The floor shattered beneath his feet.
Light fractured like broken glass, and Kairos plummeted into the abyss, swallowed by a tunnel of stars and void.
For a moment, there was no up or down, only the sensation of endless falling. His body was weightless, his locs whipping around him as golden beads caught flashes of cosmic light. The infinity mark on his forehead pulsed faintly, guiding him through the dark.
Kairos tilted his head mid-fall, his voice casual despite the chaos.
"Well, guess gravity still works here. Good to know."
The abyss responded with silence—at least, until the echoes began.
Voices of the Chosen
Whispers brushed against him, not from his own mind, but from the others falling alongside him, scattered across the infinite darkness.
"I'll build an empire of fire. The world will bow."
"My kingdom will rise from steel and blood."
"No god will stand against my light."
Each voice was raw with ambition, greed, or desperation. Some were trembling with fear. Others burned with rage.
"I didn't ask for this! Send me back!"
"I'll kill anyone who tries to take what's mine!"
Kairos smirked, hands folded behind his head as he drifted lazily through the void.
"Yep. Global chat never changes. Half noobs screaming, half wannabe pros flexing. Let's see how long they last."
The whispers thickened, overlapping into a storm of declarations, vows, and threats. They filled the abyss with hunger. Hunger for power. Hunger for survival. Hunger for the Thrones.
His Own Thoughts
Kairos let them wash over him, unbothered. The fear, the anger, the greed—none of it surprised him.
Gods, huh?
The word still felt strange. Yesterday, he was a twenty-year-old loser with an impressive snack pile and zero future. Now? He had tattoos that moved like snakes across his skin, an infinity symbol glowing on his head, and powers that warped reality.
He should have been scared. He should have been panicking like the rest.
But instead, he felt something he hadn't felt in years.
Excitement.
His lips curled into a grin. "Finally, something worth grinding for."
The Warning
The abyss shifted. The Entity's voice returned, faint this time, as though fading with distance.
"Remember, Chosen Divinities… this is no game. This is your reality. The Thrones are the pinnacle of power, but never safety. Those who sit upon them will forever be hunted. Ambition has no end."
The words lingered, heavy and eternal. Then the voice vanished completely, leaving only the fall.
Kairos clicked his tongue. "So basically: no respawns, no patches, no dev support. Just pure survival. My kind of game."
A Glimpse of Others
As he fell, shapes flickered in the abyss. For a split second, he saw other candidates drifting through parallel streams of light—each one pulled toward their own realm.
A boy wrapped in fire, screaming as flames consumed him.
A girl with crystalline wings, sobbing as frost spread across her body.
A man laughing madly as lightning split the void around him.
Dozens, hundreds, each marked by their dominion. Each heading toward their fate.
Kairos watched them with mild curiosity. "So that's the roster, huh? Some flashy effects. Wonder how many will actually survive past the tutorial."
The Pull of His Realm
Suddenly, the abyss tugged at him. Serpents of shadow slithered out of the void, coiling around his arms and chest. Their golden eyes gleamed as they pulled him downward, deeper than the others.
The tattoos on his body writhed in response, glowing faintly as if alive. The infinity symbol on his forehead blazed brighter.
Kairos arched a brow. "Oh great, snakes. Definitely not ominous at all."
Yet despite his sarcasm, he didn't resist. The pull felt… natural. Like the abyss was his to command, even as it swallowed him whole.
A World Taking Shape
The void around him cracked.
Pieces of reality peeled away like shards of glass, revealing glimpses of what lay ahead. A barren wasteland, scorched and broken. Rivers of black mist winding like serpents across the land. A sky torn between endless night and flashes of purple lightning.
It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't welcoming.
It was chaos, void, and rebirth—a realm that reflected him.
Kairos whistled low. "Well… it ain't exactly five-star real estate. But hey, at least it's mine."
The serpents pulled harder, dragging him toward the surface of his domain.
The Landing
He slammed into the ground with a thunderous impact, dust and shadow exploding outward. The barren earth cracked beneath his feet. Serpents of mist slithered from the fissures, coiling around him as if greeting their master.
Kairos rose, brushing off his arms with a lazy grin.
"Not bad. Needs a little landscaping, maybe a snack bar. But overall? Solid atmosphere."
He looked around. The realm stretched endlessly, desolate and hostile. But it was alive in its own way—whispering, breathing, waiting for him to shape it.
For the first time in years, Kairos felt a spark of determination.
This was no game. This was his reality now.
And reality had finally become fun.