Rites

What’s Your Next Life

If there is a next life, [xiaochou.name] wishes to know, what kind of person would you choose to be?

ID: 5000341

Type: None

Tips: None

Duration: 1 days

Waits For: 0 days

Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0

Starts Automatically: No

Triggers Result Automatically: No

Tag Tips: None

Tag Tips Up: None

Tag Tips Text: None

Random Text: None

Random Text Up: None

Actions When Wait Expires

This rite has no actions when the wait expires.

Slots

Slot #1
The Mirror

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #2
If there is a next life, what kind of person would you choose to be?

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Activation Conditions

This rite has no activation conditions.

Outcome

Prior

This rite has no prior outcome.

Regular

I Shall be Scorched by Love
You made a wish to the Mirror, and it answered with a mocking laugh—for it longed to know what human love truly was, that it could make cowards brave and the living rush to their deaths without hesitation.

And so, with that laughter, the Mirror shattered like a spider's web. You wandered through the mortal world, seized fleeting joy only to cast it aside, grasped drops of warmth only to let them slip through your fingers. You were both tender and cruel, passing through the garden of the world, plucking and discarding, for none of the flowers pleased you—they were not your flowers.

The Mirror watched it all with cold eyes, until the dawn rose and scattered your restless dream.

You blamed it: "Why not give me a little more time? I was so close to meeting the one I love."

But it merely faded away, bored. "I don’t understand," it said. "To me, you are only courting your own misery."

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall Create!
You made a wish to the Mirror, and it answered with a sigh of surprise. Very well! Then go forth and create! It was curious about the strange new things humans invented.

And so, you were born into chaos, surrounded by the flickering sparks of wisdom, like stars. You were born knowing how to express yourself, and for this, you suffered greatly—some praised you, some cursed you, some defended you, some twisted your words, and there were even those who dragged you to the gallows, interrogating the meaning of every work, condemning every thought.

In some lives, you shone brilliantly; in others, you were deemed a mediocrity. In some, you locked yourself in an attic, nearly driving yourself mad. In others, you swore never to create again. Yet inspiration, wisdom, desire, and rage swelled and roared in your chest like monsters, beyond your control, as if they had a life of their own.

The Mirror reflected it all—the bizarre spectacle, the tears welling in your clenched eyes, where the brightest sparks of humanity flickered. At last, it woke you. "A most fascinating observation," it mused, not without a sigh. "At least now I understand—there is something in the human mind freer than the wind."

Conditions:

Result:

I Only Wish to Live this Life Well
You stood before the Mirror, and naturally, it reflected you—countless versions of you, countless tiny pawns. On the chessboard of day and night, you moved, you captured, you killed, you were killed, you were checkmated, you broke free. The game ended again and again, and you were returned to the box, only to begin anew. You knelt in halls of lapis lazuli, rebuking, advising...

"Why, even under such a fate, do you throw yourself into it again and again?" the Mirror could not help but ask. And without hesitation, you gave it an answer it could not comprehend, yet one that was utterly inevitable: "Because that’s who I am. I only wish to live this life well."

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall Indulge in Pleasure and Recklessness
You made a wish to the Mirror, and it answered with a soft, mocking laugh—Can you not do so now?

And then, suddenly, you realized the card in your hand had become a Carnality Card. You rifled through the deck, and it was filled to the brim with them—endless, infinite! Oh, you were ecstatic. You demanded every one of the Sultan’s concubines, flirted with every woman of merit in the capital, and called every man who caught your eye your brother... None could resist your skill, your overwhelming charisma, or the sheer tyranny of the Sultan Card!

Your "harem" grew vast, teeming, harmonious—though not without the occasional dagger in the dark... In this house, you were the Sultan himself! But... what Sultan has no queen? Ah, where was your queen? Frantically, you began rewinding the days to find her—a privilege granted by the dream, perhaps... Wait. Dream? It was a dream! You jolted awake, finding yourself slumped over your desk in the study. Hastily, you threw off the thin blanket, flung open the door, and drifted like a ghost through the dark to seek your wife. And there, in the black of night, the Mirror cast a dim, cold reflection...

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall be a Cat
You made a wish to the Mirror, and it answered with a soft, mocking laugh.

And so, you saw yourself—abandoned as a kitten, frozen to death in winter. You scrounged for meager prey in the wilds, hunting starving mice and lizards. You wandered the cities of human, fighting your own kind, stealing scraps from wild dogs, tormented by children. When at last you claimed a territory of your own and patrolled it with pride, you suddenly realized: the cats were doing the very things you did now—Conquest, Bloodshed, Carnality, Extravagance... You jolted awake, too late to wipe the cold sweat from your brow. In three strides, you leapt from the bed, seized the Mirror, and raged at it: This is not the cat I meant to be! You wanted to be a pampered, spoiled creature, scratching whomever you pleased, making everyone miserable if you were displeased!

And then—you saw it. The reflection in the Mirror twisted into a smile, dark and knowing. At once, you fell silent. You pressed a hand to your forehead and cast the Mirror aside.

Conditions:

Result:

To be My Wife's Wife
You felt Maggie gave too much, and you owed her too much in return... At your answer, [s1.name] was stunned. It struggled to understand why anyone would wish to bind their fate so utterly to another. "Fine, I see," the Mirror conceded reluctantly, yet it faithfully reflected your lovestruck face—Look at you, so smug! Whether reborn as male or female, human or beast, you always found Maggie, always clung to her. Even as two trees, your branches would entwine; as two mountains, you'd whisper through roots and stone and soil... Ugh, you two! The Mirror couldn't take it anymore! It stormed out of your dream in a huff—only to catch the image of you and your wife curled together at dawn's edge... Honestly! The Mirror just couldn't understand it!

