“Oh, thank you thank you thank you.” The hysterical woman said, her accent somewhere halfway between American and British. There were a dozen ways to get that kind of blended accent, so he’ll need to narrow it down.
Still, there were more important matters. “What in the blazes are you wearing?” Were John’s first words to a human being in over twenty years. “This is the jungle, not a ballroom.” He made sure to add a touch of a posh accent, although the tremor from his vocal chords being used in a way he hadn’t used them for in a while was completely genuine.
The carefully calculated aggressive tone killed her gratitude in an instant and focused her mind, as she registered that she was not completely safe yet. “W-what?” She asked, as ‘focused’ did not mean she wasn’t completely out of her depth.
“That dress must be sweltering in this heat.” John observed, his tone shifting to a command. “That skirt cannot survive this terrain either. Take off the outer layer, and we’ll see if that’s enough.”
“I certainly will not!” She retorted, face flushed even more than before.
John rolled his eyes and decided to multitask, leaping onto a tree. He climbed it about twenty feet on mostly momentum, grabbed a pair of vines, and started ascending to a spot that he could use to reach a high point.
Once up there, he turned to the coast, seeing if he could spot a ship. None, unfortunately, which means that the woman was either shipwrecked, or she had some reason to be here specifically. Unfortunately, a woman so ill-prepared was likely more along for the ride rather than part of the actual expedition, so he didn’t have enough information to proceed. He did, however, re-familiarize himself with the coastline so he could maybe get her to point him in the right direction towards their camp.
By the time he went back down, the woman was, naturally, practically sobbing and had already taken off what appeared to be two layers of clothes, wearing a frilled undershirt and bloomers that went down to her knees. “Did you shipwreck?” He asked.
It took a moment for the girl (now that he got a better look at her build, he realized that he had estimated her age wrong: she reminded him of a college freshman, so likely in the 18-20 range) to register the question, and another to process that he didn’t just abandon her. “Ah, no.” She said slowly. “We’re here on an expedition to study the local wildlife.”
Ah, she reminded him of a college student because she was one, that made sense. “Where is your camp?” There was a substantial back-and-forth, but it was quickly resolved by the sound of a gunshot.
“That way!” She said immediately.
“Just need to do one thing.” He said, taking her a bit around as he looked for a good spot.
“What are we looking for?” The girl whispered.
“Acoustics.” John said right before finding a nice gap in the foliage. Perfect. “Okay, plug your ears.” He said after setting her down, literally grabbing her hands and placing them on her ears to emphasize his point.
John was a man that had a lot of time on his hands. More importantly, he was a man who needed to assert dominance over not just literal gorillas, but the jungle as a whole. He was also someone who had extensive knowledge of effective vocal exercises. So when John yelled to the jungle, pounding his chest for emphasis, it was loud enough that it strained belief that such a noise could come from human lungs.
Without even checking to see if the girl was actually about to say something, he held up his hand to forestall any words, listening for any return calls. After ten seconds, John nodded to himself. “It’s safe.” He said confidently. “Let’s go.”
“What was that?” The girl asked, “The entire jungle knows you’re here now!”
“Exactly.” John replied, “No one will bother us. Every animal will run scared now.”
“Scared of what?” She asked, still not seeming to comprehend it.
“Scared of me.” John said patiently. “This is the jungle, Miss…” He trailed off.
Her eyes widened as she realized that she didn’t introduce herself. “Oh! I’m Jane Porter.” She said, nervously laughing.
“John Clayton.” He said, “Now, you appear to have lost your shoes, and I doubt you have the same callouses I have, so I should probably carry you home.” John did own shoes, as he possessed some old clothes from John Clayton Sr., but he didn’t wear them, because they’d get ruined quickly if he tried. They also didn’t fit all that well either, as his feet were bigger than his father’s.
Jane seemed rather surprised at the name, but recovered faster than before, relaxing now that he wasn’t just ‘the wildman’ or whatever she was labeling him in her head. “I actually know a Clayton, funnily enough.” She said casually, “He’s actually one of our financiers, and he came along to help protect his investment.” She moved her hand to mime holding a rifle, explaining exactly how this man intended to do that protecting. “He was the one who fired that rifle.” How much ammunition did he bring? By his count, the man had already fired off twenty shots just today.
Hm. Normally, he’d call it a coincidence, but… He’ll have to question this other Clayton. Maybe it was time for him to rejoin human society, if there’s a connection to smooth things over. Two decades of peace and meditation has done wonders for his temper. It has started to get kind of boring…
Still, he did enjoy swinging from vines.
