Milkey whiteness seemed to stretch on forever, and the silence was so thick it was almost physically oppressive. There was no visible horizon or any shapes at all. Just… nothingness. I couldn’t feel the weight of my own body. The air—if it could even be called air—carried no scent whatsoever. For a moment, I wondered if this was what death looked like: no time, no stimuli, and not a shred of hope.

And yet, I had memories. Seemingly simple, mundane ones: the gray buildings of my previous life, the flicker of fluorescent lights in the office, and quiet evenings in my own apartment. Maybe it was all an illusion, or perhaps some kind of final flicker in a dying brain. I wondered if I really was dead. After all, I’d ended up here, in this all-consuming white void; something must have happened.

I was certain of one thing: in that previous life, I had a last name, a birth date, and some unpleasant emotional baggage. I grew up in an orphanage, without parents. Later, when I became an adult, I was trapped in a routine, just another anonymous employee in a giant corporation. Day-to-day life never really captivated me. But now it all felt as distant as stories from centuries past.

After some time—I couldn’t tell if it was a second or an hour—I felt a strange tingling in my chest. There was no accompanying sound or movement of air, but my intuition told me to look around, as much as one could in the midst of nothingness. I instinctively focused on some undefined point and suddenly realized I wasn’t alone here.

That thought shook me more than the fact that I was floating in a white void. I wanted to call out loud, “Hello? Is anyone there?” but not the slightest sound escaped my lips. I couldn’t feel my tongue or my lungs. And yet I was certain something—or someone—was watching me.

Then I heard a mechanical tone, completely devoid of emotion, like a computer or an AI. It echoed inside my head, as though bypassing my ears and speaking directly to my consciousness.

“You have been chosen. You will be given the chance for a new life.”

I couldn’t respond, though a thousand questions swirled in my mind. “Chosen”—I rolled the word around in my thoughts as though it were the strangest concept imaginable. Who had chosen me, and for what? What kind of “new life” was this? I felt an inner shiver, a kind of tension you feel when encountering the unknown.

But the silence didn’t let up. The dissolving milky whiteness allowed me to see that the space around me was becoming slightly translucent, as if revealing something deeper within. At that same moment, the voice spoke again:

“Everyone who enters the realm of the Overlords has a choice. You can make a sacrifice in exchange for a talent tailored to what you’re willing to give up, or offer nothing and rely on a random gift.”

It felt as if someone had yanked me from a safe dream and thrown me onto a dangerous arena. A sacrifice? What did “sacrifice” even mean? My mind frantically scanned the past few days, searching for anything that could explain my situation. Nothing came to me. Had I died, and was this a form of reincarnation? Or had I fallen victim to some experiment?

Regardless of the explanation, I had the irrational sense that whatever was happening wasn’t a dream. This was a painfully real reality, even though it felt absurdly unreal. At the same time, I sensed that doing nothing might mean the end. I knew I had to respond, but how? I wanted to ask for clarification, but again, I couldn’t speak.

The space around me rippled. The white void started to shift, like someone was tugging on a curtain made of liquid light. From that swirl, symbols emerged, reminiscent of ancient runes, shimmering on a translucent surface a few steps away. I was certain I couldn’t actually take any steps, as there was no ground to feel—but still, the word “approach” formed in my mind.

Instinct took over, and I moved closer, though my legs seemed to exist more in my imagination than in any physical sense. The symbols pulsed as if they were alive, thousands of them overlapping each other. Amid them, a message appeared—something I shouldn’t have been able to read, but I understood it instantly:

Write what you will give up to fulfill the system’s requirement. Or choose not to sacrifice anything and accept a randomly assigned talent.

An echo resounded in the depths of my mind: “sacrifice.” It was meant to be something that was part of me and could also be taken away. A chill ran through me as I realized I was faced with a choice that could shape everything that lay ahead. My instincts protested. Why should I give up anything when I never asked for a new life? For a moment, the thought of simply picking the “second option”—not giving up anything and hoping for a random talent—flitted through my mind. Sure, I might get something valuable, but I could also end up with something utterly useless. A random lottery sounded risky, perhaps even more so than a defined sacrifice. I was torn, sensing that both paths were uncertain, yet one demanded a very specific price from me.

The silence was relentless. The system—or so I had to call this will that spoke inside my head—was not negotiating. I was trapped, with no choice but to move forward. I tried to rationalize it: Maybe this is a test? Maybe if I refuse the sacrifice, I’ll be given another chance somehow? But a deeper thought reverberated within: “Everything has its price. If I want powerful abilities in this new world—and if I want to survive—I must pay for them.”

