As I drifted to sleep, that familiar voice—Death—whispered into my mind, telling me a story of something that once was...

Once upon a time, in a land far removed from Albion, there existed different Divines and a court of their angels.

This world, much like Albion, was filled with both good and evil, but it leaned heavily towards the dark. Evil is difficult to destroy, while doing good is hard work; as a result, it became a cold and brutal place.

Yet, amidst this pervasive darkness, there was one soul who saw it for what it truly was: "an absence of light."

This soul thought, “If nothing else in this world shall be good, then I shall strive to be the light for those around me.”

It was a singular mortal who chose to keep returning to the world, sharing kindness wherever they went. They refused to let the light fade from existence, even when the shadows pressed in. Many viewed this relentless pursuit as self-inflicted torture, a Sisyphean struggle against the darkness.

Lifetime after lifetime, they brought charity and joy to those in need. Their will seemed almost eternal, a force that transcended the limitations of mortality.

While other agents of the light feared to venture into the darkest corners of existence—worried about being corrupted by the evil lurking there—this being boldly sought out those very places, believing that light shines brightest in the dark.

Many believed that the actions of one person could not possibly matter, yet like a single torch igniting another, it was one act of kindness that sparked many thereafter.

If one were to examine the lives they lived throughout history, they would find an individual who appeared insignificant. They were never recorded in grand tomes of history, never a great leader or someone who stood out. They were simply a do-gooder, quietly working in the background.

Sometimes, this caretaker was merely a kind soul who took in an orphaned child; at other times, they were a healer tending to the sick.

Death herself referred to this person as "Mercy," for they embodied the very essence of humanity's potential for goodness.

To many, they represented the best parts of the human spirit—the part that fights to love someone unconditionally, even in the face of overwhelming darkness.

If mortals could hear the sound of angels screaming in grief, the world would have gone deaf the day Mercy was no more.

After her story concluded, she simply said, “Remember the last time you saw me, my love.” The words tugged at something deep within me, stirring memories long buried. The scene shifted once more, thrusting me into another life experience.

I walked through the abandoned streets toward the power plant, my body heaving with effort. There was nothing left to vomit, just fluid since there was no food in my stomach. Chemotherapy will do that to you. A loss of appetite and the constant purging of the poison they pumped into me. Every step was a struggle for my ruined body; I was little more than skin and bone at this point.

On the bright side, I had grown accustomed to the searing pain of radiation. If anyone had a higher tolerance than me, I would be surprised. I had endured it for four years in a desperate attempt to create a miracle. Anyone else would be dead by now—or so they said when they accidentally let information slip. Nurses can have loose lips, especially when talking to a friend.

Carol had been kind enough to help me out of the hospice. I had to convince her to go her own separate way. She had always been a nice gal. If I was going to wait to die, I might as well walk toward it. Perhaps in my final hour, I could still do some good—one last act for the sake of humanity, I thought.

Where guards would once have stopped intruders at the plant, there was nothing. They had fled in such a hurry that the gate had been left wide open. A few bodies lay near the building, remnants of personnel who had perished. Some had died from radiation exposure, while others had crushed skulls from panicking and jumping out of the building from the third to fifth floors. Even intelligent people can make foolish decisions in a crisis.

Something in this place felt like it was calling to me—not my name, but something someone once called me long ago. It was like a familiar song, though I could not remember the words.

Once inside, it felt as though I had walked into an oven. The pure burning sensation from the radiation was intense. My God, no wonder everyone was dead. I crawled up some stairs, each step feeling like I was scaling a mountain. Once at the top, I gripped the railings to pull myself up.

It felt like days before I reached the core, but it must have only been minutes; otherwise, the reactor would have gone off by now. I stumbled into the heavily fortified room where the core was housed. In the observatory nearby lay a dozen dead scientists. A fortunate discovery was that one of them still lived and worked the controls—the employee of the month, folks!

"Hey!" I waved. The man briefly looked up, confusion flickering across his features. He wore one of those CDC-like hazmat suits. I could tell from his face that his skin was tanned. He had some black hair hanging down around his eyes. Perhaps he was an oriental scientist? Many intelligent people come from all kinds of different places.

"Who are you?" he asked, pointing at me.

"Just a terminally ill patient from the nearby hospice. I came to see what was going on," I answered.

"What's happening?" I asked, gesturing toward the reactor.

"The fusion reactor uses different kinds of energy to bond two hydrogen atoms. An electromagnetic field controls the trajectory and reaction of the atoms while a false matter gravity field forces them together," the scientist explained.

