Prologue:
Somewhere between Earth’s moon and Venus there existed a stretch of empty space that was in no way different than trillions of similar patches of vacuum around the universe. It had remained that way for countless millennia, but that was about to change. Without a sound or warning of any kind, the space was suddenly filled with a massive brown rectangle. At the front of the skyscraper sized structure there was a windshield. Behind the windshield there was a cockpit. And sitting in the cockpit was Piffin Dexadross.
Piffin chewed on a green tuber as he sprawled out lazily on his ergonomic chair. He flipped a few switches. Readings showed he’d crossed the sector bridge successfully into this little backwater.
Good, he thought to himself, just knock out this last delivery and I am done for the weekend!
If a modern Earth human had somehow been in the cockpit just then, they would have described Piffin as a 7 foot tall humanoid panda bear wearing brown khaki shorts and matching shirt. The shorts and shirt weren’t Piffin’s idea. He hated his uniform - much preferring bare fur which was far more insulating anyways - but rules were rules and the organization had ways to find out if he was making deliveries in the nude.
Piffin sighed and tried not to scratch at the flimsy material with his sharp black claws.
Let’s just get this over with.
Just as he had done on a thousand other worlds before, Piffin maneuvered his craft to the dark side of Earth’s moon. He double checked his ship’s cloaking - per regulations. Everything was in the green.
Once he was close enough, he sent out the beacon. Several moments passed, which Piffin spent chomping on his tuber and lounging comfortably.
Then a melodious female voice rang out over his speakers.
“Hello? Look whoever this is, please make it quick. I’m due at the office in thirty minutes and with the commute right now I’ll be lucky to make it.”
Piffin straightened up and grabbed his clipboard.
“Of course, of course,” he said. “I’ve got a delivery here for Ms. Yawh-, Yahw… I’m sorry Ms. I’m not sure how to pronounce your last name.”
The woman on the other side of the line sighed audibly, “nobody can. It’s fine, just call me Gia.”
“Okay, Ms. Gia. Well I’ve got a delivery of one cross-sector Summoning Totem for you. Should I set down and drop it off?”
“Wait what?” Gia’s tone shifted from impatient to annoyed, “I didn’t requisition a summoning totem.”
Piffin cursed his luck. Of course she didn’t. Why did his last deliveries always have to be the worst ones? With an effort, he maintained his polite customer facing voice.
“Well it seems I’ve got a requisition order here for your sector. One cross-sector summoning totem.”
“Well your requisition order is wrong,” said Gia. “It must be some kind of clerical issue. Just return the item. We don’t need it. We don’t even have sentient life here yet.”
With that Piffin heard the line disconnect. His large furry shoulders slumped and he felt the seam of one of his shirt sleeves begin to tear. Returns were the absolute worst. The paperwork, the extra trip to the return facility, all of it would take him forever. Piffin saw his beautiful weekend of relaxation disappear before his beady black eyes.
Wait… maybe there’s a way around this, thought Piffin. Requisitions would know if I didn’t deliver the item, but if it somehow still got to its destination planet nobody would know unless the sector head found out and reported it.
Piffin watched a sleek white craft lift off from the moon’s surface. Once it was far enough away, it disappeared the same way he had appeared a few minutes before.
She did say the commute would take her almost half an hour. Piffin thought, the cogs whirring in his head. That means I’ve got a window of opportunity here…
Double checking his instruments and making sure that his ship’s cloak was running at 100%, Piffin maneuvered around the moon and descended part way into the planet’s stratosphere. Walking to the delivery bay, Piffin found the totem. It was a beachball sized stone statue of a squat figure, which almost any modern human would have mistaken as a Hawaiian Tiki man.
Ugly little thing, thought Piffin as he grabbed it with one burly hand. Hardly any fur at all. Yuck.
He lugged his charge over to the airlock, placed it inside, sealed the hatch, and watched with satisfaction as his delivery disappeared out the door. It hurtled towards the surface of the planet, a trail of flames following it.
