Adrian drifted in an endless blackness, his thoughts echoing through the void. He had no sense of a body, only the haunting awareness of himself. He tried to move, to speak, but there was nothing. The silence was absolute, pressing down on him from all directions.
Where am I? The thought echoed, swallowed up by the darkness.
The quiet gnawed at him. His last memory was of the lab—the fire, the shouts, his final act of defiance as he drank the parasite. He should be dead. And yet... here he was. Somewhere between existence and oblivion, lost in a boundless sea of black.
A flicker of light appeared, faint and distant. It pulsed like a heartbeat, drawing closer, splitting into three distinct forms. Each one radiated a different energy, and as they approached, he felt a shift—a weight pressing down on him, ancient and overwhelming.
The first being materialized as a living flame, a fire that crackled and surged with each pulse, giving off waves of heat and energy. It spoke, its voice deep and resonant, as if filled with the power to raze entire worlds. “Destruction,” it announced, as if the name alone could encompass its vast power.
Beside it, a second figure emerged—a shadowy warrior, darker than the void itself. He held a massive two-handed sword, its edge gleaming even in the darkness. This one radiated a feeling of wild, unchecked rage, a chaos barely held in check. “Crazed Berserking,” the figure murmured, the words rolling out like a warning.
And then, a third shape twisted and pulsed into being, a grotesque, organic mass of flesh and tentacles that throbbed with a sickly life. It grew as it spoke, undulating and shifting, tendrils stretching out and retracting. “Wall of Flesh,” it said, the voice oozing with a thick, wet sound.
Adrian felt a surge of revulsion at the sight. Without thinking, he muttered, “What in the hell... that... that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”
Wall of Flesh’s grotesque form quivered, and its voice took on an oddly delighted tone. “Why, thank you, mortal. Such a compliment—I've rarely received such sweet words from a human.”
Crazed Berserking let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Sweet-talking the dark gods won’t gain you any favors, mortal.” Adrian shot him a confused look, but let the matter drop. This was strange beyond comprehension, and he wasn’t about to challenge whatever these beings were.
The gods regarded him, each one with a different form of interest. Finally, Destruction spoke, its voice booming and authoritative.
“You impressed us, mortal. Your last act on Earth was... remarkable. Few possess the conviction to bring about such destruction with such ruthlessness. Your parasites decimated the world, consuming billions without a second thought.”
Wall of Flesh shifted, its mass pulsing as if in excitement. “Yes, yes. And to create such a deadly life form in a lab built from scraps? Your resourcefulness and your vision of biological perfection... I admire it.”
Crazed Berserking stepped forward, his form rippling with barely restrained energy. “And the infected—rampaging across the planet, disregarding their own pain or death. They destroyed everything in their path, a testament to pure, unbridled rage. You, mortal, brought chaos to order.”
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Adrian’s mind raced, grappling with their words. Part of him felt a perverse pride at their admiration, even as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what he’d done. Finally, he managed to ask, “So... what happened to Earth?”
The gods exchanged glances, as if deciding who would speak. Destruction finally answered.
“Forty-seven years after your death, the last parasite died. By then, 79% of humanity had perished. The incubation period of your parasite allowed it to spread unseen, silently infecting and wiping out entire populations. In the West, nuclear fire was unleashed in a desperate attempt to eradicate the infection, turning much of Europe into a radioactive wasteland. The world lies in ruin, mortal. Only fragments of civilization remain.”
Adrian felt a cold satisfaction mingled with a strange sadness. Earth was a wasteland now, his final creation having ripped civilization apart. He had wanted them to remember him, and they had, but at a cost that even he hadn’t fully comprehended.
After a beat, he looked back at them. “Then... why am I here? Why are you... offering me this second chance?”
Crazed Berserking grinned, his eyes gleaming like stars in the dark. “Because the dark and light gods have an accord, mortal. There are worlds for each side. Some belong solely to the dark, with little interference from the light. Others, to the light, with minimal influence from us.”
Wall of Flesh continued, his voice thick and grotesque. “Then there are worlds like Earth—soul farms, left untouched by both sides. They exist to feed souls into reincarnation, unclaimed by either faction.”
Destruction took over, his tone solemn. “But then there are contested worlds, where the power of gods—both light and dark—is limited. These realms are battlegrounds, where souls like yours are sent to corrupt or cleanse, to shape the world’s destiny.”
Adrian absorbed this, his mind spinning. A cosmic pact between gods, a system that used souls to wage war through influence. “So... you’re sending me to one of these contested worlds?”
Destruction nodded. “Indeed. And here, you will have power beyond what you once held on Earth. But before we cast you out into this new realm, you must choose a patron among us.”
Each god straightened, as if readying themselves. Wall of Flesh pulsed and grew, his voice rich and inviting. “Choose me, mortal, and I will grant you power over life itself—a dungeon heart with the ability to create, mutate, and shape life as you wish.”
Crazed Berserking hefted his sword, his voice a low, eager growl. “Choose me, and you will wield the might of a berserker. Your creations will know no fear, no pain—only endless rage.”
Destruction flared brighter, his voice commanding. “Choose me, and you will carry the power to bring ruin. Your enemies will fall before you, reduced to ash in your wake.”
Adrian considered, feeling the pull of each choice. His mind drifted to his lab, to his obsession with manipulating life, creating something new and powerful. There was only one option.
“I choose Wall of Flesh.”
A ripple of satisfaction ran through the god’s fleshy mass. “Wise choice, mortal. I grant you the dungeon heart, a core of life that will allow you to shape and command creatures. Your new world will serve as your lab, and its inhabitants... as your experiments.”
The other gods stepped forward, each offering a gift. Crazed Berserking laid a hand on him, his power flooding Adrian with a fierce, unstoppable energy. “Take this, mortal—a fragment of rage for your creatures, that they may know fury beyond reckoning.”
Destruction touched him last, filling him with a searing, destructive force. “And take my mark, that in moments of desperation, you may bring ruin to your foes.”
The gifts settled within him, dormant but throbbing with potential. Adrian felt a strange thrill; he was more than human now. He was... something else.
Wall of Flesh quivered, his voice softer but full of dark promise. “These gifts will awaken once you arrive in your new world, mortal. Use them wisely. Or unwisely—we care not. But remember, you are ours now, and we expect greatness.”
Without warning, the gods receded, the darkness rushing in again, suffocating. Adrian felt himself hurtling forward, the power of the dungeon heart throbbing within him, the gifts of rage and destruction stirring in his core. And then, with a final jolt, he was thrown from the void, plummeting toward a new world.