Peace.

I drift within a realm of pure, boundless peace, as if my soul is wrapped in a mantle of warmth and hope, shielding me from all cold and doubt. My memories, my awareness, my sense of self—they stand on the edge, slowly going away. I blink, though I have no eyes, slipping in and out of consciousness like a fish breaking the water's surface, then diving back down, only to rise again. There are fragments in my mind I can still grasp, enough to remember that I had a life—a life that ended, it seems, in tragedy.

And yet, this thought doesn't bother me.

I lived, and I died, giving the best of myself. Whatever or wherever I am now, it feels strangely right, like a final acceptance of the natural course of things. Change is inevitable, after all. All living things transform, no matter how tightly they cling to the past. And just as I begin to settle into this strange comfort, the sense of calm shifts, almost as if some unseen force is pulling me away.

The world seems to spin around me, or perhaps it's me who is shifting out of place.

Suddenly, I collide with something familiar—water. I dive into it, and a spark of panic flares within me. Kicking, gasping, I thrash to the surface, desperate for air, even in this strange, formless state.

When I reach the surface, I drag myself up onto a small platform, encircled by a beautiful garden of golden flowers, and confusion overwhelms me. Something has gone deeply wrong. My soul senses it, resonating with unease.

"Human," a voice echoes, low and powerful, rippling through the air. "Arise."

At the sound, I feel my strength return, energy gathering around me. I am no longer a formless essence, I now have shape. I glimpse myself in the water's surface—a figure of pure white, humanoid yet plain, stripped down to the essence of a being.

But there's no time to appreciate this new form, as my gaze lifts, drawn to an immense creature hovering over the waters. A golden dragon, scaled and radiant, fills my vision, and I am forced to sink to one knee in awe of its sheer presence.

"You're…" I whisper, hardly daring to breathe. "God?"

"A god," the golden dragon corrects calmly. "One of many you know of. Perhaps the only one interested in your mortal soul."

I raise my gaze, gritting my teeth against the weight of its radiance. "Why?" My voice trembles. "Why me?"

The being's form shifts, an ethereal motion that mirrors itself in the surface of the lake as he slowly steps down from the heavens, until it takes on a shape more like my own, a human silhouette crowned with long horns. With this shift, the oppressive force around me lightens enough for me to rise. I do not.

"Knowledge," it replies, stepping toward me with a graceful, otherworldly calm. "I require a servant to act in the mortal realm. One who can fulfill a purpose long neglected."

Recognition dawns on me, chilling and surreal. This god, this being of light, is indeed something I know of—a character of fiction, his existence no more likely than that of any other cartoon. Yet here he stands, and I am helpless within his grasp. But at least, I can imagine what he wants.

"Salem…" I murmur.

My recognition seems to please him. "That woman must be dealt with, by any means necessary."

"What about your brother?" I ask before I can stop myself, remembering all too well the fate of the last man caught between these two gods.

"My brother need not know of you. The pact I made with him is binding, honest, and pure." His tone holds a kind of resigned reverence. "Should you fail, I will honor my promise to end this world. This is my final attempt to grant your kind a path toward redemption, my way to tip the scales in your favor. Remember that."

His words carve themselves into my mind at his command, painfully so, as truths forged in fire, making sure I'll remember them until the day I die.

"Will you serve me?"

I don't need to ask about alternatives; the void is all that awaits me if I refuse. There is nothing else for me.

"Yes," I answer, looking up into his eyes, which gleam a molten silver. "It would be my honor."

"Then be reborn beneath my grace."

He reaches out, touching my forehead with a single claw, and my being unravels. A thousand choices flood my mind—eyes, nose, lips, hair, the structure of a face—and though I do not consciously choose, the right shape emerges, as if it had always been mine. When it is done, I look into the water again.

The man who stares back is young, with stark black hair framing a pale face, his expression one of quiet resolve. He is not the most beautiful man I've ever seen, yet there is a calm, composed strength in him that feels truer than anything I once had. He is me, he is more of me than I have ever been.

And then there are his eyes.

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Their shape was my choice, but the color—an intense, shifting silver—was not. They seem alive, changing with every glimmer of light, power hiding behind them. And knowing what's in store for me, I cannot complain.

"My servant," the god continues, "I will guide you, and if you follow, no obstacle will impede your path."

Somehow, I doubt it will be that simple. "How will I be… presented upon the world?"

The god frowns, a slight narrowing of its brow. “Time will shape you, and you will gain the power required for your task. Until then, you shall live… a modest life, inconsequential in appearance, yet rich with meaning if you make it so. And remember, our bond must remain a secret. My brother must not learn of you.”

