Most people probably think of infinite lives and retaining memories between them as a blessing, but that is a foolish delusion born from the fear of death and ignorance enough to believe that the next life will be better just because you get it.
As I began to emerge from the nothingness between incarnations for the thousandth time, I joked to myself if I should maybe do something to mark the occasion. Whilst I hadn't particularly concerned myself with the thousands upon thousands of birthdays I had passed over across my plethora of lifetimes, a thousand reincarnations seemed somewhat momentous an occasion.
"Things will be different this time, this is the end."
The disembodied voice of the deranged 'god' made my non-existent body clench, but given we hadn't spoken in lifetimes I had to wonder why he chose to speak up so casually. We certainly weren't on good terms after all, hell, I wouldn't even say we were civil. What left me concerned though, was the urgency in the message, as though not his decision.
I never wanted the position, simply suggested that someone should do it before having it forced on me.
I asked myself "what kind of narcissistic god even cares about the complaints of a single mortal who just got killed in a rather dramatic event?" then chanted mockingly "Sticks and stones may break bones, but words shatter fragile godly egos." The question and words of sarcasm that followed, both left the mouth of my newly acquired body, as I evaluated its weight, balance and flexibility, as part of my borderline ritualistic evaluation of each new body.
I had also considered arriving alone in the wilderness as a constant of each new reincarnation, which was why I was caught so off-guard by someone answering my question.
The voice of a young woman asked if it was a test before saying she wasn't comfortable given our state (or rather lack) of dress.
Turning to look at the stranger I saw only a hand extending to slap me as my ears were pierced by a scream of embarrassment. I ducked away instinctively as I avoided the slap and fell to sit cross legged facing the opposite direction, apologising to the stranger for looking even if it was only a response to finding myself caught unawares.
Though fleeting, I could tell from the glimpse I caught she was naked and her body, I remembered my first time reincarnating as well as how disorientating it was.
"A good thing this world has magic." I mused allowed before I instructed her to sit back to back with me so I could rectify the clothing issue, whilst she illuminated me as to her identity and purpose.
She did as requested without fuss, though only after she rambled about how remarkable the idea of magic was, which I found strange given the distress she had expressed a moment before. Sitting down she began to tell me how she had been chosen by God to act as a judge, then quickly delved into her origins.
From the story she told, I gathered her world was roughly comparable to the middle ages of my original world, which was a thousand years behind the age I was born to.
In spite of the lack of technology however the world was relatively peaceful, and whilst everyone had to put effort into things that we could have used machines for in my world, the people were happy and enjoyed life.
She explained that shortly after her twenty-first birthday she succumbed to a disease, saying that she had been "branded by god." The phrase struck a chord, there were plenty of similarities between worlds with such phrases often amongst them. Yet despite my memory spanning a thousand lifetimes, it was so alien it seemed suspect and I trusted the instincts that had kept me alive through worlds so violent they had no word for peace.
Whilst I tried to decide how much salt I should take with her words, she continued to describe floating in the void, praising God, who apparently offered her the chance to assist them in their divine machinations and learn to judge worlds under the only one qualified to train her, namely me.
"A trainee!?" I raised a hand and apologised for my outburst, but who could blame me? After all that time, that cosmic waste of space had lumped me with a trainee.
I was annoyed in all honesty, I didn't enjoy my work, but I took it seriously. I truly believed that the only reason I was able to go to the lengths I would, to avoid deeming a world guilty, is because I truly had no desire to be in the position. A guilty verdict meant extinction, my arrival was an ultimatum.
The girl wanted to hold power over life and death.
She noticed that and asked why I seemed so dissatisfied.
I explained that we were there to judge the world, or in other words we were there to evaluate the populace and decide if we should leave this world to its own devices or wipe out the populace.
The prospect alone should be enough to cause a mental breakdown for most, but given my old personality I couldn't bring myself to judge her too hastily.
Regardless of what I personally believed, the simple fact is there are as many ideas of right and wrong, as there are people to ponder such things. So I suggested that she work on her own set of standards by which she would judge them, ultimately it would be her decision if the worlds she would one day judge lived or died and she wouldn't understand the gravity until she experienced it.
