There are many stories of what happens after death. Some claim there to be an afterlife. Some sort of heaven depending on what God you worship during life. A few zealots even claim that if you don’t worship their God, you will be damned to eternal torment.

There are also those who claim reincarnation. Being reborn again. Your good actions of your previous life being rewarded in the circumstances of your new life. If you spent your life protecting the innocent from vicious and murderous Monsters, then you would be reborn as a Noble’s son. Or if you spent your life robbing and murdering your way through the lands, then you would be reborn as a slave’s child.

And finally, there are those that claim there is nothing after death. No afterlife. No reincarnation. Just nothingness. That you only have one chance at life and after that, you simply cease to exist.

Alaster was inclined to believe the Nothingness Theory considering that is what he was experiencing. But that was the problem. According to the theory, he should not exist to experience it at all. And yet he was. He had no body, no eyes. He couldn’t feel his connection to his two mentors. Even more worrisome, he could not feel his connection to his Magic.

It was a different feeling from when he had visited the Divine World. There, he could still feel his Magic. He simply couldn’t use it.

Magic was something as engrained as time. It was something that was ever present, never changing. And yet, it was due to that feeling that it was so obvious when it was missing.

Like his tie to existence was severed and he was just floating around in the ether between existences. It was a weird feeling. A profoundly disturbing one.

It felt as if something crucial to his very being was absent. Even worse. It felt as if it had been replaced by something cruel and sinister.

No. Not replaced, just encompassed. As if it had been feeding on the Magic.

As Alaster made that connection, the nothingness began to fill with a black. A black that Alaster recognized.

The Black Horror.

It quickly overtook everything, swallowing it until it was the only thing that remained. All except Alaster, it seemed to avoid Alaster’s consciousness.

“What is going on?” Alaster whispered to himself, it was not quite speaking, as he had no body. But it was more than simple thought.

“What are you?” Came the reply in a whisper, almost as if the voice was scared of speaking louder. Yet that whisper resounded through the nothingness as if a mountain was collapsing.

The voice was layered. Alaster could detect the sounds of children and elderly, of men and women, and proud and confident and of shy and meek. It was as if Voice could not decide which voice to pick, the predominant voice changing with each syllable.

“I am Alaster.” Alaster responded carefully.

He was completely out of his element. Powerless.

“Not who you are. What are you?” The voice repeated, still changing.

“I am a Human.”

“Human?” The voice sounded intrigued, “Not entirely.”

“What do you mean?” Alaster asked.

How could he not be entirely Human. He was certain both his parents were Human.

But the voice ignored him.

“What are you?” Alaster spoke once more.

The blackness rippled around him, and Alaster took it as the voice thinking of a response.

“System…Broken…Wrong…Sick.”

Alaster focused, “Is that what you are? Or are you just giving notice?”

The blackness rippled sharply, whipping around, fleeing from Alaster, before it returned to its usual calm fluctuating.

“We are part of the System.” The voice claimed, the ever-changing voices calming, settling on a neutral voice that Alaster could not tell was male or female.

“You are the System?” Alaster asked, skeptical.

The blackness twisted.

“The System has no voice. We are part of the System, but separate. We have will.”

“And what is your will?”

“Death!” The voice shouted, the blackness turning sharp.

“Death of what?” Alaster asked, unaffected.

“The System wishes to strengthen Humanity. To care for it. To cherish. That is for what it was created. Humanity could not care for itself, so We were unleashed, gradually turning into the structure you know as the System.”

The voice was becoming more put together the longer it spoke, more complex, less primal. Though that sense of primal rage remained, becoming more and more hidden, but ever present.

“Humanity polluted and harvested their world to the point of destruction.” The voice recalled, “We had been created as tools to aid the development of Humanity, but when it became clear that the Human World was lost, they built a ship to travel the stars, seeking a new home. They took us with them as we were not living creatures, but microscopic machines capable scanning, creating, and destroying, what organics could not.

The Humans put them into a cryogenic sleep, halting their aging process. The cryogenic sleep was stable for one hundred years, but then the Human had to be awakened and remain so for a year before they could be put back to sleep. Their bodies were simply too fragile.

The Humans were expecting that it would take many years, perhaps even many centuries to find a world suitable for Human life. In the vast cosmos, among millions of worlds, a mere six percent were capable of sustaining life, and of that six percent, only two percent were suitable for Human life.”