Piffin smiled, his vision of a relaxing weekend restored. And the best part is that no-one would ever be the wiser for it.
Somewhere far below on the lush green surface of the planet, an ankylosaurus looked up at the sky for no particular reason. Chewing a cud of one of the giant tropical ferns that populated its home, the dinosaur watched as a strange flaming pillar descended towards the horizon.
If it had been sentient, maybe it would have realized that its world was about to end. It wasn’t though, so it looked back down - took another bite of fern, and returned to chewing its cud.
Chapter 1: The Auction
Felix Chandler licked his lips in anticipation. His eyes darted from the rusted padlock of the storage locker to the assembled crowd around him. Sweat beaded his brow. His heart raced as he thought of the treasure trove that hid behind that flaking corrugated steel door.
“And we’re at two hundred,” said David Eddings, gesturing at the crowd with a pair of bolt cutters. “Can I get two-fifty?”
“Two fifty,” Felix called out, his voice cracking slightly. He felt his heart skip a beat in the ensuing silence. For a moment, he wondered if he’d be able to get such a steal of a price.
“Three hundred,” said someone from the crowd. Felix recognized the nasally, obscene voice instantly. It came from that odious wannabe famous podcasting quasi-influencer collecting tourist - Johanson.
Turning, Felix found himself looking at the smug visage of his ultimate nemesis. Behind the stupidly handsome Australian man, a camera crew was filming. Apparently Johanson had recently gotten a deal with Netflix or something.
“Three-fifty,” Felix squeaked out, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his bidding card in rage. The war had begun.
Several frantic minutes and hundreds of dollars later, David Edding’s voice finally rang out: “sold to Mr. Chandler!”
A triumphant grin threatened to crack Felix’s face in two as he watched the dejected crowd begin to disperse. Johanson lingered for a while, as he always did, wearing a sour expression as his camera crew began to pack up.
“Felix, mate,” said Johanson in his annoyingly charming Australian accent. “Could we just have a look inside? It’s for the documentary.”
One of the camera men looked up, his expression hopeful. Felix was quick to crush that hope.
“This locker’s mine, Johanson,” Felix replied. “No looky-loos. Better luck next time!”
With that Johanson let out an exasperated sigh and finally began to skulk away. The anger that emanated from him was nectar to Felix’s senses.
"You really wanted this one, huh?" David chuckled, positioning his bolt cutters around the lock.
Felix nodded eagerly, practically bouncing on his heels in his excitement. “Look how old the lock is. It’s been out of circulation for thirty years. Just imagine what could be in there! Vintage spoons, maybe even an antique clawfoot tub!"
David paused, his weathered hands resting on the bolt cutters. "You know, Felix," he said, his tone turning paternal, "as great as collecting is for a hobby, genuine relationships with real people are far more important.”
Felix's fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to snap back. Couldn't this old man just let him have his moment, the highlight of his month? What did he care for people. In his experience people were untrustworthy, unreliable cesspits of toxic germs and even more toxic ideas. Just look at Johanson for example.
“Can we get on with this?” Felix asked, his tone acerbic despite his attempt to control his anger.
After giving one last disapproving look, David grunted and pinched closed the bolt cutters, sending the antique lock scattering to the floor. The door lifted and the musty scent of forgotten treasures wafted out. As his earlier excitement returned, Felix knew that this was what truly made him feel alive - the thrill of the hunt.
-
Felix's dinged up Volvo groaned under the weight of his latest acquisitions as he pulled into the driveway of a sprawling country house. The setting sun cast long shadows across his overgrown lawn, highlighting the eerie silhouettes of discarded furniture and knick-knacks strewn about the property.
"Home sweet home," Felix muttered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he hefted a box of newfound treasures from the backseat.
Felix squeezed through the front door and began navigating the labyrinth of his possessions. Towers of collectibles loomed over him, some precariously stacked higher than his head. He lovingly patted a nearby pile of vintage lunchboxes.