A memory of the orphanage surged up, full force. I saw the faces of people I had never truly called family. The solitude that weighed on me every single day. Was it ironic that the thing that hurt most was what I’d never experienced—the absence of normal parents, the lack of warmth I only knew from movies or watching others? The thought of giving up those memories brought both a sense of relief and a pang of guilt at the same time.

Were the memories of parents I’d never truly known so precious that keeping them would save my soul? Or perhaps it was precisely because they were so abstract that I could afford to give them up?

The milky sheet of light flickered, and it felt like the runes around me were waiting for my decision. For a brief moment, I considered sacrificing something minor. But what? Whoever I was, I couldn’t recall any treasured relationships apart from the hazy notion of my parents. Besides, the system had hinted that the greater the sacrifice, the greater the power. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I felt that without a solid talent, I had no business in a world that called itself the realm of the “Overlords.”

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Among the swirling symbols—all shimmering invitingly—I saw no clear hints from the system. So I began rationally analyzing what “sacrifice” actually meant. The system didn’t seem tailored to me personally; rather, it operated on universal rules: you give up a part of yourself, and you gain a specific talent.

I thought about what I could truly give up. My memories of parents I’d never met—was that really such a high price? From the system’s perspective, it seemed valuable because parents are supposed to be important. Yet for me, the loss wouldn’t be all that painful, given that all I felt was emptiness and regret over something I never experienced.

I also considered other aspects: my gender, which supposedly defines a person, but in my former life hadn’t given me anything particularly special. Would losing that identity really be a big issue in a new world, especially if it supposedly included various forms of magic and technology?

Eventually, I found myself wondering whether, instead of stacking up smaller sacrifices, I should offer something truly significant to push my talent to a higher tier. The system, although impersonal and silent, displayed a vague message: after two sacrifices, I could expect an “epic” talent. But what if I found something even more valuable that would boost my power to its highest level?

I considered various possibilities—giving up years of my life, part of my health, or even my sense of hearing. Each option, however, felt in some way destructive and threatening to my future existence. Ultimately, I thought about my sight. Without eyes, a person is condemned to darkness, but since this world was said to be filled with magic, there seemed a decent chance I could find spells or techniques that would let me “see” differently—things like aura vision, echo-based perception, or spatial sight. That sounded exotic, yet not impossible in a place where the system itself chose Overlords.

It was an extreme approach. I knew I might regret it one day, but at the same time, the lure of an even more powerful talent was strong. Magic was my only hope of compensating for it, and I had no intention of being just an average Overlord—especially if there was a path to true power. Almost no one would risk losing their sight; I was fairly sure I might be the only Overlord crazy enough to do so. Maybe that would give me some unique advantage in the eyes of the system.

Who knew—maybe not being able to see wouldn’t be such a big obstacle in a world that was already turned upside down.

By that point, even the white void seemed to be observing my inner conflict. At last, I chose: my sight. It was the next, third sacrifice I decided on, believing that the magic and technology of the Overlord world would help me soon enough. I swallowed hard, bracing for the price I’d have to pay.

It all sounded like a massive gamble, but I sensed the system wanted something truly significant from me. If I wanted to tip the scales in my favor, I had to pick sacrifices that were huge from the system’s standpoint but not as painful for me, given my circumstances. The memories of parents I never truly knew; the gender I had never viewed as fundamental to my identity; and my sight—precious, sure, but in the Overlord world I was betting on finding an alternative. I swallowed and readied myself for the final choice.

I took a deep breath, despite there being no air in this space. A sense of risk soaked into my very bones, but I was ready. If I wanted to seize this chance fully, I had to go all in.

I clenched my imagined fists and focused on my sight, the last part of my sacrifice. The thought pounded in my head that the loss of my eyes could be the ultimate price—but also the start of something bigger. The magical world the system spoke of had to have ways to compensate for such losses.

“Take my sight,” I whispered in my mind, feeling tension mount within every part of me.

The runes blazed with brilliant light, nearly blinding me one last time. I felt something deep and internal being torn away. In a single moment, the milky void gave way to darkness, and I knew the stage of sacrifice had ended.

Just when I thought I might lose my mind, the system’s voice spoke once more: “Sacrifice accepted. Talent granted: Legendary – Eye of Chaos.”

Eye of Chaos. The name sounded both intriguing and unsettling. It held something raw, something untamed—perfectly capturing the chaos unleashed in my life after I had given everything up. What possibilities would it offer? Would it be my chance to survive in an unknown world? Questions multiplied in my mind, but the system remained indifferent, like a cold machine enforcing merciless laws. It had no intention of providing answers or explanations.

