บท 1: Prologue
{3rd Person POV}
The sound of waves thrashing against the sandy beaches was familiar to the man who silently lay there at the shore. His long black hair was spread-eagled, lacking the dignity and order it once exuded during his days leading at the helm of his airship, the King-Maker.
The sky overhead was a never-ending purple expanse, its sunless sky shining a purplish light that blended with the island's surroundings that made up the landmass the man lay quietly in.
Its existence was mysterious, its origin absent from even the sharpest of eyes, but it simply wasn't the biggest mystery that one would find in the water-locked island.
The man's breathing was steady, his skin a ghoulish pale, yet it showed signs of slowly reverting to a lively color much closer to a living being's.
Behind his sealed eyelids came slow movements, struggling to open, yet their owner was eager to do so despite the body's seemingly earnest refusal to comply.
His dark gray eyes were greeted by an unfamiliar sky, lacking even the simplest of storm clouds that had come to accompany him as the world's end slowly came.
The sound of thrashing waves seemed to send a surge of anxiety through his heart, feeling his pulsating chest that relaxed at a snail's pace.
Try as he might, he couldn't seem to understand why he felt this way in the first place.
Every bit of memory he tried to recall was blurry, incapable of painting a clear picture necessary for understanding to blossom as a headache came and settled on his mind.
"Ach..." He silently grunted, placing his hand over the sides of his head with his finger gliding along the smooth surface of his horns as the other closed into a fist. The rough sand filled his hand as the headache remained ceaseless in its pursuit to cause immense pain. "What is... happening...?"
'Greetings, I will be your virtual assistant, Aegis. Please register your User Identification on the space presented to you.' A voice of robotic nature suddenly commanded as a pale violet translucent screen appeared in front of him with a rectangle of a darker shade with a blinking straight line at its center.
Beneath the larger screen came a smaller one, filled with smaller squares where symbols representing the letters of a language he instinctively knew existed.
"User... identification?" The man whispered to himself as he scratched his head, relieved by the headache's slow disappearance. Now, he was simply confused.
'What exactly do you want me to put?' He thought to himself, confusion evident even in his facial expressions before he signed in annoyance caused by a lack of understanding.
He turned his gaze away, not knowing what answer to give even if he wished to comply. His gaze naturally landed upon the tall masses of purplish light shaped into trees, jagged spears of luminescent rays that diverged from the main body whilst light shaped like leaves branched out.
'Would the user prefer the system provide their name based on records submitted to the collective?' The same robotic voice asked without giving much explanation as two buttons that represented his options shone in front of him.
Without much choice, the man pressed the allow button, seeing the name Daemon and the words Terra-504 flash briefly before only the former was left.
Understanding that this was his name, he tapped the "proceed" button, watching as the screen shifted from the previously empty interface to one that showed various tabs.
'Welcome, performer Daemon; we understand that you are currently confused, but everything you need to understand to begin your new life as a performer will come to light sooner or later.' The voice spoke with a cheery accent that contrasted with the monotone voice.
'We understand that you may be suffering from a common phenomenon we in this industry call "Performer's Amnesia". Most of our employees in your position experience this with the unique exception of people who've negotiated for changes in their contract.'
"Hold on, contract? What are you saying?" The man shouted with agitation as he remained clueless about what was happening before him.
"You're telling me that I agreed to... whatever this is?"
'Correct! Would you like to view the contract you signed with the company and the visual recording you made before signing the contract?'
As the voice spoke those words, two interfaces suddenly flashed in front of the man, one that showed a contract he had supposedly signed while the other showed a recording he'd have to play before commencing.
Having to choose between one another, he first wanted to address the video recording issue, wanting answers that'd be given by a version of himself that was fully aware of what would happen, so he played it.
The screen slowly shifted from a black screen to one that showed a clear, sterile room of a purely white expanse before changing as an exact copy of himself walked up to the recording device used from the side.
"Greetings, me, my name is... no, our name is Daemon. We are a being that originated from a world termed by... this thing, as Terra-504. I don't know if you've read your contract yet, but... either way, I will not ask for your forgiveness."
"We... I was desperate. The world was ending, humanity had fallen, and the ark, our only hope, failed. Terra lost, our family died, and that was because of my weakness."
"At the last days of Terra, only I remained. I had used an ancient power given to us by the primordial Gods that birthed this world in their deaths, but it was too late; we alone stood at the world's end."
"That was when the voice came. At first, I thought I had gone insane after wandering through the lifeless wastes of our planet for two years, but... it gave me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"Time would revert, but... we alone wouldn't exist. Instead, our soul was to be used for these... things and the beings it serves for entertainment. I do not ask for your forgiveness, need your understanding, nor care if you would curse our name."
"I'm sure that, by now, I no longer exist, but I hope that my years of suffering and the power I've harnessed will be useful to you. All I ask is that... you do not blame Terra for the life you will live. I wish you luck, performer."
And with that, the interface for the video blinked out, leaving only the contract as the man silently stared into where the interface had been. At first, he felt anger, unbridled rage for what he perceived as an injustice to him, but by the end, all he felt was exhaustion.
It wasn't physical exhaustion but a simple lack of a desire to do much of anything. He felt lost and simply didn't have any interest in the contract that he'd apparently signed but life, or whatever this was, didn't wait for anything.
~~~~
AN: That's about it for the prologue. To be honest, I wasn't sure whether or not I should use IS3 ending like the original, or go with a loss in the battle for the throne (Victoria) but this is what I went with so yeah.
Upload schedule will be twice a week now considering how shorter this story's chapter will be. Specifically, a new chapter will be posted every monday and thursday.
Just a warning, there may be some spelling or grammatical errors here and there that I failed to notice. I'll fix them as soon as I get my laptop fixed.
Enjoy!
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