There was no sky.
No stars.
Only the table—endless, glowing with faint threads of light.
Two figures sat across from one another.
"You could save her," said the first.
His voice was steady.
But the tremble beneath it betrayed more than hope.
The second leaned back, eyes hidden in the dark.
"Only if fate allows."
He wasn't cold. Just bound.
Troubled. As if he wanted to help… but couldn't.
A dice was placed in the center.
One roll.
It spun.
It clattered.
It stopped.
[3]
The light dimmed.
The air thickened.
"…That's a natural result," the second whispered.
"You know what [3] means. No interference. Not good. Not bad. Just… still."
Silence.
"You wield the power of fate. You don't have to obey the rules."
The dice was picked up again.
Cradled.
Regret traced the fingertips that held it.
"We all obey something," said the second, quiet as a confession.
"Even me."
"…Please try again, brother."
A sigh answered him.
Soft. Weighted.
A breath that had once moved worlds.
"…Very well."
Another roll.
The cube danced again—slower this time, almost reluctant.
It landed.
[3]
Silence. Heavier.
The first voice returned. Not pleading. Not angry.
Just… tired.
"Even mercy must obey the rule."
A pause. Then the second voice, barely audible:
"…Then she is doomed to suffer… again."
No answer followed.
Not at first.
Only the faint crackle of the table's threads pulsing in the stillness.
Then—almost lost to time:
"…Brother… I hope you never have to feel this pain."
Years later.
Balloons bobbed lazily in the summer breeze, mocking my eternal suffering. Snacks—questionable at best, outright hazardous at worst—decorated a lopsided wooden table. And then there was the cake. Shaped like a dice, because clearly, subtlety was dead.
Today was Lyra's fifth birthday.
The infamous "Explosion Incident"? Forgotten by everyone but me, swept neatly beneath village rugs and replaced with laughter, overly friendly villagers, and an array of gifts ranging from useless to outright bizarre.
But the greatest travesty had yet to fully arrive.
Then I saw him.
Levin Frei.
The neighborhood darling and fire mage prodigy, entered the yard like a tiny hero from a children's story. His hair alone seemed capable of setting hearts aflame. Smart, charming, annoyingly handsome even at this young age, and radiating a glow that probably made local mothers weep with pride. Nearby mothers paused their chatter, eyes glistening suspiciously, whispering proudly about the "charming little prodigy." I felt imaginary nausea churn at their adoring gazes. Ugh..
I internally cringed.
"Oh, fantastic. Human Torch Jr. himself decided to grace us with his presence. Wrong audition, flamebrain; Marvel's casting is three villages over."
Levin stood near Lyra, shifting his weight from foot to foot as if the ground had turned to lava. His cheeks burned fiercely, easily rivaling the little sparks flickering nervously at his fingertips.With that infuriatingly innocent expression, he extended a single handmade flower toward Lyra, who was too busy gnawing on her party hat to fully appreciate the gesture.
I narrowed my metaphorical eyes—actual eyes tragically absent from my current dice-shaped form—and gave Levin my most venomous internal glare.
"Ah yes, the handmade flower trick. How original. I've seen enough anime to know exactly where this goes, Sen-boy. Turn back now while you still have some dignity left."
But even as I thought that, I felt something. Tight. Right where my chest would be.
It wasn't jealousy. Obviously. Just—annoyance. Deep. Annoyance.. Lyra was a menace, an unstoppable force of mischief, a whirlwind who once spent an entire afternoon gleefully gumming my poor, defenseless dice-body before declaring triumphantly, "Shiny rock tastes good!" I could still mentally feel the phantom drool. No way did I care who gave her flowers.
Yet, Levin's earnest expression gnawed at my pride in ways I refused to acknowledge.
"Oh, spare me the puppy eyes, hotshots. Just spontaneously combust already."
I internally groaned, mentally grimaced, my nonexistent eyes desperately darting around for some form of escape—anything, even Aunt Martha's horrifying gelatin wobbling like an edible nightmare, to save me from this disgusting display of puppy-love unfolding before me. Well, I suppose I could reluctantly support their nauseating romance—at least Levin seems like a decent kid, if overly flashy.
Literally anything to escape this nauseatingly adorable scene, unfolding right before me.
Then I remembered.
Wait, hadn't I gotten some sort of "scan" ability after surviving Lyra's Explosion Incident?
Perfect. Time to flex some divine muscles and dig up dirt on Levin Frei.
Focusing my newfound divine prowess, I activated "Scan Mode."
[Scanning target: Levin Frei]
Element: Fire Mage (Prodigy)
Power Level: Annoyingly impressive
Status: Dangerously flustered
Special Skill: Blushing uncontrollably near Lyra Swift
Weaknesses: Public embarrassment, strong females, windy days (hair weakness)
Threat Level: Absolutely zero (emotional stability questionable)
I mentally smirked. Gold. Pure gold.
