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1 Prologue: Unskippable Cutscene

1 Prologue: Unskippable Cutscene

When a lightning strike finally jolted him awake on his last day on earth, Dan took a long moment to stare at the little girl who had been putting makeup on him while he’d been sleeping on her couch.

Brianna, to her credit, stared calmly, expectantly back, and waited to see what he’d do. She’d met him several times in the weeks he’d been “doing yoga” with her mother, and she didn’t think he’d be mad, since he didn’t seem to care about his appearance and was always happy to play games with her. In fact, she liked how he always seemed to be having more fun than other grown-ups. This, she had decided, was the way that she wanted to be when she grew up, and in preparation for her grand ambition, she was attempting to put make up on him to see how she would look when she was his age…

“The scruff isn’t helping, is it?” he croaked, dry in more than tone.

She shook her head no, scowled, and was about to say something, but stopped short. It wasn’t mind reading, she knew, he was just weird.

“D’ya have a mirror so I can see?”

Another shake.

“Some water then, if you please?”

She scurried off.

Dan reached awkwardly over to the nearby coffee table and unplugged his phone, to find it hadn’t been charging. In its little screen his reflection’s grimace showed that the child had used the wrong foundation and too much blush. The lipstick on the other hand, seemed perfect, though that might only have been in contrast to the rest. He told her as much on her return, while he sat up & stretched.

Brianna beamed at him, and he returned the smile, only to realize from her giggle that the “perfect lipstick” must have accidentally found its way to his teeth. He giggled too, accepting her apology tap water with an exaggerated sitting bow.

“Mommy’s at wowk. I eated yoew waffews”

He finished drinking, and ruffled the six year old’s hair. “My waffles? You fiend! Those waffles were just like waffles to me!”

More giggling.

“Mommy ses yoew a cwown”

His face got serious all of a sudden, and she stopped, worried.

“Oh no, who told her?”

Brianna didn’t understand. He stood up and began pacing dramatically.

“No, she’s smart,” he mumbled to something on his shoulder, “she probably realized on her own… but how? What gave me away?”

He turned sharply back toward her, making Brianna jump.

“The make up!” He gasped, “You sold me out!”

She pouted. “Yoew maken fun of me.”

The man's aggressive posture deflated. “Nono, you’re supposed to say something like ‘if the shoe fits’ or how I was funny looking even before you did anything.”

“I don geddit!”

"Well, it's because clowns have big silly shoes, so the shoe fitting is..." but seeing her pout, he trailed off and sighed.

He crouched down next to her and looked her in the eye, his pine green eyes held a direly meaningful expression that lent a serious gravity to the situation, despite the colorful state of his face. Brianna had no way of knowing that he'd practiced this expression for years. She just knew it made her immediately feel safer, because he always made that face when he was saying something important.

“Words are your super power," he said, as simply as he could. “If someone is beating you with words, it’s only because you’re letting them, and if you feel like-”

He froze, shook his head, then asked, “...You said your mommy went to work already?”

“Yes…?”

---

Ten minutes later, Dan was running through the same storm that woke him, wearing the same pjs he'd slept in. The tall skinny weirdo had his suitcase under one arm, his travel bag under the other, and a desperate urgency in his pace. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper, so this soggy sprint was his only real chance. If he missed this plane back home, he was pretty sure he literally couldn’t afford to try again…

And yet… despite it all, he found himself in an uncharacteristically unshakable good mood.

This two week mental health trip to the Niagara falls had been exactly what he needed, but more pressingly, it had given him the perfect inspiration to crush his most recent bout of writer’s block. Soon he would be home; able to upload the next three chapters of his life’s great work onto his favorite publishing site: ‘Sovereign Street’. After which, of course, he would have another three to five months to wittily respond to the comments from both of his followers and come up with more chapters, as the vicious cycle repeated. His own stories were the only thing he actually trusted, and he hoped this cycle would indeed continue until he dropped dead. It would save him a lot of trouble.

The sign for the upcoming crosswalk turned red and began its countdown, pulling him from his thoughts.

Dan sped up, of course. Unsatisfied by the idea of waiting for the light, and high on exactly the wrong kind of afterglow, the funny man dug deep and ran faster.

He didn’t stop when he missed it, of course. He’d already reached the crosswalk, and for some unknown reason he was convinced that nobody would be going THIRTY km/h over the speed limit in that kind of weather.

He didn’t see the truck coming, of course. His sight was hampered by the same lowered visibility from the dreadful downpour that had the traffic he sprinted alongside nearly deadlocked.

The truck couldn’t stop, of course. The rain-lessened traction, that lent caution to even the most fearless of drivers, meant that the truck didn’t even slow.

