The streets of Terra Prime were eerily silent. Normally filled with the chatter of merchants, the laughter of children, and the rhythmic hum of life, the city now felt like a graveyard under the weight of the looming Selection. The countdown still hung in the sky, a celestial reminder of their fragile existence.
[1 Month : 29 Days]
Oren Kael walked through the marketplace, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Conversations buzzed around him, hushed yet urgent."My brother's been training for this his whole life," a woman whispered to her friend. "If he gets picked, he'll make it back. I know he will."
"You don't know that," the friend replied grimly. "Nobody does."
The Selection wasn't just another global event. It was a reckoning. Every six years, ten million names would appear, 100,000 of which are from Earth, each a death sentence for most. The top ten thousand would return stronger than before. The rest would never be seen again.
Oren had grown up watching people leave and never come back. His father had been one of them.
He passed a large screen mounted on the side of a building. A news anchor, her expression carefully neutral, delivered a report to an anxious public.
"As the Selection nears, training academies are filled to capacity. Officials urge citizens to remain calm and continue daily routines until names are announced. Remember, preparation increases survival chances. For those selected, the government has pledged full support in equipping candidates..."
Oren scoffed. "Full support? Yeah, right. Like money can help against those crazy gods."
The broadcast changed to footage from past Selection events. Brief clips of fighters, mages, and strategists, their faces filled with desperation or determination. The gods didn't just want warriors; they wanted entertainment and this whole shit was humans dancing to thier tones.
He turned away. He wasn't going to be selected. He had nothing special to offer. No combat training, no magic, no divine blessing. Just another face in the crowd, but then he had thought the same thing last time. And his father had still been taken.
They were all fools, but he could not entirely blame them. When this event had first started over two hundred years ago, it had been something else entirely—something new and grand, something awe-inspiring.
The first time, people hadn't even known what was happening. The countdown had simply appeared in the sky. Then, one by one, people were taken. At first, it was chaos. Then, the transmission began. The entire world was forced to watch as the chosen ones struggled to survive. The first competition had been a massacre.
But then, during the third Selection, everything changed. A human had made it into the top 10,000. And for the first time, Earth received divine rewards—awakenings, technological advancements, new sources of energy. It was like a dream, a miracle. And like a drug, humanity had become addicted.
It was no longer about survival. It was a spectacle. A game. And now, the Selection had devolved into this... a grotesque tradition, a reality show for the gods.
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The Celestial Halls of Dominion
High above the mortal world, the gods gathered once more, watching humanity scramble to prepare. The grand halls shimmered with divine energy as projections of different planets filled the space, each species preparing for the Selection in their own way.
"Look at them," Slyphine said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Fearful, desperate, clinging to the hope that they'll survive this time."
Zephyros sat with arms folded, glaring at the images. "This time, they will."
"Still believing in miracles, Zeph?" Durnir smirked. "Even you can't deny the odds. Earth has failed twenty times. One more, and they're gone."
"Not all odds are absolute," a new voice interjected.
Chronos stepped forward, his hood concealing his face, yet his presence was unmistakable. "A cycle is only as rigid as the forces shaping it."
Slyphine rolled her eyes. "More of your cryptic nonsense?"
Chronos didn't react. Instead, he turned his gaze to the projections. "There are anomalies in every system. Patterns break. The unexpected occurs."
"You say that every time, yet nothing changes," Slyphine said.
The cloaked figure standing beside Chronos finally spoke. "This time, something will."
The gods turned their attention to the shadowed figure. Few knew his true name, and even fewer had seen him take action in these games. He had never sponsored a mortal, never interfered. And yet, he watched.
"You think Earth has a contender?" Valmora asked skeptically.
"I know they do."
The gods fell silent. Even Slyphine didn't have a sarcastic remark.
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Terra Prime – Nightfall
Oren sat on the edge of his rooftop, watching the sky. The glowing numbers had changed again.
[1 Months : 28 Days]
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, he hated everything this number represent and so here he was praying to the gods that it just disappered as suddenly as it had apperred all those years ago.
"Please," he whispered to no one in particular, "If that thing won't disappear, just let me disappear."