“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “if I’m the so called Cosmic Creator, let’s try to make this manageable. A simple system, something I can understand.”
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a literal, enormous floating pair of hands materialized in front of him. They were ethereal and transparent, with cosmic dust swirling around them like a galaxy trapped in a snow globe. The pair were holding a giant neon sign that read: “LIKE THIS?” The letters sparkled obnoxiously, and a cheerful ding sounded.
Eryk flailed backward, nearly somersaulting. “Nooooooo!” he yelled, waving his arms in protest.
The universe, apparently a fan of game shows, reacted instantly. The hands clapped and Eryk suddenly found himself standing on a brightly lit stage. A flashing sign overhead declared: “WELCOME TO PICK YOUR FATE!” The audience erupted into wild, pre-recorded applause, even though there was no visible audience. Just a lot of noise, which somehow made it feel more official.
In front of Eryk stood three enormous, garishly decorated doors. They pulsed with colorful lights, and a deep, game show host’s voice boomed from the heavens: “BEHIND EACH DOOR IS A NEW INTERACTION WITH THE SYSTEM. CHOOSE WISELY!”
Eryk wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, muttering, “This is either the worst or the best idea I’ve ever had.” He eyed the doors warily.
The first door had a sign that read: “THE UNORTHODOX SYSTEM” in flashing, rainbow letters. Eryk hesitated, then cautiously pulled the door open. Standing behind it was… himself. Or at least, a version of himself dressed as a very serious, very aristocratic noble. This Eryk was dressed in black and red robes almost in formal attire, complete with a a black sword and red eyes. He looked every inch the high-born lord—except for the demonic face that happened to be implanted into the palm of his hand, which was blowing kisses at Erik and providing provocative gestures at random intervals.
“Ah, greetings,” Noble Eryk said with a deeper tone. “My name is Eryk, half demon, half human eldritch exorcist. And this is my demon guardian. Also, check out Shadows of the Forsaken by Daddy Kazoo on Royal Road. Quite the riveting read.”
The demon hand curled into a fist and wiggled suggestively. “You look like a walrus who got lost in a dress-up closet!” it barked, because of course it did.
Eryk slammed the door shut. “Nope. Absolutely not,” he declared, shuddering. “Next door!”
He turned to Door #2, which had a sign that read: “THE SENSUAL SYSTEM.” The letters were, disturbingly stuffed providing sensual curves and that seemed to create the perfect setting to showcase lingerie. Eryk gagged a little as he opened the door, revealing a truly bizarre scene. The system prompt this time was a sultry, animated cloud of seductive words. It coiled and twisted around him, whispering things like, “Ooh, tell me your desires, darling,” and “Press me, and I’ll make your dreams shimmer.”
Eryk took one look at the overly suggestive letters and felt his face burn with embarrassment. “Um, maybe I could” He paused. “Wait, am I actually considering this?”
The letters winked. Yes, winked.
Eryk slammed the door so hard it nearly shattered. “Nope! Absolutely not. This universe is trying to ruin me.”
Finally, he approached Door #3. It was labeled: “THE CONTROLLED SYSTEM” and had a picture of a game controller. Specifically, it looked like a sleek, upgraded version of the classic Wii controller that everyone had adored. Eryk’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, heck yes!” he said, opening the door. The controller floated into his hand, and a chorus of cheers erupted around him. Confetti cannons exploded, and pickles began raining from the sky. Yes, actual pickles, each one perfectly crunchy and delightfully brined.
Eryk blinked, then laughed. “Pickles? Why pickles?” But the universe was apparently in a celebratory mood, and who was he to question it?
Just as he was admiring the controller, the stage lights dimmed, and an ethereal, holographic image of Sinbad; yes, the Sinbad, the legendary sailor materialized in front of him. Sinbad winked at Eryk, a smirk playing on his lips. “Welcome to the adventure of your life, kid. You better hold on tight.” Then, with a shazam, Sinbad vanished, leaving only the blinking, silent controller in Eryk’s hand.
Eryk looked around, the void now eerily quiet. The controller pulsed gently, waiting. He took a deep breath, feeling the thrill of the unknown.
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Eryk held the sleek, glowing Wii-like controller in his hand. It felt reassuringly familiar, like a relic from a simpler time, yet every time he pressed a button, nothing happened the way he expected. Instead of, say, shooting a blast of magic or summoning a shield, the controller would randomly pick up nearby objects and transform them into the weirdest possible versions of themselves.
He pointed it at a floating rock and clicked the “A” button. The rock promptly transformed into a gigantic cupcake with googly eyes, which wobbled unsteadily before rolling away, giggling. Eryk frowned, then tried the “B” button on a nearby bench. The bench sprouted feathers and flew off, clucking like a chicken.
“Yep,” Eryk muttered, clutching the controller, “I’ve got total control over the situation. Absolutely not frightened, definitely not feeling like I’m on the brink of a total nervous breakdown.”
