My hands flew up to shield my eyes from the searing brightness. After being trapped in absolute darkness for what felt like an eternity, the sudden onslaught of light was physically painful, a white-hot burn against my retinas.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, my vision adjusted. I lowered my trembling hands, blinking away watery spots.
Before me stretched a vast, white space. And in the distance, two figures sat at a table, engaged in what looked like a game. From afar, it resembled chess, but the board seemed to shimmer with its own internal light.
On the left sat a woman. Her hair was the pure white of untouched snow, so impossibly long it cascaded around her like a silken waterfall, pooling on the floor. She was draped in a simple, elegant white yukata. Leaning against her wooden chair was a sheathed katana, its scabbard as white as her robes. Her skin was a deep, flawless black, like polished charcoal or the void between stars. It was a color no human or any race I knew possessed, yet on her, it was breathtaking. She radiated a serene, terrifying beauty—the beauty of a goddess carved from night and ice.
Facing her was a man. His hair was a long, flowing cascade of navy blue, the color of the deepest ocean, tied back in a loose ponytail. His eyes were a matching, luminous blue, and his skin was as pale as moonstone—or, I thought with a flicker of recognition, as pale as my own. His features were sharp and elegant, possessing a striking, almost ethereal handsomeness. I wasn't gay, but even I could acknowledge that this being probably had legions of admirers across the cosmos.
Suddenly, my perception shifted. The plain white space wasn't just a space.
My eyes widened in pure, unadulterated disbelief.
From the left, where the woman sat, a world of eternal winter unfolded. The air around her glittered with falling snowflakes. The chair she sat on was encased in delicate, fractal ice. Behind her, the white space gave way to an endless landscape of frozen peaks and howling blizzards, a silent, beautiful apocalypse.
From the right, where the man sat, reality dissolved into the cosmos. Space itself seemed to bleed from him, stretching into infinity behind his chair. It wasn't just blackness; it was the rich, swirling color of Cosmic Latte—the average color of the universe—dotted with countless, softly glowing stars and distant, spiraling nebulae. It was a slice of the universe, breathtaking and humbling.
No, domain was a better word for it. These were their personal realities made manifest.
It's as if someone cut the universe in half and placed the pieces here, I thought, utterly mesmerized by the juxtaposed beauty.
As I looked closer at the man, I noticed something else. Faint, shimmering crackles of energy—like miniature lightning or captured starlight—danced across his skin and robes at random intervals. The most astonishing thing was how their domains interacted. They didn't clash or blend. They met in a perfect, razor-straight line down the middle of the game board and simply… stopped. One side was frozen eternity, the other was living cosmos. And I was standing precisely in the narrow, neutral strip between them, untouched by either.
That was the moment the truth crashed down on me.
These are not humans.
There was no way. I knew this world held beings of immense power, but the entities before me operated on a completely different plane. What human could casually warp reality with their mere presence? Gods, I realized, my heart skipping a beat. They have to be gods. It made sense—gods existed here, distant beings who granted blessings and watched from afar.
But a pressing question nagged at me. If they were gods, why were they appearing in my awakening? No history book, no imperial record I'd ever read mentioned an awakening involving trials or divine encounters. It was supposed to be simple: get stabbed, fall unconscious, and hope you woke up with a useful skill.
Did that mean everyone went through a trial like this and met gods? No, that was a foolish thought. The sheer scale of what I was witnessing was unprecedented. I am the anomaly here.
A slow, hopeful smile touched my lips. If I was an anomaly, it likely meant I was here for something… extraordinary.
Deciding to take the initiative, I began walking toward them. They seemed completely engrossed in their game, though I doubted for a second they were truly unaware of my presence.
I walked forward, my senses overwhelmed by the chill of eternal winter on my left and the silent, depthless wonder of space on my right. Soon, I stood directly before their table.
They didn't look up.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat. Nothing.
I tried again, louder. Still, no reaction. It was as if I were a ghost.
"Tsk." I clicked my tongue in frustration.
Since they were ignoring me, I turned my attention to the game board. Up close, it was clearly not chess. The board itself was a mosaic of their two domains—one half crystalline ice, the other swirling cosmos. The pieces were intricate miniatures of mythical beasts: lions, tigers, great birds, winged horses, and on the man's side, a magnificently detailed dragon.
The woman was losing badly. She had only six pieces remaining, while the man commanded ten. Each time he moved a piece to capture one of hers, a tendril of cosmic energy would lash out, wrapping around her piece and dissolving it into shimmering stardust that was absorbed into his domain. With each capture, the cosmic side of the board expanded slightly.
The game continued silently until the woman's side was completely barren, and the board was awash in the color of the cosmos.
⌈I win.⌋
The man spoke. His voice was not a sound but a vibration that resonated in my bones, deep and layered with the echo of collapsing stars. It sent chills cascading down my spine.
