Unwritten Mythos

In a room, Enko exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the gold vanish from his palm as though it had never existed. "Finally, I've contributed enough to get in."

Even after his rebirth, the game invitation had remained, tethered to his soul like an unshakable shadow. His eyes darkened as his consciousness slipped into another space.

A vast, black platform stretched before him, surrounded by ornate chairs and tables. Above, a colossal countdown hovered in the sky, its ticking a constant reminder of the inevitable.

"The death game opens once a month," Enko muttered to himself. "I've survived eight games so far… missed two." His gaze shifted upward, locking onto the words etched in ominous letters.

[Number 002: Deep One (Difficulty 2)]

[Countdown: 03:14:55]

"Three hours left," he whispered, pulling up his status board. His eyes narrowed. "My integration points are down to zero, and all the abilities I gained from before… gone. This just keeps getting worse."

Around him, other players drifted through the space, each marked by the same strange triangle-circle pattern on their palms. They, too, had received the invitation. One of them, a figure Enko instantly recognized, approached him.

"New person?" the man asked with a knowing smirk.

Enko's eyes flickered with a faint recognition. Mihawk. The man who had once fought beside him in the battle against 004 Queen Bee, only to betray him in the end with a knife to the back.

Expressionless, Enko regarded Mihawk with cold detachment. "I'm new. So?"

Mihawk raised his hand in a gesture of false camaraderie. "Right, well, be careful. The people here can be selfish. I'm Mihawk, but you can call me Mi."

'Selfish? You're the most selfish person here.' Enko thought but said nothing, refusing to shake the man's hand.

Mihawk, sensing the awkwardness, cleared his throat. "Cough, cough. This game's dangerous. How about we team up?"

Enko's silence spoke volumes.

Undeterred, Mihawk tilted his head and grinned. "Ah, no worries if you don't want to team up. As an experienced player, I feel obligated to give you some advice."

He gestured toward the floating countdown. "Once the timer hits zero, anyone with a valid ticket gets forcibly transported to their respective scene."

"The monsters you'll face are random, and the game's rules tend to vary. But the goal is always the same: survive until the time is up."

Mihawk's voice dropped, as if sharing some grand secret. "If you manage to stay alive, you'll earn points. And with enough points, you can buy things from the Shop. Take a look when you get a chance."

He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "The most expensive item? Fifty thousand points. Word is, it gets you a one-time meeting with the game's administrator."

...

In the sky, Mei floated gracefully, her hands clasped behind her back, radiating the serene yet ominous aura of the Goddess of Death. Her gaze lingered on the mortals below, a web of fate lines flickering in her sight like threads of light.

"079, this item that costs 50,000 points, what exactly is its purpose?" Mei's voice was calm, yet laced with the subtle dominance of one who already knew the answer.

[Ah, that's part of your design, Lord Aurora. You said that whoever could accumulate 50,000 points would be worthy of a Potion.]

Mei arched an eyebrow. "A Potion? You mean one of my creations."

[Precisely, Lord. I cannot create Potions, but you can.]

[Before you created me, I made sure no one would ever reach 50,000 points. I would trap them before they got close.]

[But after you made me, you decided that someone should be able to reach that threshold.]

Mei's sharp gaze scanned the gathering below. "Who has the most points now?"

[A player named Ye Gong, with 4,200 points.]

"And what about the original Enko?"

[He had 3,650 points before you brought him back.]

[Once a player dies, their points are erased. But since you brought Enko back to life, he returned with nothing.]

"How unfortunate," Mei mused, her eyes flickering with amusement. Her gaze settled on certain individuals, some of whom gave her a strange, familiar sensation—the same feeling she'd had when she first encountered Enko.

Mei's eyes narrowed, and with a gesture, she tugged at the invisible fate lines that surrounded the players below. Some were thicker than others, shining with a peculiar golden light. They were the marks of fortune, strands of destiny stronger and more resilient than ordinary souls.

Ever since Mei had transformed into the Goddess of Death, she had come to understand this concept of fate. Strong fate lines carried fortune, and those who possessed them were often called the Children of Luck.

By experimenting with Enko's blood, Mei had realized that fortune could be manipulated. Whoever drank a Potion infused with Enko's blood would inherit a fate line similar to his—marked by great fortune, yet fragile enough to be broken by her hand.

Though such people could live long, prosperous lives if left alone, they were never truly invincible. Mei could snip the thread of their destiny with the smallest flick of her fingers.

"I thought Enko was a singular case," Mei mused. "But now it seems that many of these people carry the same Children of Luck characteristics."

Her eyes gleamed as she pieced the puzzle together. 'Fortune was not a unique gift, but a trait she could exploit, refine, and perfect.'

"079, when you initially selected these players, was it random? Or did you have a specific criteria?"

[You, of the future, instructed me to find people with strong fate—those whose destinies were intertwined with fortune.]

A knowing smile played on Mei's lips. "I see… so this was all part of my design."

By allowing players to accumulate 50,000 points, she could filter out the most resilient, the most fortunate—those worthy of becoming her experiments. It saved her time and effort, ensuring that each subject was of high quality, possessing the same potent luck that had once fascinated her about Enko.

It was an elegant solution—brilliant, even. A double-edged strategy, granting them the potential for power while making them malleable to her whims. 'The person who devised this plan truly was a genius.'

Mei chuckled softly to herself, admiring her own foresight.

"So, when does this game start?"

[The game will begin when the countdown ends. Players must avoid the pursuit of 002 Deep One's army. Survive for 30 minutes or escape the manor, and they win.]

"Thirty minutes?" Mei's smile widened. "Too short. Make it an hour."

[As you wish, Lord Aurora.]

"And while you're at it, show me the other data."

[Lord Aurora's experimental data is stored only in your possession. You have not shared it with anyone.]

[Though I am aware of the creatures involved, I don't know their exact origins or how they were created. Revealing too much might alter this timeline irreversibly.]

Mei's eyes glimmered with amusement. "This timeline? You mean we're carving out a new one with each action? Interesting."

She paused, considering the implications. "In theory, when you travel to the past, you create a new branch in time. It isn't the past we once knew—it's a new timeline altogether. Just like in those old stories, where changing the past leads to unpredictable futures."

[That's correct. And revealing too much could mean you won't create me in this timeline, Lord.]