In fact, if the truck hadn’t blasted its horn at him, he never would’ve known it existed, because he was busy using the sleeve of his shirt to scrub away the remaining evidence of Brianna’s budding cosmetic talents…

---

Ninety minutes, two more near misses, a new pair of pants, several helpfully understanding airport employees, four towels, a shopping bag, a regrettable quickie in the ‘additional screening’ room with a significantly more understanding (if less compassionate) TSA agent, a small mental breakdown, and a bathroom break later… Dan carefully handed his still damp ticket to the stoner behind the desk at the gate for his flight.

“You’re one lucky SOB, dude. Plane was on the runway, waiting to take off all morning. It’s only back here because they were ‘boutta cancel it.”

“Yep, I’m-” Dan paused to catch his breath. His mind was still spinning back down from his mad dash, and he glanced around. His eye caught on a colorful paperback someone had left in the gate’s waiting area. “-I’m so lucky it decided to rain for exactly as long as I was outside, then stop the second I got in. D’you know who…? Does this…?” He trailed off, gesturing and tottering exhaustedly toward it. His phone was still dead, after all, and plane rides are boring.

“Ha! That’s fair ‘nuff my dude, an’ I dunno what you mean, I en ever seen it before.”

“Cool”

Dan checked the book’s covers as he boarded and made his way down the plane’s aisles. It was some generic looking, long-named, isekai-harem, power fantasy schlock, and he was immediately certain that it had been left behind on purpose.

The cover art was a stock photo some unremarkable buff guy brooding into the camera, badly layered over clipart of the quintessential tropical island with a single palm tree. There was an 18+ sticker and the blurb was some tosh about being pulled into a magical world of lust and adventure, to go on a dangerous quest for true love and family.

It looked hilariously awful. Dan could hardly wait… but looking up from the book, he realized his ticket-assigned seat was already occupied by someone’s grandpa. The young lady next to him explained that there’d been some seat swapping to keep people together, and pointed him back toward the front of the plane.

Dan was tempted, in his exhaustion, to demand the seat he’d paid for… but he quickly shelved the idea, along with his carryon, when he saw the two beautiful asian women he could expect to spend the next five-to-seven hours with.

He mumbled an apology. Not to anyone, or for anything specific; just in general, as he collapsed into his seat, and held his face in his hands. His recent attempts to be less of a man-whore had been met by the universe with many such instances of temptation. Dan resolved that while he probably wouldn’t be able to refuse if either tried to proposition him... If he could avoid starting any conversation at all, then he at least lowered the chances of that happening. That satisfied him somewhat, and he promptly cracked open his new fantasy smut book.

It was pretty generic stuff, all told. A rugged, chosen-one-Main-Character, building a harem and a village on a deserted island. The magic system felt entirely nonsensical, with each different power given a line or two of in-world justification when introduced, and afterward, being treated like the generic super powers they obviously were.

The litRPG stats were pretty obviously shoehorned in at the last minute to pad the word count, given that the MC only actually used each stat once, at the start, and the way that after hitting level ten, the stat system was never mentioned again.

Each flat, one-note Waifu used her singular, tv-trope-ass personality trait, and hair-color-coded elemental power to railroad the MC through her very own pain-by-numbers plot point. These girls seemed to take turns, showing up rather reliably on the supposedly deserted island, each just or soon after the previous girl’s post-quest-intimacy had finished.

The sex scenes were passable, if a little same-y after a while, but Dan’s patience was finally lost when one of the girls' deciding to try anal, was used as the payoff to a big emotional moment.

Anal. On a deserted island.

Dan did the responsible thing and skimmed ahead to see if it ever got less terrible…

Then the plane reached cruising altitude, and a calm quiet hit the cabin. Dan peeked over the edge of his book to consider…well, to ogle his neighbors again.

He was in the aisle seat, and next to him, was the more buxom of the two. She wore what might’ve been a very professional business outfit, if her pencil skirt wasn’t so high over such silky hose, and if her blouse had had at least four more of its buttons done up. She had earbuds in and was humming along to a tune he didn’t recognize.

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Past her, at the window, sat the shorter woman. She was wearing an honest to god japanese schoolgirl outfit with, upon closer inspection, similar levels of immodesty to the businesswoman.

In Dan’s mind this cemented them as fellow perverts, and once that idea hit him, his resolve to avoid conversation vanished like a dream.

The businesswoman only spoke french, unfortunately, but her traveling companion and smaller (younger?) sister Anni was kind enough to introduce her as Natsumi, and translate some pleasantries for a bit. It was pleasant enough, but eventually a little chime had her retreating to her phone.

She said, “Sorry, I’ve gotta deal with that,” and the conversation stalled out…

Aniron, or ‘Anni’ for short, did not, in fact, need to deal with that. It was a scam-text, from someone she’d never heard of, trying to buy some car she didn’t own.

