PROLOGUE

The weather's bleak today, isn't it? Jose thought as he walked along the cracked sidewalk. It was chilly, and heavy clouds dominated the sky. Normal for an early morning in December, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling he'd been wrestling with since rolling out of bed. It felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff he couldn't see the bottom of, waiting for someone to inevitably push him off.

Helpless. A feeling he was all too familiar with.

"Shake it off, Jose, we can handle this," he muttered to himself.

Jose had spent his whole life feeling helpless; growing up an orphan in a group home will do that to a person. At least that's what Rebecca, his therapist, had tried to hammer into his head during their sessions.

Ugh... therapy, Jose shuddered at the reminder. He really didn't like therapy; it wouldn't be too far to say he hated it, actually. And yet, here here he was.

Jose stopped in front of an old brown building. It was outdated but well-kept, with flowers lining the windowsills and a nice wreath hanging on the door. It was inviting and homey, the perfect disguise for the house of horrors he had come to know it as. Maybe he'll grab some wings on the way home, salvage this terrible start of a day. There's not much that can't be solved with some hot wings and a bottle of ranch, after all. A good game to binge wouldn't hurt either; it felt nice to escape the world sometimes.

"Let's get this over with," he sighed. Deciding he'd stalled long enough, Jose quickly made his way into the building.

Inside, he was greeted with posters, dozens plastered on every inch of every wall. Jose didn't doubt the ceiling would be covered as well if they could manage it. Cheesy lines and fluffy cats surrounded him as he made his way to the front desk. After a brief word with the receptionist, he walked up the short flight of stairs leading to Sheila's office. Deciding there was no rush, he sat outside to wait for her to call him in. She was given word of his arrival by reception, and he wanted to steal away as much peace as he could before she chose to pick apart his life. Did he mention he really hated therapy?

Soon after, too soon for Jose's liking, a woman's voice rang out from behind the door, "Jose, I'm ready for you now."

Like a man facing execution, Jose slowly stood up and made his way into the too-sterile room. Maybe this morning won't be so bad.

---

Jose would call himself a pretty intelligent guy. He did well in school and was quick to pick things up. He tried his best to always be right the first time, minimize failure, and project competence. However, when he was wrong, holy shit was he wrong.

"Well, that sucked," Jose murmured to himself.

He had spent the last hour being coerced into a conversation he'd be happy to never have again. What was the point of discussing the family he no longer had, would never have again? If Jose didn't know any better, he would think Rebecca just liked seeing him upset. Therapy was truly the most heinous of torture methods.Sure thing, bamboo driven under his fingernails would be a welcome alternative. Still, while he didn't enjoy these sessions, she always gave him something to think about later. Jose wasn't the best at communication, wasn't the best at interacting with the rest of the world, period if he was honest. He'd been on his own for almost his entire life; he's become pretty good at keeping himself company. It was almost preferable that way.

Almost.

At the end of the day, Jose was human; he yearned for social interaction. To be a part of something bigger than himself. A new family to call his own.

It had been a few years since his parents died, almost 14 years. Jose was too young to fully grasp what he had lost at the time. Hell, he can't even remember the sound of his mother's voice anymore. It gnawed at him deep into the night as he struggled for a few hours of precious sleep.

It was these types of thoughts that plagued him constantly, that plagued him as he walked across the street towards his lousy apartment that he could barely afford. And unluckily, or perhaps luckily, these were the thoughts that kept him from noticing the concrete mixer barreling towards him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Jose's last thought interrupted as he was turned into roadkill. 

CHAPTER 1

   He awoke to a pinging sound ringing in his ears, head pounding and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Jose looked around quickly before realizing there was nothing to see. "OH, fuck, I'm blind!" he yelled in panic.

   He had a hard enough time connecting with people, now he can't even see them? He was definitely gonna die a virgin. 

   Before he could dissolve into a puddle of despair and sexual frustration, though, he looked down at himself and realized he could see just fine. He stared at his hand before wiggling around his fingers. Yep, seems to be my hand alright. As he calmed down, he decided to take a closer look at the space around him. And space was truly all it was. He was surrounded in a blank sea of white as far as the eye could see. No walls, no roof, not even a damn floor.

   "OH ok, I'm having a psychotic break, that must be it," he reasoned with himself. How in the hell did this room even exist, he wasn't even sure it WAS a room. There was no sound to be heard either, which really wasn't helping with his rising sense of panic. "I don't even see a door, how the hell am I gonna get out of here?"

   A few minutes went by as Jose struggled in vain to come up with a plan of escape. "What if there's nothing to escape to?" He quickly shook his head.

