The spell was, hypothetically, simple. In an infinitely vast multiverse there are, hypothetically, infinite amounts of everything. The spell had no shortage of potential candidates to choose from.

It was tasked with finding the hero most likely to save its world. It did not stop to consider any other parameter.

The candidate was: Will Terronson, twenty-seven. Will worked at a hobby shop, and he liked it well enough. He had a rent-controlled apartment, and he was taking online biology courses. He was thinking about going back to school and becoming an ecologist. He would not describe himself as particularly in need of change.

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Will found himself awake somewhere other than his familiar pull-out couch. He didn’t immediately jump up, and instead took a moment to assess his surroundings.

From what he could see laying down, the room was one of the fancy, filigree bedrooms old mansions had. There was a circular table off to one side where three men sat bickering. They hadn’t noticed him waking up yet.

“I’m telling you, this is our best bet,” said one, who was wearing a vest that made him look a bit like a waiter. His ears were the wrong shape, pointed like an elf’s. He was also wearing a headband or something which gave him horns, or perhaps short antlers. He was also short, so short that he was standing on his chair instead of sitting on it. Will was willing to consider that he was a human until he saw a snaking tail lash behind him. Maybe he wasn’t wearing a headband.

“Your spell hasn’t worked the past three times,” another said. He was also obviously not human, and larger than whoever the table had been built for, with dark blue skin and what looked like scales instead of body hair. He was wearing an intricate loincloth and nothing else. “The last bozos we tried were tainted within the week.”

“He’s awake,” the third one said. He was… the closest comparison Will could draw was an angel, but with no head. His skin was sky-blue and looked rather like porcelain. What appeared to be a single stylized eye floated above his shoulders, with a floating, spiked halo ringing it. Empty space closed around the single eye like an eyelid, and his wings curled around him like a cloak. “Why don’t we ask him how he feels?”

The other two impossible creatures turned around to face Will.

“Erm, good morning,” the one in the vest said. “I imagine you must be pretty confused. Dio*, do you have the pamphlet?”

“No,” said the big one. “It’s stupid anyways.”

“What’s going on?” Asked Will, crawling out of bed. It was then that he learned two important things; one, he no longer had feet, instead having hooves and furry, oddly tilted legs; and two, he was not wearing any clothes.

Will didn’t say anything as he tried to figure out what he wanted to ask first.

“You are here to save our world,” said the maybe-angel, interrupting Will’s internal monologue. “No pressure.”

The short waiter sighed. “Give the poor man a minute. One step at a time.”

The tall one apparently named Dio barked an ugly laugh. “And I suppose the taint will just take the week off as we give this one a training montage?”

“He is unused to exposure. He finds it indecent and embarrassing. I will provide an outfit.” The angel reached a hand into a slice of empty space and appeared next to Will, now holding a bundle of clothes. Too surprised to complain, Will took them.

The three weirdos stared at Will in anticipation.

“He desires privacy. I will stop voicing his thoughts aloud.” said the angel. He pulled the same wormhole trick again, but with a standing curtain, cutting off Will’s line of sight.

Will quickly put on the outfit the angel had handed (it had something like a kilt instead of pants and underwear, which was probably a good thing when he didn’t know how his legs worked), considered what he should do with his life, and sighed. “Okay, I’m dressed. Explain what’s going on.”

The curtain vanished. The three men at the table said nothing, as if waiting for the others to speak first.

“I am Glorious Purpose, servant of the divine light, though you may call me Glory,” ventured the angel after another moment. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, O savior of our world.”

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“My mortal companion, Virgil, cast an extremely powerful spell to call you here from earth. We are in an alternate… dimension is too limiting. Universe is closer, or maybe ‘genre’. We desperately need your help, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Will wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to disbelieve what was going on, to rationalize this as some kind of hallucination, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming. He focused on the concrete details. “You used some kind of dimension magic to kidnap me?”