She knew that before checking, since she’d been getting them for weeks now, and also she didn’t actually have any friends. She might have just ignored it, and continued talking with the… rugged stranger… If only her sister weren’t here! Instead of actually trying to follow or respond to the conversation, Natsumi kept trying to talk about perversions and FEET!

Anni loved her sister. Really, she did.

Natsumi’s… personality, had made things between them a bit awkward at first. Then their parent’s death had left Anni unable to cope, and Natsumi had totally stepped up. She'd stepped up in a way she maybe shouldn’t have had to as the younger sister… Natsumi had gotten an office job, paid off both of their student debt, gotten them a nice shared apartment, and was still doing well enough to pay for their current, impromptu con-trip. Long nights of talking, hugging, and a shared penchant for cosplay had long since mended whatever might have come between them. Yes it was quite easy for Anni to feel that she loved her sister… in small doses.

Natsumi’s loud, in-your-face sexuality, was diametrically opposed to Anni’s own anxious introversion. As happy as she was to see her sister happy, Anni had absolutely no desire to find out what made the woman tick, and times like this were why.

The minute the scruffy man had sat down looking freshly showered, Natsumi had elbowed her and whispered something about him being a pervert. Anni had no earthly idea why Natsumi thought this, nor why she had felt it worth telling her. She supposed it might take one to know one? But that felt mean, so she didn’t say it.

Despite Dan’s aforementioned assumptions, Anni did not consider herself to be especially perverted, despite owning more sex toys than clothes. She’d once heard somewhere that girls can be just as libidinous as guys, and it had just never occurred to her that “can” is not the same as “usually are”. This fundamental misunderstanding of the world around her, was compounded by her own introverted tendencies, and cemented by the sheer fetish-forwardness openly demonstrated by her little sister. That, along with her aforementioned introversion, did her no favors in regards to things like making friends, or “touching grass”.

Maybe… Maybe she should do something CRAZY, like in one of the eroge she loved to play. Maybe she should ask her sister to switch spots, then try to talk him into joining the mile high club with her? Could this be why Natti had mentioned his supposed perversion? After all that she did already, supporting them both, being so patient… was she now trying to get her laid as well?? Anni wanted to cry, though she didn’t know if it was gratitude, indecision, or self-recrimination. She knew she wouldn’t dare do something like that. She was just too normal. Her life would only ever be boring and safe, and scared.

While Anni was busy searching her soul (and some chan-board) for answers, the perverts beside her each busied themselves in their own way, though Dan, for his part, was reluctant to return to his horrible paperback.

Skimming through the tripe like he was, it wasn’t long before Dan had practically finished the damn thing. He had been trying to ignore a screaming infant and Natsumi still humming, by immersing himself in the steamy tryst on the page. A blushing heroine was just in the middle of guiding the dragon’s hot fury over the prince’s family jewels, when the surprise of a sudden burst of music right in his ear made Dan jump right out of his seat, landing hard in the aisle.

Natsumi, turning bright red, quickly apologized in french, then a bit slower in badly broken english, but Dan waved her away and brought the dropped bud back to his ear.

“The sounds?” he asked, incredulous.

Her single-word inquisitive response, with a cute little head-tilt, could only possibly mean she didn’t understand. He dug deep for the second time that day, and might’ve even had a flashback to the only french class he’d ever taken, if such things had been possible.

“Ley Sonds! C’est es mon prefer-ee groupey”

She seemed more confused, so he tried again, “C’est es mon prefer-ee group, et mon prefer-ee chansung”

There was another slight pause before Ani burst out laughing, and by the time she had explained his intent to her sister and corrected his grammar all three had had a giggle on it.

When the notification box appeared in front of her sister, Dan noticed it first.

[Aimeriez-vous visiter un monde de magie?]

[Oui] ou [non]

He had no earthly idea what it said, but his mind spun up as he recognized what it was.

Following his gaze, the businesswoman noticed it too.

“Qu'est-ce que c'est?”

She turned from him to her sister. Anni recognized it immediately, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Peut-tu voir ceci?”

“Wait, atten- attendre…”

Dan ignored them both. He reached out and tapped the button that said ‘Oui’.

Then he and the box were gone. Gone as if they had never been there. Even the backpack by his feet had vanished.

“Mierde baisage!” the taller woman pouted. {“He was the type to have a kind tongue and strange toes.”}

No one else seemed to notice the utter impossibility of what had just happened.

Anni wanted to cry. To have this kind of call to adventure appear before her, and it be taken by someone else… it was crushing.

Actually, wait, why had it appeared in front of her trope-illiterate sister, rather than herself?

Then the box flickered back into existence for just a second, before it was gone again… and it was in french! That man couldn’t even speak french! How could he possibly have-?

