The Price of Justice

CH 1 : The Two Paths

Orzil Ceylon was no ordinary boy. Born into luxury, he lived the life of a young, spoiled aristocrat, indulging in the whims and desires his wealth could afford. From a young age, he had everything he could ever want, yet unlike others who grew jaded by privilege, Orzil held onto an unusual kindness. Despite his riches, he had a compassionate heart, spending much of his fortune on helping the poor. It wasn't something his family taught him; it was a calling, a need to balance his fortune with acts of good. But destiny had other plans.

One fateful day, Orzil was strolling along the city's bustling streets, thinking about the world and his place in it. He saw a poor family across the road and reached into his pockets, thinking to offer them money. Yet in that moment, a speeding bus came hurtling toward him. Before he could react, it struck him, and with a sickening thud, he was thrown to the ground. The pain was indescribable. His hand was shattered, and his leg lay torn from his body. Through gritted teeth and streaming tears, he whispered, "Dear Lord, please forgive me. Whatever sins I've committed, please forgive me. It's my end in another life I want I can proud my people and my family "

With those words, Orzil felt his consciousness fading, slipping into a realm of darkness. Yet, to his astonishment, his journey didn't end there. He awoke in a vast, colorless void, devoid of any life or sound, as if he were stranded in a timeless, eternal abyss. There was no sign of escape or any passage of time. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and eventually years—five years, to be precise, though each "year" in this place felt like a hundred Earth years. The emptiness of this strange void gnawed at his mind, but Orzil was not one to give in. Instead, he taught himself how to survive, crafting tools from the sparse materials he could find, sharpening his intellect, and cultivating every skill he could to endure the silence.

But despite his efforts, he learned nothing of fighting, nor did he find anyone to share his solitude. It was only him and the darkness.

Then, one day, breaking the monotony of his existence, a sudden flicker of light appeared in front of him—a screen that read, "Level: 1." He blinked, stunned. After all this time, this screen was the only new thing he had seen in what felt like centuries.

The words "System Symbolic" flashed at the top. Confused, he studied it. Below the title, two symbols appeared, each offering him a path forward.
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1. Freedom: "You will gain unrestricted access to do anything you desire. However, you must kill to survive and may not justify the actions of those you kill."

2. Justice: "You will have complete freedom, but you must uphold justice wherever you go. Listen to those who speak the truth, regardless of who they are Devil Angel Spiritsor even Human . Choosing the path of Justice grants you ten Earth years (1,000 years here), but beware: for every lie, your lifespan decreases by one hundred years."
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Orzil's heart pounded as he read the conditions, feeling the weight of each choice. Freedom promised immortality, an endless life filled with power but stained with the necessity of taking life without justification. Justice, on the other hand, demanded truth and compassion, holding him to a higher moral code but limiting his lifespan with each lie.

"This isn't fair," he muttered. Immortality through Freedom held a certain allure, yet the idea of becoming a cold-hearted killer repelled him. Deep within, the idea of being a figure of justice felt honorable, resonating with something deep inside him.

Resolving his internal struggle, Orzil sighed and selected Justice. The screen flickered and then faded to black. As the light dimmed, Orzil called out, "Hey! System, where are you going? Aren't you supposed to guide me?"

A faint, fading voice replied, "This is your path, Orzil. You've chosen Justice, and I must now find another to choose Freedom, so I, too, may be free and at peace."

With those last words, the light vanished, and Orzil felt himself falling through space. As he landed, he opened his eyes to a sight that stole his breath. Around him lay a city that defied all understanding, filled with floating buildings, streets suspended mid-air, and colors that seemed to shimmer and pulse with life. Towers stretched skyward, and pathways twisted through the air like ribbons.

Orzil wandered, mesmerized by his surroundings. People bustled about, each figure appearing otherworldly, their faces a blend of human and something more. Though the city brimmed with life, no one paid him any mind. He was an outsider here, and as he tried to find a place to stay, he realized that most residences were closed off to him.

Determined, Orzil continued his search, eventually coming upon a small, secluded village called Pegasus. He decided he would build his own home here, a place befitting his newfound purpose. With his knowledge from the void, he crafted a structure unlike any other in the village.

Orzil's mansion looked like something straight out of a dream. It was really impressive but had a spooky charm about it, with tall columns and stone walls that were covered in ivy. The stained glass windows threw colorful shadows all over the rooms. An iron gate marked the entrance, leading to a long, winding driveway that wrapped around a courtyard featuring a fountain with mythical creatures.

Inside, the mansion was vast and dimly lit, with hallways that twisted and seemed to lead nowhere. Rumors quickly spread among the villagers of Pegasus, who marveled at the new structure, wondering what kind of man could build such an eerie yet awe-inspiring home.

Yet, even with his mansion completed, Orzil's journey was only beginning. Bound by the system's rules, he felt the weight of justice upon him like a cloak. He was no longer just a spoiled child of wealth but a man bound by a promise—a promise to bring justice wherever he walked. In this strange world of floating buildings and majestic landscapes, he would soon discover that justice would demand much of him, testing his resolve and his honor.

For Orzil, life had truly begun.

© SATURDAY