Sitting beside a tree trunk in the wilderness, I stared at the thing which had been floating beside me for a few days.

]Proceed[

Kismet had told me that I should do it when I was home, but I was too curious, and I wanted answers.

That, coupled with the fact that Kismet had said that he'd 'made' me had gnawed on my mind for so long that I couldn't hold it in anymore.

Taking a deep breath, I clicked on the ]Proceed[ button-ish type of thing and waited.

Nothing . . .

Nothing happened.

'Was that just a dream?' I sighed.

'I was hallucinating wasn't I? How could it be real-'

"You are an idiot, you know that?" a dull and cold voice sounded beside me and I bolted up towards it, my hand on the Dor in my pocket.

The figure sighed, sitting down in front of me.

"Now I have to protect you while you're gone . . . " He yawned and sat down lazily.

"Wh-" before I could say anything, my vision darkened.

"Enjoy the 'tutorial' . . . " said the figure in a disinterested tone before I got sucked inside the darkness.

"What the actual fuck?" I said, my voice resounding in the darkness. But before I could move or infer where I was and what I was doing here, I found myself in a roam.

A cubical room.

I twirled around, for any signs of danger and to see my surroundings.

It was a simple white cubical room. A white box with no door whatsoever. There was nothing but a few books aligned in one corner, a simple bed, and a toilet in one of the other corners.

It was so small that I could literally walk from one side to the other in nothing but ten paces.

I sat on the bed, musing to myself.

Had the figure said something about enjoying the 'tutorial' hadn't he?

So, what was this? Like a tutorial or something?

⟨Let me explain.⟩

A voice reverberated inside my mind, making me shudder.

"Dude, whoever you are; can you lower your voice a notch?" I said, massaging my ears.

⟨Ahem, I apologize for the inconvenience.⟩ said the dull voice devoid of any emotions.

Sitting atop the soft bed, I asked.

"So, what's happening?"

⟨First of all, I am Mark. Lord Kismet's servant and butler.⟩

"Ah," I realized. "So you're that strawberry pie butler."

⟨strawberry pie butler? Never mind that.⟩ he said. ⟨would you kindly stop uttering any words until I'm done speaking?⟩ he asked rhetorically and continued without even getting my reply.

⟨This is a tutorial. You will learn a lot here. The condition to get out of this place is simple, blow it up using whatever you want. Do it any way you want it to. Don't worry, there is a simple reactor room with no guard and a simple door which can be opened easily—this was all so that you could have a little easy time.⟩

⟨anyway, enough about the tutorial—you'll learn about it as time passes. The more important information is this, listen carefully . . . ⟩

⟨You had been chosen as a pet monkey to provide entertainment to my lord Kismet; God of Fate.⟩

'Pet monkey . . . ?'

As I registered what he'd said, my eyes flared in anger.

"What did yo- "

⟨I said; don't utter a word.⟩ Mark said, coldly. I felt something foreign invade my body and my mouth's muscles tensed. I couldn't speak even if I tried.

⟨yes, that's better.⟩ Mark commented.

⟨Anyway. The God Of Fate's job is tedious. The world you reside in is created by us—a technologically superior race—to study the meaning and purpose of life. This world Is fake—a simulation if you will—and Lord Kismet, is the one who overlooks this world.⟩

⟨He had become bored. Always watching over the fates of everyone and studying the meaning and purpose of life for eons. It had become tedious, boring. He was bored because of a simple fact: As he is the God of Fate, he knew everyone's fate and had become so adept at predicting and calculating, that he knew how this world would end—a world he had looked over for eons, a world he had come to like.⟩

⟨He, due to his boredom, had excluded this world from his influence, thus from his fate-seeing. This world had become something akin to entertainment for him. He was happy for a while, he couldn't read fate, after all.⟩

⟨But his calculations were so profound, that his Godly self could easily predict a life. He had become bored again. Simply because he could predict the end of the world.⟩

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

⟨So, to satiate his hunger for entertainment, and to change the 'end' to his ideal scenario he assigned me, his humble and capable servant to make something new for his entertainment. Thus, I made something that could—hopefully—provide some joy to my lord.⟩

⟨And the name of that project is . . . Terminus.⟩ he explained everything with an even emotionless tone, as my world crumbled apart from inside out.

⟨For that project, I needed a candidate, so I asked my lord to choose or create a candidate. He chose to create you, to add some spice to his life, and to change the 'end' he didn't like, He gave you knowledge upon birth. Knowledge far surpassing the current era. But as your feeble mind couldn't handle such knowledge at once, he made it so that it would 'pop' up in your mind from time to time.⟩

⟨Your goal is simple. Be the apex of this world, and your side goal is to dominate the world as an overlord. This would change the course of events and thus the 'end' my lord didn't like would be changed. Your journey alone would be enough to provide Lord Kismet his much-deserved Joy and entertainment.⟩

⟨This is your mission now, Aidan Cyrus. In this world, you are the protagonist; the chosen one. Forge a path through chaotic politics, troubled people, and deadly battlefields to stand at the top and become an overlord.⟩

At the end of his uh . . . speech? He roared in excitement while I was having a mental breakdown.

⟨After all, this is the only way your program will ever have a chance to survive. This special privilege has been granted to you by Kismet, The God of Fate. Make sure your actions in this world impress—and entertain—him, otherwise he will strip you of this opportunity and present it to another piece of code!⟩

⟨Good luck!⟩

His presence vanished and my mouth's muscles eased, leaving behind nothing but a simple question.

"I am nothing but a program?"

