3 Aftermath

Blood slicked Jason's hands. He'd returned to the opulent lair of the Maharaja, the man who'd orchestrated his "brother's" demise. The promise of power echoed in his head, a twisted justification for the betrayal that still burned raw in his gut.

"The task is complete," Jason rasped, shoving the bloodied knife across the Maharaja's decadent desk.

The Maharaja, a man whose wealth oozed from his every pore, barely glanced at the blade. "Efficient, I'll give you that," he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "But predictable. If not for your… emotional attachment," he sneered, "you wouldn't have lasted this long. Leading an organization like mine requires more than brute force."

Jason's bravado faltered. The "brother" he'd slain had been a rival, a thorn in his side. But a part of him, a naive part, had believed the Maharaja's promises of a shared empire. Now, those dreams lay shattered, replaced by a cold realization.

"Don't worry, Jason," the Maharaja purred, sensing his unease. "A reward is still a reward." Just then, two hulking figures materialized behind Jason, their hands like iron clamps.

Panic clawed at Jason's throat. "What is this?" he choked out.

The Maharaja's laughter echoed in the opulent chamber, devoid of warmth. "You, my dear Jason," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "are a fool. Easily swayed by promises and blind to true power. You'll make a fine foot soldier, but a leader? Never."

The opulent lair echoed with a hollow laugh, not Jason's this time. The Maharaja watched his newest pawn being led away, a cruel smile twisting his lips. Jason, reeking of blood and misplaced bravado, had asked, "What does it mean to be a foot soldier?"

The answer, the Maharaja knew, would be a revelation, a slow descent into a world far grander and more horrifying than the city's petty squabbles. He'd spun a tale – this city's game was a mere prelude, a stepping stone to the big leagues. Assassination, high profile and ruthless, the kind that sent ripples across empires. The risks were colossal, but so were the rewards.

Jason, gullible and desperate, had bought it hook, line, and sinker. His relieved laughter, as they hauled him away in cuffs, was music to the Maharaja's ears. The training, a brutal method designed to forge a soldier, not a thug. Discipline, obedience, the transformation from a street rat with a knife to a finely tuned instrument of death.

But the Maharaja knew the chilling truth behind his elaborate lie. Jason wouldn't be some elite assassin, waltzing through palaces and collecting king's ransoms. He'd be a shell, a husk of his former self. The ambition, the cunning, the very spark of defiance that had brought him this far – all meticulously stripped away. He'd become a phantom, a nameless shadow who existed only to carry out the Maharaja's will, a loyal dog finally leashed.

The laugh that escaped the Maharaja's lips this time was full of amusement and laced with a touch of pity. Jason thought he was on his way up, but the truth was far more tragic. He was on a one-way trip to oblivion, a journey that would end with him as a broken tool, a testament to the Maharaja's ruthless control. The city's harsh realities had taken their toll, but the Maharaja knew a far crueler truth – in the game of power, the greatest victory was the complete annihilation of your opponent's spirit. And Jason, soon to be a nameless soldier, had just handed him the winning move.

*******

A harsh white light assaulted my eyes, forcing them shut again. My head pounded, sluggish and thick as molasses. Dead. I had to be. The betrayal, the cold steel sinking into my chest,'Jason, that bitch...' I thought angrily.

"Why am I here?"

No saint, that was for sure. The climb out of the city's filth had been paved with other people's blood. A desperate scramble for survival that left a trail of shattered lives in its wake. Yet, a bitter laugh escaped my nonexistent lips. Even in that brutal game, I wasn't the one who came out on top.

But this… this wasn't what I expected. No fire and brimstone, just an unsettling peace that stretched on and on. Then, it appeared. An ethereal figure, its form shimmering and indistinct, yet radiating a power that sent shivers down my spine. An ancient instinct, buried deep within, urged me to submit.

But defiance, the flicker that had kept me going even in the darkest corners, refused to die. This… this being might hold dominion over whatever this afterlife was, but it wouldn't control my spirit. Who were they? What did they want? My lips, unused for what felt like an eternity, cracked open. My voice, rough and rusty, rasped out a question, "Where am I?"

"Hooh," the figure boomed, a sound that resonated not with my ears, but within my very being. "How… amusing. You dare show defiance even in the face of a being better and unequivocally more powerful than you can imagine."

The air crackled with the figure's pronouncements, a tangible energy that made my nonexistent hair stand on end. It was both terrifying and strangely… comforting? Maybe it was the sheer weight of its presence, but a sense of order, of hierarchy, washed over me. It felt… right?

"Gaia wasn't entirely wrong. Humans are indeed… 'unique'."

The figure paused, its formless presence somehow conveying a sense of amusement. "You crave certainty, yet fight against any hand that tries to impose it. You yearn for freedom, yet find comfort in order." A strange light flickered within its nebulous form, almost like a hint of… curiosity?

Then, a beat of silence. The figure leaned closer, its form solidifying ever so slightly. "I am a god," it rumbled, the word echoing through the white expanse. "One of many, but for your purposes, simply… god."

God. The word hung in the air, heavy with expectation. A god. Not the vengeful deity from the scriptures, but a being of immense power. What did a god want with a dead man like me? My voice, a little stronger now, dared to ask the question.

"So what now?" I rasped, my voice gaining a touch of its old strength. "Judgment? Punishment for all I've done?"

The god, or whatever it was, chuckled, "No, Rei. Here, there are no such things. But there is… opportunity."