'This… isn't what I wanted.'
I stare out as far as I can from the base of the World Tree, across the lands of Pasca. It looks no worse than it normally does, but now it feels… even more empty. Even more barren. I didn't think I could feel any worse about it.
I don't understand. I exterminated the humans, the very beings responsible for Pasca's decay and suffering with my own hands! No one will ever hurt this world, squander its mana, or desecrate its soil ever again! I made sure of it!
Why does this feel so wrong?
My legs give out as I slide down into a sitting position next to the Tree. I've done all I can… but the Tree is still withering away. Even if the humans are gone, Pasca as a whole probably isn't... going to last much longer. I rest my forehead against my knees, slowly close my eyes, and wait for the end…
"Hmph… to think that this world would already be ripe for the taking."
My eyes snap back open at the sound of the voice. I should be the last being capable of speech on Pasca. Who could possibly… wait. The scent of his mana… it's different. This person isn't from Pasca. Why was he here? How did he get here? What does he want? My defensive instincts kick in at the possibility of a threat.
Rather than keep guessing and asking questions, I look up warily to see the source of the voice. Floating there, looking at the destruction I created, was a man with long silver hair, and red horns like a demon. He seems almost pleased, almost enjoying the sight of my ruined world. What kind of sick person—
I freeze when the man turns around and notices my presence, making eye contact. The man acknowledges me with an ominous smile.
"Interesting… was it you who did this?" There's a mocking tone of approval in his voice, coupled with a condescending stare. I look away in response.
Ignoring my obvious disinterest with him, the man continues: "You feel it too, don't you? This world is on its last legs, only awaiting destruction."
I bite my lip, still looking away with a grimace. 'Don't remind me of what I already know.'
"Offer what is left of this forsaken land to Gilgulim, and I will promise it will be reborn, free of suffering and despair. Partake with me the mana of other worlds, and Pasca will see a new dawn of mankind." The man holds his hand out to me, expecting me to take it.
Pasca… reborn? It sounds too good to be true. But his words are the only ones around for me to believe in. No one's here to tell me otherwise. And I have nothing left to lose. His offer is too tempting to ignore, too relevant to my interests. Without even deciding on an answer, I can already see my hand reaching out to his. His words… have ensnared me completely.
Like the whispers of a devil…