sitting cross-legged in front of a massive flat screen television. To his left and right, two holograms of scantily dressed anime girls danced on poles. On the screen was the indicator that the player had just been eliminated and was now spectating the victor initiate another build fight with a third party interloper.

The sitting man let out a sigh and scooted away from the high-end mouse and keyboard that would have any gamer drooling in envy. With a lackadaisical stretch the old man untied his ponytail, and let his long white hair flow freely down his back. A smile as innocent as any pothead high on Chemdawg spread across his face.

“Relax my student. I know what I am doing.” The sitting man rubbed some sleep from his blood shot eyes. A quick onset of coughing delayed his next words. Faint specks of red stained the sleeve he used to cover his mouth. “My only regret is that I never had the chance to perfect The System. I guess I should be glad that I will never see it implemented.”

The second man of identical appearance was dressed rather prim and proper. He was wearing a custom suit and had his hair cut and styled better than any frat boy. A look of pain was on his face. Words that he had held back for so long were paused on the tip of his tongue.

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The first man saw this and let out another, slightly heavier, sigh. “I have lived long enough. As the last living Grand Sage, it is my duty to prepare the humans of this world for the end of the armistice. Never had I expected those punk ass bitches to break the truce that held true for so long. This is my only option.”

“People will die,” said the second man. His tone was flat and devoid of the emotions he repressed. “Billions will die without even knowing why, and that is just the conservative estimate. If the worst case scenario plays out there will only be tens of millions of humans left alive.”

The same carefree smile of the first man danced back onto his face. “And if I don’t, they will all die. Our group had agreed not to teach magic as a condition of the truce. Hell, we even came here to this stupid rock that is almost completely devoid of mana to prove it. The others have already gave their lives to be able to put together The System. I will not be the one to waste their lives.”

The well dressed man clenched his fists. “Why can’t I die with you. I may only hold a fraction of your power, but I can contribute.”

“You are my clone. Created for the sole purpose of playing Admin and keeping those old monsters from flooding into this realm. Maintain the system and judge when the survivors are ready for the subsequent rounds.”

Tears sprang from the corner of the second man’s eyes. The blood running through his veins belonged to one of the seven heroes that saved humanity. Yet, he was about to witness the deaths of so many and be a instrumental part in “vetting” the survivors.

An insanity flashed in the eyes of the first man. His smile broadened as he felt the beating of his heart go sporadic and begin to go into a lul. The humans of Earth had an interesting concept called the “Afterlife.” Although he knew it was full of shit, a part of him wished that he was wrong. To be able to share a drink again with his brothers and sisters in arms was a wonderful fallacy.

“Let the games begin!”