~~~

  Ryujin Amane.

  That was his name.

  The light from the door enveloped Jin completely, wrapping around his formless consciousness like a shroud. He felt himself falling through layers of reality, each one peeling away masks he didn't know he'd been wearing. Identity after identity stripped down until nothing remained except whatever core truth existed beneath all the lies.

  When the light finally faded and Jin's awareness stabilized, he found himself standing in a massive library.

  Standing. He had a body again—or at least the perception of one. Jin looked down at hands that seemed solid despite knowing this was all happening inside his own mind.

  Wow!

  The library stretched into infinity in every direction. Endless shelves rising toward ceilings that disappeared into distant shadows. Books of every conceivable size and color packed the shelves—some glowing with soft luminescence, others seeming to absorb light like miniature black holes.

  The smell hit him next—old paper and leather binding mixed with something metallic underneath that he couldn't quite identify. Sound filtered in gradually: pages turning despite no wind existing in this space, the creak of ancient wood settling.

  This is... inside my head? This is what my mind realm looks like?

  "Impressive, isn't it?"

  The Eye floated beside Jin, its pupil dilating with what might have been approval. Up close, Jin could see details he'd missed before—the way galaxies actually rotated slowly within the iris, the patterns that seemed to govern the pupil's movements, the sense that looking too long into those depths would reveal truths no mortal mind was meant to comprehend.

  "This is your true mind realm," the Presence continued, its voice resonating through Jin's consciousness with that same struck-crystal quality. "The manifestation of your inner self, given form. And it appears as a library."

  A pause, then something that might have been laughter— simultaneously beautiful and terrifying.

  "How delightfully fitting for someone who lived and died with their nose buried in stories. Even your subconscious defaults to cataloging information in book form."

  "Who are you?"

  The words came out raw, stripped of the careful control Jin usually maintained. He was done with games. Done with cryptic bullshit. Done with being led around like a puppet whose strings he'd just realized existed.

  The Eye focused on him with uncomfortable intensity.

  "Is that truly what you want to know?" The Presence's tone carried genuine curiosity. "Of all the questions burning through your mind right now, that's the one you choose to ask first?"

  "No." Jin's voice cracked, emotion bleeding through despite his best efforts to suppress it. "No, fuck the pleasantries and the cosmic entity bullshit. Did you manipulate my mind? Did you make me do things? Make me think things that weren't my own? Was any of it real or have I been..."

  The words died because saying them out loud would make them too real, would force him to confront possibilities that terrified him more than any necromancer or dungeon boss ever had.

  Puppet. The word is puppet. Have I been someone's puppet this entire time?

  The Eye's corner curved upward in that alien expression Jin was starting to recognize as amusement—though what passed for humor in an eldritch entity probably had nothing to do with human concepts of comedy.

  "Not quite, young Harvest." The Presence's form rippled slightly, galaxies within its iris spinning faster. "I am, as you have already deduced by now, an outer deity—what your limited human frameworks would categorize as a primordial entity. Something that existed before your world was born and will likely exist long after it crumbles to dust."

  Jin waited, knowing there was more.

  "My presence here in this world is severely limited by cosmic laws that govern all higher beings' interference in lower realms. Think of it like... regulations. Divine bureaucracy, if you will. I cannot simply do whatever I want without consequences that would make your soul damage look like a papercut."

  The Eye drifted closer, and Jin resisted the urge to step back.

  "I'm not a faith-based deity like the ones your world worships—those children playing at godhood with their prayer systems and divine hierarchies, demanding sacrifice and devotion in exchange for scraps of power." Something like contempt bled into the Presence's tone. "I was once like you. A cultivator pursuing the path of power through understanding rather than worship. Mortal, vulnerable, clawing my way up from nothing."

  A pause that stretched, heavy with ages Jin couldn't fathom.

  "But as I climbed higher, touched deeper concepts, reached for truths beyond mortal comprehension... these physical forms lose their meaning. Flesh becomes optional. Identity becomes fluid. I am what you might call an eldritch horror if we're being dramatic about it—though I prefer to think of myself as simply... evolved."

  The Eye's pupil expanded until Jin could see what looked like entire universes being born and dying in rapid succession.

  "Once you start touching higher concepts—the material world becomes less a home and more a distant memory. Something you observe rather than participate in."

  Jin processed this with growing horror mixed with morbid fascination. "So you're saying you used to be human? Or whatever passes for human in your original world?"

  "Once upon a time, yes.”

  "But to answer your original question directly," the Presence continued, "No. I did not manipulate your mind. I lack the power to do so while operating within the constraints this world places on my manifestation. Direct mental manipulation would trigger divine countermeasures from the Primes that would... well, let's just say it wouldn't end well for either of us."

  Jin felt relief starting to bloom in his chest—

  "However."

  —and immediately die.

