Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

I had to admit, I was impressed.

In just under an hour, Vince and Lily had deciphered an alien language without the help of any translation algorithm.

Okay, sure, the language bore a heavy resemblance to one they already knew.

But still, it didn't make their feat any less impressive.

"So, just a fair warning before I go on," Vince said, clearing his throat. "From what we've gathered, some phrases are very weird. And some words don't make sense on their own at all. So the writing doesn't always translate neatly."

He pointed at a carving. "Like here. This word is the closest I could find to Deus — meaning god or deity. But in another context, like this one, it could also mean sacrifice. Which is, like I said, weird. But hey, who am I to judge an ancient civilization?"

"...Okay," Michael nodded. "So what exactly are these engravings? Prayers? Holy texts? Their mythology?"

Lily brushed her fingers lightly along the scribbles. "Actually, this… is a record. The people who built this place called themselves Triviscaris. And this is their history."

She gestured toward the wall. "Most of the engravings here depict their rise. Billions of years ago, when their kind first began walking their planet, they worshipped the gods."

She walked along the mural, and we followed. "The gods, pleased by their devotion, sent down their winged messengers, the Seravius — which I believe is the word for angels. These Seravius guided the Triviscari people. They gave them intelligence and direction. They gave them language and fire. They gave them tools and medicine."

The weathered murals showed exactly what Lily was describing — tall beings with immense wings radiating light from their heads, handing gifts to smaller figures with three eyes.

Some Triviscaris were bowing in worship. Others were receiving scrolls, flames, and strange tools.

The wings of the Seravius were carved with such detail that even after all these centuries, you could almost feel the feathers stirring the air.

The paint on the drawings had long since faded, but traces of gold and silver still caught the dim crimson moonlight that bled through the cracks above.

Lily's voice softened as she went on. "Under the guidance of the benevolent angels, the Triviscaris entered a golden age. They built vast cities and crafted ingenious devices that made life effortless. Their culture thrived. Their world was at peace. There was no hunger. There was no suffering. It was… paradise."

"But?" I cut in. "Because I'm guessing there's a but."

"But," Vince said, stepping up to the next set of glyphs, "like all living beings, the Triviscaris grew restless. They grew too ambitious. A good life wasn't enough for them. They wanted eternal life."

"Of course," I sighed under my breath.

Vince gave a nod. "The problem came when, every time they made progress toward immortality, the Seravius intervened and told them to stop. In the end, the Triviscaris were forced to abandon the pursuit of eternal life. And from then on, their reverence for the gods began to dull. They stopped worshiping as fervently as before."

"As a result," Lily added quietly, "the gods called back their angels… all but a few. But it didn't matter anymore. Because by then, the Triviscari had grown strong enough to no longer depend on them."

The murals shifted from here, turning darker.

Where the winged Seravius had once towered above the Triviscaris in radiant hues, their outlines now thinned into faint silhouettes retreating skyward.

The Triviscaris below were painted larger, prouder, as if they no longer needed to look up at the heavens for guidance.

"They built wonders without angels," Vince murmured. "Buildings taller than mountains. Kingdoms connected by bridges of light. They learned to bend the elements and make machines that carried them across the skies. They… believed it was their destiny to be equal to the gods."

A cold knot twisted in my gut. Because I could already tell it didn't end well for them.

Lily pressed her lips together before speaking. "A few decades passed. And before long, all kingdoms united peacefully under a single Emperor's banner. He was a brilliant ruler — loved by his people, praised for his wisdom, and sought for his sense of justice."

"But one day," Vince continued, "the Emperor's son fell ill. The beloved prince of the great empire was at death's door. And he would have perished… if not for a girl who unbound fate's thread and pulled him back to life."

"Wow," Ray frowned. "Dramatic much?"

