The Final Judgement

Prologue

A young man walked steadily through the piles of dead bodies, his footsteps echoing loudly around the bloody hallway and his stoic eyes looking stubbornly at the ground before him.

He continued walking forth, ignoring the mess around him and stopped right in front of a certain corpse. His eyes watering at the sight before him as he grabbed tightly the fabric over his chest. The young man fell on his knees and took the person into his bloodstained hands. Tears fell down his face as he was denying to let go of the cold body.

It was all his doing... It was all because of him. The person that he was holding on to had a lifeless yet calm expression that was completely different from the rest.

...And he hated himself for it even more.

"You must be the last survivor. Please, follow me," spoke suddenly a female sweet voice but the young man didn't moved an inch. His hands still holding tightly the corpse for dear life. The woman's eyes softened and after a minute she began slowly walking away, "Walk through the portal once you are done with the mourning. The First will be waiting for you."

The man flinched at the mention of the First. Not in fear or anxiety but in pure rage. He gazed one last time at the person in his arms and finally let go. He wiped away his tears and began walking towards the white portal ahead of him.

When he stepped on the other side of the portal, he was met face to face with the cause of his misfortune...

...The First, the God of Creation.

The man glared deadly daggers at the God before him, as the God in return kept looking at him with impassive eyes. The burning hatred inside the young man's heart was only increasing.

"Congratulations on becoming humanity's winner of the Final Judgement," spoke the God loudly with his powerful and deep voice. Hearing his words made the man clench tightly his hands and teeth as he was desperately trying to hold himself back from attacking the God. If he had even 1% chance of winning against him, the man would had already done it, "Your reward will be to have one wish granted. Any wish. I suggest you to think carefully."

That was the final straw. The young man gritted his teeth and walked closer towards the God of Creation, "Reward my ass, you did this for your own amusement, didn't you?! Like almost every other God in this damned tower! What's the point getting a reward when I lost everything!" he yelled but the God didn't said a thing, "You made us kill each other again and again and again... All this for what? Why did you just suddenly decided to throw us a competition and have us dying one by one?!"

"You complain about the competition yet here you are, before me as the last man standing of the tower. You are the one who decided to kill the person you so much adored. You, are the one who was afraid to die and went as far as doing the unthinkable. Am I truly the one to blame here? When what happened was completely on your own accord."

"Excuses..."

With that, a shining white orb appeared before him. He looked up at the God with narrowed eyes and took a step back.

"This is the Sphere of Dreams. Take it into your hands once you have decided."

The man looked skeptically over the sphere that was levitating on the air in front of him and bit his lower lip in frustration, "What's the point of having my wish granted when so many people have already died... What's the point if I can't be together with that person... Can I... Can I even continue keep on living in this world?" he whispered, mostly at himself, but suddenly after that, he quickly raised his head and turned to look at the God with eyes full of determination, as a last second idea crossed his mind, "Is anything truly possible? Can I really ask anything?"

"That is correct."

The young man looked once more at the sphere before him and clenched tightly his fists, "This is my only chance... I hope this works...," he thought and took in a deep breath, walked closer and finally took the sphere into his hands, "I have decided," he voiced and gave the God of Creation one last look of determination which he didn't seemed to be fond of.

"Very well then...

Your wish shall be granted."