Prologue:

It was dark. Snow descended slowly from the cloudy sky, and an occasional cool breeze would cause Alastair to shiver uncontrollably, forcing him to wrap himself even tighter into his warm winter coat. The precinct was mostly empty, with only a few pedestrians crossing the road from time to time, but that was to be expected; not many would dare to venture out of their cozy homes at this hour.

Letting out a long breath, the man reached into his pocket, desperately trying to fish something out.

“Fuck, finally!” After a minute of unavailing effort, he swore in apparent annoyance as he, at last, managed to take out something that resembled a gas lighter, “I can’t feel my hands, damn it.”

Fruitlessly trying to get even a tiny spark to come out of the goddamned device with his shaky hands, Alastair gradually got off the bench; substantial concentration was clearly visible on his face.

“For fuck’s sake!” At length, he let out a loud groan as the lighter slipped out of his frosted hands and fell somewhere into the cold snow below. His face grimaced in momentary rage.

Alastair took a deep breath.

‘Fuck it.’ He thought, helplessly dropping back onto the frozen bench - his day was getting worse by the minute. With nothing better left to do, Alastair looked around. The darkness was so dense that even with his sharp vision, he could barely make out beyond an arms reach in front of him in most directions, only to the far right, near an old abandoned apartment block, a semi-broken lamp post could be seen dimly illuminating the surroundings. Alastair’s gaze wandered up the dilapidated wall towards the rooftop.

‘Beautiful.’ The man sighed in bitter awe. He certainly wasn’t expecting such glamour, not anywhere near something as wretched. Myriads of crystal clear icicles of all shapes and sizes hung from the side of the wall like a frozen waterfall. They eagerly absorbed every little bit of light they could and, with its help, glistened in full glory. Reflected and bent by the ice, the formerly dim light seemed to gain a life of its own: it playfully dashed from icicle to icicle until finally falling onto the old rundown wall, setting it ablaze. The contrast was so astoundingly obvious, yet the two seemed to somehow harmonise, complete each other, even. Alastair’s eyes lit up for a second. The majestic grandeur seemed to touch something deep within him, he couldn’t understand what, but he felt somehow reassured, hopeful.

Alastair violently shook his head, dispelling the nostalgic atmosphere that began to cloud his mind; better than anyone, he understood that it is beauty that hides the greatest of danger within. Once again, his gaze became absent as it started wandering aimlessly across the bland landscape. After some time, his eyes, for a second time, stopped on the wall; unlike before, it seemed to now lose all of its former splendour: the icicles no longer contained magic, the light didn’t appear joyful and alive, and the wall, the wall wasn’t even worth mentioning.

Alastair sighed in disappointment; it was time to go.

“Waaaah!” A loud cry abruptly stopped the man in his tracks. Alastair curiously turned his head towards the sound. Unexpectedly, it was coming somewhere from the direction of the battered apartment block that he had been observing not long ago. The man squinted his eyes. From here, he could barely discern what was going on. With nonchalant strides, he began to approach the scene.

A young woman, apparently somewhere in her twenties, was trekking right through the humps of deep snow that have, over time, assembled under the block. In her trembling arms, she carefully held a newborn baby, which occasionally would let out loud, ear-hurting cries. Every time he heard a new cry, Alastair would mildly wince in obvious affliction. At first glance, he could tell that she was in a desperate rush.

Alastair’s unperturbed gaze travelled up towards the icicles and then back to the young mother, ‘People trust luck too much with their lives; they really shouldn’t.’ he shook his head in disapproval.

‘Should I tell her?’ He rubbed his chin, contemplating for a second, before reasoning, ‘Nah, too far away, she wouldn’t hear anyways.’ Alastair looked on with curiosity.

