Zane Cerulin’s last act on Earth was to grab a bag of groceries from the passenger seat of his truck. Then the world slammed closed around him.

Bitter water suddenly filled his mouth and nose without warning or explanation. Unbearable pressure crushed in on him from every side while darkness blinded him completely.

[Warning: Integration interrupted. Cancelling. . .]

There was no thought in his mind of questioning how he’d somehow fallen into water, instinctive panic overwriting everything with the need to reach the surface and get air. He flailed wildly for only an instant before old instincts overtook him. He closed his mouth and pressed his lip tight against his nose to hold in what breath remained, crouched against the ground beneath his feet, and kicked off hard while pulling with his arms. His only hope was to reach the surface.

[Warning: Incompatible species. Hecta inversion pending. 30 seconds remaining.]

“Non-ocean origin,” a voice spoke with urgency, the sound oddly undistorted by the water.

Other voices replied at once, overlapping each other. “Iknarsis.” “Protetsas.” “Aerinen.”

The water withdrew and Zane dropped to the floor. For an instant he choked in a vacuum, then air flooded into the space. He doubled over, coughing and retching as he expelled unwanted ocean from his lungs. Then he fell to one knee, sucking in air in great unsteady gasps.

Everything was happening too fast. He couldn't process it all. Beneath the adrenaline and panic a tiny piece of his mind was convinced he'd had some kind of mental breakdown.

Blue light bloomed gently, flowing outward from the sphere of air around him. He blinked to clear the stinging briny water from bleary eyes, squinting at the vague impression of deep water and a vast cathedral space.

"This one seems to be having a harder time than most," murmured a disdainful male voice. "It's probably going to run."

A female voice cut across him, ignoring the comment. "Reactivate the integration, the hecta won't hold forever."

"What. The hell—" Zane coughed a final time and wiped his mouth on a (surprisingly dry) sleeve, "—is going on?"

His heart was still racing from the initial panic, and part of him was still frozen in a loop of internally screaming what? What? WHAT?! but the whole thing was far too detailed to be a dream or hallucination. He needed information.

He got to his feet, staring around at the endless water fading to darkness in all directions around them, submerged citadel, glowing diagrams tracing the tiled floor, and anxious merfolk floating in a half circle around him.

At least now his panic was beginning to recede. The scene, for all its terror a moment before, was surprisingly calm.

"Integracis meiatosas," sang out a third voice, a child's high pure tones. "Eranon heratnos."

"Is that supposed to mean something? I don't speak... fish-person." But he'd understood some of their discussion, hadn't he?

He stood in a wide hexagonal plaza. Ornately carved and seamlessly fitted tiles of a light silvery stone covered the ground, the seams between them glowing lines of white light. There were no proper walls, but rather an intricate latticework of twisting coral through which small fish swam in and out.

For a moment, he simply stared, entranced by the intricate patterns of the multi-hued coral that made up the walls, the way the different textures were interlaced in ways he'd never have thought could work as well as they did.

[Hecta inversion paused. Resume return sequence?]

His gasping breaths turned to unsteady half laughter and he ran a hand across his face. None of this was making any sense at all.

The groceries lay spilled across the floor at his feet, the plastic bag drifting away in the water outside the bubble of air.

[Warning: Integration compatibility below safety thresholds. Permission required to continue. Allow override?]

"And what are all these windows popping up about?" He wasn't about to give anything permission to do anything until he knew what he was agreeing to.

“That is the choice before you."

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Zane’s eyes shifted to the speaker, and then lingered as he felt drawn to her inexorably. Something about the alien shape of her brilliant sky blue eyes, the pale green of her skin and gradient of navy blue scales running up her shapely body, fit perfectly into his soul as the definition of beauty itself.

He’d taken a step forward before he realized it, only stopping when he reached the water at the edge of his bubble of air. The shock of wetness reminded him that he was foreign here and would not survive in their environment.

He was so entranced that he nearly missed her next words.

“We have summoned you here, to fulfil our ancient… well, to call it a prophecy is not accurate. Rather, it is a… clarified depiction of our hopes.” She raised a hand, pointing upward.

Zane followed her gesture, his gaze drifted across grand archways set into the coral fencing, carved as ornately as the floor, then to the ceiling. This was clearly what she spoke of. It soared overhead in a grand dome, its entire surface covered by a mural of tiny stone tiles: a shining trident surrounded by hundreds of blue- and teal-skinned figures prostrating themselves to it. Only one figure stood upright, and it was shown in hues of black and deep blue, uncertain in form, standing out from the rest both in style and stance.

“Do not distract the outsider with your caveats and specifics, Myli.”

Zane's eyes dropped from the mural to the new speaker, the same one whose first words were to accuse him of weakness and cowardice. Zane disliked him already. His critic had red scales and long black fins trailing from his arms and legs vaguely reminiscent of an angelfish. But his expression and tone were anything but angelic.

He stood stiffly, drifting in the water about a foot off the ground, and had one hand on his hip and the other held to his lips curiously. His eyes were a fiery orange that stared down at Zane as though he were a mosquito the mer was trying to decide how best to squash. “To call it prophecy is simpler--”

“Hey, hold up.” Zane's ire was rising with each word the red-scaled mer spoke. If there weren't so much water between them, he'd probably have thrown a punch. “Let the lady talk, jerk. Don’t try to shut down the one person willing to explain things.”

