Bab 1: Chapter 1: Choice After Death
One hundred doorways of pure light stretched down either side of him, radiating a quiet hum. The brightness was cold and unyielding, casting long shadows that warped on the polished stone floor. He had died—or at least he believed he had.
The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain, the biting, metallic cold of a sword piercing his chest. Who had killed him? He didn't know; everything had become a blur in those final, desperate moments.
"What is going on here? What is this place?" His voice echoed down the vast, empty hall.
A silence followed, deep and impenetrable, until—
"Balance...must be maintained."
The voice thundered around him, vibrating through his bones, shivering across his skin like ice water. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Balance? What does that have to do with me?" he asked, his voice quivering despite himself.
Dreven's memories flickered: the bloodstained halls he'd left behind, the countless faces of those he'd slain. As a lowly Bloodfallen, he had neither rank nor wealth—but his hands were far from clean.
"The doors before you represent a new life, a new world in need of balance," the voice rumbled, cold and unfeeling. "You will have the power to adjust the scales."
The voice echoed on, distant and intangible.
"So...you're saying I'll be sent to a new world to...what? Be good? Help people?" His laugh sounded brittle, almost mocking.
Silence answered, save for the whisper of the air. Then, the voice spoke again, each word resonant and absolute. "Do as you please. But the deities of the realm you choose will not be pleased with my interference. They may send agents after you."
Dreven felt an uneasy thrill creep up his spine. Each doorway had strange symbols glowing faintly in the familiar script of his home, their meanings just on the edge of memory.
"Earth?" He stopped before one door, frowning. The faint pulse of energy behind it felt stale, almost disappointing. His own world was of similar size, dull and predictable. No. He needed room to grow. A place of boundless potential.
"I would like to pick a realm that is vast and unspoiled by magic or powers like my own," he said, his voice carrying a note of hunger. "I want a fresh slate. Does such a place exist?"
"...Yes. Is that where you desire to be sent?"
A small, dark smile crept onto his lips. "I do wish that."
A single beam rose from one of the doorways, casting a circle of golden light that warmed his skin. "Ultima," he murmured, the word pulsing with mystery and vastness. This realm stretched endlessly, a world of possibilities where he could carve his own path.
But as he tried to peer deeper, the doorway flared forward, enveloping him in a torrent of light. Shadows whirled around him, and the ground fell away, leaving him plummeting into the unknown.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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