A male dulcet voice carrying English words beckoned Ted back to consciousness. “Welcome, welcome! I wondered when you’d come to visit me.”

Ted peeled his eyes open. A tall, grinning man sat behind an old-style oak desk, dressed in a modern Earth military uniform, two stars on his shoulder.

A general? Was this all a crazy CIA experiment, after all?

Given what they had gotten up to over the years, that wasn’t reassuring. Or rather, it shouldn’t have been.

Ted smiled. There wasn’t anything to be worried about. Not really. He was safe and secure here.

He leaned back in his own chair and frowned. The circumstances gave him no reason to be calm. Quite the opposite, in fact. Had they drugged him? That would be the least they could do after everything they’d put him through.

The general smiled and gestured to the small room around them. “Did I get it right?”

Whatever the room was meant to be, “right” wasn’t the word to describe it. Beautiful mahogany panels covered the walls, unbroken by anything even resembling a door. Behind the man hung the stars and stripes—except not quite. The middle line of stars repeated itself instead of alternating short and long—forty-six stars. That had to be, what, from the early 1900s?

A red rotary dial phone sat upon the desk beside a slim white laptop. Maybe the general just liked old stuff. Enjoying antiques wouldn’t be all that crazy, not compared to a day job of kidnapping innocent students and experimenting on them.

Ted’s stomach clenched. There was no way they’d let him go. He knew too much.

Maybe they could be convinced to run the experiment longer, to put him back in the simulation? Rather that than a bullet to the head, especially if he could stop giving a shit about consequences in there.

The general drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk. “Well? How did I do? I’m dying to know.” He chuckled, laughing at a joke only he got.

What did the man mean? And why were there no doors? Ted threw his hands up in the air and shrugged. Even if he had totally lost it, he might as well play along. “Get what right?”

The man gestured flamboyantly around him. “The room.” His smile beamed even larger. “I’m supposed to make you feel comfortable. Information about your kind’s a little patchy, but I think I did splendidly this time.”

What did he mean by “your kind”? Students? No. But if it was humans, then… was he still in whatever it was? Ted focused intently on the man. Maybe Identify would shed some light on the truth.

The man, if he even was one, bellowed with laughter. “Your skills won’t work here, Hero.” He leaned forward and his grin transformed into a snarl. “Don’t you know who I am?”

The explosion. The searing pain. The joke the man had made. If Ted was lucky, he’d be wrong, but luck and he had always had an estranged relationship at best. “Death?”

The snarl vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by an overly exuberant smile. “The God of Death, in fact, at least for this world you find yourself in.”

Ted perked up. God of Death or not, this was an opportunity too great to pass over. “You know about other worlds?”

“A little,” Death said, with a smile that teased at more than a little. He had answers. That gave him leverage, and the smugness oozing off of him made clear he knew it.

“And?”

“Tut, tut, tut. Come now, you know how this works. Information is a commodity. You want it, I have it—the question is, what can you give me for it?”

“I can tell you that flag’s out of date. There are fifty states now.”

The god shrugged and the stars rearranged themselves to the more recognizable fifty. “I’m not interested in the meaningless cloth of a backwater planet.”

What would a god of death be interested in? The thought was not a pleasant one. “You want me to kill things?”

“If only.” He sighed. “I miss the good old days, you know? Could barely go a moment without another Hero popping up, waiting to find out what delicious choice I’d put before them. When they didn’t duck out, of course.”

“Duck out?” Ted tried not to seem overly eager, but a way around the death penalty would be invaluable.

“Ah, yes! It’s your first time, isn’t it? Your cherry, as they say on Earth? I never understood why. You don’t know the rules yet, do you?”

Ted shuffled forward to the edge of his seat. “Rules?”

“Every time you die, you get to meet with yours truly. Then, I offer you a choice—a loss of power, or a loss of self.”

Was he being vague on purpose, or was the offer really that arbitrary? “Can you give an example?”

“Of course, of course, my young boy. For instance, I might offer you a choice between indefinitely losing the Light aspect, or losing your emotional empathy.”

Ted blinked. Mess with his mind, the very essence of who he was? No one should hold that sort of power, least of all a god of death. “You mentioned people ducking out?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose I did, didn’t I?” The god smirked and licked his lips. “The penalties stack until you log out for a full day. A real day, that is.”

“I can’t log out.” It wasn’t for lack of trying. Log out, exit, quit—he’d tried everything he could think of, none of it had worked.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Death snickered. “No, you can’t, can you? Not until the System sends you back. A downside of being really here, I’m afraid.”

