Dreams are ethereal, cosmic exclusive invitations, taking the form of small, azure orbs that shimmer with a soft, starlit luminescence.
These orbs contained mysterious portal domains inhabited by any of the unknown Forces— the architects of these Games, who observe, evaluate, and scrutinize those who played their Games.
And owning one meant two things. Either an invitation of praise, when one was worthy enough to meet them, or a confrontational encounter.
Fèi Míng's hands hovered over the orb. His poor little room reeked of dust. The rusty roof pans sagged beneath the woods used, enough for a strong breeze to collapse them.
The bed was crusted, the thin mattress wonky in a way, the middle of the foam dipped from his own weight.
He leaned back, letting the orb roll between his fingers, turning it over, feeling the faint warmth through the skin.
Dreams aren't rewards, nor are they prizes won in a Game. Did one of the forces controlling these Games slipped this invitation through in disguise of a "prize"?
Breaking the orb served as an irrevocable acceptance of the invitation.
It triggered a transcendental transference of one's consciousness to a different realm beyond the mortal coil, where the invitee would come face-to-face with the Force responsible for extending the invitation.
Usually, anyone receiving this exclusive invitation would be thrilled to meet a cosmic entity.
But… Fèi Míng tilted his head. It didn't come as an invitation, rather a 'prize' he had won.
They'd throw anything in the box for me, and now some cosmic voodoo pulls this shit.
None of my probabilities add up.
He propped himself on the elbow of one arm, sandals scuffed and patched, toes curling against the splintered wood floor.
He could break it. Or not.
The idea of breaking it made his stomach tighten. He wasn't sure what to expect. Did my last game performance change their mind? He rotated the orb, letting the faint glow play across the edges of his eyes.
"Why would I get an invitation? I thought my presence wasn't entertaining enough to even gain a useful skill," he muttered. His voice softly echoed in the room.
...but…
What's the worst that could happen?
Fèi Míng let the orb fall from his hand, watching its descent with a quiet stillnes.
The orb struck the ground, then a burst of hard, violent light exploded into blue particles erupting in every direction.
The flash punched into his vision and left it drenched, so absolute that his pupils shrank to needles. Ack!
His head jerked back as vertigo dragged his balance sideways; one hand clamped the edge of the mattress, nails biting into the foam, while the other hovered uselessly in the air, trying to steady himself against a world that had already disappeared.
Everything detonated, and the pressure hit his eardrums first, then his ribs, expanding his lungs involuntarily before forcing the air out in a wheeze that scraped his throat raw.
When the world contracted again, the blue vanished just as fast, dropping him into a void.
His back hit a surface he could not see. It was smooth under his palms when he pushed himself up, cold enough to make the hairs on his arms rise.
He looked around. The darkness crowded in on every side. Where am I?
Fèi Míng turned back, and three golden eyes opened before him at once.
They were round, large, spaced in a way that confirmed immediately this thing hovering above him was a cosmic entity. And the light they gave off neither flicker nor pulse.
It simply existed for him to note that the darkness around him felt intentional.
The voice that followed was viewed in Fèi Míng's mind as low-frequency vibration first, then a perfectly measured voice drummed in his ears.
[ "Any less hesitation and I may have dragged you myself," ] they said.
Fèi Míng sat there with his legs folded loosely beneath him, breathing slowed now.
His head lifted, gaze angled upward but largely unimpressed, his eyes slightly narrowed in sequential assessment of the 'Force' before him.
He looked like a pebble compared to this mighty entity.
"So, why did you sneak in an invitation to a low humble thief like me? Have my last game entertained you? If yes,"
Fèi Míng stretched out his palm. "...then give me a useful skill, not like the shits you've gifted after I won two Games," he said with an air of blunt resignation, all while pulling himself fully upright.
The entity's eyes tilted a fraction.
["What a dirty mouthed being. Most players would grovel to have an encounter with a cosmic god. Why the bitter heart?"]
"I am not." He frowned, his eyes tracking the three suns of its non-existent face. "I want a useful skill. And a Path."
What Fèi Míng hid from everyone was…
He had won two of these weekly games.
Two of which he barely survived.
And neither of these two games was he given a Path.
A Path was always granted to a player, that won the favour of these forces, dictating the nature of their abilities, the resource fueling them, and the escalating cost their body and mind pays as they ascend through it,
and while most players received one as a reward, some claw into a Path later through skills or invitations granted by the Game's interested Forces, each Path carrying a clear theme, method, power source, and consequences.
Suddenly, Fei Ming found himself bare. His clothes laid on the floor behind him. He quickly looked down, heaving a small sigh of relief when he saw his pants still intact.
The realm brightened, as though a moon shone in the background.
His torso was covered in several jagged deep gashes and visible cut marks. A circular pink burn mark marred the skin beneath his chest, and a large, raised scar, several inches long, ran horizontally across his stomach, the tissue thick and discolored, with stitch marks still visible along its edges.
"Why am I half naked? And why do you call me if not to bless me with a Path? About time."
[ "I have no fault as to why the other Forces refused to grant you a Path. Your ways of survival were subtle, yet entertaining for me," ] they replied.
Their third eye separated from the rest, hovering over Fèi Míng, squinting in pure delightment.
[ "Dysfunctional in the head. You enjoy death scenes orchestrated by you. Manipulating a young boy to die in your place…" ]
[ "Ah~ what more could i ask? You're perfect!" ]
"I know. Have you called me here to chat? Or grant me the Sovereign Path." His lips pulled into a thin, offset smile.
The second eye twitched, and Fèi Míng felt a rush of warm heat spread to his face.
[ "Your ego amuses me... But you see, only I, RiaKai, the Third Master of Continuum and Game Sequence, enjoy your plays." ]
"So?" Fateless asked, rubbing his thumb against his own index finger.
The three golden eyes narrowed down to him.
[ "The rest despise you." ]
His heart jolted, skipping one full beat before slamming back into rhythm. What?
[ "Do you know why your given name "Fateless" was granted to you?" ]
Their speech slowed, the pitch descending by one full octave.
[ "'Fateless' was not given lightly. From the moment of your birth, you were deemed without destiny nor significance, and thus discarded. Every one of us—including myself—regarded you as useless." ]
Eyes watery, Fateless sunk down to his knees. What? This… was a confrontational encounter?
[ "And no matter how victorious you are in any Game, you, Fateless, would forever be fateless." ]
Clamping a hand over his chest, the heat intensified. It seeped into him, spreading beneath the surface of his skin as it pressed upward through his ribs, pushing against the inside of his sternum as though his own blood had chosen to boil out of spite.
What's this feeling?
His breathing became hot, and soon enough, he had difficulty sucking in air back to his lungs. His eyes red, and puffy. Of all four Paths… "I have… none?"