⌈Tsk.⌋ The woman clicked her tongue, a white eyebrow twitching in irritation. ⌈You've played this game for eons. How could you not win?⌋
⌈You are just a sore loser.⌋ The man shook his head, a faint, amused smile on his lips. ⌈Now, hand over the authority. That was the deal.⌋
The woman frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her icy chair. ⌈There has literally never been a soul that succeeded in the trial. Why should I hand anything over? It's a pointless bet.⌋
⌈You are righ—⌋
The man cut himself off. In perfect, synchronized unison, both of their heads snapped toward me.
I met their gazes. Their eyes were no longer simply blue or white. They were shifting, swirling pools of impossible color—nebulas being born and dying, galaxies spinning, ice fractaling into infinite patterns. Their stare pinned me in place. Invisible chains of pure will wrapped around my limbs, my throat, my very soul. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. I felt utterly exposed, as if every secret, every memory, every flaw in my spirit was being laid bare under their divine scrutiny.
W-what the hell?! What kind of power is this?!
It was overwhelming. Cold sweat drenched my back, and a primal, gut-wrenching fear blossomed in my heart—the fear of being unmade by a mere thought.
⌈We were so focused on the game we didn't even notice there was someone next to us.⌋ The woman's voice was a chill wind as her gaze scanned me from head to toe. I felt oddly… harassed by the clinical intensity of her look.
⌈Indeed. How did you get here?⌋ The man's cosmic eyes bored into me.
I tried to speak, to form words, but my mouth was sealed shut by their presence. I couldn't even part my lips.
Noticing my struggle, a subtle tension left the air. The crushing pressure lifted.
⌈Apologies. We've been sequestered here so long we keep our divine auras active by default,⌋ the man said, as if explaining a minor social faux pas. As he spoke, the magnificent domains of ice and cosmos retracted, flowing back into their bodies until the room was once again a sterile, plain white.
⌈A good thing you didn't step into either domain,⌋ the woman added casually. ⌈You would have ceased to exist.⌋
Damn, that's dangerous as fuck. And he'd said divine auras. My suspicion was confirmed. They were gods.
With their power reined in, I could move again. My legs gave out, and I fell to my knees, gasping for air as if I'd just run a marathon.
⌈Goodness, where are my manners?⌋ The man snapped his fingers. A simple wooden chair materialized beneath me, catching me as I collapsed into a seated position.
⌈Now… how did you get here, human?⌋ the woman asked, her tone one of genuine curiosity.
"Through that door," I managed, pointing a shaky finger back at the lone white door.
⌈Did this child actually pass the test?⌋ The man sounded genuinely astonished. ⌈Why am I even asking? We can simply see if he did.⌋
His eyes shifted again, this time becoming pools of absolute black, deeper than the void I had just escaped. He stared through me.
⌈He really did. He passed.⌋ The announcement held a note of wonder.
⌈If you had looked back even once, you would have been consumed by the void creatures,⌋ the woman stated matter-of-factly.
Void creatures? Like… eldritch horrors? A fresh wave of shivers racked my body. Fucking hell. I was being stalked by cosmic monsters?
⌈I praise you for not succumbing to the whispers of those… void luggers.⌋ The man nodded, a hint of respect in his stellar voice.
"Void luggers?" I asked, the strange term sticking in my mind.
⌈You know that's a racial slur?⌋ The woman chided the man, though she sounded more amused than offended.
⌈Is it racist if I hate my own kin?⌋ The man raised an eyebrow.
⌈You have a point. But you literally invented that slur.⌋
⌈Yeah, yeah, whatever.⌋
Damn. A racist god. And toward his own people, no less. That's a new one.
"Do those… things look like you, sir?" I asked, carefully choosing the respectful address.
⌈Hell no, I don't look like those void lugg—⌋
The woman shot him a look that could freeze a sun. He cleared his throat.
⌈No. And trust me, you do not want to see what they truly look like. If you did, your soul would unravel from existence.⌋ His expression was utterly serious now.
"I see…" As expected of eldritch beings. Terrifying. This just shows there are powers in existence where merely witnessing them is fatal. Could I ever reach that level?
Steeling myself, I turned to them fully. "So, who are you both? And what is this test I've just passed… madam and sir?" I kept my tone as respectful as I could muster. Angering a deity seemed like a spectacularly bad idea.
⌈We?⌋ The woman gestured between them. ⌈We are the creators of this place. We fashioned it to find a soul worthy of being blessed with our power.⌋ Her voice softened slightly. ⌈And as you overheard, we have never found one. Not in eons. Countless souls have attempted the trial. All failed… until you. It is… fascinating.⌋
So it was a test. And I'd passed. The implications made my head spin. Their power? Cosmic and ice domains? That's beyond anything I imagined.
⌈I am the Goddess of Finality. You may call me Finalis…⌋ the woman announced, her black skin and white hair seeming to glow with a soft, inner light.
The man leaned forward, a smile playing on his lips as his eyes shimmered with contained universes. ⌈...And I am the God of Destruction. My name is Virgil.⌋