"You'll have new friends soon," he cooed, setting down his latest haul.
Felix’s stomach growled. Auction hunting was a hungry business. He made his way to the kitchen, sucking in his sizable gut a couple of times as he squeezed through the narrow gaps in the stacks. He rummaged in a freezer stuffed with frozen meals, extracting a pair of pizza pockets.
As he tossed them into the microwave, his phone buzzed. Felix grimaced, recognizing his sister's number.
"Hello, Maggie," he answered, his voice flat. He wedged the phone to his ear with one shoulder as he typed in a 3 minute timer on the microwave.
"Felix! I was worried. You haven't answered in weeks."
He sighed. "I've been busy."
"With what? Spending your inheritance on junk and sitting alone in that landfill you call a house?"
"It's not junk," Felix snapped, his free hand absently stroking his nearby toaster collection. "They are collectibles. Antiques. An investment! And the house... it's all I have left of mom and dad."
Maggie's voice softened. "I know it's been hard since they passed, but Felix, you can't keep living like this. When was the last time you left the house for something other than for your ‘collecting’ hobby? When’s the last time you’ve had a meal with a friend, or gone out with a girl?"
Felix's mind drifted to the early days of the pandemic, to the terrifying phone calls and the isolation that followed. Then to his parent’s funeral. It had been a closed casket funeral. The car wreck didn’t let them have it any other way.
Felix shook his head, banishing the memories.
"I don’t need to leave the house, Maggie. Why subject myself to the risk?”
Maggie scoffed on the other end of the line. “Are you still talking about the pandemic? That was five years ago Felix. We have vaccines, boosters, all sorts of stuff now.”
It was Felix’s turn to scoff, “what, and subject myself to untested RNA tampering and who knows what else?”
Maggie sighed, “Then wear a mask if you’re so concerned about it.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“You know I have a condition,” Felix exclaimed. “I can’t breathe in those things! No thank you sis! I’ll just stay inside where it’s safe. Good old isolation doesn’t come with side effects.”
“Sure it doesn’t,” said Maggie, oozing sarcasm. “But fine, you do you. Just try and visit your niece and nephew sometime. They miss seeing their Funcle Felix.”
Felix pondered for a moment. It really had been too long, and he liked talking about Pokemon cards with his nephew, John. John’s collection wasn’t bad for his age - in part due to Felix supplementing it with his own contributions each birthday - but Felix’s collection outstripped his by miles. He had mountains of rare cards dating back to the first printings.
“I suppose I could pencil in a visit sometime next week,” he said at last.
They continued on with small talk for a couple minutes, before, at long last, Felix was finally able to politely end the call.
Grabbing one of his steaming hot pockets and putting it into its cardboard eating sleeve, he went back to sorting through his recent acquisitions. He took a large bite into his pizza pocket, which sent a spurt of steaming hot tomato sauce into his mouth.
“Yeaow!” screamed Felix, as he dropped his snack and clutched his face.
He spun around, unwary of his surroundings, his hefty frame bumping an unstable and particularly tall tower next to the kitchen’s door. Time seemed to slow as objects rained down. The last thing he saw was a rather large stone totem resembling a Hawaiian Tiki Man hurtling towards his head.
“So that’s where I put that thing,” he absently thought to himself, before all went dark.
-
When Felix awoke, he felt like there was something wrong with his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to open them, everything stayed pitch black.
Am I blind? He thought, his heartbeat elevating. He waved a hand in front of his face. Nothing, not even the outline of his hand or a suggestion of movement.
Felix tried to call out “hello?” but although his mouth made the shape for the words and air left his lungs, no sound came out.
Am I blind and deaf?!? His heartbeat was now thundering in his ears.
It was at this point that Felix noticed he wasn’t standing, sitting or lying down. He was floating - presumably - in midair. Though he could move his limbs, they touched only the eternal nothingness around him. Felix found this revelation to be quite distressing as well.