Just for good measure—and not because I cared—I scanned Lyra too.
[Scanning target: Lyra Swift]
Element: Chaos Incarnate
Power Level: Alarmingly high
Status: Currently attempting to digest a party hat
Special Skill: Mass confusion, accidental property destruction, dice torture
Weaknesses: Sugar-induced mania, shiny objects (especially dice-shaped), basic logic
Threat Level: Catastrophic
I froze.
Catastrophic?
"Okay, who programmed this stupid thing? I demand a re-scan!"
My divine skill stubbornly ignored me. I'd have sighed dramatically if I had lungs.
Perhaps Aunt Martha's gelatin abomination would yield less unsettling results. After all, nothing could be worse than Lyra.
My internal complaining was suddenly interrupted by nearby chatter. The village elders had gathered, gossiping shamelessly.
"Oh, look at Levin! Such talent! The guild recruiters will drool over him in a few years!"
"Indeed, that boy's fire magic paired with sword skills—he'll bring our village fame one day!"
I internally rolled my nonexistent eyes. Sure, Levin. Sword and fire magic. Could he get any more cliché?
Then the villagers' conversation inevitably shifted towards Lyra, and my nonexistent ears perked up.
"But what about the Swift girl? Lyra caused that explosion, didn't she? She must have some talent too, right?"
"Hmmm, who knows? She seems... unique. Maybe a healer?"
I mentally snorted. A healer? Lyra? Yeah, sure. Definitely a healer—she had plenty of talent, if you counted "mental talent." The girl once earnestly tried to bandage my perfectly unharmed dice-shaped body because I looked "hurt."
"Remember when she turned all the apples blue?" another voice chimed in, slightly worried.
"Or when birds suddenly flew backward around her?" someone else added with nervous laughter. "Does that sound like healing magic to you?"
"Perhaps a mage with powerful wind or lightning abilities?"
Lightning? Wind?
"I suppose we'll see when she grows older."
Ha ha ha ha. Lyra's real element was chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos.
I shuddered at the thought. Giving Lyra magic was like handing a toddler dynamite. And I was speaking from literal experience.
Unable to shake my annoyance, I decided to test the scan skill on something less significant—a nearby potato innocently sitting on the table.
[Scanning target: Potato]
Element: Earth (Legendary-tier tuber)
Power Level: Immeasurable starchiness
Status: Heroically uncooked
Special Skill: Ultimate Mashed Potential
Weaknesses: Frying pans, knives, boiling water
Threat Level: Surprisingly high
Huh? A legendary potato?
My nonexistent brows furrowed. Let's try the tomato next.
[Scanning target: Tomato]
Element: Water (Forbidden Fruit of Destiny)
Power Level: Juiciness Overflowing
Status: Dangerously ripe
Special Skill: Exploding juice bomb
Weaknesses: Gravity, knives, overenthusiastic squeezing
Threat Level: World-ending salad ingredient
Okay, now I was genuinely concerned.
Frantically searching for a rational explanation, my gaze landed on a villager currently vomiting behind a tree after too much questionable punch.
Feeling oddly desperate, I scanned the disgusting pile as a final test.
[Scanning target: Villager's Vomit]
Element: Eldritch Abomination
Power Level: Infinite Corruption
Status: Horrifyingly legendary
Special Skill: Destroying dignity, sense of smell
Weaknesses: Buckets, common decency
Threat Level: Beyond Catastrophic (World-Ending Calamity)
…sen
Realization slowly dawned upon me.
This skill wasn't divine at all.
My scan mode was trash.
Broken. Utter garbage.
Or worse—was this whole thing just my imagination?
Great. First I reincarnate as a dice, and now I have imaginary delusions of grandeur.
Someone roll me into a lake already.
FMDL.
I sighed internally.
The laughter and conversations around me softened, blending into a gentle murmur of village life. For a brief moment, I watched Lyra giggling uncontrollably at something Levin said, her tiny eyes sparkling brightly.
Something about that smile tugged at a distant, faded memory—
A table without stars.
Two quiet voices echoing with pain and regret.
A desperate wish lost to fate's cruel dice rolls.
I shook off the strange melancholy as quickly as it came. No need to get sentimental now. Lyra was trouble incarnate, Levin was annoying, and I was just a little cube trapped in this ridiculous life with an overly opinionated personality, clueless about what my real purpose even was. Couldn't fate at least hint at why I was thrown into this world? Give me a plotline, a purpose—anything?
Still, that brief moment lingered, annoyingly persistent. Maybe, just maybe, fate had finally decided to be kind this time around.
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Author Note:
I know it's a small ask, but if this story made you laugh or smile,please consider leaving a short review.
and thank you for spending your time on this chaotic little story.Zero reviews is a lonely place to be 😅If you've been reading along and feel like dropping one, I'd be deeply grateful.Feedback (even tiny!) helps me grow and keeps me going.
Chapter 6 will be something.
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