I’m the God and This World Is Doomed

The site visit. That's what they called it.

Students moved in groups, dressed in their uniforms, weapons secured at their sides. Some chatted nervously, while others focused on their preparations. The air was tense—after all, they weren't just visiting some regular location. They were about to step into District 8, the ruins filled with the remnants of humanity's past struggles.

At the front, their instructors were… less than professional.

Evan, the lazy yet undeniably brilliant instructor, was sprawled across a chair, looking like he had no intention of moving anytime soon. Meanwhile, Kael, the strict and sharp-eyed instructor, was childishly arguing with him.

"Stop lying down. You're an instructor, act like one," Kael scolded, arms crossed.

Evan yawned. "I am acting like one. I'm supervising. Just… horizontally."

Kael's eye twitched. "You're a disgrace."

Evan smirked. "A genius disgrace."

Off to the side, Aldric, their battle instructor, sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. He was regretting everything about this.

"Why did I agree to take care of freshmen with these two idiots?" he muttered under his breath.

He should have gone with Fiona instead—she was leading the second-years today. Not only was she competent, but at least she was easy on the eyes. Instead, he was stuck here, babysitting first-years while his colleagues acted like children. Wonderful.

Meanwhile, the students focused on their preparations.

They gathered around the location map, staring at it with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. They had seen the history of District 8 through holograms, but now they were about to experience it firsthand.

Edward sat on a rock, sharpening his sword with slow, deliberate strokes. His face was serious, his eyes focused. Preparation was everything.

Sienna, seated nearby, had her eyes closed, hands glowing faintly as she gathered mana. Calm mind, steady flow.

Then… there was Serian.

Instead of a weapon, instead of preparing magic, he sat quietly, flipping through his familiar, unbreakable, sturdy book. The same one he always carried. The same one that had proven to be a deadly weapon when necessary.

Edward glanced at Sienna, sighing. "He brought a book."

Sienna opened one eye, looked at Serian, and sighed as well. "Of course he did."

Edward shook his head. "It's like bringing a pen to a battlefield."

Sienna chuckled. "No, it's worse. Because we both know that book is deadly in his hands."

Serian, completely unfazed by their conversation, calmly turned a page. "A pen is mightier than the sword."

Edward snorted. "Not when you're getting attacked."

Serian looked up at him, expression as unreadable as ever. "Then the problem is the attacker, not me."

Edward stared. "That... that's not how that works."

Sienna covered her mouth to stop from laughing. "Let him be. It's Serian logic."

Edward groaned. "Serian logic is dangerous."

Sienna grinned. "Exactly."

And with that, the students continued their preparations, while their instructors remained a chaotic mess in the background.

This was going to be a long day.

*****

The ruins stretched endlessly before them, a quiet testament to a civilization that had once thrived, only to collapse into decay. Students walked through the crumbling structures, pointing out different things, laughing, sharing stories, and soaking in the sun. It was like a field trip—fun, lighthearted, and full of energy. They didn't pay much attention to the history; it was just a place, just another stop on the long list of things to do.

But Serian was different.

He walked among them, but he was completely disconnected from the conversation. His focus was on the ruins, on the intricate details of the collapsed walls, the eroded pathways, the faded markings on the ground. His pen never stopped moving in the book, carefully jotting down notes, drawings, and observations. It was as if he was studying the remains of a world long gone.

He was deep in thought, his mind far away from the students laughing and joking nearby.

The others had already scattered. Edward and Sienna, who had no particular interest in the ruins, had wandered off, chatting with other students and taking the opportunity to relax. They left Serian to his own devices, knowing full well that he wasn't one for idle chatter. Besides, no one could really understand the way he thought.

Serian's gaze drifted to a particularly abandoned laboratory that stood half-collapsed, a skeleton of what it once was. He examined it carefully, stepping closer to inspect the broken glass and rusted machinery that once held the secrets of this now-forgotten city. His hand brushed the edge of a metal panel, and he wondered, once again, how a civilization so advanced could have fallen so completely.

"What did you leave behind?" he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the wind.

It was then that memories of Gaia, the primordial mother, surfaced. The goddess, her sorrow-filled eyes, her desperate words, pleading for change. She loved humans—despite everything. Despite their destruction, their greed, their endless cycle of failure.

Serian closed his eyes for a moment, trying to grasp the weight of it. He was a god, after all. He understood human mortality, the fragility of life. But still, he couldn't fathom her affection. Humans, to him, were fleeting. Their deaths weren't something to mourn; they simply disappeared, becoming part of the world again. Why would a goddess of creation, who shaped everything with love, hold on to such a flawed species?