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The expedition was startlingly small. It was just three people, in fact: Jane, her father Archimedes, who was a lot older than he expected, and William Clayton, the middle-aged big game hunter. 577 was not a caliber used for the prey you typically see in Europe. “He saved me!” Jane gushed, clearly infatuated by her savior. That could be a problem down the line, but hopefully he could dissuade her without anything more than some hurt feelings. “There was this monkey, and the monkey started crying, and then- LOTS of monkeys!” She continued to frantically explain the ordeal she went through, and eventually she was calmed down enough for actual conversation.
“So,” John began, “-what brings you to my jungle? Jane said you were studying the wildlife, but I’m going to need more information before I make a decision.”
William seemed to immediately understand what John meant, but Archimedes, as a sheltered academic, seemed confused. “Make a decision about what?” He asked.
“Whether or not I’ll help you.” John said calmly, giving them a wide gorilla smile. It was not friendly.
That only seemed to confuse Dr. Porter more, but Jane seemed a bit wiser, picking up on the subtle menace John was portraying with his body language. “We’re here to find the gorillas.” She explained, speaking slowly and clearly. “My father has theories about their social structure and we’re here to find evidence of those theories.”
John hummed. She seemed honest. Archimedes too. “Alright, that’s two.” John said neutrally. “What about you, Bill?” It was a bit of a power move to address the man by his first name, when Jane and Archimedes referred to him as Clayton, and even more so to shorten it. “You don’t seem like much of a man of science.”
William scowled at the familiar address. Before he could say anything, Archimedes volunteered instead: “Oh, he hired me to find him gorilla nesting grounds.” He said proudly, “I wanted to verify my theories, so it was quite serendipitous.”
“Is that so?” John asked.
The hunter regarded him, assessing whether or not he should lie. “Yes, that’s true.” He said carefully. “I’ve heard a lot about gorillas, but I’ve never seen one.”
John hummed. “Well, I’m a bit of an expert on gorillas, seeing as how I live here too, so ask away.”
The short doctor jumped on the chance, outlining his startlingly accurate theories, although John had to give them a lecture on social structure, and how that Clayton’s reckless gunfire had likely intimidated the staunchly protective local silverback into going much deeper into the jungle. “Maybe even enough to start pushing into the range of a different group.”
“But how are we going to meet gorillas?” Jane asked, distressed.
“Oh, just come over to my place and I’ll ask a few to come visit. Show you a nesting site that’s only a day or two old.” John said easily. “Bill stays, though. If you leave this stuff unattended you’ll get monkeys going through it within the hour.” He glanced upward at a small cluster of monkeys who were watching the camp. “They won’t be gentle.”
“I’m not going to leave a young lady and old man to traverse the jungle without me.” William said, trying to be reasonable but his demeanor didn’t have the right flavor of angry for his words.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect them.” John assured him, “Nothing in this jungle is stupid enough to try and fight me.”
William growled. Well, he could be wrong.
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They were, as expected, extremely impressed with his setup. John even took off the jaguar-skin toga he was wearing in favor of some of the precious cloth clothing, brewed some tea from a local leaf he discovered tasted an awful lot like Oolong, and brought out some of the preserved foods he thought they’d like.
“I must say, I never expected such a civilized place to exist here.” Dr. Porter said, sipping at the tea. “It’s quite a different flavor, but I like it.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“It shouldn’t.” John acknowledged, “But I’m here, and despite appearances, I am a man of civilization at heart.”
“...How long have you been here?” Jane asked.
“Me? Pretty much all my life.” John said, taking a deep whiff of his tea. It’s no coffee, but… “What year is it, by the way?”
“1902.” Dr. Porter replied.
“So I’m twenty-one this year.” John said, nodding to himself. “Anyway, my parents shipwrecked here in ‘82, and I ended up adopted by a local gorilla after their unfortunate run-in with a predator. Tragic story.”
“...How old were you when they died?” Jane asked, suspicious.
“I don’t know.” John said honestly. Evidence suggested twenty months, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. Better to imply he was eight or something, already knowing how to read and write. That way, they wouldn’t question why he wasn’t walking around on his knuckles or something similarly absurd.
As expected, they thoroughly enjoyed their curated African safari, with many detailed drawings to bring back, and they invited him to go back to America with them. As it turned out, Jane went to a British university, but she was very much American.
Seeing as how the incoming World Wars were the big things holding John back from wanting to join society again, he accepted.
Parting with his animal friends was a sad occasion, but he couldn’t just… become some kind of hermit. It was one thing when he would have had to go through substantial effort to find other humans, but when the opportunity just falls into his lap? A step too far.
His break from human contact was nice, but he wasn’t quite old enough for twenty years to pass in an eyeblink. He’s ready for something different.
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As he had suspected, this world was a bit more magical than normal, a mundane existence it was not. Being known as the ‘Gorilla Expert’ was a little strange, but soon enough he was being invited to everywhere for various academic things.
His life was actually rather eventful. Only a year after he rejoined society, he just happened to be in town enjoying a local lantern festival (quite an odd thing to see in Europe, but nevertheless interesting) when the kidnapped Princess, who was the one the festival was honoring, just so happened to turn up.
That was nothing compared to getting caught in a blizzard in the middle of summer, though. Apparently the newly coronated Queen had magic powers that she absolutely could not control well. He may have anonymously ensured that a sheaf of papers outlining some cryokinesis training exercises had been brought to the Queen’s attention via a particularly intelligent reindeer. It never happened again, so he figured it helped.
Later on, when he was also celebrating a local festival in New Orleans, there were some shadow creatures going around anywhere that he needed to use his limited command of magic to combat, but that didn’t do anything but turn him off of festivals. They were cursed in this world, he swears.
John spent most of his years advocating for animal rights, but knew that it wouldn’t really amount to much in the long run. It was a peaceful enough existence, he guessed. Not once, not even with those poachers that Clayton employed to attempt to recoup his investment with live gorilla captures to sell to the London Zoo, did he ever resort to violence against another human being. It wasn’t perfect, of course, he did still kill quite a few animals, but it was the closest he’s gotten to a nonviolent life since his first.
He died at age 84. Next. Maybe a large family next time? He could go for some siblings.
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Tanya was born to farmers, religious ones. They were true believers, and for them, she tolerated Being X’s face everywhere. With thirteen siblings, they gladly waved goodbye as she went to “the big city” to go to school.
She became a lawyer, and finally got to jump into the legal profession, as she suspected she might have back in her second life. She impressed one of the partners early on, and became his protege. He was arrogant, loved the sound of his own name, and he had to be removed from the profession after suffering senility rather than retiring gracefully, but he taught her a lot about law that she never really understood.
She died at age 74. Next. Something new this time!
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Tina was born on a hellhole planet, sold into slavery by one of the local marauders, and escaped the scientific facility after losing both of her parents.
She may have overreacted just a bit, but honestly that whole galaxy just pissed her off.
She died at age 19 in a blaze of glory. New is overrated. Next. How about another half-human? Being a Saiyan was fun.
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Sophia was a half-dragon that lived in a desert village, the only place in the world where dragons can be accepted. She studied magic, specifically divination, the art of seeing the future. It was a long life, and a peaceful one.
Mostly.
There was that time where some asshole made life force golems and intended to eat a dragon for immortality. She kept the actual village safe with her precognition, but lacked the magical oomph to do anything to stop him. Fortunately, the Archsage did. Unfortunately, he died in the attempt.
The bigger problem was a few decades after that, though. A bigger asshole was breeding and enslaving dragons, details irrelevant. She had to step up and protect the village with offensive magic this time, and aided the forces that arrayed themselves against that asshole.
She wasn’t proud of how many dragons she had to personally rip apart with magic to accomplish this, and even less proud of how many she tore apart with the power of turning into a dragon.
She died at the age of 1,048. Next. How about being a boy this time? Maybe royalty?
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Albert was indeed born a prince, but in interesting times. His uncle had his father assassinated, and that led to a succession crisis and a civil war. Being only eight at the time, all Albert could do is to portray himself as a wise and gifted administrator, which certainly won him fans but could not appease the power-hungry uncle, now proclaiming himself Emperor.
Unfortunately, the reason he was so confident was because an ancient elf-like warrior wanted the magical relic that bonded itself to the royal line, and promptly had Albert abducted and stole it.
Given both the fact that this item could lead to a literal apocalypse and that he was conveniently bonded to a dragonstone that was held by a good friend that got killed, Albert felt that he was obligated to get this relic back.
After that exciting adventure, Albert led his kingdom into developing industries, and learned quite a bit about governance and pre-industrial bureaucracy. It was useful knowledge.
He died at the age of 51. Next.
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She was born sickly and died at the age of 8 months. Next.
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She was born to a maid, and was assigned to the newborn Princess at twelve. She protected her charge with her life, finally losing it at the age of 19. Next.
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He was born to a society in the midst of becoming colonized by a superior power. His medical knowledge was insufficient in the face of primitive biowarfare, and he died at age seven. Next.
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She was the daughter of a rich CEO, and though her life was constantly in the spotlight, not once did anyone suspect her of being more than human, as she had no need of a single scrap of her knowledge, so comfortable was her life. She died at age 98. Next.
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Someone was trying to resurrect their daughter through magic and robotics. They drew in her soul instead. She was a weapon with a soul, for their was their primary weapon against their enemy. She died in battle five days before their tenth full year as a combat gynoid.
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He was born in a salvage station, and never once had the freedom to visit a planet, despite rising to esteemed height as a technician and engineer. He died at age 143. Next.
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He was a level 73 [Worldly Archmage of Memories] that died at the age of 162. Next.
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He was born to rebels and died at the age of 13. Next.
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Her gym specialized in ghost-type pokemon and she died at the age of 94. Next.
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Next. Next. Next. Next. Nextnextnextnextnextnext…
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She was born to a slave. This led to a branding at age four, a burn mark that should have stayed for her entire life.
However, this world had magical fruits that could get you power.
She was fed the Snake-snake fruit when she was six, for the entertainment of the masters. As someone who learned a lot from Orochimaru, lifetimes ago, this was enough.
Within the day, Marejois burned, as every injury only ever left flesh wounds, shed like so many scales. She had a dozen bounty posters, because they never dreamed that just one person could do such a thing. It helped that she could use any of her old faces, merely by shedding her skin. Many of them had powerful bodies, and while she couldn’t quite use all of her old tricks… she could use enough.
She didn’t finish the job, though. Sophia’s divination manifested as a more… passive awareness of people and their power levels, and there were definitely forces that were going to wreck her if she stuck around for long enough for them to show up.
They were eventually recruited by the local rebels. Well, ‘local’ was a bit misleading when the governmental body was near global in its reach.
It was a truly wondrous life, with many fantastical sights. They bore witness to the world turning upside down, and true to their symbology, the serpent that is a sign of renewal, they played a vital role in bringing the world into a new era.
They eventually ended up hibernating for a thousand years, and finally brought out the face this life was born with. They had a fun adventure, and said goodbye to the spirit that they had spent so much time with, allowing their body to crumble into dust as the fruit left them.
They died at the age of 1,108.
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Their soul was now a snake, and that pleased them. Some would prefer phoenixes, and they’re nice, but shedding their skin was a much more apt metaphor for their immortality. They also weren’t the biggest fan of fire theming.
…Hm. Being X’s curse is gone. Despite that golden sheen having vanished… the waters that the souls flow in… there’s a light tugging sensation, they supposed, but it didn’t require an iota of effort to maintain themselves, their sense of self proof against the erosion that is natural here.
What now? Try and find a place they’ve been before to test a few more things? No, that doesn’t sound good… Well, which universes can they find?
The various universes were actually pretty interesting. Most notably, upon further review, there were actually a fair amount more universes than they thought that weren’t part of the flow of souls at all.
Another neat trick refined over lifetimes and only now sufficiently developed to be useful was that they could… kind of sense the contents of a universe before going in. As someone who spent an awful long time as a snake, this was most easily translated as those exotic senses. Visually, there were some differences, but they had no context to understand those differences. With the four additional senses they now possessed? They had a fair bit more knowledge.
…Ah. They recognize that universe. That’s where they lived with Mary. Hm, maybe they could go say hi? Yes, that sounds good.
Okay, next test: Entering a universe without becoming a baby. Yes, that sounds good.
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“Oh, it’s Gohan.” Zeno said immediately on their arrival. “Been a while.” As it turned out, doing that got you sent straight to the top god in the Pantheon. Or, more likely, the Grand Priest intercepted them.
Gohan took a moment to examine their body. Yes, they were still a snake. A large one, big enough to swallow a grown man without dislocating their jaw. “It’s nice to see you again, Zeno. How have things been in my absence?” He said politely, easily able to converse with someone they absolutely loathed without letting it show on his face.
“Eh, got bored, made a bunch of new universes, wiped out the old ones.” Zeno said casually, which was entirely in character for him. “Wanna play a game?”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.” Gohan replied, “How long has it been since my absence, by the way? Lost my watch a hundred universes ago at least.”
Zeno just looked at the Grand Priest. The angel chuckled. “It has been about one and a half million years locally, Grand Zeno. You’ve got the universe running pretty quickly.” Gohan knew the man had it down to the second, but also knew that Grand Zeno absolutely did not care about more than two significant digits.
“That sounds right.” He said, nodding to himself. “These new universes are way cooler than the one you visited.”
“Are they?” Gohan asked, vaguely interested. “What did you improve on?”
“That’s boring. I just do whatever and see what happens.” Zeno explained, “The real winner is Universe 3. Everyone there can become an immortal wish-granting dragon if they grow strong enough.”
Gohan nodded appreciatively. “I’ve done that before, it’s awesome.” Minus the wish-granting, but only because he knew what kind of bullshit dragons in this universal cluster can pull off.
“I can see that.” Zeno said, gesturing to Gohan’s serpentine form.
“So how about that game?” Gohan asked.
As it turned out, Zeno’s total lack of creativity and immaturity made it so that any game he invents are dreadfully boring, as he still thought of random dice rolls as the epitome of game design.
Still, Grand Priest was quite helpful in teaching them the technique on how to exit the universe without dying. They’re sure it will be quite useful.
Which next? Oh. This one… Yes. This one again. Once more, into the breach.