Still, she sat there listening like the embodiment of stoicism, taking every word to heart. Unable to decide if she was suppressing the breakdown, a bigger psychopath than I once was, or had the most acute case of selective hearing in existence, I grew increasingly annoyed.
I asked if she could fight, which whilst abrupt, it was an important point I would need to cover eventually and an easy way for me to put the unnerving one-sided conversation on hold.
"I don't know, I never had to." I couldn't stop myself commenting on how exhausting I found her over-agreeable behaviour and I waved off her empty apology, then told her to gather wood and start a fire.
She did as I asked immediately, annoying me to the point, a change of conversation wouldn't cut it and I told her to stay put whilst I went to hunt for food. Then I picked a direction at random and started walking, keeping my footsteps soft so I could listen for any movement. It wasn't prey I was listening for, but rather so I could hear if she followed.
I wasn't worried about her either, if she was attacked and defended herself I would have proof she couldn't be trusted. If she somehow managed to die before I arrived, I would have simply given her a failing grade.
Not that I was being harsh since we were practically immortal from what the entity told me upon my own appointment, my body would eventually heal any and all damage, but any instantly fatal wounds or lack of nourishment would kill me.
"Let's call it their chance to appeal your judgement." Those were the mocking words spoken as I began to emerge from the nothingness for the first time. I remember saying something about him being too scared to make me immortal, then found myself in my first reincarnation before I knew it.
Thanks to the state of thought I found myself in, I had forgotten to keep listening, but why? I usually had no problem thinking and acting at the same time.
My absent-minded wandering had left me ignorant and oblivious, in an unknown place, in a spot not too different from where I had arrived.
I gathered some berries into the first clearing and took position in a tree, as I got comfortable I conjured a knife for me to throw, then enjoyed the peace and quiet which was the perfect environment for me to think everything over until some prey came along. Even if I did run the risk of becoming oblivious again, I needed to at least try before deep thought led me to deeper trouble.
Her story of a world enjoying peace after some kind of collapse was very similar to a world I had fond memories of and I found myself lost in nostalgia. In fact the only difference was that the collapse wasn't the result of a power grab, but rather my own doing as a consequence of preventing an even worse fate.
It also inspired less welcome thoughts on the person I was in my first life and the ideologies I held, particularly that morality is a vague concept including things such as guilt or innocence, which was hardly a good perspective for a judge of all people to hold. As true as it was, faith in my sense of morality was mandatory.
That in turn derailed my train of thought and pushed me to thinking about how I found myself in the role to begin with. All because I said that if "god" had the power to judge worlds, they should do so before they reach a point of no return and generations are doomed to needless strife.
In my first life, I was considered to be an evil person by many, and a force of justice by an equal number. I didn't care which group was right, things like morality and justice had become so warped that no one's beliefs on the matter could be trusted. I had completely lost sight of anything that wasn't my objective anyway, so it would have all turned to ash in my wake along with everything else in the desolation.
Despite what many would believe, our world was plentiful, resource abundance meant anyone could have lived comfortably with little effort.
But no matter how easy life could have been, those in power made it their purpose to oppress and plunge their peoples into needless squalor and suffering.
The anger of that lifetime, which I had thought long forgotten, began to seep into my new body.
I had to shake it from my mind.
This entire world's fate was mine to judge, and an emotionally compromised judge cannot do so fairly or justly. Luckily I was saved by the sound of twigs snapping and the unmistakable nasally grunting of a wild boar echoed through an otherwise tranquil evening, shaking me back through time to where I waited.
I threw the knife reflexively, with the full might of my enhanced physique and the accuracy that came with a thousand lifetimes of experience. Strange given how different this body seemed to my last, its mobility seemed lacking but with reflexes so sharp it could afford the hit to its speed.
I collected some materials on my way back. I could've conjured containers and herbs, but I liked doing such things. The normality in such menial tasks were a cure-all for the ailments of mind abnormality induced in me. Particularly good for the ill temperament and chronic fatigue that plagued me at that moment.
Upon my return to the spot where I left my trainee, I decided on having her handle the butchering. It was my responsibility to teach her as much as possible and I couldn't think of a reason to wait.
At first, she seemed to be handling the task remarkably well for her first time, but when she came to remove the innards, her nerves gave out. Which was the first expected reaction I had seen her exhibit, not that it cleared her of suspicion as it made all her other reactions seem shifty-er than they had up to then.