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall to be a Pure Idealist
What enviable traits they possessed! The Mirror nodded and granted your request.

And so, for a long time after, you died—over and over and over and over again. You learned how ideals torment a soul until sleep is impossible, how they burn a spirit to ashes, how they call to you from the cliff’s edge while your finger nails torn away, claw at the rock with scabs layered upon scabs. You trudged forward over the bones of a thousand, ten thousand versions of yourself, toward that faint, starlike flicker in the dark. And at last, you arrived. You took the torch from your own hand, and its light illuminated countless faces—yours, all yours—like stars, like the sun.

The Mirror, refracting that blinding radiance, asked in bewilderment: "But why?"

Why would human willingly sacrifice endless lives for this? Why must they chase a shore they can never reach?

You offered it a weary smile: "Because it must be so."

The vision shattered. You found yourself seated on a red carpet, countless cards spread before you, their voices overlapping in imperfection. "Come, come! Help us..." they rustled and clamored. You closed your eyes and leapt headlong into this unfinished life... And then, you awoke in your own bed.

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall be Fool
"I don’t want to think anymore!" you shouted at the Mirror. "I want to be a mindless fool, to believe in something—anything—and live out my days like that."

The Mirror silently reflected your tormented face. And so, you became the most fervent disciple of the gods, the most ruthless enforcer of kings. You surrendered the reins entirely to a higher power, so that you would never again have to answer for your own deeds! You rejoiced at the slightest reward from your master, and for it, you cast aside your soul, your conscience, your morals, your thoughts, your very self! Many times, you gave your life in blissful devotion. Many more times, you suffered worse than you do now.

Your flesh was a prison for your soul. You were the eternal jailer of your own self, and even the light of the stars at night stung your eyes! Is this right? Your heart whispered back, a feeble echo you could not escape even if you pierced your eardrums to silence it... And always, at this moment, you ended your life. Again and again, until you heard a sigh. "Enough," said the Mirror. "I’ve seen enough."

It ended the dream.

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall be a Nameless Hero
You told the Mirror how often you wished, even for just a moment, to break free from the chains that bound you.

The Mirror didn’t quite understand, but it was willing to indulge you in this experiment. And so, countless reflections showed countless versions of you—dressed in strange garb, mostly masked, wielding all manner of extraordinary powers: flying swords, spider-silk, force fields, magic, a bird-headed staff... and so on. By day, you lived an ordinary life. By night, the city was your stage. You dispensed your own brand of justice, punished the wicked, and championed the helpless. In their darkest hours, people would call your name. Oh, and there was that one persistent foe always trying to arrest you—though they rarely succeeded...

One after another, romantic and thrilling tales began and ended. The Mirror watched, pondered, and finally asked: "This wish isn’t so hard to fulfill, is it? Why not try it—here, now, as [player.name]?"

Your eyes widened. Instinctively, you waved your hands in protest: "No, no, I’m already too busy by day..."

[s1.name] tilted its head, offering no comment on your evasion—nor on the long silence that followed.

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall Taste Suffering
It was an unusual request, but the Mirror reflected the resolve in your eyes: "If I do not experience suffering, I cannot understand it, cannot solve it, cannot stop this world from repeating [s2.name]'s story again and again."

"But you must know, the you of another world is not the you of this one," the Mirror muttered, yet it pulled you into a dream all the same. You were no longer nobility. You had no fine birth, no whole parents. Every day, you fought hunger, battled cold. Many versions of you never grew to adulthood. Many more exhausted themselves and still could not buy tomorrow... You learned to pick edible weeds from the wild, mastered the tricks of swindling and theft, memorized the darkest alleys—the best escape routes and hiding spots when the beatings came. More often than not, you died in brawls or scrambles for scraps. Only rarely did you seize a decent chance: earning the favor of a Dark Alley boss, learning a trade just enough to survive. You partnered with a kind-hearted girl, raised a child or two to share the burden. Your children, like you, amounted to little, spending their whole lives without ever glimpsing the so-called nobility.

The Mirror watched in silence until dawn, until you woke in your own bed. It asked: "Did you find the answers you sought?"

You pondered long, then nodded—and shook your head. But the Mirror was not disheartened. It watched you, reflected you, those eyes of yours, faintly gleaming, fixed on the future.

Conditions:

Result:

I Shall be Ordinary
You grew tired of extraordinary fates, weary of their crushing weight. If there were another life, you wished only to be the most ordinary among the countless masses.

The Mirror laughed. It showed your humble desire—you lived your life as best you could, clinging to small joys, powerless against the sudden, terrible tides of fate. You perished in war, in calamity, in sickness, in senseless accidents—your death as insignificant as an ant’s, as dust’s, shared by countless others.

In the past, every time the Mirror awoke, it saw the same futile scenes, the same dull cycle of life and death... And yet, why did it still watch you? Like someone who meant to discard a plain stone, only to catch a fleeting glimmer when the waves washed over it. For that single spark, how much longer must it wait? How much more must it endure?

It saw and watched, until at last, dawn came. On the edge of waking, you heard it sigh—relieved, yet reluctant. "Good. It’s finally over."

Result:

Extra

Sharper
At supper that evening, a servant fumbled and shattered a great silver platter. He dropped to his knees in haste, gathering the shards—only to slice his finger open.

Yet how could a silver plate break so easily? And how could its edges cut so deep?

You sent the clumsy servant away to tend his wound, then lifted a fragment to study it. There, upon the polished silver, your own face stared back...

You understood then—this was the Mirror’s little gift to you.

Result:

Action: