Near the Dragon Mountains, a land where ancient dragons once became demons rebelled and fought with dragon gods.
At the bottom of the dark, deep sea, certain distortions were contemplative.
Distortion is a massive carcass of dragon tribes and demon kings created by former strife, chaos naturally generated by the magic that was overflowing from it, foreign objects of the world.
However, it was a fragile body of thought that had no flesh when it first sprouted itself, even though it was a foreign object in the world, and had only become conscious at some point.
Just think, that's all there is.
Therefore, keep thinking in eternity.
Who the hell am I?
I am, why was I born?
What should I do?
But for one thing, there was no answer to the reason.
But it was not without fruit.
In the constant thought, the mind body had evolved so intellectually that it could not allow others to follow.
It is a rapid growth speed that can be formed because it is a shackleless mental body called flesh.
Assuming we compared this to modern supercomputers, the computational processing speed of the ideology body would have been more advanced than any other device in the world.
No, it could rather not even be a battle.
It had been so sharpened and evolved in terms of intelligence and thinking.
But it still won't stop.
The growth and evolution of distortion accelerates and is sharpened to further heights.
And when he reached a point where he had intelligence, the body of thought was to gain the power to be one answer.
Its power is' life creation '.
The mind body succeeded in recognizing the slightest miracle that dwelled in it, and obtained the art of misusing the miracle to interfere with other lives.
Nevertheless, we knew that the power of miracles could not be handled by their own intelligence, and that it was probably impossible to fully understand and grasp how much growth and evolution lay ahead.
I therefore think of distortions.
If it is not possible to use it as intended, it was concluded that the number of attempts should be repeated until the desired result is obtained.
What the body of thought wanted was flesh.
It is also a tough body, just like its own intelligence, to the point where it does not allow others to follow.
I don't see why I want such things.
That's because just as I couldn't settle for myself without an answer as to who I am and why I was born, I just vaguely have the instinct to 'I want to be there'.
When we just got to work, the exercise of power, which should still be said or misused, repeatedly failed.
Sometimes an ugly monster was born in which flesh collapsed quickly, and sometimes the exercise of power itself ended in underdevelopment.
But in the course of that trial, which is unlimited and random, we spend an enormous amount of time, which seems like eternity, to achieve a little bit of results.
Store the finished product and thoughtful parts when one is born, and work on another.
We repeated the same thing over and over again, and proceeded with the work with sophistication as if we were going to create each and every cell.
And at the end of a distracting time, hope finally achieves.
The flesh created by the body of thought was complete, and flesh dwelt on itself, which was only consciousness.
It is also not just a flesh, a flesh with infinite power that grows just like its own thoughts and becomes tough everywhere.
It will be fragile in the beginning.
But the best part of this flesh is that it increases dramatically in strength by absorbing and incorporating the flesh of those who eat it.
I can say that it has the potential to be the strongest in the long run.
Exactly what the born distortion was looking for in the world was there.
But... I think of the distortion.
Something still catches on.
I have this flesh in my hand, and wonder what I want to be strongest.
You want to bring an end to the world?
Or something else?
That was all something I didn't know how many times I thought about it.
Therefore, the distortion concludes as the ultimate goal.
I didn't ask for it. Finding the meaning of this flesh, or the very significance of my existence.
Or ask someone and get answers.
It was meant to be a goal ahead of us.
The purpose of those who would already give the answers was to do so.
That miracle power that I couldn't even use myself.
You just have to meet someone who can manipulate it completely.
I'm sure he's at a height beyond my imagination.
But if there are no beings in this world who will answer, they will use their instincts to bring this strongest flesh to an end.
When it does, it's when it does.
There's nothing untrained about this world, and a journey without answers is just a story that can be settled in the form of the end of it all.
When I thought that far, fu, the distortion decided to give itself a name.
Because I realized what I was like when I was supposed to use the power of miracles.
To those who manipulate miracles as they please, what they do, etc. is only the result of trials and errors that are carried out mechanically.
That would be something like this body is a doll formed by chance.
That's why the distortion named it this way.
─ ─ ─ My name is Deus Ex Machina, a mechanical doll.
─ ─ ─ The name of the person who finds the answer to his own beginnings and ends.
This is the story of the end of a doll broken on a world line where there is no god of creation (player).
And it is the story of an end, saved on a world line where there is a God of Creation (player).