Vince squinted at the next few lines. "But the girl who had saved the prince was no ordinary girl. She was the daughter of one of the Seravius who had stayed behind. She was not born… but made. She was shaped from longing and desire. She was a dream given form. And by saving the prince… she defied the order of things. She defied fate. She defied the gods themselves."

My gaze drifted to the next mural.

It showed colossal figures descending from the stars — faceless gods of flame and shadow.

The sky cracked like shattered glass upon their arrival. They pointed their fingers downward in judgment.

Lightning struck. Mountains crumbled. Kingdoms burned.

Vince's voice dropped as he went on. "By defying them, the girl incurred the gods' wrath. When they came for her, her father, an angel of the highest heaven, begged forgiveness on her behalf. But the gods did not listen. They demanded her life. So the Emperor himself, backed by the support of his people, stood before them. The entire empire declared their loyalty to the girl for saving their prince and refused to hand her over. So the gods waged war on Triviscaris. And the empire rose in rebellion against the heavens."

"But the gods were gods," Lily whispered.

We walked deeper into the temple.

More murals, more tablets came into view.

The walls were now fully covered with illustrations that shifted from hopeful to horrific.

They called that war The Rebellion Against the Stars.

…And they lost.

The Triviscaris lost the war.

Vince stopped in front of a particularly long inscription.

"Oh no…" he swallowed hard, his face drained of color. "The gods… th-they wove insects into flesh, mingled plants with men, and seeded abominations to mock all who dared stand against them."

Lily turned toward the next wall, her eyes wide in horror and her voice trembling. "The heavens made monsters of the Triviscari people. Just to prove that mortals were beneath them. Just to prove that mortals were nothing but insects crawling under the stars."

Her words echoed in the chilling silence that followed.

Everyone stood frozen.

Alexia's hand covered her mouth for a moment as if she was about to throw up.

Michael stepped back a pace.

Kang turned his head away in disgust.

Even I felt sick.

Because suddenly, everything made sense…

Those human-headed insects.

Those screaming trees.

That snake with limbs.

Those bugs with dead skin stitched in patchwork across their bodies.

All of them — all those grotesque abominations — were once real people. People turned into monsters by the gods.

…No, not gods. They weren't gods.

They were sadists with power.

The murals showed the once-proud Triviscaris torn apart and sewn back together.

Some with roots sprouting from their spines.

Others with chitin consuming their skin.

Most reduced to nothing but mindless beasts.

The artists hadn't spared the details of the ungodly torture inflicted upon those people.

You could almost hear their agony in the gouged stone, as if whoever carved it had been there, forced to watch every moment.

Then we reached the final mural.

It stretched across the highest point of the inner sanctum, half-cracked and half-eroded.

It showed a little girl, no older than eight, being lifted up into the fractured sky.

Her father knelt on the ground, forced to witness the gods twist his daughter's small body. They broke her bones, molded her flesh, and hardened her skin to stone.

Lily read the inscription under that picture. "The girl… The girl was turned into the moon. The gods damned her to bleed for eternity, to suffer anguish without end. Her sorrow became light. Her pain became glow. Her blood lit the skies."

Vince's voice cracked when he took over. "And her father remained on his knees, weeping under that bleeding moon for centuries. He wept until his tears formed a silver sea."

We looked around.

In the center of the chamber lay the final piece of writing — the last recorded moment of their history.

Lily read it slowly, struggling to keep herself steady:

"Here stood a people once proud and whole. Yes, we were arrogant. We forgot humility. We reached too far and wanted to claim the stars. We were ambitious, but when the end came, our struggle was not to rival the gods… it was to save an innocent girl from their cruelty. And for that, we were undone. So when the Supreme One came, our weakened Protectors fell. Our world bled into his realm. We became Defiled. Now I… am the last survivor of our kind. And I pray this temple remains long after I am gone. I hope it stands as a memory, as a warning… as the proof of a kindness that defied heaven. This is the tale of the Bleeding Moon. This is the story of a girl who opposed fate for a dying boy. Her crime… was mercy."