Nia Corson had always been alone. For as long as she could remember, she was just another girl on the streets — another forgotten face with nothing to her name.
School was supposed to be her way out, but reality didn't care. She dropped out in tenth grade because classes took too much time away from the part‑time job she needed to survive. At sixteen, she legally emancipated herself from a father she hadn't seen in eight years — a man who barely remembered she existed.
To stay alive, Nia juggled three jobs:
1. A full‑time waiter shift, barely enough to keep her fed and sheltered.
2. Underground fight rings, where she earned decent money at the cost of bruises, broken ribs, and the occasional hospital bill.
3. Babysitting, whenever someone needed a warm body to watch their brat for a few hours.
There was a time she didn't even have those.
A time when she slept under bridges, behind dumpsters, or in abandoned bus stops.
A time when she ate until she felt pain — not out of greed, but out of fear. Fear that tomorrow she wouldn't eat at all.
That was the miserable life of a fifteen‑year‑old Nia Corson.
Even after she clawed her way out of homelessness, bought herself a tiny apartment, and built a stable routine, she never stopped saving. Every dollar mattered. Every meal could be her last. Every comfort felt temporary.
But deep down, beneath the scars and hunger and exhaustion, she held onto one fragile hope:
That one day, she might have a family of her own. Someone who would love her back.
Even one person would have been enough.
Because life was a lonely place — and Nia Corson had been lonely for far too long.
One day, Nia stepped into the underground ring for what she thought would be a routine match — just another night, another opponent, another set of bruises she'd sleep off before her morning shift.
Her opponent was an aggressive foreign fighter, smaller than Nia but faster, sharper, and burning with something Nia couldn't name. The match was brutal, but Nia fought hard. She always did. Survival had taught her that much.
But that night, survival wasn't enough.
She lost.
And the moment the referee called it, something in her opponent snapped. The woman didn't stop. She kept swinging — wild, furious blows driven by something far beyond competition. The crowd shouted, but no one stepped in fast enough.
Nia felt the world tilt. The noise blurred. Her body gave out long before her will did. Her last thought wasn't fear.
It was disappointment. So this is it? After everything… I still die alone? Then everything went dark.
When Nia woke up, she was in a kingdom overflowing with food — tables stacked with feasts, fountains of drink, golden platters piled high. It looked like paradise. Until she tried to eat.
Every time she reached for food, it vanished. Every drink turned to sand the moment it touched her tongue. At first, she tried to laugh it off. Tried to stay calm. Tried to believe this was some strange dream.
But this place had no concept of death.
Whenever she collapsed, she simply woke up again — in the same weak, starving body, forced to repeat the same cycle. The same hunger. The same loneliness.
This wasn't heaven. It was hell wearing a mask.
If she didn't want to waste away, she had to eat whatever she could find — unorthodox scraps, pieces of the castle itself, anything that kept her from collapsing again. Every "meal" hurt. She cried the first few times.
But eventually, she grew used to the pain. What she never grew used to was the loneliness. Never the loneliness.
She spent more than an eternity there. An eternity alone and in pain. All she ever needed was a family or atleast one person who loved her.
One afternoon her body and vision were engulfed by a weird light and before she knew it she was around a narcissistic shining light who called herself a goddess.
When she looked up, she saw a woman. She had big breasts bigger than her own; normally she wouldn't take note of this, but damn, was she jealous.The woman had golden eyes, blonde hair, and was floating. She looked at her own form; for some weird reason, it had changed. , It was now a distorted shadow. Which she found to be so weird
The woman began to speak: "Hello, sinners. Each of you may be wondering what I'm talking about, so I'll explain. Every 500 years, the 10 primordial sins reincarnate, and this increases people's urge to commit sins and naturally sends more of them to hell, which has 10 rings: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth, obsession, apathy, and deceit. I'm sure you all hated it there. Hell may be where sinners go, but it was designed originally to cause eternal agony to you sins.
However, you're in luck—my favorite novel ended, and I want to see an alternate ending, so I'm sending you there now. Survive, my 10 sins—no, my champions." Nia felt a bit embarrassed for the goddess when listening to her speech; she sounded like a total chuunibyuo child what was she a seventh grader.
then an outline exactly opposite to her spoke this outline had a feminine voice " miss goddess what is your name."
the goddess paused for a few moments before saying " oh sweet little greed you may call me lillian goddess of reincarnation." lillian's tone was that of an adult speaking to a child
Then another outline spoke. This one sounded similar to her father which instantly made her dislike it the same apathetic voice, like he just wanted to be out of here: "Are we going to be sent there without anything special?" lilliane seemed to look particularly down on this specific outline. "Apathy, along with a system, I will send you all there with one unique skill. Oops, times up. The god of death and the goddess of life, my bosses, gave me very little time to do this, so bye."