Jax was utterly, completely screwed. The amount of screwed he was in could fill novels. God turned out to be real—and apparently, he was a tree hugger. Why in the hell was this his reality? He tried to focus on the man speaking, but for a few moments, all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. His internal screaming had to quiet down before he could process any of it. Simply put the panic was back, and it was eating him alive. he yearned to scream as the elder man spoke.

"Two hundred and fifty-seven dead in one day—wow, that's quite the record," the man said, nodding as if impressed. "Quite the record indeed. A feat few mortals could manage, I dare say."

Jax coughed and raised his good hand, trying not to look uncomfortable. "Uh… sorry, but could I get your name?"

The old man looked slightly annoyed. "Tyr," he stated flatly.

Jax tried not to groan. Dnd said that was the name of a god. Shit. "Tyr, I’m sorry if I don’t follow. You said I killed some people in a war, but, uh… I wasn’t at war. I was a tree cutter. My job was to clear out brush around houses and dig to prevent forest fires."

Tyr shook his head. "Two hundred fifty thousand civilians, Jax. Unarmed, unthinking dryads whose only crime was being in a place you didn’t want them."

Jax’s mouth fell open as he tried to process but his mind simply couldn't keep up. "What’s… a dryad?" rolled off his tounge like some fifthgrader who had never read a book. Of course he knew what a dryad was. But the god didnt seem to notice.

Tyr gave him a long look. "Nymph."

Jax blinked, still trying to quell the horror of being cripple and dead, but the God simply decided he was still lost.

Tyr sighed. "Spirit? Gods, man, you should know; you are one yourself." With another sigh, he continued, apparently convinced of Jax’s confusion. "Alright. Let’s start at the beginning. What do you think happens when you die, Jax?"

Jax gestured around vaguely. "Uh, I guess you talk to god, who calls you a mass murderer?"

To his surprise, Tyr actually smiled at that. "No, not exactly. In general, once a soul’s form expires, it continues on the plane until it finds a new vessel. When you die, you typically inhabit a tree, a river, or another form of life on your world—if there’s room. You stay there until that vessel expires, and then it happens again. This continues until your soul is too tattered to exist or you can’t find a new vessel, and then…" He flitted his fingers in a gesture of dissolution. "All low-grade souls live as long as they live and then rejoin the universe. The first life is the only true life. After that, you’re a shadow clinging to a candle, avoiding oblivion. That, my boy, is your crime. You destroyed enough lesser life essence to grow a city. Gleefully or not, you willingly ended countless souls and murdered so many Nyad's that I'm astonished your still level 1. Didn't they fight back man?"

Jax sat there, mind reeling from the onslaught of new information. Tyr went on, undeterred.

"But you’re here, which is… surprising."

Jax latched onto this. "About that. If souls stay behind when their bodies die, why am I here? And where is 'here'?"

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"You’re at my well of power because the universe sees you as deserving of judgment—and possibly a second chance. It’s up to me to determine if that chance is worth giving."

Jax’s stomach twisted. For a brief moment, he thought this guy might see he hadn’t meant any harm. But Tyr cut off his train of thought with a frown.

"Too bad. I was hoping you’d be something special, but I honestly can’t find a redeeming quality here."

"Wait," Jax shouted. "I didn’t murder them in cold blood! I didn’t do it on purpose. I was trying to protect people! It’s not my fault I didn’t know innocent spirits lived in the trees!"

Tyr’s voice was cold. "Kid, I don’t care about any of that. The universe is a violent place. Every galaxy is filled with death; every world sees atrocities. I care about potential. I am he who knows warriors, and I see no value in you. I’m honestly surprised you even made it here. Most beings who seek me out are strong enough to resist the will of those they’ve wronged. Yet you? Weak. I don’t know how your soul survived the passage."

With that, Tyr took a deep drag from his cigar and blew a thick cloud of smoke over Jax. It pressed down on him, burning his skin as if it would flake away. But to Jax’s amazement, a green glow shielded him, pushing the smoke back. When the cloud cleared, Tyr had transformed. No longer an old man by the fire, he was a warrior in gleaming golden armor, radiating a silvery glow. It was a vision of power that faded as Jax’s own green light flickered out, leaving the elder once more slumped by the fire.

"Ahhh," Tyr said, nodding. "So that’s how you arrived at my doorstep. I had assumed they were malicious towards you those two, but it appears you have backing. And strong backing at that."

Confused and unsettled, Jax looked down at his left arm, which had regrown, faintly glowing green at the edges. He flexed his hand, feeling the warmth pulse through it. And in the depths of his chest he felt a coldness radiating outward, as if to destroy the god and burrow inside him.

"So… what does that mean?" Jax asked.

Tyr looked him over, a smile hinting at the corner of his mouth. "It means you’re worth my consideration. Now, let’s get to judgment."

Tyr pulled out a book, flipping through it as he muttered Jax’s physical stats, making notes of his "decent form" and age. Finally, he got to a point that Jax didn’t understand.

"What do you mean by 'system aptitude'?"

Tyr raised an eyebrow. "Precisely my point. You don’t have it. Your world isn’t connected to the universal systems that protect spirits during life and death transitions. Most higher beings possess a basic interface with the universe, a tool that grows with their mana." His gaze lingered on Jax’s new arm. "But without this, you’re limited, which complicates my judgment, you come from a backwater my friend, so you never truly got a chance to grow."

"Rate me?" Jax asked, bewildered. "I thought you were judging my sins or something."

Tyr laughed, a deep rumbling that seemed to fill the space. "No, nothing so melodramatic. I’m judging your aptitude for… let's call it a new home."

"A new home?"

"Yes," Tyr said, rising to his feet with some difficulty. "The universe has decided your world wasn’t meant for you. I’ve been asked to judge you. In return, I’ll receive rewards, and you’ll receive a new body on a world more suited to your… peculiarities."

Jax felt his mind reel. "What exactly are you?"

Tyr drew a rune symbol in the air, the faint glow illuminating his face. "You called me a god, but in truth, I’m just a man like you—a man who outgrew his world. I judge others now. So, Jax, a bit of advice for what lies ahead."

Jax nodded, trying to ignore the uneasy pressure on his chest. He watched as Tyr finished inscribing the rune, sliced his finger, and let a few drops of blood fall onto the glowing sigil. Then he remembered and shouted out "Wait I never called you god"

Tyr laughed softly and said "not out loud you didnt, but your soul and mine. They are scraping at each other my friend... and I think you likely scraped off more from me than I did from you."

Suddenly the sigil burst with light, and Jax felt himself being pulled back into the darkness. As his consciousness faded, his mind churned with questions about what lay ahead.

Yet in the void a battle began. Tyr was not one to take a crossing lightly, so he left his well of power, and sought out a void creature that had already fled from his divine presence. After all, if he killed this entity it would live on in another, so he might as well reap the rewards of its power. This was a level up requirement of his after all.