Darkness—unending darkness. That was all his eyes could perceive. Steven's soul drifted through the void, suspended in the absolute nothingness that was said to be the Fallen Realm of the Gods.
For what felt like minutes—no, gnawing hours—he floated there, weightless and numb, unable to think, unable to even form coherent thoughts. Time itself seemed meaningless in this place. Then, suddenly, awareness snapped back into him.
Steven's eyes widened in realization, his gaze instinctively turning as though he expected to see something—anything—within the darkness. But there was nothing. Absolute, suffocating nothingness. The realization stunned him even further, leaving his mind reeling as it struggled to process the emptiness surrounding him.
A lump formed in his throat as a dreadful notion struck him.
He was supposed to entertain a sponsor… in this.
What dumbstruck luck, he mused internally, his brows furrowing as he craned his neck around despite knowing there was nothing to see. And then—
Chime.
The sound echoed unnaturally through the darkness, followed by a faint grey light blooming before his eyes. It hovered in the void like a dying star, barely illuminating anything beyond itself.
Steven's gaze locked onto the forming image as a translucent, holographic notification stabilized before him. Its glow was low and muted, just enough to make his own faint outline barely visible.
He leaned forward instinctively and began to read.
{Welcome to the Realm of Entry}
{Name: Steven ---}
{You have been chosen}
Steven's eyes widened in shock as the words etched themselves into his mind. His lips parted as he instinctively repeated, "Chosen?"
The word felt heavy—absurd even. Was this real? Or some twisted mistake playing with his senses?
Another line appeared.
{Your Sponsor}
{Name: Sponsor wishes to remain a mystery}
{Mission: Remains unchanged… Entertain your Sponsor}
Steven's eyes peeled open even further, his throat going dry as his hands rose instinctively in bewilderment. This isn't possible, he thought.
The Marked were meant to enter a recorded history of the realm—observed, judged, and only then sponsored by a deity who took interest over time.
So how did he—someone who had barely entered the realm, who hadn't even spent a full day within it—already have a sponsor?
And worse… from doing absolutely nothing?
Steven was taken aback, his thoughts spiraling as unease settled deep within his chest. More troubling possibilities surfaced one after another.
If he already had a sponsor, then why was his mission still the same? Why did he still have to entertain one?
How tedious.
'Does that mean… now that I already have a sponsor, I only need to entertain him to escape this realm?'
The logic felt warped.
If it were a benevolent deity, then joy, hope, or happiness would earn favor. A chaos deity would demand disorder, bloodshed, or madness. But this—
He didn't even know who his sponsor was.
This was truly mundane… and unsettling.
"I'm guessing you're a trickster," Steven muttered, letting his attention drift to the empty darkness on his right as he sighed listlessly.
Chime.
{Your Sponsor is amused}
{You have been rewarded}
{Would you like to view your rewards before entering the Realm of Entry?}
Steven stiffened.
He preferred knowledge over surprises. If he was being thrown into a realm with unknown dangers, then knowing his strengths beforehand was essential. Without hesitation, he willed the system to comply.
Another sequence of chimes rang out as the interface shifted.
{Rewards}
{Limitless Undead System}
{Dimensional Store}
{Astral Chat}
Steven's face paled.
A fresh wave of veneration washed over him—not from excitement, but from fear. Fear born from a single, horrifying question.
Who the hell is my sponsor?
Receiving a system before even entering the first realm was unheard of. And not just any system—but one named Limitless Undead. Coupled with two additional rewards whose implications alone were staggering.
This wasn't generosity, surely this was something far more dangerous.
Moments later, the initial rush of awe dulled, replaced by clarity. And with that clarity came dread.
If he was being given this much power for just this realm… then the Realm of Entry wouldn't be simple.
It would be hell.
Steven attempted to interact with the notifications, tapping at the floating interface with trembling, malnourished fingers, hoping for further details. Nothing happened.
'I guess that's all the information I'm getting,' he concluded grimly.
He withdrew his hand and inhaled deeply, forcing himself to steady his racing heart. Slowly, he exhaled, knowing exactly what came next.
In a low whisper, he said, "Take me to the Realm of Entry."
{Request Accepted}
{Realm of Entry — Fated Colosseum}
---
Steven's vision blurred violently, his senses fragmenting as though torn apart and stitched back together. Slowly, painfully, his eyes began to refocus.
A dim, faint orange glow greeted him.
He couldn't smell anything. His body felt numb—cold, sore, and unfamiliar. His ears rang with a deafening emptiness, broken only by the distant crackle of flame.
It felt like a game—like a forced integration into a world not meant for him.
Except this wasn't a game.
Finally, clarity returned.
Steven's eyes locked onto obsidian bars, roughly forged and cold, their surface uneven as though hastily crafted. Beyond them lay walls of dark brick, aged and cracked, with wooden torches mounted sporadically, their flames casting erratic shadows.
Wooden torches.
Then he noticed something else.
He was swaying.
Not by his own will—but suspended.
'What the hell is going on?' he thought sharply, his gaze snapping downward in panic.
What he saw stole his breath.
The horrifying realization of what was being done to his body sent his heart into a frenzy.
He was hanging in midair.
Below him stood a scruffy old man—unkempt and grotesque. His posture was hunched unnaturally, his long white hair matted and tangled, cascading in filthy waves down his back and face. He wore nothing but torn trousers, exposing a frame of brittle bones wrapped in thin, parchment-like flesh.
This frail creature—this thing—had its hands locked around Steven's bare foot.
And his mouth—
His mouth was wide open, yellowed teeth clamped down onto Steven's toes, pressing with brutal intent to tear them off in one savage bite.
"Arrrghhhhh!" Steven shrieked in agony, jerking his leg back violently.
But the grip was far stronger than the man's appearance suggested. The bony fingers tightened around his foot, the teeth sinking deeper into flesh.
Steven clenched his teeth, pain exploding through his nerves as he pulled his other leg back and kicked forward with everything he had.
The blow connected.
The cannibalistic man was sent crashing backward, landing hard on his bottom with a howl of pain, releasing Steven's foot as he clawed at his shattered face.
Steven was free from the immediate agony of being eaten alive.
But the danger hadn't ended.
The moment the man released him, reality struck.
Without the creature supporting his weight—even unintentionally—Steven was left fully suspended.
The rope around his neck connected to the top of the cage tightened.
It dug into his flesh mercilessly, cutting off his air in an instant.
Steven clawed at his throat, both hands reaching desperately for the thin rope, but every movement only made it worse. Each second, it felt as though the rope was sawing deeper into his skin.
Pain jolted through his body in blinding waves.
He kicked wildly, legs flailing in blind panic, desperately trying to find something—anything—to stand on.
There was nothing.
Nothing to save him.
He was going to die. Either by getting suffocated slowly, Or with his throat torn open.
And below him, the monstrous old man was already beginning to stir.
Either way—Steven was going to die.
//Author's note//
Thanks for join us on this journey, please your power stones and reviews will be very much needed. Please support.