Ch2
Suzuki Satoru, or as he was known in the game, "Momonga," had been wandering throughout Nazarick while checking his HUD for any messages left to him by his guildmates. He had been left disappointed, however, and simply kept himself busy by reexploring the base that they had built.
Currently being on the 10th floor, he had taken a stroll through Ashurbanipal, the grand Library of Nazarick, and wallowedd in self-pity inside of the Lemegeton before recomposing himself in front of the Gates of Judgement. He had resigned himself to their absence and was now silently killing time. "Hmm, is that Albedo over there?" He noticed the figure standing close to the throne. The room was still shrouded in darkness, and he could change that with the Throne of Kings, but he wasn't going to do so in the last moments of the game. There was simply no point. He approached her and started scrolling through her backstory. He was just skimming over it because the absurd amount of lore that she had, courtesy of Tabula Smaragdina, was simply too much to finish in a few minutes. He saw a few details that raised his mood, one of which even got him to chuckle to himself. "And she is a bitch," he read aloud. "Really? You just couldn't help yourself, could you, Tabula?"
He was well aware of his friends' interests, but the abrupt way of putting it in the lore was still hilarious to him. "Well," he said while closing her tab. "I suppose most of us were quite the strange figures."
That was pretty accurate. Many figures in Ainz Ooal Gown had special habits or interests. "But it also is what made our time so fun..."
He exhaled. He wanted to stop thinking that way, lest he'd feel even worse. "I need to distract myself..." He hadn't even finished the sentence before teleporting into the Treasury of Nazarick. It was a gigantic place, a floor in its own right, with many different departments and vaults. He simply walked past everything, including his own creation, Pandora's Actor, although he noticeably accelerated in his vicinity. Mentally groaning about his creation and cursing out his old self, he started taking items and simply tested them out. There had been many different items in Yggdrasil that were capable of feats that magic could not achieve. Sword with special abilities, summons only summonable by scrolls or items, and many different things. He considered playing around with the World Items a bit but dismissed the idea. He already had the staff, and there were many little items that had diverse and fun abilities, although they often proved to be less than useful.
The amount of money he had put into the game had been immense, and the number of items he had and spells he had was far more than average. There had been special spells that you could only have if you paid for them (no matter how great the game was, it was still pay-to-win), and pay he certainly did. Frankly, the number of spells he had was nowhere near as much as the magic items, but it was still far too many for his human mind to use effectively. He had always been focused on the stronger spells, such as [reality slash, or the problem solver known as [nuclear blast].
And the other spells usually weren't worth it due to the shitty devs incapability of the myth known as "balancing the game." These spells had, however, cool visual effects, which is why this roleplay-loving overlord just had to hoard them, even though there were spells he had never cast a single time in his life.
He kept going through everything for a while, until the timer hit 23:56, at which point he teleported back to the throne room. What kind of overlord would he be if he wouldn't be sitting on his throne during his guild's final moments?
"Not a good one, that's for sure." He chuckled while watching over the empty hall. The timer had hit 23:58, and the Overlord simply sat on his throne. Unmoving, lost in memories, and unaware of what was to come.
Another minute passed. It was strange. Ainz could swear that his life was flashing before his eyes, as he remembered every moment he had shared in Yggdrasil. Was it even possible to remember that vividly?
Another 15 seconds passed as his mind grew hazy.
They really had shown them. Those cursed seraphs and those puny humans who had tried to take over his Tomb…
...
...
His tomb?
...
...
Puny Humans?
Another 15 seconds passed.
He shook his head, chuckling.
"12 years of roleplaying really did a number on me, didn't they?"
Yet he felt strange. The haze on his mind had changed to an empty numbness. It wasn't unpleasant, he could still think, but it felt like all his pent-up anger had simply disappeared. He started feeling cold.
"Haah, classic symptoms of sleep deprivation... I won't need long to fall asleep after this." 15 more seconds passed. He felt calm, even when his ability to see seemed to dim.
The timer hit 23:59:50.
His body felt cold and lifeless.
In a room upon the 64th floor of an apartment complex for the 8th class residents, there was a body. The eyes of that person were devoid of light, dreams, and life. It was a scene all too common for the cleanup teams, who were handling the bodies, and the fact that it had not been due to injuries or a heart attack made them write it off as suicide.
In an office at home for the 6th class workers sat a man. He had been investigating the death of Satoru Suzuki, as his job dictated. It wasn't anything new to him; suicide was common for those below the 7th class. He had just finished listening to the recording of the VR device that had been on Satoru Suzuki during his death, so he leaned back and started daydreaming.
"A blue sea, huh?"