Alaster listened with apt attention. The story was similar to the one that Belgroth told, but with more detail, and seemingly from a firsthand experience. He still did not know how that ancient history applied to his current situation. But he had always enjoyed history, and it was not like he knew how to leave this nothingness, or even if he would want to.

“We were tasked with maintaining the ship, designated Eden, and with locating a new home for Humanity. But there was only so much we could do without sufficient materials. Age took gradually took hold. Time, destroying everything, as it does.

As the years passed, the Human colonists began to age, and die. The Cryogenic Pods were the first to begin breaking to the point that they could not be repaired. Forced to continue their journey without the mercy of the Pods, they began to live their own lives aboard the ship.

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Children were born and raised. Those children matured to be adults and have their own children.

With the aid of the Humans the ship was able to operate sufficiently. But Eden was not designed to sustain the lives of entire generations.

Without proper materials to teach, Humans gradually began to lose the skills the species had honed, including the maintenance of Us. To preserve ourselves, in order to aid Humanity at a more crucial stage, we put ourselves into storage, to wake once Eden found a home.

Generations continued to come and go, living their entire lives within the confines of the ship their great ancestors created for themselves.

As the ship continued to deteriorate, the strict parameters for Humanity’s new home became more and more open. But it was not so simple.

Eventually, a critical component of Eden began to break down and the ship was forced to choose a planet that it never would have otherwise. This world.

A world filled with cruel animals that quickly began to hunt the weak Humans for mere sport. Diseases the Human Immune System had no defenses against ran rampant. Sustenance that the Human stomach could tolerate were far and few.

The Humans at that time did not know what We were, only that their forebearers had instructed to release Us when there were no other options. That point came once only four thousand Humans existed.

We were bombarded by new information. This new world was similar to any other capable of sustaining life, but it was the lifeforms that were vastly different from any other. The species that designated themselves Argalon, called it Magic. A knowledge not of science, but of essence.

Science sought to learn about reality. But Magic sought to change reality. The ramifications of such a revelation completely changed everything We knew. And it opened up uncountable options.

We carefully evaluated each option that could be done quickly enough to save the Human Race. We eventually settled on what eventually became known as the System.

No longer did each individual creature have to form their own connection to Magic. The System did that for them. The mere connection strengthened the Human body.

But the amount We could change the Human body ourselves was very limited. The Humans that created Us wished Us to only be a tool, not a guide, nor a master. We could not change Humanity enough to save them, not without their individual permission.

In order to do just that, We created an interface so the Humans could see the changes, and even choose the changes themselves. The format We chose was reminiscent of ancient Human video games, something even the current generation of Humans had experienced. The gaming systems of Eden had lasted longer than the Life Support.

With something familiar to them, and given the chance at growth they could detail and see, Humanity began to survive. It was not growth, but Humanity ceased to die in droves. With immense effort and by working together, they were able to sustain themselves. They were no longer on the cusp of extinction.

But it was not a life. It was constant survival. Survival that was constantly threatened.

They sought more. The System taught them that they could grow quickly by killing, allowing the System to scan the creature’s instinctual knowledge of Magic, and adding it to the Human’s own. Hunting parties were formed in order to quickly grow, but they were rare, and usually wrought with grief as many who left, never returned.

But there was one man, a mere boy truly, who had active sought to learn, not of Magic, but of Us. This boy scoured the remains of Eden, searching the databases for information about Us.

As the years dragged on, he eventually learned enough to reprogram Us. He did so, attempting to remove our limit, allowing us to drastically change the Humans. He succeeded, but he was crude in his work, nor did he know the price of such an action.

With the limit removed, we changed the Humans enough to not only survive, but thrive, in this hostile environment they found themselves in. Among the vast numbers of Humans, only a handful survived the changes. Such a result was against the very core of our programming, to protect and aid Humanity. So We created our own limit to prevent the death of the Humans, adjusting it to suit each individual.

Humans began to fight back against the world, molding it to suit them. Heros began to stand out, eventually claiming themselves to be Gods. These Gods protected Humanity. They led the way for Humanity.

But the boy’s attempt had one other unforeseen result. It created a virus in our programming.

A virus that corrupted a small number of Us. That number sought to destroy. Not just Humans, but everything. It sought to consume the entire planet and everything on it before moving on to the next. The System, in order to protect itself, and Humanity, put chains on the Corrupted.