Using magic to soothe her, I returned her to her feet and the knife to her hand. Deciding to reward the relatively earnest display with encouragement. "I won't claim to be a nice person, but I'm not doing this to be cruel. I have been to worlds where I killed everything I ate."
She tried to say she could always be vegetarian for a lifetime, in an attempt to ignore my experience, not that I would allow her to as I shook my head, pointing out the word "everything" and explaining that some worlds simply didn't evolve any edible vegetation which was a concept requiring further explanation.
The realisation that I would have to teach her science and things that were common sense to me was aggravating. For some reason I found the idea of conversing with her the more I spoke to her, the more I disliked her. She was lucky I rarely let personal opinions stop me from interacting.
Taking a deep breath as she steadied her shaking hand, she asked me to distract her from the gore by telling her about my first life.
It was a perfectly normal request given the situation, but something about it made me uneasy.
Her tone wasn't that of a shaken up woman seeking distraction, but more akin to the tone of a teacher trying to prove a student didn't entirely understand what was explained.
Interested to see if she would come to regret that decision, I divulged the details without restraint, exaggeration or omission.
Born in the year 2000, I was orphaned at five after watching a man murder my parents in the street for what little they had.
A seed of twisted conviction was planted and finally bore fruit ten years later, nourished by blood as my only friend died in my arms at their own hand.
I hesitated momentarily as my head twinged with the same pain that once savaged me, then continued as it subsided.
I was done with the world. Mankind was given every freedom, every advantage, but those gifts didn't matter, all anyone could think about was what could be taken.
So, I decided to take everything.
The first step was to prepare myself, and I dedicated every fibre of my being to that end.
Education, combat expertise, observation and charisma. I refined these skills for five long years with prodigious focus and an unrelenting drive.
Then the world became more dangerous.
As governments had attained complete control over all domestic resources, they decided to lay claim to foreign ones, with all able-bodied men made into a unified hand to seize them.
My training had become a double-edged sword, and I was quickly drafted as a conscript thanks to my talents.
Despite my initial antipathy, and the fact I was a nameless conscript, I soon found advantage in the position with the opportunity to evaluate worldwide infrastructure.
The greatest advantage, however, was I found many, many broken individuals, full of rage, and easy to manipulate.
I asked the countless broken left in the wake of war if they wanted me to end their pain, and every time was given the same reply.
They would beg me to do so with solemn words in sombre tones, followed by confusion as they took my outstretched hand.
In the year 2026, the war came to an end, I had more than pulled my weight, but remained a small cog in the machine that conquered the world.
The Irony was marvelous, since my recruitment had gone completely unnoticed because my achievements had, like a monster too large to spot the threat or a man ignorant of contagion.
I had told all those who had chosen to follow that for every year the war dragged on; I would give those in power one to see the error of their ways on their own.
The truth was far more strategic; I wanted to give the powers that be plenty of time to grow complacent, whilst further solidifying my image as a force of change as opposed to the extinction-focused psychopath I truly was.
I turned the old world nations into mass graves; my own reflection disgusted me, regardless of how my methods ensured the process was quick and painless.
In the end though, a man with too much humanity betrayed me, and the powers that remained used him to corner me.
It was bizarre. As I neared the end of my story I began to realise I was in some kind of trance, mostly detached from the words I was speaking, but overtly aware of how much they meant to me.
"As the sun grew dark, and drew my attention skyward, I was almost flattered to see the calibre of weaponry set to rain down on me."
A continent was raised in nuclear fire to stop me, though I only knew the ending because events were relayed to me post-mortem in response to my complaints about taking responsibility.
It was clear she was struck hard by what she learned, and I told her she was a judge and well within her rights to end me if she felt justified.
"You say that, but I get the impression you don't think murder is justifiable. In fact, you don't seem to believe in the concept of justification. you just do what you see as right and push forward in spite of yourself."
Internally I thought something felt off about her, it didn't seem normal for anyone so placid and obedient to randomly speak out so directly. Her expression was also concerning, when the shock passed, it turned to something reminiscent of reverence, for lack of a better word.
Outwardly I narrowed my eyes at her, silently deliberating whether or not that evaluation was her own deduction, or if she perhaps had assistance.