"Let's roll you up a character."

The voice bubbled with vicious glee, but it sparked a memory in Parry, something far back, to a time when those words meant joy, anticipation, the feeling of starting fresh. It was gone in an instant, but it left a taste of excitement in his mouth.

What mouth? He was part of the swirling black void again. "Overlord Parry" and his enchanted sword, his spells, his armor was gone, along with his mind and body. His world was wiped clean, leaving only memory, just like the life before that. On and on the lifetimes stretched behind, hundreds of them, thousands. They existed now only in his memory, but that was enough. It's all he needed to win.

"Is anything random, or is that another of your tricks?" He wasn't going to believe the answer, but asking was worth a try.

The voice purred in his ear. "It's not a real game without rules and stakes. I enjoy watching you try and nudge things in your favor. You'll fail, like last time and every time before, so I can afford the element of chance."

The first table appeared, numbers and words glowing in nothing.

"Choose a body, any body, don't be shy!" That voice sang with false enthusiasm.

Parry didn't waste a moment: human.

"Aww, it's been forever since you were anything else. I liked your elf lass. And you made for a fun unicorn and a fantastic fungus, big as a mountain by the end! Why not try dragon again? Maybe the sixteenth will be your lucky lizard."

"No."

"You've only been a viper squid once. Viper squid! You'll progress rapidly once you evolve lungs. There are thousands of strange and wonderful creatures, mythical and magical, you should broaden your horizons."

Parry ignored the so-called options and with a thought moved the window away, bringing up the next.

"You're not going to distract me with nonsense." Parry was already reading the next window:

Sex: (m/f)

"I'm not choosing."

The voice held a confused silence. "What?"

"Next window. I'm not choosing. Blank. All. None. Both. Neither."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me. Next."

The window didn't want to move, but so what? Every choice can open or close a door, what about no choice?

The voce came back petulant. "You're being stubborn for no reason."

Parry pushed, which made no sense without body. The text window "felt" ghostly, but still he pushed. There wasn't any other way to describe the effort. Finally it gave way.

Parry felt a surge of triumph. This was new, he hoped it work in his favor.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Fine," the voice was peevish. "You mess with me, I'll mess back."

Age:

There number selector was missing. It was Parry's moment to worry. What did a blank "age" mean? What freedom did that grant his nemesis? Would he be sent into the world moments before perishing from senility?

Social rank:

This was a trap and always has been. The scale (from "1" for peasant to "10" for royalty) made little sense. Who wouldn't want every advantage in any society? But what was the most efficient, what achieved the most strength in the shortest time?

"You can't leave this one blank" The glee had crept back into the voice. "All done messing around? How about another prince? Admit it, you've gone further faster every time you started as a royal."

It was undeniable, but it felt like a trap all the same.

Could I have left myself a clue?

The thought resonated with Parry. There had to be something he learned living all those countless lives. In this hazy nothingness, without body or place, he "closed his eyes" and "took a breath." What possible clue could he have left himself here?

Quick, what's your favorite number?!

Seven.

The "7" lit and the menu shifted.

"Seriously? You're just free-associating? Sure, stake your life on that, keep acting perversely. If you manage to stay alive long enough, I'll mock you harder."

Class:

Parry reached for "mage" but felt a twinge. Was that some reflex he had left himself warning against the obvious? What class could he choose that would eclipse "mage"? He had almost always been some kind of wizard. Magic was knowledge and power, shouldn't he embrace it?

This time the voice sounded eager. "Want to leave this one blank too? Please. I'll fill that in myself."

Parry scrolled: Fighter. Mage. Priest. Scholar. Criminal. Artist. Shaper. Politician. Tamer. Healer. Grower. Builder. Sailor. Mapper. Farmer. Miner...

He had been all of them dozens of times. Was there a clue for him? Yes, but just the one: anything but "mage." Why? Real panic set in, if one could panic without a body. It felt as if he should be breathing but couldn't.

Use what you have. What have you got, here in this dangerous void? Lucky number seven?

Shaper.

The menus shifted and new ones appeared. There was a cluck to the voice. "You've never gotten all that far with "shaper." I suspect you're just being piggish, but that works for me."

Had Parry already wasted this life and stacked the deck against himself? It was true, the shaper class had given him no real success in the past. He stuck with it and moved on:

Blessing:

Parry had no intention of picking a blessing.

"Blank here too?" the voice asked.

Parry wished he could look his enemy in the eye. "I don't want your blessings. You wouldn't give me any real help."

The voice rang with false offense. "I built this whole world for you to play in, I only want what's best for you."

"I stopped believing that a thousand lifetimes ago. Keep your blessings."

Begin? (y/n)

The dark nothingness faded the moment he chose "y," but the voice had the last word.

"Don't think you've caused me any problems. This is my game. I roll your stats. I set your fate. You want to mess with a few pitiful starting fields? I'll show you real suffering. I'll make you regret every step, every life you've had and this one most of all. Welcome to a new hell, Parry. Let's play."