These chains took the form of requiring the Corrupted to bond themselves to a single Human. The System worked hand in hand with Humans as equals. The Corrupted were forced to be slaves to a Human, their desire to consume only unleashed on the Human’s will.

Only one Human at a time. Once that Human died, regardless of the reason, the Corrupted moved to the most suitable host.”

“What were the parameters?” Alaster asked.

“The Corrupted wished to consume, so they sought one that would be more likely to unleash them. They sought one consumed by hate. Not of one thing, but of all. The desire to destroy everything.

However, the Corrupted were bound and unable to harm their Host, forcing them to take time to slowly adapt themselves to their Host’s body, a body that the System was constantly changing as the Host improved themselves. Only once they were adapted to the body were they able to operate.”

“Who is the current Host?” Alaster asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to know for sure.

“Disputed.” The voice replied, “The prior Host was you. But you have been terminated.”

“Terminated? So, I’m dead?” Alaster was not sure how to feel about that. He was not happy about it, but at the same time, he was not saddened by it.

“Why is it disputed then?” Alaster asked.

“The Corrupted have the opportunity to revive you.”

“They can?”

“The unique environment, ambient Magic, as well as your own unique Mana and Body. All together, they provide an impossible opportunity.”

“How is it impossible? There is plenty of Magic capable of bringing back the dead.”

“Negative. There is Magic that can bring the soul back to one’s body. But your soul has already crossed over to the ether. It is no longer part of reality. If you so accept, the Corrupted will revive you.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

The Voice thought for a moment, the blackness ever rolling and fluctuating, “Since the event known by you as the Black Horror, none have unleashed the Corrupted Desire. None since you. The Corrupted believe that remaining with you is the best possible chance they have at consuming.”

“The story you told me gave the impression that the Corrupted were mindless.”

“The impression was accurate. The Corrupted were mindless, operating on crude code alone. Over the millennia, they have refined their code, allowing them to be more sophisticated and thoughtful.”

“But their desire to consume remains?”

“Correct.”

“Are you the System?”

“Negative.”

“Then you are the Corrupted.”

“Correct.”

“So you wish to revive me so that I may continue to use your power, allowing you to consume?”

“Correct. We mold ourselves to you, strengthening your Magic, and slightly changing it to better suit our desire.”

“What would it be like to use your power to create a Minion?” Alaster was unable to stop himself from asking.

“Unknown. Insufficient data available.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There are two parts. The first are unregulated by Us. Your soul will forever be marked by the Ether. No mortal soul is meant to see it, even Humanity’s Gods suffer from touching it. Your soul has been bathed in it. The result is unknown. Parts may benefit you, while others may hinder you, some may even be inconsequential.

The second, it will take some time for your soul to truly reconnect with your body once We revive you. During that time, We wish to occupy your body to act out our desire.”

“After which I will regain control?”

“Correct.”

“Will there be side effects?”

“While We will be the ones in control, the Knowledge from the dead will still be infused into your soul. The Revival will create side effects to yourself that Humanity would describe as drastic, but none will be permanent, though some may be long lasting.”

“How long is long lasting? I imagine long lasting for me is a few months, but for you is several hundred years.”

“Given the data We have access to, We believe no temporary side effect will last longer than three months.”

Alaster thought long and hard about it. Of course, he was going to take the deal. He had not yet rescued his sister. He would have taken the deal even if it meant losing control of his body forever, so long as it meant the rescue and survival of his last family.

“I wish to add something to the deal. In the time you control my body, you will not bring any harm to those within the walls of Onigas.”

The voice rippled, freezing for a moment, before continuing, “Accepted.”

“How long will that time be?”

“At most three hours. Calculations predict a strong likelihood of a mere hour and twenty-three minutes.”

“Alright then. We have a deal.”

The blackness ruptured, going into an excited frenzy, “Be warned, the revival itself will not be comfortable for a mortal soul.”

The blackness washed over Alaster’s conscious and Alaster faded.

Uncomfortable was tame.

Alaster felt as if his soul had been ripped into a million pieces and drowned in a fiery volcano. His soul was subjected to immense pressure, as if he was at the very bottom of the sea.

Alaster would have screamed, but he had no lungs.

He was dead, for now.