Iblis rose from his seat, his form seeming to expand and fill the room with roiling shadows.
"I'll go first, shall I?
Oh, the delicious irony of using humanity's greatest monsters to seal its fate."
With a series of dramatic gestures, Iblis began to call forth his champions.
Each name he spoke caused ripples in the fabric of reality, as if the weight of their infamy could distort time and space itself.
"Alexander the Great," Iblis intoned, and a figure materialized in the air before them.
The legendary conqueror, his eyes burning with resentment and thwarted ambition. "Betrayed by those he trusted most.
His thirst for conquest will now be fueled by misanthropy."
"Julius Caesar," came the next name, bringing forth the image of the Roman leader, his face twisted in a sneer of contempt. "Murdered by his closest allies. He'll teach Naaim the true meaning of betrayal."
Khaliq watched silently, his golden eyes reflecting a deep sadness as Iblis continued.
"Jesus Christ." This pronouncement brought a collective gasp from unseen cosmic observers.
The figure that appeared bore little resemblance to the serene savior of Christian iconography.
This Jesus radiated bitter disappointment and cynicism. "Disillusioned by humanity's failure to live up to his teachings.
His love turned to wrath will be a sight to behold."
"Genghis Khan." The Mongol warlord materialized, his presence alone seeming to make the air tremble with barely contained violence. "His hatred for the weak will find fertile ground in Naaim."
"Nero." The Roman emperor appeared, his eyes glazed with hedonistic madness. "He'll teach those pitiful humans the true meaning of decadence and cruelty."
"Elizabeth Báthory." The infamous 'Blood Countess' shimmered into view, her beauty belying the sadistic hunger in her eyes. "Her thirst for youth and beauty will bring exquisite suffering."
"And finally," Iblis said, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper, "Napoleon Bonaparte."
The French emperor appeared, his gaze burning with megalomaniacal fervor.
"His ambition will set Naaim ablaze."
As the last figure faded, Iblis turned to Khaliq with a triumphant smirk. "Your move, brother.
Though I doubt even your vaunted wisdom can counter such a lineup."
Khaliq rose slowly, his movements deliberate and graceful.
When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of eons, each word resonating with quiet power.
"You mistake notoriety for strength, Iblis.
True power lies not in the ability to destroy, but in the courage to create, to inspire, to lead by example."
With a wave of his hand, Khaliq began to summon his own champions.
"Miyamoto Musashi." The legendary swordsman appeared, his stance relaxed yet alert, wisdom gleaming in his eyes. "His strategic mind and indomitable spirit will be a beacon to the people of Naaim."
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"Sun Tzu." The ancient Chinese strategist materialized, radiating an aura of calm calculation. "His insights into the nature of conflict will prove invaluable."
"Niccolò Machiavelli." The Italian philosopher took form, his sharp gaze taking in everything around him. "His understanding of power dynamics will be crucial in navigating the complexities of Naaim's societies."
"Nostradamus." The enigmatic seer appeared, his eyes seeming to look beyond the present moment. "His foresight will help guide our efforts through the tumultuous times ahead."
"Sir Henry Morgan." The privateer-turned-governor shimmered into existence, a roguish grin on his face. "His adaptability and charisma will rally the downtrodden to our cause."
As the last figure faded, Iblis frowned, counting on his fingers. "That's only five, brother. Have you lost your nerve?"
Khaliq shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, Iblis.
As we agreed, my sixth champion will be chosen at the moment our game begins.
A wildcard, selected from among the inhabitants of The Present Earth itself."
Iblis threw back his head and laughed, the sound a discordant clash of shattering stars. "Oh, Khaliq!
Always the optimist.
You would place your faith in some random mortal?
Very well, it will make my victory all the sweeter."
"We shall see," Khaliq replied calmly. "Often, it is those we least expect who rise to greatness when challenged."
Iblis waved a dismissive hand, already turning away. "Platitudes, brother.
Your philosophizing won't save you this time.
I look forward to watching your champions - and your precious faith in humanity - crumble to dust."
As Iblis sauntered towards the door, his form beginning to dissolve into wisps of shadow and flame, he called over his shoulder, "Good luck, Khaliq.
You're going to need it."
With a final chuckle that echoed like distant thunder, Iblis vanished, leaving Khaliq alone in the cosmic office.
For a long moment, Khaliq stood motionless, his golden eyes unfocused as he gazed into realms beyond mortal comprehension.
Then, with a small sigh, he returned to his desk, waving a hand to bring up a shimmering view of Naaim.
"Now," he murmured to himself, "to find our wildcard."
Khaliq's consciousness expanded, sweeping across the surface of Naaim like a gentle breeze.
He touched countless minds, tasting their hopes, their fears, their deepest desires.
He sought something special, a spark of potential that could be fanned into a world-changing flame.
Hours or eons passed - time held little meaning in this realm - as Khaliq continued his search.
Just as he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in his wager with Iblis, he felt it.
A cry of anguish and defiance that pierced through the cosmic veil, resonating with raw emotion and untapped power.
Khaliq's focus sharpened, homing in on the source of that desperate plea.
He saw a man lying broken on a cold street, blood pooling beneath him.
But it was not the man's physical state that caught Khaliq's attention.
It was the fire in his soul, the sudden, violent transformation from a being of peace to one consumed by a desire for change - at any cost.
"Atenzi," Khaliq whispered, the name coming to him unbidden. "You who have walked the path of peace and now stand at the crossroads of destiny.
You shall be our wildcard."
With infinite gentleness, Khaliq reached out across the cosmos, preparing to pluck Atenzi from his world and set him on a path that would change the fate of Naaim - and perhaps the entire Universe X.
As he did so, a small smile played across Khaliq's lips. "The game begins, brother," he murmured. "And I think you may find this particular pawn is not so easily sacrificed."
With that, Khaliq set in motion events that would shake the foundations of Naaim and test the very limits of free will, destiny, and the eternal dance between creation and destruction.
The cosmic wager was on, and the fate of an entire universe hung in the balance.
Now, you might wonder, why exactly were these particular souls chosen by Iblis and Khaliq?
Well, dear reader, therein lies a twist of cosmic irony.
You see, the Seven Harbingers - those now aligned with Iblis - once loved humanity with a passion that burned brighter than supernovae.
But each, in their own time and way, suffered betrayals so profound, so shattering, that their love curdled into a hatred as vast as the void between stars.
They are the scorned lovers of humankind, their faith twisted into a desire for vengeance that spans millennia.
The Luminaries of Providence, on the other hand, walk a path illuminated by hope's fragile light.
They too have tasted the bitter draught of human betrayal, felt the sting of ingratitude and the crush of disillusionment.
Yet, in the face of humanity's flaws, they found not despair, but possibility.
These are the ones who looked into the abyss of human nature and chose to build bridges rather than burn them.
Their power lies not in their invulnerability to pain, but in their capacity to forge meaning from suffering, to transmute disappointment into determination.
In this cosmic game, then, we witness not just a battle of good versus evil, but a war between cynicism and optimism, between those who would punish humanity for its failures and those who would guide it towards its potential.
And caught in the middle?
Our wildcard, Atenzi, whose own journey from peace to power may well tip the scales of this celestial wager.