He opened his eyes and looked at the broken laboratory once more. His thoughts swirled with questions, unanswered and unresolved.

"Maybe I'll understand one day," he said quietly, to no one in particular.

From a distance, Edward and Sienna glanced at him, their eyes tracking his movements, but neither of them made any attempt to approach. They knew Serian. He was always like this, lost in his thoughts, exploring things no one else bothered to understand. His silence was his own, and they didn't mind it. They had their own conversations with the other students, but their eyes occasionally flickered to him, just to make sure he wasn't doing something too… out of the ordinary.

"Let him be," Sienna muttered to Edward, as they walked away from the group to talk to some of the others.

Edward simply nodded. "Yeah. He's in his own world."

The ruins echoed with faint memories of the past, but for Serian, they were just another puzzle, a mystery he would never fully solve.

*****

The group had gathered around as the instructors began explaining the history of the area they were standing in. Evan sat lazily on a nearby rock, his feet propped up and a smirk on his face. He seemed more interested in casually chatting than actually teaching, but the students were listening closely. Aldric, on the other hand, stood at the front, looking tired and exasperated, occasionally glancing at his colleagues as if he couldn't believe he was stuck with them.

"So," Aldric began, his voice loud and clear, "this area is the remains of District 8, once part of one of the largest cities before the Judgment Day. It was here that the infection first spread." He paused, glancing around the students who were looking at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "The infection started small—rats, animals, then humans. At first, no one realized what was happening."

Evan chuckled from his spot, not even bothering to sit up. "Yeah, they thought it was just another flu outbreak or something, right? Then it went from that to full-blown chaos. It's what you kids are studying in your history books, but trust me, it's a lot messier when you're standing right here."

He lazily pointed to the ruins around them, where broken buildings and crumbled infrastructure lay scattered like forgotten memories. The students exchanged uncomfortable glances, some nervous, some just trying to make sense of it all.

Aldric continued, trying to steer the class back to the important stuff. "Judgment Day wasn't just a disaster—it was the beginning of the end for most of the old world. That's when the military tried to establish control, and the infected, well, they just kept spreading. It wasn't long before cities were abandoned. This place, District 8, was one of the hardest-hit regions."

Serian, as usual, had his eyes focused elsewhere. He was more interested in the fallen buildings and the remains of the past than in the instructor's words. Sienna stood next to him, her face tight as she listened, occasionally glancing at him with a frown. Edward, meanwhile, stood a few feet away, sharpening his sword, his mind elsewhere, but still processing the information.

Aldric sighed, clearly getting tired of the same lecture. "The military set up bases in the most secure areas, and that's where you're going to be training. The remnants of the old world are what we're here to protect. They can't be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

Evan suddenly stood up and pulled a small gun from his belt. Without warning, he shot it in the air, the loud sound startling everyone. The students jumped, and a few even stumbled back. He looked down at the ground, where a small rat, infected and twitching, lay. He bent down and shot it again.

"Clean and quick," Evan muttered. "That's how we deal with them." He straightened, brushing his hands together. "You kids better get used to this. In the field, it's not about taking prisoners. It's about survival. You'll need to be able to handle things just like that."

The students exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Evan's words settling on them. The infection was real. The world outside wasn't as safe as they'd been taught to believe. They all had a job to do, and whether they liked it or not, they'd have to face it sooner or later.

Sienna, unable to hide her unease, spoke up. "Do we really have to—kill everything on sight?"

Evan looked at her with a shrug. "Infected animals, infected humans, it doesn't matter. If they're a threat, they're a threat. You can hesitate if you want, but that hesitation could cost you your life."

Serian didn't speak. His pen moved slowly in his book, writing down observations. He had no reaction to the conversation, as if he had already known the answers before they were given. He simply looked at the remnants of the city, pondering something beyond the simple reality of the present.

Aldric cleared his throat, signaling to the students that they should start moving. "This is why we're here. To make sure history doesn't repeat itself. To stop the infection from spreading again. The military is focused on containment. We're focused on protection and survival."

The students began moving forward, the instructors guiding them to the next part of the ruins. They could still feel the weight of the past pressing down on them, a reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. Edward glanced at Serian, still writing in his book, his face unreadable as always.

"Don't get too lost in your thoughts," Edward said, walking alongside him. "We're in a dangerous place, Serian."

Serian looked up for a moment, his eyes calm. "I'm not lost."

The class moved forward, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the wind that whispered through the ruins. The city's history, its fall, was written in the cracks in the stone, in the dust of the past that surrounded them.