“Almost there,” the woman muttered wearily under her breath, “Goddamned Duber, their shitty loafing drivers can’t even do their job properly; I’ll never rely on their services again!” With every step she took, her feet sunk deeper and deeper into the seemingly infinite layers of snow, and cold began to slowly seep further into her skin, causing the woman’s body to tremble violently. Worried, she looked at the baby. Even with the extra protection from her coat, it was getting restless by the minute; it screamed and rolled in her arms relentlessly, only adding to the already long list of her troubles.

“Almost there,” the woman lovingly caressed the baby’s head through the many thick layers of clothing between them, trying to calm the poor creature down, “Almost there.” She slowly repeated the phrase as if chanting a litany, this time more to herself. Her pace quickened as she continued on, her heart heavy with a black premonition.

Clap!

A sudden thunderous roar sounded somewhere from above. Looking up, the woman froze. All colour momentarily drained from her already pale face. Instinctively she took a step back, her disbelieving eyes locked onto the side of the roof above. ‘Nno way…’ she thought, taking another step back, ‘This can’t be right…’ a look of unwillingness surfaced on her empty face.

No longer able to support her own weight, she dropped to her knees, holding the baby tightly in her clutches. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she whispered shakily as her warm lips pressed against the baby’s chilly forehead, “I’m so sorry….”

Alastair blinked in apparent stupefaction. “What the…” he muttered faintly under his breath as the ice began to show signs of collapsing.

Kkkrrrrr!

With an audible clap, one after the other, the icicles began to detach from the frozen roof. In slow motion, like ethereal spears, they launched into their inevitable descent. Vacantly, the man looked on as the mother fell to her knees, pressing her baby as close to her chest as she could, her horror-filled eyes not leaving the roof for a moment.

Bam!

After what seemed like an eternity, the first piece of fatal ice made contact with the girl’s head. A small stream of blood trickled down her forehead as her body rocked back uncontrollably, supposedly rendered unconscious.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Booom!

Without a hint of mercy, hefty chunks of ice mixed with snow continued to rain down in all directions, palpably determined to finish what they had begun. In just a few moments, both the woman and the baby were gone from his sight, covered by a fluffy white carpet.

Alastair slowly opened his mouth only to helplessly close it back the next moment, not a word escaping his trembling blue lips.

‘I did want to warn her, but…’ he thought vacuously as his unseeing gaze began to finally take focus, ‘but to think… they were actually going to die… truly, I am flabbergasted….’

Finally, he began to trudge in their direction. His pace wasn’t hurried, nor was it too slow as he approached the scene; he appeared somewhat relaxed.

Alastair didn’t really feel any sense of emergency; he didn’t believe they had even the slimmest of chances of survival - in his mind, all odds were against them. Even if they did manage to somehow miraculously escape death’s tight clutches, he wasn’t about to help - dealing with the police and potential allegations was not something that he wished to have a taste of; all he was willing to offer at this point is a quick, anonymous call.

The man stopped in the middle of the empty driveway, a mobile phone in his hands. With his stiff fingers, he gradually managed to enter the desired number and make a call.

“Police department of Pochinki, officer Gordon speaking, how can I help you, sir?” A dull, monotonous voice came out of the telephone’s loudspeakers, informing Alastair of the successful connection.

“I would like to report a case of numerous incidental deaths due to a natural phenomenon.” Answered the man blandly; for some reason, he didn’t feel worried at all; in fact, his former foul mood seemed to miraculously disappear, being replaced with utter disinterest.

“Huh?!” After a few seconds, the officer released a surprised breath, his tone becoming more urgent, “Sir, please inform me of your location immediately and help will be sent as soon as possible; meanwhile, please remain on the phone.”

“Right,” Alastair sighed, giving the officer the required information, “If that is it, then I’ll be taking my leave.”

Without bothering to wait for a response, Alastair closed his phone and put it back into his pocket. A tired sigh escaped his lips; finally, it was time to go.

Beeeeeep! beeeep!

Beeeeeeeeeeep!

