Prologue

The world burned. That seemed to be all it did, these days. The Reborn were systematically destroying everything they'd once been charged with protecting. Not a soul would be safe from them - they'd already proved they could and would end the divine, they truly had no boundaries left.

And I was fed up with it. Gone were the days of good versus evil, now it was the bad versus the depraved… no positive outcome remained.

Save one, perhaps. I'd found a duo, linked at birth across continents. A pair who brought light to each other's lives, and   maybe - with a little luck - they could do the same to everyone else.

They just needed the right push…

“Finally, the capital falls.” announced Aratesh, turning to face the amassed Fallen. He knew them all, to some degree. Names, hobbies, usefulness… “Despite that divine fool's best efforts, we now own this world. And with a base of operations secured, we shall extend our reach into the greater universe!”

The cheers would have deafened nearby creatures - if any remained.

The Gods’ Dwelling had been oddly silent for the last few days… almost as if they were no longer there to give advice. But surely there must be another reason, puzzled the High Priestess. The divine forces by which the world turned could not simply vanish. There would be an explanation, undoubtedly. Perhaps they were busy - the day of Walpurgis was fast approaching after all, and all Great Spirits needed to prepare.

Still, the lack of communication worried Xymla. She would try to contact one of the gods today; even if it was an exercise in futility, it was better than sitting around being paranoid.

It had to be worth a try.

Zyphyr shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe so much had happened in such a short time. It felt like only yesterday he was waking up in a new world, and today he was conquering it - or helping to, at least. He had quickly become Aratesh’s right hand man, thanks to his Skill. Sure, they all had one, but Zyphyr’s was the strongest of the lot. After all, how do you counter a strike that ignores the physical world?

Actually, now that he thought about it, he'd never seen Aratesh use his Skill… did he even have one? Was it embarrassingly weak? Or… was it so strong that he'd never had a reason to use it?

There he stood, arms spread wide as he hyped the crowd up. Everyone here was a Reincarnater, like him. They'd all been sent to deal with Aratesh, and yet here they all stood, supporting him. Because the gods had lied; and they'd been punished for that. 

The time was fast approaching. I could feel their natural lives coming to a close. I would need to be quick, to take their souls and bring them to this world, before they passed on. It was always difficult to transfer people so young, with such weightless souls unburdened by guilt and grief and hatred.

But I would manage. I'd done so before, I would do so again.