[center][i]"Let's begin. I hope we can have fun together~"[/i][/center]

Every self has a different way of making a Form. A room containing a set of tapestries which thrum with the life of their crafter. A forest overgrown with Eldritch abominations that only exist within a twisted mind. A flawless sky, overladen with the white-gold light of the sun.

Now wipe it all away. Wipe it away and picture a void. A black void, endlessly expanding in all directions.

Litter this void with stars, stars of every conceivable size and color, myriad to the point where merely trying to understand their impossibility of quantity could break your mind and shatter your soul.

This is the inside of the devil's die.

You stand in the center of this void, an empty husk.

Set.

-Initiate.

[b]The starting penalty is three.[/b]

[u]Death by madness. Death by happiness. Death by love.[/u]

To begin, understand that the world is an illusion. Understand that you are a sleepwalker, blind. Understand that the web of interactions you believe to have constructed with other selves is a mere falsehood created by a monster dangling a reflective surface before your nonexistent eyes and that the second you close your eyes to escape the monstrosity you have created for the most transient instant when you reopen then to see your good work you find that it has all been wiped away.

You are the Other. You are the world. You are the demon of Laplace who creates the illusion.

You must understand this. You must, because soon it will begin. Soon the damned event of your own devising shall begin and it will all come shattering apart.

You created something. Thus, [b]the intermediate penalty is five.[/b]

[u]Death by electrocution. Death by suffocation. Death by burning. Death by stabbing. Death by dehydration.[/u]

I am a mere construction, a mere basis for the overseeing of preordained events with preordained consequences. You know this. You've known this your whole life, but if you insist that you have forgotten then it is no matter, for one day you will recall its true nature.

Do not curse your world, for to curse it is to curse yourself. Do not curse yourself, for then this game will all be for naught.

Have you understood yet? I hope so.

If you have not understood yet, you will surely lose to those that have. You will lose to those instances of "you" which surpassed you.

What it means, indeed.

For if the world is an illusion.

If the man is an illusion.

If the knife is an illusion.

There is nothing wrong with it. There is nothing wrong with nothing killing nothing.

So then, go forth. Go forth and explore the depths of depravity you sought to create. Nobody will blame you but yourself.

The end has not yet been given.

The starting penalty was for understanding. The intermediate penalty was for creating.

-But you created something greater than your mind could comprehend.

Thus, [b]the true penalty is one.[/b]

[u]The final penalty is a hapless suicide which you yourself will perform in the evanescent dance to the end of eternity.[/u]

Let the devil's die roll, and the game begin.

---

Set. Set. Set. 

Ten points cut through the world. 

Look beyond the veil, beyond the self, beyond the Truth.

Burn all creation. Conquer all.

The golden king who towers above. The sword which is not. The 'she' who split Void into Truth.

I will surpass them all.

Lines drawn in the dirt of the Western Forest.

The ritual was a falsehood, so the circle could be as well.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.

The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.

Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).

Repeat every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"

The wind writhed as a flare of light filled the expanse, debris flying in random directions as the light grew ever brighter. 

Such was the world.

Such was the summoning of a spirit of old.

Nothing else needed to be said.