“I do not want to deceive.” Myli smiled and nodded to him, the movement sending her golden hair rippling out behind her in playful coils, and Zane's pulse quickened in response. “We have seen that those acting under the assumption that a prophecy guarantees them success are guaranteed only overconfidence and failure. Better to be clear of that from the beginning. There is no promise of victory, but--”

“The hecta cannot be held midway forever,” interrupted an elder merman, his scales grey and smoky as though nearly transparent, his hair pure white as it drifted around his shoulders. “Duon has a point. Do not waste words.”

Myli nodded. “Yes, Father.” She spoke to Zane again. “There should be two windows before you.”

Zane nodded, eyes flicking to the alerts hovering just out of sight. Focusing on them made him vaguely nauseous, the double vision dizzying, but they were perfectly readable.

[Resume hecta inversion process?]

[Allow integration override?]

Zane half laughed, the absurdity of his situation hitting him all over again. “I see them.”

Myli continued speaking. “If you choose to reverse the hecta, it will return you to your world. Though we have called you here, we cannot hold you against your will. The boundaries between worlds are not so lightly violated. If you choose to allow the integration and remain, you will be remade in the likeness of one native to this world, else you would not long survive and could not hope to bring our salvation. This decision will bind you to our world, and you will no longer have the option to return to your home.”

The older merman spoke again, his voice growing strained. “I can give you another minute perhaps. He must choose quickly.”

Zane glanced between the four of them, old and young, critical and beautiful. A strange but powerful feeling began growing in his chest. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’ve summoned me here from my normal life to become a merman hero?”

“We will understand if you want to leave,” spoke the fourth for the first time. He was a small purple-scaled mer sitting against the coral wall, flapping his leg fins back and forth. He looked about the size and shape of a ten-year-old boy, with huge dark blue eyes and short black hair. Or was it hair? It looked thicker and the tip of each strand ended in a tiny glowing dot of purple light.

"Leor?" Myli sounded uncertain, but the boy didn't acknowledge her.

“The life we offer is one of toil and hardship, of battle and betrayal, of desperate hope and sure defeat. There is no shame in returning to what is comfortable and familiar.” His smile, swishing feet, and singsong cadence were at odds with the solemnity of his words.

“Hush, boy,” the elder merman reproved, glancing warily at Zane. “There is such a thing as being too honest.”

Zane’s eyes lingered on Myli, then drifted up at the ceiling mural once again, and he finally recognized the feeling welling up in his core for what it was.

Curiosity. Excitement. Anticipation.

A smile crept across his face. Oddly enough, the promise of danger only made it grow stronger.

Seeing this place reminded him of time he’d spent traveling, of explorations across the world before settling into his life and the mundanity of working day in and day out.

Zane hesitated only a moment. It wasn’t hard to make his decision.

“Oh, hell no, I’m not going back to earth! You’ve got a heroic quest for me? I’m in.”

He pressed the button.

[Override accepted. Return sequence cancelled. Resuming integration.]

[Recreation commencing . . .]

[Protective hecta established. Security verified.]

[System integration critically low. Rectifying . . .]

[Notice: Please ready yourself. This will hurt.]

Zane barely had time to read the screens as they appeared one after the other, then his body convulsed in sudden agony as he was shredded into tiny pieces, each one somehow still screaming directly into his mind as it dissolved. It felt like he imagined being run through a particularly aggressive food processor would, if the remainder of his self was then dropped directly into a lake of acid.

If he'd still had any control over his body, or a body worth controlling, he'd have been screaming. Instead he endured. Waves of searing heat and burning cold ebbed and flowed as the process continued.

Then it tore at something deeper, and even that sensation dissolved.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got work.” Zane’s voice echoed in his ears, crackling with static.

“You say that every time. When was the last time you had a proper vacation?” Jason’s voice, this time accompanied by fleeting impressions. The office, Zane’s desk, the angle he leaned back in his chair, the cord of the phone that held him tethered.

For a moment that felt very important. A connection that stretched but held.

“I take a vacation every year,” Zane’s memory-self replied with a laugh.

“To do what?”

“Relax, de-stress, prepare for the rest of the year—“

“See? See! That right there. You haven’t left the country in years.”

“So?”

“What happened to you?”

Zane heard himself sigh, the sound a spark of lightning across his bared self. “Same thing that happens to everyone. Life. Responsibility. I can’t go chasing sunsets—“

Then the memory slipped away, dissolving into static as awareness of the present moment returned.

He watched as though from outside himself as tiny glowing threads knit his body back together leaving a white-glowing mesh frame that covered him from head to toe. The pain of being torn apart and reassembled gradually faded as sensation returned to something approaching normal. Then, he once again stood in his air bubble. Though looking down at himself he seemed physically unchanged from his initial state, he could feel the fragility of the façade. Inside was where things were different, and the integrity of his current form would not hold for long.

[Integration successful. Resuming standard recreation.]

[Analyzing species . . .]

[Analysis complete. Species: Unknown. Ranking: Unknown. Exchange rate: Unknown.]

[Rectifying . . .]

[Species: Unknown Type 4. Ranking: Unique. Exchange rate: 100%. Please make your selections.]

Zane's eyes grew bigger and bigger as windows began appearing in front of him, promising transformation to any form he could possibly desire.

He could choose the shape of every part of his new body, could direct strength into his legs or arms, increase the toughness of his scales or the power of his eyesight.

Laughing with surprised wonder, like a kid given leave to purchase anything he wanted from the ice cream truck, he started pushing everything up to its maximum.