Glory forced an apologetic smile, which is difficult without a face. “Not out of malice. We’re desperate. Again, I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Yes,” said Glory, still smiling. “I cannot stress enough that this is a very difficult decision for us. If the circumstances were anything less than apocalyptically dire I would not have approved of this approach.”

“And I’m not the first one you’ve done this to,” Will continued. “The others were killed by something called the ‘taint.’”

“Technically not killed. Permanently, at least.” Glory corrected. “But that’s an unimportant distinction. I will explain why the situation is so dire:

“This world has rules. Laws of physics, reality, and convention. One of the central ones is that death is impermanent. Souls that come here tend to stay unless forced out, and instead of passing on, they reincarnate.“Normally, this form of respawning is a sort of metaphysical reset, returning you to your baseline state. Permanent injuries that persist through this process do exist, but that’s a digression.

“What has changed is that recently, respawning has not been perfect. It’s… subtle but adds up over time. The being returned to life is slightly physically altered, slightly more impulsive, slightly less sociable, and slightly more instinct-driven.

“Eventually, after enough deaths they may be manic and destructive, and then no longer safe to interact with, and they, too, can spread the malaise even faster. We call this the ‘taint’, and if not stopped it will consume everyone.

“Tainted souls are as far as we know anchored here and can’t leave, but we don’t know why or what we could do if one managed to find its way out of the system.”

Having delivered this spiel, Glory leaned back in his chair. “We’ve used powerful magic to bring outsiders here because with no taint and outside context you’re most qualified for the job of hero.”

Will say back down on his bed, processing this information. He spent several minutes in silence.

“Can you send me back?” He asked.

“Of course,” Glory said reassuringly. “We’ve spent a lot getting you here, and I won’t burden you with covering that, but the return spell is equally expensive."

“I offer you this deal: If you help us secure the necessary components for the spell, we will give you a chance to go home, or to stay and save this world.”

“This is coercion,” Will said flatly. “I’m not really getting a choice here.”

Glory was still smiling. “No, not really. I’m sorry.”

“This is insane,” Will sighed, choosing his next words carefully. “You’re really desperate enough to… pull random people here?”

“Not random,” Virgil said. “The spell was very specific in that it would find the candidate most likely to save the world.”

“And that’s me? You guys are fucked.” Will laughed, then abruptly stopped. “I’m really your last shot, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much,” said Dio. “No pressure, though,” he said, mimicking Glory.

Virgil shot him a look. “We’re running out of options, yes. After sending you back we’ll be out of chances to pull someone here. That’s our best shot, but not our only one.”

Will tried to look at the bigger picture. If this place really was in that much danger, there were lots of innocent people involved who didn't kidnap him. “I’ll go with you and acquire whatever the spell needs.”

“So you’ll help?” Glory asked.

“With the return spell," Will repeated tersely. "After that I can’t promise anything.”

Glory was still, in fact, smiling, but now it was genuine. “Okay. We’re going to need to get you ready for the outside world. The blacksmith should be close to ready.”

Virgil and Dio stood up. Glory vanished through a wormhole, and a pin on Virgil’s vest flashed a pearlescent white.

“Follow me,” said Virgil. “Dio has other business to attend to. Right, Dio?”

Dio harrumphed, but didn’t protest further as he left. He had to duck to avoid hitting the doorway.

Will got to his feet—or hooves, now—and tried to step forward. His balance was different, now, too, his legs bending at unfamiliar angles.

Virgil tried to step forward to assist but was brushed off. Will, who was leaning against a bookshelf, made a little annoyed noise.

“I just need a minute,” Will said. “Not used to walking on horse legs.”

“Goat,” said Virgil.

“Pardon?”

“Goat legs. You’re a satyr. Satyrs have goat legs.”

“Right. Okay. Sure. That makes sense.” Will said, pushing away from the wall. He managed to hold himself upright and take a few steps forward. “Let’s get a move on.”

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*Pronounced like in Diorama