Chapter 16: The Game

Those words came like a whisper, but were filled with such overwhelming weight that they actually knocked me to the ground. I knew there was something sentient behind this loop. There had to be, given how utterly specific some of its rules were.

Thus, I had expected something to respond to my ridiculous rant, but I had vastly underestimated what it would be. I expected a trickster spirit or a powerful spellcaster, but as soon as it spoke, I realized there was only one name for a being like this. He was a god, and there was only one male god worshipped in this world.

“Logos,” I whispered in awe.

“Hello, child,” he whispered back. His words carried no less weight, but they seemed somehow more relaxed. “I’m sure you have a great many questions about this game of ours.”

There it was, the confirmation I’d been looking for. This was a game, not the world of a game that I’d been reborn into, but instead, an actual game I was now playing for someone else’s amusement. The idea had seemed ridiculous at first, but the prince’s actions had convinced me.

He always managed to find me so easily whenever I fled or skipped the party, as if he knew exactly where I was. I had initially attributed this to some kind of tracking spell placed on myself or the academy, but something about it felt so familiar. Only once I began reminiscing about my history making games did I finally realize why. It was a scripted event, a sequence triggered by a specific condition. In this case, as soon as I diverged from the proper order of events, the prince would immediately move to my location and kill me. The game’s programming ensured that the prince would find me no matter where I went or what I did. Escape was impossible unless I played the game as it was intended, which left me with just one question.

“How do I win?”

“A well-reasoned question,” he replied, still sounding cold, but with the slightest hint of acknowledgement. Given that he is the god of logic, I suspect he was impressed by my asking something rational instead of emotional. Of course, I was emotional in this moment, but I pushed my feelings back as I did not know how long he’d humor me. “The answer is both simple and complex. You must only survive the night, and while there is an intended path for you to follow, it is not the only path available to you.”

Yeah, that was quite the info dump, but to summarize it all up: Survival was possible, but since I couldn’t escape, that meant I probably had to convince the prince not to kill me. Additionally, while he claimed there were multiple paths to accomplishing this, I wasn’t sure if that was actually the case.

“You said there are many ways I can survive the night, but how many of those alternative paths lead to me still dying in the next year? If I don’t deal with Holly and Roman before the loop ends, won’t they just find a way to kill me down the road?”

“...You are correct, child,” he said after a pause. “While success may take many forms, to achieve true victory, you must not only survive, but also attain a position that allows none to oppose you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, though that is easier said than done, given my circumstances,” I began, and while I’d been doing my best to hold back the storm of emotions as best I could, a bit of snark still made its way into my next words. “Might I recommend an easy mode in your next game?”

Oh, was that question a bit too rude to ask a god? Probably, but don’t forget that this dude appeared with no warning and provided absolutely no explanation for why he trapped me in a game. Sure, I could have asked him, but that would’ve been awkward. Plus, it should have been obvious I wanted to know without me even asking, so why not just tell me that right off the bat? Still, I wasn’t expecting what he’d say next.

“This is not my game. It is yours.”

Before I could ask what he meant, I felt something unfathomably massive press against my forehead. Suddenly, I was back in my apartment on earth. It was my first day off in weeks, and I was spending it not catching up with friends or doing laundry, but instead making a game. However, this one wasn’t for work. It was a passion project of mine that I doubted would ever see the light of day (I was right, as I died before I finished it), so I made it exclusively for myself.

It was based on the villainess trope that I loved and featured a combat maid for no other reason than I thought combat maids were awesome. At that moment, I was working on the prince’s pathfinding. I tinkered with the idea of just having him teleport to the player when they tried to escape, but the thought of the prince actually running toward the player was so hilarious that I had to implement it. No matter how far away she was, the prince would reach her in seconds. I was even tempted to add a hedge maze to the game just to see him chase the player through it.

I reached for my notepad to add that to my to-do list, but the notepad was gone. The entire room was gone, replaced with a noble dorm filled with broken furniture. Once more I was Liliana, but now I also knew that I was the one who designed the cage I found myself in.

“I made this game,” I said, almost as a question.

“You did,” Logos confirmed.

“How? Did I make this entire world? Is this world even real? Is anyone in this world real besides me? Did I make you?”

“Myself, this world, and its people existed long before you designed your game and will continue to exist long after you have perished.”

“Then what is happening?” I growled back, no longer caring if this god thought I was rude or even if he killed me right on the spot. I needed to understand what was happening and why he’d done this to me.

“Be calm, child. I shall explain. Upon death, a human soul is purified and reborn in its own world, but on rare occasions, an individual may slip through the cracks and find themselves in a brand new land. When this occurs, I examine the individual’s memories to see what may aid this world and what may harm it. However, within your memories, I saw a potential solution to an approaching problem that had been vexing me for some time.”

“And my game is somehow supposed to solve that problem?” I asked incredulously.

“That is my hope.”

Something still felt off about this entire situation. Despite his promise of honesty, he had not explained what this problem actually was, and more than that, I still didn’t understand how this world and my game were connected. It all seemed a little too perfect.

“So the fact that my game perfectly matches this world is just a coincidence?”

“Not quite perfectly. While several key elements of your roguelite game aligned quite well with the world and its circumstances, certain factors needed to be changed when adapting the game to this scenario.”

“What about Sally?” I asked, pointing at the combat maid who had remained utterly frozen for this entire conversation. “My game had a combat maid, too, didn’t it?

“That was a...remarkable coincidence,” he replied, sounding as if even he struggled to believe this claim.

“This is a lot to take in,” I said after a minute of silence. “But I guess I just need to trust in the ending that I wrote.”

“Reflect on what we spoke about today, child. You have as much time as you desire to find an ending that you are satisfied with. I will not interfere with your path any further. Though there are a great many things I can not yet speak of, I will answer your call whenever circumstances allow.”

With that, the voice was gone, and so too was the pressure that had held me down. I struggled to stand up and spent a few moments stretching before Sally spoke up. She had seemingly been frozen for the entire conversation, so I was sure she had questions about how I had ended up on my knees, but instead she asked something very different.

“Milady, may I be excused for a few minutes?”

That was unexpected. Of course, Sally often left to do my laundry or perform any number of other tasks for me, but I could think of no urgent chore that would require her to leave at this time. Still, I approved it, but Sally made no effort to move. Instead, she simply allowed her body to collapse to the floor.

“Sally!” I screamed in horror as I ran to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Apologies, milady,” she said in a voice far weaker than I had ever heard from her. “The words of your guest seemed to have left me a bit rattled. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

I was shocked. Sally had not been frozen during that discussion. She had heard every word and experienced the unbearable force that accompanied each one. Yet, she had not faltered or flinched or even blinked. She had remained stone still, so as not to interrupt us.

“I really don’t deserve you,” I whispered as I held her hand and did my best to hold back my tears.

There was a long road ahead of me, but I was certain I’d survive so long as I had the maid by my side whose existence befuddled even the gods.