The false matter-energy field was the new revolutionary tech that made this non-nuclear reactor possible. It supposedly imitated the effects of a sun's gravitational field through some kind of reverse pulse, pulling inwards instead of pushing out, much like gravity.

"Is there any way to stop it?" I asked, my voice trembling with urgency.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. The badge on his suit read Doctor Hanz Kamar.

"Doctor Kamar, my understanding is that the false matter-energy field reacts badly with the presence of real matter. Couldn't we throw something in there to interrupt the reaction?"

"...Maybe. I think there is something we could use in the observatory." I pushed myself forward, breathing heavily until I reached the glass room. But all I saw were bodies—nothing large enough to throw into the reactor to stop it.

Then one man in a white lab coat caught my attention. His face was familiar, but my head was foggy. Why did he look so familiar? Just as the realization hit me, it was already too late. The pointy end of a knife pierced through my abdomen, emerging from my back. A dagger in the back! The man on the ground resembled the one on Doctor Kamar's badge. The one I had just met was the cause! He was not one of the staff at all—he had triggered the reaction on purpose!

"WHY???" I pleaded.

"This world is rotten, and God has left us," the man in the hazmat suit replied.

"I don't understand."

"NO ONE DOES! GOD HAS BETRAYED ME! LEFT ME TO SUFFER AMONGST THESE TWISTED FOOLS!"

"What do you gain from this?" I asked, my confusion growing.

"I want nothing more than to be with my brother again, but the heavens have cursed me to be here forever. Fate has made me unable to reunite with him, but if all the humans in the world die, then we can be together again. I can finally tell him I’m sorry for killing him!"

Oh, so you’re just fucking crazy, I thought.

"Would your brother be okay with seeing you after what you did to him?" I asked pointedly.

"You do not know my brother; he is very forgiving," the fake scientist replied, mildly agitated. He clearly had his own doubts.

"And what about after this? Genocide makes even the most forgiving person a bit grumpy," I added.

The suited man began pacing, arguing with himself.

"He has to! HE HAS TO FORGIVE ME! THIS IS ALL FOR HIM!"

"A good man would hate having atrocities done in his name!" I shouted.

Now the crazy man was losing it. Just as I hoped, he no longer paid attention to the fragile dying cancer patient with a dagger in his gut. I had one chance, and no one else would think of it. I had no other weapons, so I had to pull out the knife. Thank the countless broken arms from playing sports as a kid and my cancer for my high pain tolerance. I managed to slowly extract the blade from my back. The blood loss would kill me soon, but hopefully not before I did what I had to. I waited until his back was turned, but something felt off.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I carefully rose, positioning myself just right, and with a charged hobble, rushed toward him.

"Ahh!" I screamed at the last second, causing him to turn toward me. He never expected me to be able to attack in my state. I pierced the knife into his gut, targeting the area between the sternum and solar plexus. Such a wound can be non-lethal but causes a severe loss of strength and balance. The man fell over, shock in his eyes.

"Why go so far for them?" he asked.

"Who would I be if I were untrue to myself?" I replied. I was too weak now to carry another body to throw into the reactor. There was only one vessel I could drag over there. The man's useless body might as well be cast into the fire.

"OH NO, IT CAN'T BE! WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE NOW? YOU ARE HIM!" the crazy man howled.

I pretended I could not hear him.

"DON'T DO IT, ABEL! I CAN'T BE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR DEATH AGAIN!"

Mere feet from the reactor, his voice faded away. I looked around and noticed that even the clock on the wall had stopped.

"Hello, Abel," said a stunning woman with black hair.

"Another person who thinks my name is Abel? That’s not my name," I replied.

"Not in this lifetime, but it was your first name," the dark-haired woman answered.

"Do I know you?" I demanded. Something about her felt intimately familiar—as if I had known her forever.

"Oh, yes you do. You will remember me soon once you die. You always remember when you die, but there is a bit of a problem this time around. You see, you want to throw yourself into that," she said, pointing at the reactor.

"SO?" I questioned her.

"If you go into that, you'll be disintegrated—body and soul," she said seriously.

"Why do you care?"

"I've always cared about you. You're the only mortal I've ever let know my name. Everyone else just calls me the Angel of Death," the stunning figure replied.

"You know, even if that's true, I cannot turn my back on everything and everyone I care for," I said, feeling the weight of my decision.

"I know... I just wanted to spend one last minute with you and give you this," she cried, waving her hand in front of me before disappearing altogether.