I wanted to protest, to ask what would happen next. But instead I felt a sudden yank, as though I were falling into a bottomless pit, unable to see the ground. The white expanse abruptly transformed into darkness, suffocating me yet simultaneously giving me a sense of an immense power swirling all around. Was this the essence of the Overlord world?

For a fleeting instant, I saw a vision in my mind: vast, barren lands, rocky wastelands, and a soaring tower that dominated the landscape.

It felt as though someone had tossed me into the very heart of a harsh, unforgiving world. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: “Am I going to have to live there?” Before I could dwell on it further, the vision vanished.

I felt suspended, in a strange place between my past and a new beginning. I’d lost what had defined me in my previous life—my memories, my identity, my sight—yet I had gained something else. In my chest, I felt the pulsing spark of energy, the result of my sacrifice.

Once again, a voice echoed in my head, this time quiet, like a distant echo: “Transfer in progress. Prepare for rebirth in a new dimension.”

Rebirth. I gave a bitter smile, unsure whether the body I no longer felt could even manage a smile. It signaled a beginning, but also the end of my old self. I thought about my former life, short and devoid of significance. Perhaps this really was a chance for something different—bolder, more fascinating?

There was a roaring sound, like thunder or an earthquake. I started to fall. It seemed as though the darkness around me was swirling, and I was hurtling downward, even though there was no reference point. One thought pounded in my head: “Let it end. Let it be quick.” Suddenly, everything froze, and the darkness acquired a density unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I felt as though I were underwater, except it wasn’t water. Nor was it empty space. It was something that connected me to the new world I was supposedly about to enter.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard clipped whispers in my mind. I couldn’t understand them. Maybe they were echoes of other Overlords going through a similar experience? Or perhaps the system was reaching out to each one of us individually, calling us to this new world with the same absurd demand for sacrifice?

I knew one thing: I had lost what defined my identity in my old life, but I had gained a chance—nothing more. I had no idea if that would be enough to avoid perishing in a world ruled by Overlords, each brimming with ways to seize dominance. My memories were fading, like an old photograph. I no longer had a gender, I didn’t remember my parents, and as for my sight… I felt fear at the thought of stumbling around blind in a new reality. But I assumed the system would handle that differently than it would for an ordinary human. Perhaps I would perceive the world in an entirely new way.

Adrenaline flooded my mind, though speaking of “blood” and “body” was pointless here. Everything was happening in fractions of a second, yet I also felt as if it had been going on forever. Would anyone greet me in this new world? Would my very first act upon “birth” be a fight for survival?

There was no time for further speculation. I heard a sharp crack, like shattering crystal. A wave of heat washed over me, and in an instant I realized the transition was at hand. With one final flash of awareness, I saw the darkness split open, revealing a gray, desert-like landscape studded with towering rock formations. It might have lasted a second at most, but I still managed to register a few details: ragged clouds, scarce vegetation, and a strange, tall tower in the distance that loomed over the horizon.

Right after that, my mind fell silent. I only had time to wonder, “Is this the new world?” I didn’t get the chance to hear an answer. The only solid thing was that spark of power I felt within me—though I had no idea how to use it. It was called the Eye of Chaos, a talent that seemed to fit perfectly with the aftermath of my choices. It carried with it a glimmer of hope and a mountain of unknowns.

What would happen next? Would these barren lands become my grave, or my adopted home, where I might build a kingdom, summon subordinates, wage battles against monsters and other Overlords? Somewhere in that vast expanse, would I encounter enemies more powerful than anything I could have imagined in my previous life?

The system remained silent, neutral, and aloof in its omnipotence. Meanwhile, as the darkness of consciousness closed in, I felt a trembling in my heart—or perhaps my soul—a mix of fear, excitement, and regret for what I had given up. I promised myself that, although I couldn’t recall exactly what I’d lost, I would try to make the most of this opportunity. It was a chance to cut ties with a past that had been empty anyway. Maybe fate would be ironic enough that I’d find in the Overlord world what I had lacked before.

These questions swirled in my head, and the answers lay somewhere in that sun-scorched realm I was now hurtling toward. Nothing would be simple or predictable. There was no turning back. My sacrifice was a done deal—and from now on, it would define my new path.

I heard nothing else. The world spun, and darkness descended once more, this time welcoming me like the gentle embrace of night, in which I would awaken as someone entirely new. Sacrifice… that was the price I had paid for this chance. Whether it was worth it, I would only discover in the moment I opened my eyes in the stark reality of the Overlord lands. But that is another story, one that begins under the glare of a merciless sun and the roars of monsters lurking in the barren wastes.