----------------- The Transmigration Dept' Newbie's POV ----------------

I still remember what happened in that world.

Lucifer, tasked with bringing light to the world of mortals, was not happy with his job. Civilization was flourishing, but the mortals too often forgot to pay proper homage. His pride demanded that all mortals prostate in awe at the mere mention of his name and the names of his masters. Drunk in their happiness and prosperity, they forgot that all they had was due to him. And his masters, of course.

There was nothing to challenge that happiness to show people how to value their lives. And then Lucifer decided that for the greater good, he would rise to such a challenge. He and his closest subordinates descended into the underworld and drank the dark essence of regret and sorrow torn from the dead souls in purgatory. They cast aside their feathers and the demon race was born.

The bringer of light could also bring darkness so the light would be cherished. The demons spread over the land, mating with animals and people. Their evil essence created the monster races. As a blanket of dread and death, the monsters slaughtered thousands, millions of people.

It was then that Lucifer's rebellion was made known to the heavens. The heavenly host gritted their teeth as they were forced to fight their brethren. The mortals had no power to fight back against monsters. It was then that the gods granted people titles, levels and skills so they could grow in power with the same measure of their accomplishments. Soon heroes appeared among the most valorous of them, and the tide of chaos was pushed back.

Lucifer stole the idea of the gods and granted his monsters levels and skills of their own. Once again the war was tilted in his favor. Civilization was on the brink of ruin. Monsters were bred and raised faster than any of the god's beloved people. They also gained more power from killing people than people killing monsters as they fed on the divine gift in their vessels.

Only a few realms of rational races were left. They turned to the stars in despair and summoned mighty heroes from another world. Those souls that were specially prepared by the battle, valorous champions tempered by the heavens themselves. And so the heroes one more time brought the light of hope in the eyes of people.

Enraged and jealous, Lucifer thought himself the only worth of bringing light. He descended from his throne of bones, the now crowned Demon King and did battle to the heroes himself. That night, the light was forever lost as Lucifer feasted on the blood of the worthy.

The siege of the Last Bastion would mark the doom of the world. The heavenly host and the gods themselves descended upon the world dressed in mortal flesh to fight the last battle. Lucifer and his nine generals of hell led the charge. Angel and demon, god and betrayer clashed. Engorged by the power stole from countless mortals and the heroes, Lucifer dominated with the very power created by the gods to fight himself.

Mighty though they were, the gods clad in mortal flesh were killed and eaten. At the cost of their immortal essences, Lucifer was mortally wounded, for he was also clad in flesh. A mighty explosion destroyed the Last Bastion. His generals and the last surviving seraph were scattered to all the corners of the world, never to be seen again.

In his death throes, he cast a curse upon the people he once loved so dearly and despised even more. The curse of Lucifer stole from people their faith. No longer would they have the ability to believe in a higher power, no longer would their prayers reach the now empty heavens. The last remaining seraphs would be reduced to a pale shadow of themselves but so would also the surviving demon generals.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Here and there, survivors among the people were left in a world that belonged to the monsters. They struggled. They fled. They died. The great crafts and achievements of civilization lost forever. Millenia passed. They lost the knowledge of their origins, of their fate. Without faith, they hoped for nothing but fulfill the basic instincts of survival.

Soon they learned that the places far away from the ley lines had the least amount of mana, and monsters did not like these places. They built great walled settlements along these power-less spots and lived inside with fear of the monsters lurking in the darkness of the world. But in a twist of fate, the very fact that the place was inhabited by hundreds of humans raised the mana level by quite a lot. Enough to draw the interest of the monsters, the basic instinct of killing people driven into their very being by the Demon King still beating in their mana cores.

The leaders of humanity decided to train brave youngsters to drive away the monsters. Cull their numbers and keep the areas around the settlements free of monsters. Without the miasma generated by monsters, these areas would be free of stronger monsters and safe for people. And so the Adventurer's Guild began operations. These youngsters were also a danger for the leaders, for their great power could make them greedy and would allow for a quick replacement of the very leaders they were sworn to protect. Strong adventurers were given quests of increasing difficulty until they died at the hands of powerful monsters.

The culling of heroes and strong monsters ensured a balance where the intelligent monsters avoided human settlements for fear of retaliation and problematic heroes were sent away. Centuries passed, and this dread truth was forgotten to most but the top echelon of the Guild and government.

Embrace heroes, foster their growth, reward them greatly, win their trust and send them to their deaths against some dragon.

A world where the final battle between good and evil was lost is a world deemed lost by the cosmic powers. A world that could nurture no god is a world doomed to sleep in a corner of the universe wreathed in darkness. A world whose name was forgotten even by these very cosmic powers.

The wailing souls from these worlds were even shunned by the gods of other worlds. They brought zero faith and the risk of spreading the faithlessness curse upon their own worlds. Yet out of charity, now and then, some gods take and nurture brave souls from this world for a short period.

...

Like my own soul. I am thankful for the god (or gods? I can't recall) of Earth for having me as their guest for a however short time my stay was. They won't hear my prayers though.

It is a world I would never dream of returning to. Yet it is my duty to go there and stop Jack. And retrieve that poor boy's soul, before the worst happens.

What was my name in that world again? I forgot. I remember that I fought the demons. Was I a hero? I don't know. Washed through countless reincarnations in those endless eons, my powers were lost. My memories are faint.

I approach the supervisor. He made the transmigration department his situation room for this crisis. He will also act as my backup during this incursion. All my skill crystals were approved by the SSQA and are already safely loaded into my soul's vessel.

...

Time to go. Hell awaits. Mission Parameters: Retrieve Jack. Retrieve Jack's guinea pig's soul before it breaks.