The Extra Wants Control

Blood was wiped on a white towel from Jason's hands.

He had returned to the opulent mansion of the Maharaja, the man who'd orchestrated his "brother's" demise. The memory of the promise of power passed in his head. His twisted justification for the betrayal.

"The task is complete," Jason said, throwing the bloodied knife across the Maharaja's office desk.

The Maharaja barely glanced at the blade. "Efficient, I'll give you that," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "But predictable. If not for your… emotional attachment, that brother of yours... you wouldn't have lasted this long. Leading an organization like mine requires more than brute force."

Jason faltered. The "brother" he'd slain had been a rival and thorn in his side as people always told him," you have a smart brothe, you wouldn't have made it far without him" always giving praise to his brothers genius.

He didn't like that he wanted to be his own man, one not tied to his brother. So when Maharaja told him to kill and get rewarded...

He believed the Maharaja's promises of the shared empire, how he would replace his brother and take his stuff also being promoted by tye Maharaja to a bigger platform. But what the Maharaja was saying now was different... He didn't seem like he was giving him what he promised.

"Don't worry, Jason," the Maharaja said with a smile. "I promised you a, though you'll not be receiving that but... a reward is still a reward." Just then, two hulk figures materialized behind Jason, in one of those giants hand were a chain and cuffs.

Jason panicked. "What is this?" he blurted out.

The Maharaja's laughter echoed in the opulent chamber, devoid of warmth. "You, my dear Jason," he said, his voice full with amusement, "are a fool. Easily swayed by promises... You are blind to true power. You'll make a fine foot soldier, but a leader? Never."

The office echoed with a loud laugh. The Maharaja watched his newest pawn being chained as he struggled against the giants but to no avail...an amused smile forming Maharaja's lips.

Jason asked, "What does it mean to be a foot soldier?"

The answer only the Maharaja knew, would be a revelation to Jason. It was a slow descent into a world far grander and more horrifying than the city's petty games.

So the Maharaja spun a tale – this city's game was a mere taste of what is real, a stepping stone to the big leagues.

Assassinations, high profile and ruthless, the kind that would send waves across countries.

The risks were colossal, but so were the rewards. And a foot soldier was the one to do these tasks.

The gullible Jason , had bought it hook, line, and sinker. He made a relieved sigh as they hauled him away in cuffs.

But the Maharaja knew far more than what he said... He just lied to Jason, the training which he would receive was brutal designed to forge a soldier. He didn't want a thug.

Discipline, obedience that's what he wanted and Jason was not that.

So a transformation was needed, from a street rat with a knife to a finely trained assassin... One of many of course.

Jason wouldn't be some elite assassin, waltzing through palaces and collecting ransoms.

He would be a shell, a husk of his former self. The ambition, the cunning, the very spark of defiance that had brought him this far... all will meticulously stripped away they were going to break him. He'd become a ghost, a nameless shadow who existed only to carry out the Maharaja's will and a loyal leashed dog.

The laugh that escaped the Maharaja's lips this time was full of amusement and laced with a touch of pity. Jason thought he was on his way up, but he was wrong and the truth was far more tragic. He was on a one-way trip to oblivion.

*******

A harsh white light assaulted my eyes, forcing them shut again. My head pounded, my body heavy and sluggish.

Dead.

I had to be. The betrayal, the cold blade plunging into my chest,'Jason, that bitch...' I thought angrily.

But I calmed down and looked around.

"Why am I here?"

I was no saint, that was for sure. The climb out of the city's slum was rough one, I threatened, beat up and stoled. I even killed... But I never killed innocents, that was a line I didn't cross.

But even after all those deeds, I wasn't the one who came out on top.

So this… this wasn't what I expected.

There was no fire no brimstone, just an unsettling quiet and space that stretched on and on.

Then, it appeared. An huge lighty figure, its form shimmering radiating a power that sent shivers down my spine. Something deep in me urged me to submit.

Who were they? What did they want? My lips moved and my voice came out rough and rusty, so I had to clear my throat, " wer... Mmmhh... You there... Where am I?"

"Hooh," the figure said"How… amusing. You dare speak informally even in the face of a being greater and unequivocally more powerful than you can imagine."

The space crackled with the figure's pronouncements and a pressure that made me scared shitless erupted from the figure.

It was both terrifying and strangely… comforting? But It felt… right?

"So Gaia wasn't entirely wrong. Humans are indeed… 'unique'."

The figure paused. "You crave certainty, yet fight against any hand that tries to impose it. You yearn for freedom, yet find comfort in order." He sounded fascinated and curious.

Then silence. The figure leaned closer, its form solidifying slightly into something humanoid. "I am a god," it said. "One of many, but for your purposes, simply call me… god."

God? The word hung in the air. A god. Not the vengeful spirit from the scriptures, but a being of immense power. What did a god want with a dead man like me? My voice, a little better now, dared to ask another.

"So what now?" I said.

"Judgment? Punishment for all I've done?"

The god, or whatever it was, chuckled, "No, Rei. Here, there are no such things. But there is… opportunity."