The One Who Writes Existence-Chapter 35: The Game begins

A soft clink echoed through the grand chamber as Zar set his cup down, the delicate porcelain meeting the saucer with practiced ease.

The tea was surprisingly pleasant, its warmth settling within him as he leaned back in his chair. The vast castle around him stood as a testament to dominion—its towering spires stretching toward the heavens, its marble halls adorned with ancient carvings that whispered forgotten stories.

The air carried a faint chill, but the gentle breeze drifting through the arched balcony doors softened it, mixing with the faint hum of the city outside.

Zar exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest before speaking.

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"Now then, System," he mused, his voice calm, edged with curiosity. "Why don't you give me some pointers on how this round's rules will play out?"

A pause. Then, like a scholar about to impart knowledge, the system's voice rang in his mind.

[Hmmm... Well, since the theme of this round is survival, let's make it truly live up to its name.]

The voice carried a thoughtful tone, as if it were constructing the perfect scenario in real-time.

[The game will take place in a ruined world—one where the contestants will have to eliminate each other until only one remains standing.]

Zar tilted his head slightly, swirling his tea before lifting it to his lips again.

"And how far can they go?"

[They can do anything to win,] the system stated, its tone growing sharper. [No restrictions. No mercy. There is only one rule—no alliances. No teaming up. Everyone fights alone.]

A smirk played at the corner of Zar's lips. "Interesting..." He tapped a finger against the table, considering the implications. "I should drop a hint about that part—'anything to win'—to stir things up a little."

[Ah, a good decision] the system acknowledged. [Adding an element of psychological tension will make the game far more entertaining.]

Setting the cup down for the final time, Zar stretched, his arms reaching outward as he let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction.

"Then the game is set," he declared.

The system remained silent, observing as he rose from his seat and made his way toward the balcony. The open air greeted him with a crisp breeze, the view stretching endlessly before him.

The city below bustled with life energy, a realm teeming with energy, yet his focus was set beyond all that. His gaze drifted toward the endless sky—a vast, empty canvas waiting to be painted with chaos.

He rested both hands on the railing, exhaling slowly. Then, his voice carried with an edge of anticipation.

"Now, let's get to real work."

Extending a hand outward, he willed a new world into existence.

Darkness swirled in his palm, coalescing into shape. Shadows twisted and stretched, molding themselves into a land that had once stood proud—only to be reduced to devastation. Mountains lay severed, jagged cliffs standing as remnants of an earth long shattered. Ruined cities sprawled in lifeless silence, their broken towers leaning at unnatural angles as if whispering the tales of their fall. The air was thick with dust, and the very ground seemed to bear the weight of history—a battlefield that had already seen destruction beyond comprehension.

Yet, for all its ruin, the world was strong. It was not fragile, not something that could be easily shattered. This land had endured the clash of unfathomable forces and still remained standing. It was designed to withstand gods, to be the stage for power beyond mortal comprehension.

Zar's hands moved with precision, sculpting each detail with effortless mastery. The broken cities, the barren lands, the skies heavy with the echoes of war—it was all falling into place. But just as he was about to finalize its formation, the system's voice interrupted him.

[Wait.]

Zar's brow furrowed slightly, but he halted his movements. "Why?"

The system's tone carried something... different this time. Amusement?

[I was thinking of helping you with this.]

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Helping?"

A shimmering model materialized before him, hovering in the air. It was a projection of the ruined world as envisioned by the system—a twisted, broken realm, yet meticulously designed. The placement of devastation, the way destruction and endurance coexisted—it was flawless.

Zar studied it for a moment, taking in the details. Then, he smirked. "Fine."

Together, they continued crafting. The ruins took form in their full grandeur, solidifying into existence. Unlike a multiverse, this realm had no threads of existence woven into its foundation—because it did not need them. A multiverse required those threads to sustain its infinite nature, to hold its immeasurable weight together.

But this?

This was a battlefield. It did not need to be bound by the vast intricacies of creation. It was built for one purpose—to endure destruction.

At last, the final piece fell into place. Zar raised his hand, and in response, the entire world began to shrink. The towering cities, the sprawling wastelands, the entire expanse of the ruined battlefield—all of it condensed into a mere speck, fitting effortlessly in the palm of his hand.

He examined it for a brief moment, then with a flick of his wrist, he hurled it from the balcony. The tiny speck shot forward like a shooting star, piercing through the void, traveling across countless verses at incomprehensible speed.

A satisfied grin tugged at his lips.

"Now all work's done."

Far beyond, in the silent abyss of space, the world he had thrown began to slow. It came to a sudden, eerie stillness, floating in the vast nothingness.

And then—

Boom.

It expanded in an instant, unfurling itself into existence like it had always belonged there. The ruined realm now drifted in the abyss, an unshaken monument to destruction, waiting—anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.

A perfect stage.