The Retired Hero is an Extra

The world was left in a state of shock following the devastating missile strike.

Megrale's national leaders and global authorities scrambled to make sense of the disaster.

The official narrative quickly solidified: the missile attack was attributed to a rogue faction, a last-ditch attempt by Victor Aller to ensure his legacy, even in death.

However, the true story was far more convoluted.

Amid the ruins, the elusive Victor Aller was neither dead nor alive in the conventional sense.

After the missile's impact had created a maelstrom of destruction, his body wasn't left there, yet he hadn't died either.

Unknowingly, the world became vulnerable to the remnants of Victor's shadowy network.

His subordinates were now more determined than ever to see their fallen leader's vision come to fruition.

At the global level, the mystery of Victor Aller remained unresolved yet the official story had already painted him as a terrorist.

Naturally, his still loyal followers fueled whispers of his possible survival, resulting in widespread conspiracy theories.

Unbeknownst to the world, the truth lay buried beneath layers of deception and intrigue, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

The legacy of Victor Aller was far from over—it was about to enter a new chapter.

It was one fraught with danger, hope, and the relentless pursuit of a vision—beyond the reach of conventional understanding.

And so, the shadows of his demise lingered, hinting at the beginning of a new and uncertain saga.

…

"You haven't really left even after your death," a man muttered with a remorseful smile as he stared at the moon.

His eyes darted to the bottle of liquor and pack of cigarettes beside him before he shook his head.

With a smile, he took both the items and kept them in his car as he drove into the distance.

After a few hours of driving, he arrived at a small house.

With great familiarity he entered it and reached for the backyard, finding a tombstone there.

It read [Here lies, the most beloved son, Allen Vox.]

The man's eyes darted to the figure of a woman before a sigh inadvertently escaped his lips.

"What're you doing here?" he asked and then quickly added, "He's already dead."

He didn't know how many times he had to tell her that for her to understand.

"I know, I know that he's... but I just..." she whispered in response, her voice low. "It's just... I can't let it go so easily."

"Haa... Babe, you're pregnant, think of the baby at least?" he said helplessly to his wife, who was sad for another man.

He didn't feel uncomfortable or hatred for the man, but it would be a lie to say he didn't dislike Allen.

"For you, and the whole world, he was Victor Aller, the most wanted criminal, but for me... he was the greatest friend, Allen Vox."

"That's true, but he's dead," he muttered and uncorked the liquor bottle before pouring it next to the tombstone.

Just as he was about to light up a cigarette, a slender hand stopped him. "He quit," she whispered.

"Oh, my bad," he replied and put it away, planning to destroy it since he never even tried cigarettes.

Plus, smoking near a pregnant woman was a terrible idea, especially since he was the father.

As the couple went on about their ritual and sat on the ground, grieving the death of Allen Vox or Victor Aller, a pair of invisible eyes observed them.

***

After his supposed death, Victor, or Allen, hadn't planned any failsafes, he truly wished to end his life after taking care of his enemies.

In essence, he would lose the purpose of his life.

Yet he continued to observe the world and how it shaped after his death before observing his ex-girlfriend and her husband.

Even watching them act mushy with each other wasn't enough to tug at his heart strings, he felt nothing.

His emotions ran dry as he accepted that this was the best outcome for his only surviving loved one to find happiness.

In his life, the only decision he regretted the most is leaving her when he got her pregnant, yet he would do it again even if he could go back into the past.

'Sometimes, regrets are better than living a life without them,' he mused, observing the state of his world from various perspectives.

"Well thought, human."

A sudden voice echoed as the vision around him turned into darkness, where nothing could be seen.

Allen felt he couldn't make sense of anything, but he didn't need to.

"Who are you?" he asked directly, instead of waiting to be told, despite his unknown situation.

Honestly, he had nothing to fear since he had nothing except himself, which he gave up on as well, making him completely fearless.

However, the other entity seemed to have expected such an outcome, responding, "Good! Very good! As expected!"

As the other party was feeling good and gloated at their correct guess, Allen reiterated for clarity, "Reveal your identity."

The other entity stopped their ramblings, saying, "Very well, then."

"I am the God of Darkness, the anti of the Goddess of Light."

"As she takes on a female form, to represent hope, enlightenment, new life, and positivity, I take on a male form to represent despair, failure, death, and negativity."

Allen was stunned speechless at the bold claim of being a god as he truly found the notion absurd, but he wisely chose to not interrupt.

"Before you ask about other Gods, they exist. But they aren't relevant to you as you have a task to achieve."

"Why me?" Allen asked the first chance he got, not caring about speaking to a god or whatnot.

"Because you are the best fit," the God of Darkness replied instantaneously as if he were waiting for this question.

"So, I have no other choice?" Allen asked, wondering if he had any say in the matter.

"You want to deny it?" the God of Darkness asked, slightly surprised.

To say he expected Allen to deny or even have the thought of it would be a blatant lie.

He believed that any human would be eager to accept it—to be reborn in a world with mana, magic, and all kinds of fantasy elements.

Wasn't that a man's dream–

Oh, right! He forgot to mention it.

"Ahem," the God of Darkness quickly began, "You will be reborn into a fantasy-like world where you can use mana to grow stronger."

His thought process was too fast for Allen to comprehend.

In the time one second passed for Allen, a few minutes or even hours had passed for the God of Darkness.

It was like the two were in disjoint dimensions of time, living in different timelines. Though, Allen remained oblivious to it.

"Well, that sounds interesting, but what is mana and fantasy-like world?" he asked curiously.

"What!?" the God of Darkness blurted out, unable to hide his surprise.

Even he, a God, couldn't believe that a human in a world of internet with millions of fantasy novels wouldn't know of them.

"You know magic? The one in movies, novels, animated series, comics and all?" he asked hopefully.

Thankfully, he could sense that Allen seemed to have a slightly better idea now, but that was it.

'This isn't going to be easy,' the God of Darkness thought to himself, and chose to go the extra mile to ensure his goal would be achieved.

He didn't know if choosing Allen would turn out to be the right choice or not, but Allen was the best bet he got.