I didn't know what she had done, but something shifted within me ever so slightly. Why did I suddenly feel like people called me Mercy?

The old version is below.

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 Once upon a time in a land far from Albion. Where there exist different Divines and a court of their angels.

This world was filled with both good and evil like Albion but it leaned towards the dark. For evil is difficult to destroy and doing good is hard work. As a result, it is a cold and brutal place.

There was one person that saw the darkness for what it was... "An absence of light".

They thought, "If nothing else in this world shall be good then I shall strive to be that which is good for those around me."

It was one mortal person who chose to keep returning back into the world to share their kindness. He refused to let the light fade from the world. Many felt his will to save humanity from their worst nature was simply self-inflicted torture.

Lifetime after lifetime they brought charity and Joy to those who needed it. Their will seemed almost eternal.

Those other agents of the light feared to appear in the darkest of places and times. They feared being corrupted by the evil of the world. Somehow this being was never corrupted after returning so many times. This person chose to seek out those places for they were a light that shines greatest within the dark.

Many believed that one person's actions did not matter but like how a single torch may ignite another, it was one act of kindness that sparked many thereafter.

If one were to look at who they had been throughout history they would think this person insignificant. For they had never even been recorded. They were never a great leader or the type to stand out. Just one do-gooder in the background.

Sometimes this caretaker was just a kind soul who took in an orphaned child or often they were a healer of the sick.

Death herself called this person "Mercy" for they were an Angel born of Mankind.

To many, they represented the best part of the human spirit. The part that fights to love someone unconditionally.

If mortals could hear the sound of angels screaming in grief, the whole world would have gone deaf the day Mercy was no more.

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  I walked through the abandoned streets towards the power plant and I heaved. All I had to vomit was fluid since there was no food in my stomach. Chemotherapy will do that to you. A loss of appetite and often puking up the poison the hospital pumps me full of. Every step was a struggle for my ruined body. I was little more than skin and bone at this point. On the bright side, I am used to being hit with radiation. If anyone's got more tolerance than me I would be surprised. I've been hit by it for four years in an attempt to create a miracle. Anyone else would be dead by now or at least that's what they say when they accidentally let information slip. Nurses can have loose lips sometimes especially when they are talking to a friend.

Carol was kind enough to help me out of the hospice. I had to convince her to go her own separate way. She always has been a nice gal that one. If I am going to wait to die anyway I might as well walk towards it. Maybe in my final hour, I can still do some good. One last act for the sake of humanity perhaps, I thought.

Where guards would have once stopped intruders to the plant, there was nothing. They had fled in such a hurry the gate had been left open. There were a few bodies near the building of personnel who had died. Some died from radiation exposure and a few had crushed skulls because they panicked and jumped out of the building from the 3rd-5th floors. Even smart people can do stupid things amidst a crisis.

Something in the place felt like it was calling to me. Not my name but like something someone once called me I had forgotten as a small child. It was like a familiar song but I could not remember the words.

Once inside it felt like I walked into an oven. The pure burning sensation from the radiation was intense. My god no wonder everyone was dead. I crawled up some stairs and each step felt like climbing a mountain. Once at the top I used the railings to pick myself up back onto my feet.

It felt like days before I reached the core but it must have only been minutes otherwise the core would have gone off by now. I reached the heavily fortified room where the core was housed. In the observatory nearby were a dozen dead scientists. A fortunate discovery was that someone else was still alive and working the controls. The employee of the month folks!

"Hey!" I waved. The man briefly looked up confused. He was wearing one of those CDC like hazmat suits. I could tell from his face his skin was tan. He had some black hair hanging down around his eyes. Maybe he is an oriental scientist? Many smart people come from all kinds of different places.

"Who are you," He asked pointing at me.

"Just a terminally ill patient from the nearby hospice. I came to see what was going on," I answered.

"What's happening?" I asked pointing at the reactor.

"The fusion reactor uses different kinds of energy to bond two hydrogen atoms. An electromagnetic field controls the trajectory and reaction of the atoms while a false matter gravity field forces the two together," The scientist answered.

False matter-energy field was the new revolutionary tech invented that made this non-nuclear reactor possible. It supposedly imitated the effects of a sun gravitational field by some kind of reverse pulse. It pulled inwards instead of pushing out just like gravity and thus the name.

"Is there any way to stop it?" I asked.

"No, whatever someone did to it cannot be reversed," He answered shaking his head. The badge on his suit said Doctor Hanz Kamar.