The man’s train of thought was unceremoniously interrupted by loud beeping and bright flashing light.

‘Fuck,’ he thought before everything faded to black.

*****

Alastair slowly opened his eyes. Everything was engulfed in darkness. No matter where he looked, no matter how hard he tried, all he could see was… nothing. Again, he closed his eyes, but the darkness remained as if not anything was done at all.

“Where am I?” He wondered aloud, confusion visible on his face, “Am I in a coma? No, then I wouldn’t be thinking.” He quickly dismissed, “Must be something else… Am I perhaps… dead?”

“As dead as it gets.”

“What?” The man froze for a second before quickly spinning around in a useless attempt to locate the speaker. “Fucking hell, did that truck hit me so hard that I am now hallucinating?”

“Don’t know about the hallucinations, but it sure did get you pretty hard. Heck, you should have seen yourself fly; it was quite a sight to behold, if I may say.”

“Where?!” Questioned Alastair, visibly perplexed. Oddly enough, the voice seemed to be coming from all directions at once, and from nowhere at the same time, it was quite difficult to describe this sensation and pinpointing the source was certainly out of question. “Who are you?”

“Me? That’s a difficult question…” replied the voice after a while, “Though not exactly, but you can call me god.” God paused for a second, letting the information seep through before continuing, “At the moment, you are, in a way, located inside me; this makes it a lot easier to keep your soul from dispersing.”

“Right…” Alastair mumbled with a hint of confusion and doubt in his voice, “Then what do I own the honour for… God?”

“Oh my, how polite,” ridiculed the voice, “You do understand that I can read your thoughts, right?”

“I would suspect so,” Alastair answered, still a little confused. He understood that if he was truly talking to god, then manners would hardly matter when the difference in power was so pronounced.

“I would like to invite you to play one very fun game.” The voice proposed.

“What sort of game?” Alastair’s asked cautiously, his voice riddled with suspicion; he just couldn’t make himself believe that this so-called god didn’t have a hidden motive.

“Oh, you’ve played it already, it’s called life!” the voice sounded excited, “All I’m doing is offering you a second chance in round two.” His immediate response caused the man’s face to darken.

‘Don’t tell me I’ve lived in the matrix all this time,” a crazy thought ran through his mind as he was trying to find the right words, “Well, to be frank, I didn’t find it all that fun, especially the ending… it was a little too rushed for my taste.” He finally spoke his mind.

“Haha, you sure do know how to make a joke,” God laughed wholeheartedly, “What’s amazing about life is its unprecedented amount of storylines and playable characters. I admit, you got a little unlucky this time, but on your side, the run wasn’t a total failure, right? Just thinking about that poor mother and child makes me want to cry, you know.”

“I doubt it.” Alastair shook his head with suspicion; he didn’t believe a single word he had heard.

“Well, it’s not like you are any different,” God said with power, “They could still be well and alive had you pushed them out of harm’s way.”

“And traded my life for the lives of two complete strangers?” Alastair raised his eyebrow, evidently questioning God’s reasoning.

“Not that you got to keep it anyways,” noticing his reaction, the voice retorted, “ You might as well have done something useful…”

“…”

“Anyways,” finally the god decided to change topics, “What do you think about my little offer? I’m even willing to throw in a little bonus if you agree.”

“What sort of bonus?” Wondered Alastair as a bad feeling began surfacing somewhere deep within him.

“A special power, the power of evolution, to be specific. With its help, you will be able to absorb special traits of all creatures that you have consumed and adapt them to your own body.”

‘So essentially infinite power-ups, huh? That is suspiciously powerful…’ Alastair contemplated, ‘Sounds like I’m about to get massively played, but… screw it!’ The man sighed in resignation.

“I agree.” No matter the circumstance, he was not in the position to refuse. Had he chosen to go the other way, who knows what would have happened to him, but now he at least had a chance.

“Great, then I hope you don’t disappoint me too quickly!”