In dimension ### called the Games Arena a deity called Game Master cracked its figurative figures in satisfaction. “Another millennium, another game complete” as it had said many times. “and with another game complete the more soul power this one has earnt to empowerment the game greater and more grand than the last!” Breaking into a monologue is a common hobby amongst geniuses and is most often appreciated by its fellow likeminded deities but not so much by the million souls, with more mortal tastes, floating about.
‘Damn souls, not even an applause for my theatrics.’ The GM thought. ‘It doesn’t help that only a small portion of them were recently sentient. The majority are roaring, chipping or barking. The sentient are in panic, anger or confusion and that does not make for a good audience.’ “Why do I even try, they’re just tools to be used” it muttered.
“Alright I’ll just get to the point! All of you have been randomly plucked from the multiverse to serve as entertainment for the deities, gods or whatever beings of power deign to watch! But it isn’t for nothing. If this one gains from this so do you. You souls have the opportunity to be reborn greater than what you could have been. Normally you would be reincarnated by chance into another body in the material realm but now through my game you have a choice! However this is a game and you must earn these rewards by merit. Fail immediately and you will be reborn into the tiniest and most insignificant of organisms! Here at the Games Arena we measure your merits with points that are used by you to make a choice in your next life. Rise into glory or fail and become trash!” of course the most successful of souls will be won by the highest bidder as entertainment in their own dimension but these so called dogs don’t need to know that.
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“Okay time to spin the wheel, throw the dice, pull the lever! Let us see what game we will play for the next millennium! Annnnd it’s Mecha Death Match! Woah this is going to be amazing! Who doesn’t like watching two massive robots smashing each other into scrap metal?!” silence fills the room in response to the question. “Whatever, I’ll send you off to the next step I’ve got a battlefield to generate.” Then in a flash of light the deity disappears.