A sigh of relief escapes me. I won't need to pretend to be a child, feigning ignorance of the world for years as I slowly pretend to learn to read and write. Nor will I be thrust into conflict unprepared, expected to kill an immortal with powers I barely understand. It feels… It feels like a great deal, too good to be true.

"Thank you," I say honestly now. "I swear, I will do all I can."

The god’s satisfaction is almost tangible. “You will receive further instructions soon. Coalescing with other deities, I’ve arranged a modern method of communication. I believe you’ll find it quite sufficient.”

With nothing more to say, he flicks his hand, and in a rush of light, I am cast away. The worlds blur around me, light and shadow mingling as I fall from the sky into my new life.

When I land, I am seated at a simple table on a windowless, dirty room. Papers scattered everywhere. A gun in my hand. Vodka in the other. I don’t need to read further to know what this means.

Did I just replace a guy who was about to shoot himself?

Before panic can take hold, a notification flashes before me.

“Hell, nah…”

Ping!

This is a test for the God Quest System. Please, confirm your correct reincarnation!

[Confirm/Deny]

The temptation to hit Deny is almost unbearable. But I resist, gritting my teeth. Confirming my status is followed by the most generic videogame chime known to mankind.

[Mission completed] You have confirmed being alive! Hooray!

Reward: Access to the basic menu.

[New mission] Explore the basic menu.

[New mission] Gather as much information as possible before they arrive.

“Before who arrives, you damned thing?!”

With no response to my anger, I force my attention back to the papers scattered in front of me, this time actually reading through them. A list of names, maps, building schematics, and records of transactions fill the page. My breath catches as I realize what I’m following—an entire lot of illegal contraband.

And at the center of it all? The Schnee family.

Whoever was sitting in this room before I took over wasn’t just dabbling in shady dealings., they were knees-deep in them. These documents are the breadcrumbs leading to some sort of prized vault, but there's no mention of what’s inside. As if someone wanted to make sure no one, not even the buyers, knew the full picture. If the system wasn’t practically pushing me to dig deeper, I’d turn around and never look back.

[Mission completed] The more you know!

Rewards: Skill: Observe/Skill: Listen.

I barely register the new Listen skill before my senses sharpen unnaturally, stretching beyond the room. Outside, a car comes to a halt down the block. I sense two large, heavy figures stepping out, their footsteps deliberate, heading for my door.

“Yo! Kid, you there?” one of them growls, his voice rough as sandpaper

A quick check of the gun reveals a single dust shell. Great. Not much, but better than nothing. I tuck it behind my back and move toward the door. The two men are already there, leaning against the wall like stereotypical mob goons—sunglasses and all, despite the fact it’s the middle of the night. Inconspicuous. Not.

Ah, yes, Vale’s finest undercover operatives.

“Change of plans, detective. You’re coming with us tonight,” says the taller one, attempting a faux-refined tone, as if he’s auditioning for a mobster role.

“I thought my job was just handling the intel.” I try bluffing, though the odds feel thinner by the second.

“No can do, boyo. Boss sayin’ we’re skipping town after tonight’s hit, so if you want ya’ cut, you’re coming along.”

[New mission] Engage in theft.

“Well… that sound’s fantastic, then.”

Forcing a smile, I let them herd me into the car. As the engine hums to life, I mentally pull up my system menu, curious if my new companions would react to it. Worst-case scenario, I could claim it’s my semblance or something. Luckily, just focusing on the icon at the corner of my view brings the system to life silently.

[Stats]

[Skills]

[Magic]

[Quests]

[Memories]

[Inventory]

[Utility]

Might as well see how bad things are. Stats, then.

Name:

Age: 17

Level: 1 (50%)

Race: Human

Aura: Unlocked

Title: None

HP: [-100%-]

MP: [-100%-]

Aura: [-100%-]

Stats:

Str: 12

Dex: 10

Con: 10

Int: 13

Wis: 10

Cha: 10

Average stats with a little extra intelligence. I could almost blush.

[Mission completed] Know thyself, whoever he is.

The user has leveled up! Upa-yay!

Whatever strangled sound escapes me must have been loud enough to catch the attention of the two goons. They exchange a very confused glance.

“Sorry, sorry,” I say, waving them off. “I haven’t been sleeping well. All this… I’m a bit in over my head.”

The smaller one, the man with a mustache so thick it nearly devours his mouth, lets out a hearty laugh, slapping his knee. “You can say that twice, kiddo. Pretty soon, you’ll be the kind of lad who steals from the most powerful family we’ll never know.”

Oh, you'd be surprised, I think, recalling that some of them would soon be far from unknown around here.

As the city lights blur past, one unsettling thought starts bothering me—When exactly am I? Years before the main story? Has the White Fang already made its move? Is the fall of Beacon months or days away? I force the questions aside and focus on what I can control. I have a new level, and points to assign.