[center][colour=SlateGray][h1]Matsuta Okada[/h1][/colour][/center] [center]♦ 2 Days before the start ♦ ♦ Saturday, 3:07 PM ♦[/center] Saturday had been, as they always had been, an uneventfully boring day. Despite usually being a day of freedom, Matsuta always managed to waste it away mindlessly searching the net. Watching youtube, scanning through Imgur, looking through various sites selling Otaku goods and the like. It was all he ever did on a day of freedom, and it was decidedly sad. He didn't leave the apartment, didn't call up and talk to friends. Essentially, he did nothing of note. That is, if you don't count speaking with Gospel occasionally. The God of the world, or something, Gospel; his own imaginary friend. His therapist had said it was probably a fictional delusion created by his mind to deal with the depression, but it didn't exactly fit. Now that the depression was more or less gone, shouldn't Gospel have gone with it? Glancing up at the clock, a groan escaped the boys lips. It was already 3pm, and he hadn't eaten yet. Pushing up from the desk, he stood - grabbing his phone - and made his way over to the kitchen. Not that it was actually a kitchen. Just a place with some basic cooking crap and a fridge. It wasn't like he used the oven, anyway, since the microwave was a godsend. Make decent tasting food without actually having to prepare it before hand? What kind of an idiot [i]wouldn't[/i] use such a device over cooking?! Only after he opened the fridge, mind you, was it that he realised his monumental mistake. There was hardly anything there. Matsuta's mind snapped backwards, remember that, indeed, he had forgotten to go shopping. A small chuckle followed by a sigh of desperation emanated from him as he looked backwards towards his desk. Yesterday's clothes were strewn around, so he wouldn't have to dig through the washing to find some clothes. It'd only be a quick pop over to grab some stuff to eat. Except, instead of leaving, he sort of just... Stood there. Like he was waiting for something. A minute passed. Then probably a second. And a thir- [i]Bzzzz bzzzz[/i] The phone idly sat on the counter began to vibrate. Someone had texted him... [hr] [center]♦ The start of the Survival Game ♦ ♦ Monday, ??? AM ♦[/center] He should be at school. Then again, what time even was it? Knowing his luck, school was already over. No point in trying to get there, right? Of course, why the hell would he go? It wasn't like his imaginary friend Gospel had given him the equivalent of the red pill or anything. And so, for the past... What, 2 days, he had been ignoring his phone. It was still sat on the floor where he had left it. He wouldn't call it shock, but whatever it was, Matsuta wasn't sure. For years, he had thought Gospel was a simple mental fuse. Something to stop a depression relapse or something. Never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated Gospel being the God of fucking everything or some shit. Actually, no. He knew that Gospel was the God of the world. The God had told him so. But how could anyone have guessed that he was the GOD for REAL?! Of course, that left him with one question. If Gospel was God, was Matsuta the only one who knew. It'd make sense for others to be aware of his existence. Hell, for them to even be fucking friends. So did that mean others had phones that could tell the fucking future? If so, wasn't that just perfect. How many nutjobs were there running around with the future in their goddy pocket?! For some reason, it seemed like Gospel hadn't exactly thought this through too well. Unless everyone who had one was in the same boat as him... Questioning existence itself and still in education. Maybe this was a good time to start doing Philosophy. Wait, did that mean that religions weren't wrong?! Well... Which one was right? Gospel didn't exactly seem like Allah, nor God. He was too much of a dick to be either of those. So, what, he had his own cult following? Was the guy behind the mask fucking Cthulhu or something?! Mastuta had seen enough hentai to realise where this might go... And that feeling was only strengthened by a tug. Gospel was summoning him. [colour=SlateGray]"Gospel, fuck off a bit... I'm busy contemplating the mind fuckery your already gave me!"[/colour] Matsuta blurted out, completely unaware of what was happening. It was true, though. At this point in time he didn't feel like talking to God. Most likely due to the lack of sleep the last 2 nights, he felt himself slipping. His head went fuzzy, and his eyes began to droop closed. Except, when he opened them, he wasn't asleep. Or, this was a dream. Because as his eyes fell upon the area surrounding him, his vertigo came back. [colour=SlateGray]"FuckfuckfuckFUCK! FUCK YOU, GOSPEL, FUCKING WHAT THE FU-"[/colour] his impromptu burst of anger was cut short by the notice of 11 dark figures, completely indistinguishable, standing around on similar podiums to his own. So he was right, eh? There were more people. [b]"Greetings Players!"[/b] boy, this guy could shout, [b]"As you all know, I am Gospel, the God of this world. You are all here today as you have been enlisted into the Survival Game and your reward shall be my spot. The basic rules are that you must kill off all other players and survive to be the last one standing. In return, you shall become a God. Simple, no? If you have question, you know where you can find me. Now that we have the formalities out of the way, let the games begin! Maybe fortunate be ever in your favor!"[/b] And, without being able to say another word, he was dropped back into reality. Did Gospel actually just say that..? [i]I'm losing my fucking mind...[/i] Matsuta thought, wide eyed at the notion of this Survival Game. Kill off the other players? Become God?! Now he was certain of two things: A) Gospel was a mad man who wanted a psychopath on the throne. B) The God must have been off his rocker on some kind of drug. Why the fuck enlist 12 people to KILL each other, just to decide a God? Why not just... Make a perfect being, and give them your powers? Did Gospel even think this thing through, or did he just pull the idea out of his ass like most things? Without even realising it, though, Matsuta had gotten up. In his hand, a phone; its back covered in a case he had bought, based of one from the anime [i]No Game No Life[/i]. And on it, his texts were open, and he was staring at his own Future Diary...