I’m not in the lobby. The status box lied to me.
I’m… I don’t know where. To be completely honest, I know where I am, but I don’t want to say it. If I admit that I’m in the play area of my old kindergarten, I’ll have to admit that I can even remember what that place looked like. Now I’ve gone and said it though, so, yeah. That’s where I am.
My gaze slowly moves over the place. Soft, rounded plastic furniture. Soft play-mat beneath my feet. Soft toys. Soft everything. Everything is soft and there’s nothing sharp to stab my own throat with. Nothing to bash my head against that might scrub away everything that lingers inside my brain like the stench of rotten meat inside a refrigerator. As soft and padded as a pillow room.
Ah, well, I still have my claws, and most of my bones, so at least there’s that.
Shaping my hand into a straight dagger, I press the needle-sharp tips of my claws against my throat. Bottom’s up, and adios! Here we go—
Please wait.> My hand stalls. Vote? Oh, yeah, now that I think about it, wasn’t there some sort of vote mentioned in the floor clear message? Yeah, I wasn’t too focused on it. I was more so focused on the fact that—that… My jaw clenches. Vote. As if I care about that. You know what you can do about your vote? You can stick it right up your divine— 100 of 100 available Gods have answered.> Hey, not a bad answering rate! You want to know the one itsy bitsy teeny weeny problem? I punt a tiny plush dog across the room. I DON’T CARE! Oh, but I guess since I’m one of your little all-terms-and-conditions-apply box-ticker guinea pig, that means I’m obviously totally cool with anything and everything you do. Of course. I love this system. Hey, quick question, did you deliberately put me in a padded room so I couldn’t go beddy bye-bye on myself? Did you know this was going to happen? Hey, answer me, damn it! Did I do the right thing or not?! A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. <...> <...> <50 to 50 in favor of removing Hell Challenger Lo Fennrick from the Tutorial.> …Hang on just a second. Remove me from the—? A tie-breaker is needed.> is hereby cordially invited to partake in the vote regarding Hell Challenger Lo Fennrick.> The god of love? As in the god of Earth? Why should he have any part in this? This doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes any sense. What is even— accepts the invitation.> contemplates the best course of action.> I’m just… what? No, seriously. If they hadn’t shouted straight to my face that this was about whether or not I should ‘stay in the tutorial’, I would have assumed that this vote was about whether I did the right thing or not. To which the obvious answer is… Is… An image of a determined face and a sword pointed at me flashes through my head. I bury my face in my hands. I don’t know. I wish I knew. I don’t know anything. Did I ever know? …It is clear to me that I was in the wrong. About Simel. About our time together. About what he thought of me, and about what he wanted. I was wrong. It’s that simple. I never acted maliciously, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt him. And I did hurt him. Badly. Ever since the start, that’s all I’ve been doing. I didn’t think I was hurting him, but that doesn’t make it any better. He didn’t want me to kill the emperor. He didn’t want me to kill anyone, as a matter of fact. My only goal was to do what was right for him. In that sense, by doing the exact opposite of what he wanted… I did the wrong thing. has cast His vote.> have been re-tallied.> <50 to 51 in favor of removing Hell Challenger Lo Fennrick from the Tutorial.> Hell Challenger Lo Fennrick will not be removed from the Tutorial.> I stare at the screen. It doesn’t go away, even after I stare at it for what feels like several hours. They’re keeping me in the tutorial. What would have happened if I’d been kicked out? Would I have been sent back home to Earth? Or would I have been stuck in Purgatory? Or, better yet, would I have simply dropped dead on the spot? There’s no answer. I’m a fool to expect one. I can’t even figure out if this was a good thing or not based on which god voted for what. The gods that like me and the gods that hate me all voted separately. Did the god of love vote to keep me in here so that I wouldn’t come back to wreak havoc on Earth and beat every high-score there was using my superior gamer skills? Or was it out of some sickly-sweet bout of genuine compassion? I don’t know. I don’t know anything. How stupid can I be? Can’t I learn a single damn thing? I suck. I wish someone would shrink me and string me to a squirrel feeder so I could get what’s coming to me. I’m sure the god of cruelty would love that. Come on people, let’s make it happen! Ahh, no answer. Of course, of course. Reaching out, I grab a little plastic toddler-stool and prepare to bash it against my skull, only for it to vanish from my hand, alongside the rest of the room. Leaving nothing but an endless WHITE expanse. Ah. Ah. Ah. Bad. Bad. A single splotch of color lights up my vision. You have now been returned to the lobby.> sake of both worlds.>