A bright beam cut through the darkness, and murmurs closely followed.
Am I still... alive? Voices!
Deep, low voices echoed in a vast, unfamiliar expanse with shadows looming in the distance, obscured by an unnatural mist.
“That anima was impressive,” one voice remarked.
“Powerful,” another added.
“And full of love,” a third chimed in.
“Especially in its final moments,” a fourth voice observed.
“Its new world is fortunate to receive it,” said a fifth.
“But not all transposed animas reach their full potential, despite the advantages we give,” stated a sixth.
“Such a shame. But this last one...” a seventh trailed off.
“A magnificent one deserving of our best blessings,” an eighth affirmed.
“Yes,” a chorus of voices agreed.
“Indeed.”
“Assented.”
“An anima like that only comes once in an epoch.”
“We may never see another like it.”
“We did well.”
“Yet, there is still work to do. The animas never cease to come and go.”
“May the Eternal Aether receive greater anima.”
“Word.”
“Bring the next anima!”
A black, dense vapor arrived before the mysterious, shrouded beings, floating through the mist. Barely conscious, the new anima struggled with its incorporeal self, yet awakened enough to grasp its bizarre circumstances.
“What is this?” one of them asked.
“The next anima...” another of the beings replied.
“Oh, Arbiters, Beings of Light, fellow Gods reborn!” Disbelief filled the voice uttering such contrivances. “This can’t be!”
“Is this a joke?”
“Ah, fellow Great Ones, what is the meaning of... this?”
“Is someone playing with us, Sacred Arbiters?”
The chorus became outraged.
“Sacrilege!”
“Disgusting!”
“Evil!”
“Something.... is messing with our process!”
“Can we send it back, oh Beings of Light, fellow Gods reborn?”
“That would be the best—”
“No, once the process has started, there is no reversing it,” a deep voice enveloped the space.
“What are we to do then?”
“Pain, cruelty, betrayal, bloodshed, resentment, fear, misery, death... Too much evil left in its wake.”
What... is this? Are they talking about me?
[You recognize your legacy. I’m thrilled.]
Where are you?
The anima searched but couldn't locate its silhouette.
“What a mistake!”
“Foul animas like this one always go to the lower realms, never here!”
“Never!” the solemn chorus replied.
Silence fell, a moment of reflection.
“This is serious.”
“The delay of the process could cause the other animas to become unstable.”
“Higher Arbiter, our judgment is your judgment.”
“Yes,” came a chorus of agreement.
“So be it.”
“Assented.”
“Agreed.”
Are these... gods? Where am I? I don’t feel... my body.
Confusion and disorientation overwhelmed the unnoticed observer.
“What world awaits transposition?”
“Duello.”
"Such a fine world, not fit for this garbage anima. The mere possibility disgusts me."
"There isn't a single world that deserves this... thing." Distaste colored the expanse.
“Word.”
"We have no choice. We must send the anima to Duello," confirmed the one name Higher Arbiter.
A dissenting voice spoke up. "Arbiter! This anima can't—"
"I haven't finished!" exclaimed the Higher Arbiter. "The process is final. If this anima is here, it must be transposed. Was there a mistake, accidental or otherwise? Yes, there was! We've never received a rotten soul in this realm. They're sent to lower realms for proper disposal. And yet, this rancid one is here!"
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Yeah... show your true colors! Fucking gods they call themselves.
"This anima awaits its transposing, and we all know the consequences. This rotten soul will possess too much power to wield wherever it goes. Balance will be broken," the Higher Arbiter continued. "Transposition is the reward for the animas former lives. Are we to reward this... thing?"
"No!" the others cried in unison.
"Of course not!"
"Let’s dispose of it!"
The anima in question laughed to itself.
No wonder, if these are our gods... Can’t they hear me?
"Wait, fellow Arbiters, Beings of Light, Gods reborn. We can comply without endangering the balance further. What we can control is the status of this thing, how it transposes to Duello."
"That's true, High Arbiter," came a chorus of agreement.
“Yes!”
"Exactly!"
"Agreed."
"I leave this part of the process to all of you," concluded the Higher Arbiter.
"This.... thing should have no talents or skills, so it won't have any advantage from transposing."
“Good. Talentless and skilless!”
What...
“Note them, on the string of fate, oh scribe.”
...are these fucks...
“No progress whatsoever in its attributes, so it won’t overcome its disadvantages through sheer effort.”
...doing?!
“Permanent stats, noted.”
"What commendable efforts!”
“Only the best of us, Gods.”
“Though it's a shame we can't do anything about its memory from its previous life. It's an essential part of the process."
"Not all animas transpose with their minds intact, even with our best intentions," the Higher Arbiter said. "It’s an essential part of the process, their final test. Not too different from what we are trying to achieve here, and with the right measures in place... Listen. Defeat after defeat, it will have nowhere to retreat but into its own mind. It will spiral into insanity, trapped in endless mazes of its own creation, finally locking itself away inside its memories. A mind prison."
The resulting chorus made the void tremble.
Huh?
The strings of fate hummed, a silent witness to the discussion taking place.
What is this? What the fuck are you doing to me?! You bastards! Hear me out!
"Its transposition will work against itself?”
“Indeed.”
“A deserved punishment for its inflicted evil."
“Then I stand corrected."
"And there are always alternatives fellow Arbiters, we have to be creative.”
"We must make sure its body is weak, to prevent it from harming others."
“Noted.”
You damned gods weren’t satisfied with shitting my life once!
"There are different intelligent races in Duello. What shall we do about it?"
"Elf."
"The highly magical beings? We shouldn’t dare give this thing such power."
Don’t listen to that bitch ass god, yes, make me a... whatever the fuck it was!
“My fellow Arbiter is right. However, what if we made him an elf without magic?"
“An elf without magic in Duello?"
The Light Beings laughed in unison.
"What a fitting punishment. And it shall not only be an elf without magic in Duello, but also suffer from a degenerative disease to shorten its lifespan. And this thing shall be transposed into a human city. Race relationships between humans and elves are at an all-time low in Duello, it won't be in any position of power and its long lifespan will be mitigated by disease. Aren’t we magnificent?!"
Don't I have a say in this?! Ah! I want to kill you all! Fucking demons in disguise!
[You spit obscene curses at demons when you are one yourself.]
Shut the fuck up, this is my life, new life, or whatever we are talking about!
[We? It seems to me that they’re not taking your input.]
"Ugly as sin, no one will befriend him."
"There are good people in Duello, that may not work as well as my fellow Being of Light thinks."
"How to deal with it then?"
"Let it retain its graceful characteristics, but half its face will be repulsive. It will know what it had before, the loss forever imprinted on its ego... slowly consumed as it does evil, attracting one way and repelling the other, until it becomes black as his tainted soul."
This is beyond maddening...
"The process is almost complete. Any final considerations?"
Just end this farce, you fake gods!
"Heat intolerant."
Stop!
“Unable to swim.”
Really?! These putrid beings do everything to fuck me over yet shy from killing me themselves... What merciful gods indeed. It can’t go on like this; they’ve got to hear me! I gotta make it through and let my voice reach these stinking shitbags! Come on! I can do it! Move! Do something!
“Then, the process is complete—”
Aaaaarrgggghhhh!
“Wait Arbiters! The anima—!”
“It’s moving!”
"Impossible!”
"Words...?"
"Is it trying to communicate?"
"But it shouldn't have consciousness, just the essence of being!"
“What’s the meaning of this?!”
“Do we give him the time, Higher Arbiter?”
“Mistake that it is, trash as it might, if the anima wants to communicate...” spoke the Higher Arbiter to his fellows Beings of Light.
“Certainly!”
“Merciful!”
“We shall listen."
Silence spread. Shrouded in mystery, the Light Beings awaited communication.
“What is it... doing?”
The anima's form shifted, molding into something resembling a fist, with the middle finger raised in a universal and obscene gesture of defiance.
"Fuck you assholes, motherfucking demons!"
The anima's hateful words vibrated through the void.
“I’d say to you: ‘rot in hell’, but you cocksuckers are already—”
Its words ended abruptly.
Listen to me, you retarded beings! Doesn’t matter where you send me or what I become! My hate for you will never vanish! I won’t live under a cursed fate again!
"Higher Arbiter, before completing the process, I request to add one last line into the strings of fate: the anima shall not be able to swear ever again, not even have the thought cross its mind. If it does, a sharp stomach pain will remind it of us."
“Noted.”
“Go forth, oh anima, the Gods have decreed it to be so, your new life awaits!"
What is this light... warmth.
The anima was filled with a burst of light, before succumbing to darkness once more. Left with a sour taste in their spirits, the mysterious beings couldn't shake the questions that plagued their minds.
"Will it be alright?"
"This has never happened before!"
"It will be."
“Higher Arbiter.”
“Yes?”
"I fear we were too merciful..."