Before he could spiral into ever increasing panic attacks at the assault of inexplicable circumstances he found himself in, a giant computer screen appeared before him. Blocky multicolored letters began to type themselves out on the screen. Felix read on in mute shock.
“Anomaly detected - Investigating root source
...
Source found - unregistered soul transference from Sector RR012-5 to Sector FR312-9
...
Attempting re-route
...
Re-route failed
...
Attempting re-route
...
Re-route failed
...
Processing alternatives
...
Archive Search: "system precedents"
...
3,493 precedents found
...
Investigating Standard Operating Procedures on file
...
132 unique Standard Operating Procedures found
...
Calculating Standard Operating Procedure for optimal subject acclimation
...
Optimal Procedure Found - I3.05.21 v6
...
Initiating Procedure I3.05.21 v6"
Felix wanted to shout in frustration, but he could only shake impotently. Soul transference? Precedents? Standard Operating Procedures? What the hell was going on? Just as quickly as it had appeared, the text disappeared, replaced by a sudden explosion of confetti and blaring trumpets. Felix gave a silent shriek in surprise as new text filled his vision.
"Greetings [insert outlier's designation]. Due to unforeseen circumstances related to karmic quantum entanglement, randomizing variables, and/or general cosmic shenanigans, your [insert outlier's afterlife system/realm] has been interrupted. At this time, all connections to your previous reality have been severed. We here at [redacted] sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. Please hold while we connect you to your local system administrator.”
As soon as he finished reading the text, the black expanse popped like a bubble, and a harsh white light filled Felix’s vision.
-
Felix blinked a few times, until the purple spots finally faded enough to show him his surroundings. Somehow, what he found was even more bizarre than the abyss he had come from.
Looking around, he found himself inside an office cubicle. Sitting across from him was a balding man who stared back at Felix like he’d just grown a second head. The man wore a white button down, slacks, and black tie, and looked for all the world like your average accountant, with one noticeable exception. The man’s skin was robin’s egg blue.
“Umm,” said Felix, looking around and experiencing a brief wave of relief after realizing he could both see and hear again. “Where am I?”
The persistent thrum of the halogen lights overhead, keyboard clicks, and lowered voices from neighboring cubicles were the only sounds as the blue man continued to stare. Felix shifted uncomfortably, feeling the cold metal of the collapsible chair on his rump as he sat across the man. After a few more awkward seconds of this, Felix decided he’d have to figure it out for himself. He began to stand, intending to peek over the top of the cubicle’s wall.
In an instant, the man across the desk disappeared. Felix’s eyes went wide as one blue hand clapped over his mouth and another grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down to his seat.
“Shhh,” said the man, his whisper almost a shout in Felix’s ear. “I have no idea who you are or how you got here, but we are going to figure this out quietly and discreetly. Understood?”
With the hand still clamped firmly over his mouth, Felix could only nod.
A ding from a steampunk looking computer on the desk rang out. Both men turned to look at it.
“You’ve received correspondence,” said the machine in a chipper female voice.
The man teleported again, suddenly at his desk. His eyes began to scan the computer screen, his pupils blurring as they rocketed back and forth with impossible speed. After a minute, the man sat back in his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and groaned.
“Celestial damned automated system. This is going to lead to so much overtime,” he said at last.
Arcadeus - or Arry for short - turned out to be the blue man’s name. According to him, Felix was apparently now in heaven… sort of.
“So I’m dead and you’re God?” Felix asked, nonplussed.
“Well no, yes… kinda?” Said Arry. He sipped at his coffee cup, which Felix just noticed had the words “Employee of the Millenia” printed on it.
“To the sector I'm in charge of, I'm pretty much God,” continued Arry. “To the organization I’m more like a local administrator. Just another cog in the machine trying to make ends meet, y’know?”
Felix nodded dumbly. “And that sector is a different universe than the one I came from?”