As he wandered deeper into this absurd realm, he began to realize he was in some sort of labyrinthine, magical prison. The walls were translucent and pulsed with a rainbow of colors, shifting in ways that made him queasy if he stared for too long. The entire place had an unsettling vibe, like a carnival haunted by forgotten dreams.
Eryk approached a creature that defied even his wildest expectations: a floating, jellyfish-like being with a bowler hat perched jauntily on top of its dome. The jellyfish pulsed with an iridescent glow, and its voice sounded like a particularly posh butler with a penchant for riddles.
“Excuse me,” Eryk said, clearing his throat, “do you, um, know where I am?”
The jellyfish swiveled to face him, its hat wobbling. “Ah, greetings, young wanderer,” it intoned. “You have found yourself in the Transitory Jail of Realms, a pocket dimension existing precisely between all other dimensions.” It paused, as though savoring the words. “A place where things that should not be are temporarily housed until the universe figures out what to do with them.”
Eryk’s eyes widened. “So, like… a cosmic holding cell?”
The jellyfish nodded. “Precisely! Marvelously stated, though far less poetic than I would prefer. Here, you will find beings and objects that defy categorization: a waltzing cactus named Sir Prickleton, the sentient puddle of marmalade who dreams of being a philosopher, and—oh yes—the Sea Cucumber Debaters.”
Eryk blinked. “Sea Cucumber… Debaters?”
The jellyfish bobbed solemnly. “Indeed. A long-standing council of experts who debate the true nature of sea cucumbers. Are they vegetables or fruits? Scholars from multiple dimensions have joined the debate.”
Before Eryk could respond, a deafening alarm blared through the prison, echoing like an off-key trumpet played by a panic-stricken elephant. Everyone around him erupted into chaos. Jellyfish and sentient puddles alike screamed in alarm and scrambled to hide behind the translucent, pulsing walls.
“RUN AND HIDE!” someone yelled, their voice muffled by a floating cardboard box they were desperately trying to crawl under.
Eryk clutched the controller, panic coursing through his veins. “What’s happening?” he asked, but no one had time to explain. The lights went out, plunging the entire dimension into darkness. Eryk’s heart hammered in his chest, and his hands shook.
Then, from where the ceiling or dome of whatever area he was in used to be, a single, eerie light appeared, illuminating a giant skeletal hand that reached down into the area. Its bones creaked and groaned like the rusted hinges of a forgotten tomb, and before Eryk could even think to run, the hand neatly plucked him off the ground.
“AHHHHHH!” Eryk’s scream came out as a high-pitched yelp, like a very alarmed bumblebee.
As the skeletal hand lifted him higher, the controller in Eryk’s grip pulsed brightly. Without thinking, he mashed all the buttons at once. The hand shuddered, twisted, and suddenly transformed into a giant Hamburger Helper glove with a goofy, lopsided grin. The glove blinked twice, smiled at Eryk, and then scowled angrily.
“You!” the glove boomed, its cartoonish mouth contorting into a snarl. “Prepare to be seasoned!” It reached for Eryk, but it tripped and one of its new soft squishy appendages got tangled in some invisible dimensional field. The entire glove began to vibrate, then exploded into a cloud of feathers.
Feathers rained down like a bizarre, fluffy snowstorm. Eryk, wide-eyed and disoriented, fell onto the soft pile of feathers that had once been his captor. Slowly, cautiously, the beings of the prison emerged from their hiding places, looking at Eryk with awe and reverence.
The jellyfish with the bowler hat drifted forward, its voice trembling with wonder. “All hail… the Bringer of Pickles and Slayer of the prison Warden!” it declared, as if this were a title worthy of legends
“Hail the Pickle Sovereign!” someone else shouted.
Eryk sat up, feathers clinging to his clothes, utterly dumbfounded. “Wait, the what?”
A sentient, mustachioed cucumber waddled up, holding a golden cucumber scepter. “You are the chosen one,” it declared, its voice booming. “The one who shall end the Great Sea Cucumber Debate! Your arrival has long been foretold!”
Eryk rubbed his forehead. “What..,” he whispered.
But the jellyfish floated closer. “Tell us, O Bringer of Pickles: are sea cucumbers vegetables or fruits?”
Eryk’s mouth opened and closed. “Uh… I’m… not really an expert on sea cucumbers?”
The entire crowd gasped. The sentient marmalade puddle quivered. “An outsider’s perspective!” it murmured reverently. “We must take this into consideration!”
Just then, a spectral being made entirely of sentient question marks drifted over, whispering, “We must prepare for the Great Pickle Council.”
Eryk, still sitting atop a pile of feathers, clutched his Wii controller and tried to process the madness. His life had gone from mundane to insane in record time, and it didn’t seem like things were slowing down.
“Well,” he said to himself, “if nothing else, at least I’m… important?”
And as the debate about sea cucumbers began to rage once more, Eryk knew he’d have to figure out a way to navigate this bizarre prison—and fast. He looked down and saw the iconic button he should have remembered was there.. home…