People were pawns. That’s what it meant to stand at the pinnacle of existence. Power gave you the right to do as you pleased because realistically, who was going to stop you? Thousands of worlds tried to rise to power millennia after millennia and yet nothing could reach him. In the end it was a boring infinite existence with no risk of death for him.

That’s when he decided to make things interesting, what could be more fun to a being such as himself then a game of chance? His life would be on the line, and he would select the players for the game. The players would have to be random so it was fair, if they defeated him in the game then he would die. While they would never be able to kill him, he would set forth the karmic contract so that if the game ended against his favor, then his core would shatter.

This was true excitement, playing with his life on the line after so long. Even if he lost, at the very least he would get some entertainment out of his actions. Gods like him truly had nothing better to do. The choice was made; he would choose to pit three worlds against each other. He would bet on the winner and if the world he chose won then he would live. However, if either of the other two worlds won then he would die.

In truth there was no grand scheme or great plan for the universe and all its inhabitants. Everything was done on the spot with a whim, the life that flourished on many planets were in fact just accidents. Time and time again he watched as planets rose in power just to crumble to dust in the end. Perhaps the next best thing might just to start one of those endings. If he wanted the players to take this game seriously, then there needed to be stakes that would affect them in the worst of ways.

In truth, motivating someone was easy. All you needed to do was hold the carrot in front of them that would make them act. In this case, the carrot would be everyone’s lives. Despite himself, the god felt himself smiling, greatly anticipating the coming years. It would be more fun though, if players from across the multiverse were able to get involved in these games. It would truly be a shame if someone were to miss out on the excitement that he was creating.

The god scrolled through worlds as if they were market shelves, his eyes scanning them for anything worthwhile or entertaining. Finally, his eyes landed on a small dirt planet. A planet full of weak insignificant beings with no power at all. This planet was called earth.

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Cyrus had long since changed from the person he was on earth. Getting this far was due to the people around him, coupled with a shit ton of luck and a hint of advice.

But mostly luck.

The sword in his hand was dripping fresh crimson blood off the tip. The blood itself did not come from just one person of course, the room he found himself in was littered with bodies. No rise could be seen from a single chest to indicate a single one of them was alive, then again that was kind of the point. He hadn’t always been a killer; no fault could be found in anyone except the people that betrayed him.

A slight groan elicited from the man his boot was resting calmly on. There was a slight lie, there was one soul living in the room besides himself. Though that would change very quickly of course, he had mainly been referring to the future. The man below him was one of many worshippers who revered a being call the Bastion, the very same being that he had a grudge match with. As such, anyone who sided with the Bastion had to be killed. No negotiation needed.

The man under his boot had been quite resilient, no matter how many times he was cut, stabbed, and healed his mouth remained closed. While some could call it pain resistance it was more like dedication. The worshippers seemed to have quite literally undying loyalty towards the Bastion, no matter what Cyrus did the man would not say a damn word.

‘How frustrating’ he thought to himself.

Seeing as there was no use in wasting time torturing the man any further, letting him live would be just as bad. A flick of his wrist and that was all it took; the carpet being stained with red and another dead body. This hadn’t been an entire waste of time however, hunting down worshippers of the Bastion was enough of a gift on its own. There would always be more, until there were none left to find.

The door opened amidst his thoughts; four others entered the room with masks on but all of another species. None of them were the same in a single way, except they all shared the same goal.

Save the world? Nothing so heroic or generic such as that, they were anything but saviors. The number of dead surrounding them and the house that reeked of blood was proof of that. Rather, it was more a tale of revenge and hatred that wrapped them together. Though their methods were entirely different, behind one mask Cyrus could see her wince at the slaughter befalling her sight. The other three did not flinch, as he imagined they each did the same while dissecting the mansion of any further insects.

“Where to next boss? The nobles will hear about this again.” A large demon asked, his gloved hands covered in dried blood and whatever else came from the human body.

A wicked smile crossed his face, anticipation building up after all this time. “Who else is left but the king?” He looked at his companions, none flinching at his order. “Let’s stage a coup.”

So they did.