  "The answer to what manipulated you lies here. Right in your mind realm, in the deepest parts where even you don't consciously look." The Eye's voice took on weight that made the library itself seem to shudder. "The reason for your existence as ordained by fate. The purpose behind your reincarnation. The truth of why I said your fate is akin to a cow being fattened for slaughter."

  Silence fell between them, broken only by the constant whisper of turning pages.

  "But before we begin down that particular rabbit hole," the Presence said, "tell me—how deep does your knowledge about this world actually run?"

  Knowledge about this world. Right. Because I'm a reincarnator with meta-knowledge.

  Jin's thoughts raced, trying to comprehend what game this cosmic entity was playing. Coming up empty on viable strategies, he defaulted to honesty—because lying to something that could probably read his mind like an open book seemed pointlessly stupid.

  "I've read of this world as a story," Jin said carefully. "Multiple volumes, actually. I know all the major events that are supposed to happen over the next decade—the awakening of ancient threats, the fall of major cities, political upheavals between kingdoms, power struggles between different factions competing for dominance."

  He paused, then continued with growing bitterness.

  "And I know about the eventual destruction of this entire world by the Chaos Incarnate descending in less than a decade. The apocalypse that ends everything."

  The Eye studied him for several long moments, and Jin had the uncomfortable sensation of being dissected without anesthesia—every thought, every memory, every secret laid bare under that cosmic gaze.

  "So you know everything," the Presence said slowly, thoughtfully, "yet nothing at all. How ironic."

  Jin frowned. If there was one thing he took pride in—one advantage he'd thought gave him an edge over everyone else in this death world—it was his knowledge. His meta-awareness of how events should unfold.

  And this thing is telling me I know nothing?

  "What's that supposed to mean?" The words came out sharper than Jin intended, defensiveness bleeding through.

  "It means, young Harvest, that you've been reading a story written by a mortal, a human one with bias and a specific thought process." The Eye's tone carried genuine amusement now. "You know what dishes will be served to customers, but you have absolutely no idea how the restaurant actually operates. The suppliers provide ingredients. The staff hierarchy. The economic system funds everything. The why behind what gets cooked and who gets to eat it."

  The Eye drifted closer, and Jin found himself unable to look away from those galactic depths.

  "You know the story. The surface narrative. The events were meant to be witnessed by readers consuming entertainment. But you don't know the machinery beneath that makes those events possible. The cosmic game board. The players are moving pieces. The stakes are being wagered on outcomes you think are predetermined."

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Jin felt cold spreading through his manifested form—not physical cold, but the chill of realization that he'd been operating on incomplete information this entire time.

  How much don't I know? What crucial details am I missing?

  The Eye continued relentlessly. "Tell me this, Jin Winters—are you the only reincarnator?"

  Time seemed to freeze.

  Jin's mind went blank for a heartbeat, then exploded into motion. Memories of reading "Mantle of Gods" raced through his consciousness—every volume, every chapter, every forum discussion and fan theory he'd consumed during that marathon reading session before... before he died. Before he woke up here.

  He was ready to answer immediately, to say with absolute certainty: Yes. The story never mentioned any other reincarnators. The protagonists were native-born. No otherworlders appeared in the narrative.

  But something about the way the Presence asked stopped him cold. The emphasis on 'only'. The certainty in its tone suggested it already knew the answer. The patience of something that was testing whether Jin would figure it out or needed to be told.

  Jin chose his words with surgical precision, suddenly aware he was navigating a minefield.

  "I haven't read... or rather, there were no mentions of any such individuals appearing in the next decade." He emphasized 'mentions' deliberately. "At least not in the main narrative or any of the supplementary materials I consumed."

  The Eye's corner curved upward sharply—that alien smile widening with clear approval.

  "Ah. How carefully you phrase that. How you avoid claiming they don't exist, only that they weren't mentioned in your particular version of events." The Presence practically purred with satisfaction. "You're learning faster than I expected. That survivor's instinct of yours picking up on subtext and implications."

  Oh fuck. Oh fuck, there are others. There have to be others if it's asking like this.

  "How many?" Jin heard himself ask.

  "More than you'd expect. But we're getting ahead of ourselves." The Eye began drifting forward through the library, moving with purposeful direction. "Follow me, young Harvest. It's time to show you what lies in the deepest part of your mind realm—the parts even you don't consciously examine."

  Jin hesitated for exactly one second before following. What choice did he have? This thing held all the cards, and refusing would only delay the inevitable revelation.

  The Presence moved in perfectly straight lines through the impossible architecture, passing through solid-looking walls like they didn't exist—which, Jin supposed, they probably didn't since this was all happening inside his own head anyway.

  Jin approached the first wall and gulped. The Eye made it look easy, but that didn't mean—

  He stepped forward.

  Pain.