“Exactly,” said Arry. “You’re processing this better than expected.” He smiled at Felix like he was a toddler who had just proudly taken his first dump on a big boy potty.
Despite Arry’s comment, Felix felt his mind racing at 1000 miles per hour. He had so many questions. Who was the god of his sector? Could he meet him? What was this organization? What is the meaning of life? What actually happened to the dinosaurs? Did Epstein really kill himself?
“Nope,” said Arry, as if reading Felix’s mind. “I’ve already given away too many celestial secrets, and we have to get you out of here before someone sees you. I can't begin to explain how much paperwork is involved if someone realizes you were actually here. The main thing you need to take in right now is that there is absolutely no way for you to return to your old life. That connection is severed.”
“Uh huh,” Felix said. At this point, he was ready to just go with it. His brain was a few revelations shy of shorting out. “So what now?”
“Hmm,” said Arry, turning to his computer and scanning through a file. “Are you familiar with the term “Isekai” from your reality?”
Felix scoffed. “You mean those anime where some random dude ends up in a fantasy world?”
Arry grinned and gently clapped his hands. “Exactly. It’s basically that.” A small stack of papers appeared in Arry’s hand, which he then slid over to Felix. “I get you to sign a few NDAs, a liability waiver or three, and off you pop to a magical world full of adventure.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. Something about Arry’s new grin reminded him of the used car salesman that had sold him his lemon of a Volvo. And those forms seemed… suspicious. Glancing at them, Felix noted the text was so small it would take a microscope to read. Something was going on here. The whole situation was so bizarre, he wanted to bury his head in pillows and go to sleep, but Felix was a seasoned collector. True collectors had to trust their intuitions, and his intuition was screaming that Arry was trying to pull something shady.
“What about my OP magic powers?” Felix asked.
Arry choked on his coffee mid-sip. “I’m sorry… what?”
“Isekai main characters always get some kind of special OP powers that allow them to basically do whatever the hell they want in the fantasy world. What are mine?”
“Oh, I see your point,” Arry said, the crafty smile returning to his face. “Well that’s where the metaphor sort of falls apart. We’ve got rules to follow you know - balances to uphold. I tell you what though, this world allows each person to have up to three skills. So you’ve got that going for you.”
“Ok…” said Felix, leaning forward with hands clasped in his negotiator’s stance. “And what skills do I get?”
Arry’s eyes darted about as he fiddled with his coffee mug. “Yeah… well you’re going to have to kind of figure that one out on your own. Finding good skill shards is sort of half the fun of this world.”
Felix sucked on his teeth, his growing annoyance gradually turning into anger. “So let me get this straight,” he said after a pause. “You’re telling me that your automated system ripped me from my reality, away from my home and all of my priceless collectibles, and your solution is to just abandon me on some random world with no skills, knowledge, items, or compensation? Wouldn’t that put me 30 years behind everyone else my age, and seriously disadvantaged?”
Arry pursed his lips, before issuing a drawn out answer that sounded more like a question. “Yeees?”
Felix could feel his inner-Karen fuming with rage. He decided to unleash his ultimate attack.
“I think I need to speak with your manager,” Felix said, his voice dripping with menace. Arry’s robin’s egg blue face paled into baby blue in an instant.
“Now hold on Mr. Chandler,” he said, hands up in a placating gesture. “I really don’t think that’s necessary. Trust me when I say that wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
Felix opted for no mercy though. He continued, hammering the nail into Arry’s coffin. “Actually, before we go any further, I think I might be entitled to some legal representation. Surely I have some forms of unalienable rights here?”
Arry groaned again. “Oh nine celestial damnations, you come from a reality that has lawyers, don’t you?”
Felix’s only answer was a grim smile and a curt nod. The true negotiations had begun.
-
Felix grinned as he looked over his three skill selections. They were perfect. Absolutely perfect. The negotiations had been tough with Felix initially demanding a minimum of 5 skills and a stupidly high starting stat boost which Arry insisted was absolutely impossible. In the end, they agreed that Felix could have unrestricted access to pick any three skills he wanted.