"Doctor Kamar, my understanding is that the false matter-energy field reacts badly with the presence of real matter. Couldn't we throw something in there to interrupt the reaction?"

"... Maybe, I think there is something we could use in the observatory. I pushed my self forward breathing heavily until I reached the glass room. Once inside all I saw was bodies and nothing that was large enough to throw into the reactor and stop it with any success.

There was one man in a white lab coat who caught my interest. His face was familiar but my head hurt and was cloudy. Why does he look so familiar? When it hit me it was already too late! The pointy end of a knife pierced out the front of my abdomen through my back. A dagger in the back! The man on the ground looked exactly the same as one on Doctor Kamar's badge. The man I met here is the cause! He is not one of the staff at all. He was the one who triggered the reaction. It was all on purpose!

"WHY???" I pleaded.

"This world is rotten and God has left us," The man in the hazmat suit replied.

"I don't understand".

"NO ONE DOES! GOD HAS BETRAYED ME! LEFT ME TO SUFFER FROM THESE TWISTED FOOLS!"

"What do you gain from this?" I questioned genuinely confused.

"I want nothing more than to be with my brother again but the heavens have cursed me to be here forever. Fate has made me unable to ever be reunited with him but if all the humans in the world die then we can be together again. I can finally tell him I'm sorry for killing him!"

Oh, so your just fucking crazy, I thought.

"Would your brother be okay with seeing you after what you did to him?" I asked pointedly.

"You do not know my brother, he is very forgiving" The fake scientist answered mildly agitated. He clearly had some minor doubts himself.

"And what about after this? Genocide makes even the most forgiving person a bit grumpy," I added.

The suited man began walking back and forth arguing with himself.

"He has too! HE HAS TO FORGIVE ME! THIS IS ALL FOR HIM!"

"A good man would hate having atrocities done in his name!" I shouted.

Now the crazy man was losing it. Just like I wanted because he was no longer paying attention to the fragile dying cancer patient with a dagger in his gut. A chance that no one else would think of. I had no other weapons so I had to pull out the knife. Thank several broken arms from playing sports as a kid and my cancer for my high pain tolerance. I managed to slowly pull out the knife from my back. The blood loss would kill me soon but hopefully not before I did what I had too. I waited till his back was turned but something about it felt wrong.

I carefully got up positioned myself just right and with a charging, hobble rushed towards him.

"Ahh!" I screamed last second causing him to turn towards me. He never expected me to be able to attack him in my state. I pierced the knife into his gut. Between the sternum and solar plexus area. Such a wound can be non-lethal but causes a severe loss of strength and balance. The man fell over with shock in his eyes.

"Why go so far for them?" He asked.

"Who would I be if I was untrue to myself," I replied. I was too weak now to carry someone else body to throw into the reactor. Only one vessel I could still drag over there. Damn things useless now anyway, I might as well cast it into the fire.

"OH NO, IT CAN'T BE! WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE NOW? YOU ARE HIM!" The crazy man howled.

I pretended like I couldn't hear him.

"DON'T DO IT ABEL! I CAN'T BE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR DEATH AGAIN!"

Mere feet from the reactor his voice drowned out. I looked around and noticed even the clock on the walls needle had stopped.

"Hello Abel," Said a very beautiful woman with black hair.

"Another person who thinks I am called able? Abels, not my name," I replied.

"Not in this lifetime but it was your first name," The dark-haired woman answered.

"Do I Know You?" I demanded. Something about this woman felt super familiar. Like I'd known her forever.

"Oh, yes you do and you will remember me soon once you die. you always remember once you die but there is a bit of a problem this go around. You see you want to throw yourself into that," The dark lady said pointing at the reactor.

"SO?" I questioned her.

"If you go into that you'll be disintegrated in body and soul," She said seriously.

"Why do you care?"

"I've always cared about you. Your the only mortal I've ever let know my name. Everyone else just calls me the angel of death," The stunning death angel answered.

"You know even if that's true I cannot turn my back everything and everyone I care for," I said.

"I know... I just wanted to spend one last minute with you and give you this," She cried waving her hand in front of me before disappearing altogether.

Time resumed and I ignored a blue screen that appeared before my eyes. I didn't have time to read and contemplate this shit!

The Angel of Death has proclaimed you the rightful owner of a title she has been known by throughout the ages.

You are now designated as "The Angel of Mercy".

*Disclaimer*

No mortal has ever held the title of a high Angel before. Whatever effects this may have is unknown.