  Not the soul damage from before. Not the agony of harvesting the necromancer's life force. Something worse in ways that defied description. Like every cell of his manifested body was being unraveled and rewoven incorrectly. Like his consciousness itself was being shredded through a grater made of broken glass and spite. Like reality was actively rejecting his presence in this space, trying to eject him from his own mind through sheer metaphysical violence.

  This is the worst pain I've ever felt.

  But Jin took another step anyway.

  And another.

  And—

  All pain vanished instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.

  Jin stumbled forward, gasping despite having no lungs, and found himself through the wall with the Presence waiting patiently on the other side.

  "Apologies, young Harvest." The Eye's tone was completely unapologetic. "I could have taken away your pain from the start, made this walk easy and comfortable for you. Simply removed the resistance your mind naturally creates when forcing consciousness deeper than it wants to go."

  A pause that felt deliberately theatrical.

  "But then if your will was weak—if you'd been unable to take that final step forward through absolute agony—you would have failed this test. And I would have known you weren't worth my time or investment."

  I’m getting tired of all the tests and bullshits… All I want now is my beer and fried chicken, probably…

  Jin fell into the Eternal Sovereign breathing pattern instinctively, letting the familiar rhythm bring clarity through discipline. The cold washed over his manifested form, sharpening his awareness until every detail stood out in crystalline focus.

  When his thoughts settled, Jin found himself standing at the center of the library. The shelves here were different—older, dustier, filled with books that looked like they hadn't been opened in years. Memories I've buried, he realized. Experiences from both lives that I've deliberately chosen not to examine.

  But what caught his attention was what floated above the center of the space.

  A massive diamond, easily ten meters across, hovered in midair while radiating golden light so pure and beautiful it made Jin's chest ache just looking at it. The illumination seemed to pulse in rhythm with something—a heartbeat, maybe, or the fundamental essence of existence itself.

  Beautiful.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" The Presence's voice echoed his thought.

  "Yeah..." Jin couldn't look away from the radiance. "Is that... is that my soul?"

  The laughter that emerged from the Eye was dark, amused, and carried eons of knowledge Jin suddenly wasn't sure he wanted.

  "Young Harvest, if only you could see what I see, you wouldn't consider that thing beautiful at all."

  What?

  But before Jin could ask, the Presence continued.

  "That brings us back to the issue at hand—why am I doing this? Why show you these truths? Why go through all this effort for two mortal teenagers who should be beneath my notice?"

  Jin waited, barely breathing, while the Eye drifted closer to the diamond.

  "It's simple, really. You and your friend Rudy piqued my interest, and I'd like to become your patron. That's all."

  The words landed with deceptive casualness that immediately triggered every alarm bell in Jin's mind.

  No. Nothing is ever that simple with beings like this. There's always more.

  "What does that even mean?" Jin asked carefully. "Becoming our patron?"

  "It means exactly what it sounds like. I become your supporter—your mentor, your guide through the complexities of power that would otherwise kill you long before you reached your potential. I provide resources, knowledge, protection when similar beings like me intervene."

  The Eye focused on Jin with uncomfortable intensity.

  "In return, you would simply fall under my faction. Align yourself with my interests in the grand game of cosmic politics. Represent me, in a sense, as you grow stronger and more influential."

  Jin's mind raced through implications. "This isn't an offer, is it?"

  The Eye's corner curved upward sharply—that alien smile widening with clear approval.

  "Very good. You're learning much faster than I expected. Yes, Jin Winters—this is not a request. Not really. This is me showing you the board while explaining which pieces you can still control before the game ends, with you swept off entirely."

  A pause that carried weight.

  "One of my companions, with whom I journeyed in my younger days when I was still mortal enough to call friends by that name, taught me some very crucial lessons. Lessons I remember even now after countless eons of existence and transformation."

  The Eye's pupil expanded, showing glimpses of battles fought on scales that made galaxies look small.

  "Never leave anything to chance. Never accept 50/50 odds when you can stack the deck. Never play fair when cheating is an option. I wanted both you and Rudy under my faction, so I'm playing my hand in ways that demonstrate my goodwill while simultaneously proving my power."

  Everything clicked into place with terrible certainty.

  "And I'll die—100% guaranteed—if I don't accept," Jin said quietly. Not a question.

  "Not immediately," the Presence corrected. "But yes—eventual death is certain. Your condition isn't unique, you see. Your gods—what do you call them? The Primes? Those five supreme deities your world worships?"

  Where is this going?

  "They summon quite a lot of reincarnators from lower realms. Have been doing so for millennia. Thousands upon thousands of souls plucked from worlds where magic doesn't exist, where cultivation is fantasy, where power progression barely reaches what you'd call Mortal rank."

  A pause that made Jin's blood run cold.

  "Wonder why none of them ever became famous? Why, with all that supposed knowledge from other worlds—all that meta-awareness of tropes and patterns—not a single one managed to change the course of history? Surely some of them should have succeeded where you're currently failing?"