   "That's definitely not helping," he said with a sigh. He was all but resigned to his fate of staying there forever when he heard a faint pop and thud somewhere in the room. Quickly jumping to his feet, he didn't have to look for long before noticing an odd addition to his new home. A set of comfy looking chairs had appeared about 15 feet to his left. Confused, Jose stared at them for a minute, wondering what was supposed to happen next. Maybe a nice table will pop in and complete the ensemble. After around a half an hour of waiting, he came to the conclusion that the ball must be in his court now. Enough time had gone by for Jose to scrape together a modest amount of willpower, enough to slowly walk over and take a look at the chairs anyway. They seemed to be made of plain, but sturdy materials. Materials like none he had ever seen before. All dark, gnarled wood and thick leather. After a minute of inspection, he decided they seemed safe enough to sit in. Walking the last couple of feet to the nearest chair, he plopped himself down.

    Half expecting the chair to blow up, Jose was surprised when nothing happened. It was indeed just a chair, as comfy as he imagined it would be. Happy he had gotten that right at least and distracted by his new beautiful throne, he didn't notice the figure who appeared in the other chair until-

"Welcome initiate, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever sit down ."

Practically falling out of his wonderful chair, Jose was startled to see a man dressed in what he could only describe as business casual. Nice slacks, a crisp white button up and freshly polished black shoes, ready for a day at the office it seemed.

   After staring at the smartly dressed man for what had to be longer than socially acceptable, he collected himself and addressed his visitor, "Hey, um who are you and why am I here, also what the hell is an initiate?". It took everything left in him to speak without his voice betraying how anxious he was. While he succeeded, sadly he was unable to do anything about the sweat starting to spot his shirt.

This guy is... off. He's disgustingly handsome. Unnaturally so, like someone designed him with a deft hand and a lot of love. Almost doll-like, not a blemish or—

"I am an artificial guide, appointed by the system to oversee the integration of initiates into the wider multiverse. You may call me artificial guide, or guide for short. I understand nicknames are a good way to establish familiarity between humans, yes?" the artificial guide, or just guide, replied.

"Sure, I guess that's true. And there you go again with that initiate stuff. What the hell is an initiate? I never signed up for anything like this. Are you the CIA or something? Oh god, I'm getting MK Ultra'd. Are you even human?" Jose bombarded the strange well-dressed man. Now he was really starting to get nervous. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

The guide sat eerily still until Jose finished speaking. Without missing a beat, he replied, "Initiates are beings born in universes not yet integrated within the system. Due to the drastic changes the merge brings, an initiation process was created to better prepare incoming life for their new reality, a push in the right direction if you will." After pausing for a second, the guide continued, "As for why you specifically have found yourself here, that is simple. It seems your universe is ready to ascend and join."

   "Your universe is being prepared for integration with the system; the time is nearly at hand. As part of this preparation, a group of test initiates are chosen from among the population who meet the prerequisite conditions for early integration. It would seem you have met these prerequisites.", the guide finished. 

Jose sat back, too stunned to speak. What the hell is going on here? I must be losing it. Even so, the alternative is too serious to gamble against for now. I could still taste a little bit of that truck in my mouth; there's no way I got out of that scot-free. I was either experiencing severe trauma, or this was real. Deciding to ride out this dialogue option, Jose asked, "And what were these prerequisites?"

The guide paused again before speaking. Was he talking to someone?

"There are four requirements one has to meet in order to qualify for early integration," the guide responded. "First, they must be from a universe on the brink of integration; one cannot cheat the system, only loosely toe the line using powerful magics and expensive divine relics. Secondly, one has to have died within a designated week's time to limit the number of initiates allowed through; too many would heighten the risk of death or serious injury during integration. Thirdly, only those with no strong connection to the world they leave behind may be selected: no next of kin, no serious friendships or obligations, and no major impact upon disappearance. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, one must possess a wilted truesoul. Those who have found little meaning in the lives they led before, those searching for a path, a way forward. Glory, power, wealth, strength, even life everlasting—all can be gained through the system. Every path is viable. A gift for those who wish to seize it.

Well, this is depressing. Not only did I die, but I got called a sad loser too. The double whammy. This was like therapy all over again.

The reality of his death had been slowly sinking in throughout this entire conversation, but to hear it confirmed outright formed a lump in his throat that he struggled to clear. The fact that his utter lack of family and friends also contributed didn't help either. Jose was really dead, and now he was in some kind of isekai anime mess. He even got hit by truck-kun. A small part of him always hoped he would see his family again one day, when he passed—that they'd go to heaven and be reunited, all hugs and tears. Now, not even that was an option. He felt more powerless than ever.

But... isn't that what this opportunity was all about? Power, knowledge, and the time to make something of himself. Hell, maybe he might even be able to bring back his family through the system. Anything seemed possible at this point. If he died and was brought back by the system, maybe there was a way...

Having calmed his thoughts, Jose abruptly addressed the guide, "I'm ready. Walk me through the process.".