The Entertainer's Point of View
Location: Unknown
A false city sprawled below, its skyline a perfect replica of New York. Towers stretched into the sky, their glass shining in flawless symmetry. Streets ran straight and clean, but no cars roared down them. Windows gleamed, but no lights burned behind them. It was a world without life — a hollow imitation waiting for its first breath.
The Entertainer hovered above it all, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Before him floated two orbs of light. One swirled violently, chaos and destruction locked in eternal conflict. The other pulsed with a steady rhythm — slow, deliberate, like the heartbeat of something immense caged within fragile glass.
The Entertainer's grin spread. "So… you're the one making all that noise."
He reached out, brushing his fingers across the second orb. It quivered at the touch, and at once images spilled forth, flickering across the empty city like projections on a stage screen.
A boy, bright-eyed, solving puzzles that left adults stumped. A prodigy whose mind raced ahead of his peers. Teachers whispered the word *genius*.
Another vision — the same boy on a field, his body moving with effortless grace. Fast, strong, fluid — an athlete who seemed destined for greatness. His potential stretched in every direction, limitless.
The Entertainer chuckled. "Sharp mind, gifted body, natural charisma. Too perfect, almost. A strong soul, no doubt."
But the scenes shifted. Tremors. A stumble during a race. Hands that no longer obeyed. His brilliance trapped in a body unraveling, nerves failing one by one. By eighteen, he was wheelchair-bound. By twenty-two, the world had shrunk to a hospital bed, only his eyes left awake to watch his body decay.
The Entertainer's grin softened into something sharper, colder. "Strength that devoured its own vessel… interesting." He leaned closer, voice a murmur. "Almost as if you've been here before. A reincarnated soul, perhaps?"
He prepared to press deeper, to tug at the hidden threads beneath the surface.
And then the void split.
A glowing panel forced itself into being, its letters scrawling across the empty air in precise strokes:
[Sponsor Claim: Kronos]
This one is mine.
The Entertainer froze. "…Kronos?"
Another line appeared, steady and absolute:
Assign him to a world where I can watch personally.
The Entertainer blinked. "…You don't want to watch through my stream?"
The panel responded at once:
I want to watch him.
Silence pressed heavy over the false city. The Entertainer laughed once, the sound brittle, and shut his mouth. Who was he to argue? Who argued with the god of Time?
The panel flickered one final time:
It is necessary.
And then it vanished.
The orb pulsed again, stronger, steadier, as though it knew the eye of Time itself had settled upon it.
The Entertainer lingered, watching it with unease curling beneath his grin. "Orion Marcos," he whispered. "Chosen by Time… Let's see how brightly you burn under its gaze."
With a sweep of his hand, the void shimmered, and countless windows opened before him — each a potential stage, each a different world waiting to be claimed. He skimmed through them, muttering under his breath as the false city around him warped with each choice.
"Martial Cultivation Realm? No, too derivative."
"Demon Siege Apocalypse? Hah, already oversaturated."
"Dungeon Crawler Circuit… tempting, but too messy."
One window froze mid-scroll, catching his attention. Within it, hunters battled through shimmering gates, their weapons flashing against nightmares that spilled into the world. Above them, unseen eyes watched, bestowing power upon chosen champions, shaping their growth like puppeteers pulling strings.
The Entertainer's smile widened. "Ah. Now this—this is suitable. A world where hunters risk their lives against the unknown… and the gods above sponsor the game. A perfect fit."
He tapped the window, and the title burned across the air in sharp letters:
Hunter-Constellation World
The false skyline trembled, as though the empty stage itself recognized the weight of the decision. The Entertainer clasped his hands behind his back, watching Orion's soul pulse brighter than ever.
"Your stage is chosen," he whispered. "Now, let's see if you can endure the gaze of Time."
The lights of the false city flared, and the curtain of the Orion's story began to rise.
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