Her train of thought was again cut short by the box’s stuttering appearance, disappearance, reappearance, and re-disappearance.

Anni tried lunging for it, missing spectacularly.

{“What are you doing, little scribble?”}

{“The box… it is important,”} Anni tried to explain, unsure if any of this was real.

{“Is it? It seemed too much like the computer ads”}

{“This isn’t a computer, Natti!”}

She hadn’t meant to shout that, but Natsumi’s response never came, because at that moment something exploded further back in the plane, and the two sisters’ world was overcome by screams, and wind, and spinning.

Anni almost laughed at the absurdity of what was now obviously a nightmare… It could only be a nightmare, right? She was normal and boring and these things just didn’t happen to people like her… Did they?

Anni screwed up her courage and decided that if this was a dream, then being rash for once wouldn’t have consequences. She followed a voice in her gut that she had seldom listened to before, and unclipped her seatbelt.

She put one arm around Natsumi’s shoulder, and grabbed her sister’s hand in her own. She moved them both so that they jabbed at the empty air together… just as the mysterious textbox reappeared. They had both hit the ‘oui’ box.

----------------------------------------

All was nothing. Then Dan’s familiar dreamless sleep was interrupted by a little square notification box pinging into his awareness. He watched it have a little fight with itself:

[Welcoming New E^$&]

[Assigning System Specs and Definition]

[er.422]

[er.412]

[Rejecting Entry]

[er.204]

[Editing Contract]

[er.404]

[Assigning Temporary Definition]

[Success]

[Re: Editing Contract]

[er.403]

[Fine Print: Contingency 17]

[er.404]

[er.204]

[Assigning Role]

[er.504]

[er.def]

[Assigning System Definition]

[er.305]

[er.418]

[er.412]

[er.403]

[er.504]

[Welcome New Player]

[er.415]

[er.504]

[er.401]

[Resolving Deficiencies]

[Success]

[Assigning System Specs and Definition]

[er.404]

[er.204]

[Assigning System Definition]

[...]

It appeared to be some kind of logical loop, but since he didn’t know what half of it meant, he mostly just tried to swat away the boxes until the pinging eventually petered out. Nothing else really happened, so eventually he just had to wait there in the void. Honestly it made him horny more than anything.

Is this what sensory deprivation play is like? … His thoughts spun slower than normal in this place.

But that’s probably just me being weird. I feel like if that were intended, it’d manifest a bit differently… why am I like this? This spooky void shows up, and all I can think is… wait, did it show up or did I? Now I’m thinking about it, I probably came to the void, rather than the reverse, since I’m mostly certain voids don’t move. Moreover-

Further omphaloskeptic musings and similarly tangential anxiety spirals are best left as unrecorded. It should suffice to say that, while being alone with only his thoughts and urges was not an entirely unenjoyable experience, it definitely left a bad taste in his mouth.

Some unknowable, though less than excruciating amount of time later, Dan was in the middle of considering the notification pings from earlier.

…Light and tinny... Kinda resonant? It’s the sound I’d imagine for a single popcorn kernel popping in a steelpan drum… Though as I’m not musically inclined, I have no Idea what note they were. C perhaps? Or B shark-

The arrival of a purplish demon lady utterly fragorated his train of thought.

“Well it’s about damn time” he said, only then realizing that he had no mouth with which to have said it, or indeed any body at all.

What the fuck? How did I not notice that sooner? This place must be doing something seriously fucky with my head…

Her expression, when she turned to where his body would’ve been if he still had one, was sharp, appraising... Gorgeous. Her darker sclera held a lavender glow, colors matching the gradient of her horns, wings, and tail…

Wait, horns? He blinked, and was immediately re-distracted by his own lack of eyelids, as he tried in vain to blink again.

Her voice as she spoke, however, dragged his attention back, kicking and screaming.

This is probably some kinda magical influence... That's really... hot...

The thoughts flitted through his head, but then he literally couldn’t consider it any further. She had said something that he’d understood completely, though he hadn’t actually heard it.

“Gladly and easily,” was his honest reply. His moral conscience tried to argue, and was snuffed out.

She laughed, and said something else.

It was much longer than the first, with questions and hand gestures, and this time Dan didn’t understand it at all… but by that point he was so far gone that he didn’t really need to. He shrugged his nonexistent shoulders and said, “Dealer’s choice, but buy me dinner first.”

Her single-word, inquisitive response was… contextually familiar for some reason? He waved that away too.

“Either you already know, or I’m not the one you should be asking. I know what I'm worth, lady, and you're not exactly dressed to impress.”

Her laughter made his mind twist and fold, and Dan realized dimly that he might’ve been playing too fast and loose with these things he could barely understand, let alone afford to lose.

When he finally woke up again, he couldn’t even remember his name. Sucks to suck.

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