  Oh god. Oh fuck, what is it saying?

  "You played your hand very well," Jin said, voice hollow. "Every piece positioned perfectly so I couldn't see the trap until I was already inside it."

  "Oh, of course I did. And this is something you need to learn as well, Jin—positioning, timing, leverage. Because you'll need all the strength, all the cunning, all the ruthless calculation you can muster for what's waiting in Vienna when you eventually wake up."

  "You're talking like me accepting this deal is already decided?"

  "Isn't it?" The Eye focused on him with that uncomfortable intensity. "Refuse my patronage and die from soul damage that no healer in this realm can fix, and that’s just one of the problems. Or accept and gain the power—and knowledge—to actually survive what's coming. Simple mathematics."

  Jin stared at the Eye for a long moment, weighing options that weren't really options at all. Finally, he sighed.

  "You better not have weird tendencies. And I'm not worshipping you—I don't care how much power you offer."

  The laughter that emerged was genuine this time, carrying amusement that almost seemed human.

  "No need, Jin. No need at all. I don't require worship or prayer or any of that tedious faith-based nonsense. I require competence. Prove you're worth the investment, and we'll get along fine."

  Jin held out his hand—realized he had no physical hand in this space—and thought the acceptance as clearly as he could.

  The Eye flashed with light that burned through every layer of Jin's consciousness, searing something fundamental into the core of what he was.

  [PACT ACCEPTED.]

  The sensation was like having his soul branded with cosmic fire—not painful exactly, but intense in ways that left him shaking.

  "Good," the Presence said with satisfaction. "Now, young Harvest... see the truth of yourself."

  Reality shifted.

  The library walls began to warp, architecture bending in ways that violated every law of physics Jin knew. Books fell from shelves that suddenly weren't there. The golden light from the diamond above started to flicker, pulsing erratically like a dying star.

  "Reality is not what you think it is, Jin Winters." The Presence's voice came from everywhere and nowhere, carrying weight that made existence itself seem to shudder. "Your gods are not benevolent. Your world is not random. Your reincarnation was not chance or luck or divine reward for a virtuous life."

  The light began to fade.

  "And you..."

  Everything went black.

  "...you were never the protagonist of this story."

  Complete sensory deprivation. Jin floated in absolute nothing for a moment that stretched like eternity.

  When awareness returned, the world had changed.

  The once-pristine, magnificent library was now a ruin. Decayed and destroyed. Books rotted on collapsed shelves, pages turned to dust. Architecture crumbled into rubble. Everything was covered in thick layers of corruption that pulsed with sickly light—wrong colors that hurt to perceive, like looking at ultraviolet through human eyes.

  "See the truth, Jin Winters." The Presence's voice continued relentlessly in the background. "You are not the only reincarnator. Not even close. The Primes have been doing this for millennia—summoning souls from lower realms where power progression scales mundane, where magic doesn't exist, where paths to immortality are fantasy and fiction."

  Jin's legs moved without conscious command, pulling him forward through the ruined library toward the center where the diamond still floated.

  "They choose souls from these powerless worlds deliberately. Humans who never cultivated essence, never touched concepts, never walked the paths that lead to true strength. Malleable. Easily influenced. Perfect vessels for—"

  Jin's vision cleared enough to see what had replaced the beautiful diamond.

  A massive blobulous mass of flesh squatted where radiance had been. Pulsing. Writhing. Feeding.

  Thousands of tendrils extended from the grotesque biomass, each one buried deep into a diamond that was no longer golden and radiant but dull, cracked, barely glowing with fading light.

  "—That is the truth, Jin. You were never special. Never chosen. Never the reincarnator destined to save the world or change fate."

  Jin's legs carried him closer despite every instinct screaming to run.

  "You were feed. Sustenance. Livestock being fattened for slaughter. The method the Primes use to farm karma."

  At arm's distance from the diamond, Jin finally saw what was reflected in its cracked surface.

  Twin naked images—reflections of both his lives suspended like insects in amber. Ryujin Amane from Earth. Jin Winters in this world. Both versions of himself were frozen mid-scream while the parasitic mass fed on their essence, their memories, their very souls.

  Blood began seeping from Jin's eyes—actual blood, despite having no physical form that should be capable of bleeding. But he forced himself to keep looking. Forced himself to witness the truth of what he was.

  Not a hero.

  Not a survivor.

  Prey.

  The Presence's final words echoed through the ruined library with the weight of cosmic judgment:

  "Welcome to the Harvest Farm, Jin Winters. Now you know what you really are."

  ~~~

  A/N: Phew~ How was this chapter! Let me know of your thought, guys! T^T

  ....

  Bonus chapters drop when I hit the goal!

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  ?^>?<^ ?