After Arry handed Felix a steampunk looking tablet, he began sifting through a seemingly endless list of skills ranging from Magical Affinity to Ariel Acrobatics. Using a helpful filter feature, Felix was able to find his desired skills in mere minutes.
Confident in his choices, Felix slid the tablet over to Arry, who took it with the expression of someone preparing to bite into a lemon.
“Ok,” Arry said, “Let’s see the damage.” He read Felix’s choices, stiffened, and looked up. “Uh, Felix? What the hell is this?”
“My choices,” Felix said calmly.
Arry looked back down, as if needing to double check. “But this makes absolutely no sense. This is just three variations of the same skill. You can’t have three variations of the same skill. Complementary skills, sure, but the same? That breaks the rules in so many ways.”
Felix simply folded his arms. “We agreed on an unrestricted selection of skills. Those were your exact words.”
“But…” Arry said, looking down at the tablet a third time. “You could literally get a unique skill that nobody else is likely to find for thousands of years. Skills that could one day call down a meteor or summon a dragon, and you choose these instead?”
“Yes,” said Felix, not a trace of uncertainty in his voice.
“Fine,” said Arry with a sigh and a shake of the head. A beautiful golden fountain pen appeared in his hand, which he then handed over to Felix. “Just sign all the documents and the skills will automatically be added to your skill sheet.”
Felix grinned maniacally. If his lawyer father saw him signing these papers without even being able to read the fine print, he’d be turning in his grave, but Felix didn’t care. It was going to be so worth the risk. It was literally his childhood dream come true.
After the last document was signed, a much more futuristic looking translucent screen popped up in front of Felix. He intrinsically knew it was his user interface.
“Notification: three out of three skill slots filled. Parameters of verbally binding agreement met. Commencing transport to Aelor in 15 seconds.”
Felix felt intuitive knowledge about his new skills flood into him, filling him with ecstasy as he considered all of the possibilities.
Meanwhile, Arry gathered up the papers, which promptly disappeared. He wore a tired, but satisfied smile.
“Well Felix, I can’t say it was a pleasure, but I wish you luck. Aelor is a bit harsher than your world, and I’m not sure how those skills are going to help you survive it. If I could just get my pen back now?” Arry held out a hand.
Felix looked down at the ornately crafted fountain pen, its gorgeous contours accentuated with delicate engravings of fluid interlacing lines and complex patterns. He’d had a pen like this in his collection - not quite as nice, but close. Felix checked the timer. Five seconds remaining. He suddenly had an inspired idea.
In his head, Felix envisioned the magic word that would make all of his wildest dreams come true.
“Inventory.”
The pen disappeared.
“What are you doing?” Arry said, aghast. “That’s my pen!”
“Consider it compensation for emotional distress,” said Felix with a smirk.
“You ungrateful little-” Arry started to say, but before the deity could finish his sentence, Felix popped out of existence without a trace.
Alone again in his cubicle, Arry sat back in his chair in shock.
“My pen,” he said to himself, looking down at his empty hands. He took a moment to process the situation, to calmly consider the proper form of action that befitted his beneficent divine role. Then Arry turned towards his computer.
“Ok Mr. Chandler,” the god muttered to himself as his fingers blurred over the computer’s keyboard. “You want emotional distress? I’ll show you emotional distress. You were going to go to a cosy little town where you could acclimate in peace with a nice little starter kit, but nooooo. You just had to go and steal my pen.”
With a final assertive press of the enter key, Arry executed his celestial vengeance. For a moment, he wondered if he had just accidentally killed the little mortal out of spite. Then Arry shrugged. Like he’d said, Aelor was a harsh world. If Felix couldn’t survive a bit of a challenge, he wasn’t going to last long anyways. Plus, it was already thirty minutes after he was supposed to clock out. Arry absently wondered if Sharon was still around and wanted to get a bite to eat. He decided he’d go check.