***

For the next hour or so my mind had been in a state of denial and was numb to even think about the situation.

As a thumping sound resounded, my vision automatically drew wherever that noise had come from.

The wall in front of the bed I was sitting on cracked like glass, it flickered and then vanished.

With the sound of footsteps, some people entered.

There were two men and three women. All wearing a simple black-themed skin-tight outfit. They seemed like soldiers, with daggers strapped to their sides and some weirdly shaped weapons.

'Guns?' I thought as the knowledge about guns 'popped' inside my mind.

As I was falling Into the pits of self-doubt and despair, a much older man walked in. With speed too fast for me to follow, he came near me, studying me up and down.

"Aidan Cyrus, I presume?" he said, sure of himself, and continued with his studying look.

I couldn't even form any coherent words so I just nodded slightly, as the sinking feeling In my heart and stomach grew.

The reality of whatever nonsense Mark had said was slowly seeping inside my mind.

I was scared. Scared to believe whatever Mark had said.

The world was a fake; my struggles were safe. I had nothing. I was nothing but entertainment in Kismet's eyes.

A wet sensation trickled down my face to my chin.

"Now, don't cry, don't be scared. I won't do anything." The old man said, mistaking my expression for that of a scared one.

Which wasn't totally wrong as I was scared, but not of him. Wait . . . Cry? I was crying.

Before I could think about the situation, a sob escaped my lips, leaving me stunned.

I . . . Was crying?

B-but why?

"Oh, where are my manners." The old man bowed slightly, "My name is Val Silver, and I will be your supervisor for the foreseeable future." He stated.

Then, standing straight, his gaze traveled all across my body, He dissected my whole body with his eyes.

"And you, Mr. Cyrus, will be our ticket to peace—to our own Ataraxis." He said, and the soldiers behind him straightened.

"Ataraxis!" They shouted in unison.

"W-wha-"

Before I could ask anything, I felt a stinging sensation wash over the back of my head as my vision darkened to unconsciousness.

***

I woke up to my own painful yelp.

Heaving up and down, I peered around.

I was . . . I was inside a white room. No furniture.

Just a white room of nothingness. The only indication that It was a room was the black lines lined in a squat fashion all across the room.

I stood, or more like, had tried to stand up. Only to find out that I was bound to the chair I was sitting on.

'Ropes.' I thought, feeling my hands tied with a rope behind my back.

I tried to break free, only to fail.

"You BASTARDS!" I roared. "Let me out of here!" I demanded, getting no reply whatsoever.

My face scrunched beyond belief and for the next half an hour or so, I tried every possible thing to get out of there.

Cursing their mother—which had always worked with the people I'd met before coming here in the 'tutorial'—was ineffective.

Nothing worked.

Just like that, two days had gone by with me doing nothing but sitting on the chair.

I couldn't move.

I was not in control.

Something I despised with a passion.

As I was sitting there listlessly, the ropes had unbound on their own.

I stood up from the chair and walked a few shaking steps before I fell face-first on the ground.

"urgh,"

I groaned out, trying to stand up. But my body seemed to refuse my commands; I did nothing but lie there on the ground.

I fell asleep just like that.

The next day, something changed. I woke up to the aroma of something delicious. Bolting up, I noticed a tray filled with some strange type of food . . . With a 'pop', the knowledge relating to the food came to be inside my mind.

Sandwich. That's what it was.

After eating like a maniac, I discovered that there was some furniture inside here. A simple white bed, a simple wooden chair painted white, a toilet in the corner, and a . . . bookshelf?

Confused, I walked up to it, picking up the first book.

[Basics of Computers]

The next was.

[Basics of C, C#, Java, and Python.] [Basics of Artificial Intelligence]

'What's going on?'

I didn't know shit.

As the reality of my situation dawned on me again, I threw away the books and laid down on the bed, screaming my heart out.

I was fake. Nothing but a piece of code for a god's entertainment.

Everyone else wasn't real. Everything was fake.

My mom, my sister, and my daughter. Everything. Everything and everyone was fake, and I couldn't handle such a stressful reality.

***

My days had been a blur, my mind was a mess, and three more days had passed. Maybe? I didn't know anymore. It was, all too . . . vague.

It was not until one more day, when I was on the brink of insanity did my supervisor—Val—came to give me a visit.

I stared at him. No emotion could be seen on his face. It was an unreadable page.

He walked forth towards me, a cane in his hand.

"I think you've had enough time to come terms with your 'reality', no?" he said, making me stiffen.

"Now," he stated, coldly. "Will you serve for our cause willingly . . . Or . . . " He left the threat to linger in the air.

I stared at his cold face, seemingly thinking. As he neared me a bit, I spat on his face.

"F*ck you! I'm not fake you b*tch!" I bellowed.

His face contorted into a scowl. Walking towards me calmly, he raised his cane and caressed my face.

"Such a pity I have to ruin this face of yours." He said as a painful sensation washed over me.

I tried shuffling through my pockets to find some Dor but . . . There were no pockets. No Dor.

"Damn it!" I croaked out a groan.

I cursed as another hit landed on my skull, sending me hurling a few feet.

As the pain assaulted my receptors, I felt another hit land. And for the next few minutes, I had the beating of a lifetime. But still, it was nothing compared to uncle Alaric's training.

A shame for Val, I supposed.

"Make him face me." Val ordered and a soldier pulled on my hair, just in time so that I could see the cane hit my face.

"Thu!" spitting out a tooth with some blood mixed within, I gave Val a toothy grin filled with blood.

"Is that all you've got, old man?"