System? Really here? Hints that he knew more, without giving away anything too useful. Ted’s chest fluttered, all too aware of the stakes. Making an enemy of Death would be a very bad idea, but the possibility of gaining useful information about how and why he was here couldn’t be ignored.

How to get him to answer? Compelling him was clearly out of the question, but the god, or whatever he was, seemed all too eager to flaunt his superiority. He might not offer information, but could he resist providing a correction? “So, all I have to do is log out for 24 hours, and the penalties will be gone. Great!”

“A real day, 12 engars, or 32 and a bit of your hours.” Death smirked. “Not that it matters; you can’t leave. Not until you complete that quest of yours. You should get right on it.”

“You sound rather invested in my quest.” It was a long shot, but Ted would take any leverage he could get his hands on. “How about you help me out with it?”

“What can I say? We both know you’ll die time and again before you complete it, if you ever do. I look forward to many, many more meetings with you.”

If almost all the Heroes were gone, Death probably didn’t get many visitors. That angle made sense, even if it wasn’t the whole story. What if Ted’s father—

A chill ran down Ted’s back. He had to know. “You sound lonely. You wouldn’t have another visitor in, what, centuries? Millenia?”

“Lonely? Me?” Death laughed and whistled. Two young, scantily dressed women appeared, one either side of him. “I am a god. I see what you’re doing, and I won’t fall for it. But, tell you what—next time you’re here, I’ll give you some of the answers you seek.”

Ted snorted. At least that was something to look forward to. All he had to do was die and give up power or his soul. And it seemed Death was done providing morsels of information. Might as well get it over with. “Alright, what’s the choice this time, then?”

“First time is on the house.” Death licked his lips and grinned. “See you again soon, no doubt.”

He waved his hand dismissively. Everything swirled. It spun faster and faster. Colors bled together, darker and darker, until only a void remained.

***

Ted sputtered awake, dirt beneath his back, his eyes welded shut. Every muscle cried out in pain simultaneously, begging for the return of the void. Waking up on his back after blacking out was becoming a bit of a bad habit.

Slowly, groggily, his eyes responded to the call to open. The Forest’s thick canopy loomed above him, illuminated by silvery light that stabbed at his eyeballs.

Jeremy leaned into view. Even his dour frown was a welcome relief. “He’s alive.”

Ted groaned. Did the Light orb hovering above have to be so bright?

Another face appeared. Cara’s, scowling. “I leave you alone for a few hours, and you blow yourself up?” She crossed her arms and half growled, half sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay. You are okay, right?”

Everything ached, but otherwise, Ted was fine, physically, at least. He wasn’t even burned. “I’m okay.”

Jeremy pulled him to his feet. “Couldn’t help yourself.” Not really a question, more a statement of reality.

Could they blame him? Not that there was any judgment in Jeremy’s words, at least not any more than usual. The twenty-foot crater they were stood in was more than enough reminder of his mistake.

“I messed up. Sorry.”

Jeremy shrugged. “It happens. It’s what this area is for. Glad you’re back.”

Cara bounced from side to side, her scowl fading away before that boundless curiosity of hers. “Did you see anything? What was it like?”

“Weird.” Ted paused, turning what had happened over in his mind. Precious little of it made sense. “I met with the God of Death, or someone who claimed to be that. We talked. He told me this one was free, but next time there’ll be a cost.”

Both Cara’s and Jeremy’s eyes glazed over.

Ted sighed. He should have known. “What did I just say?”

Cara tilted her head the way she so often did when thinking hard. Her lips pursed and she frowned. “Something about a cost next time? It’s fuzzy in my mind, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He’d get his answers one day. If it was through Death, then hopefully not too soon. “I think I’m done practicing for the night.”

“You are,” Jeremy said. “Get some sleep. Both of you.”

Ted nodded, too tired to argue. It had been a long day even before blowing himself up.

They walked back to the village in silence. Every so often Cara moved as if to speak, only to say nothing.

Whatever that was about, it could wait. Ted already had enough bullshit questions running amok in his mind. Questions he didn’t want to talk about.

How many times had his father died? What had he given up? Was he so crippled by deaths that he could never complete his quests? Was that why he needed rescuing?

Did he need rescuing?

The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

They reached home without another word. Right before he reached the safety of the bed, she grabbed his wrists and pulled him around to face her.

She looked up at him, her emerald eyes wide, her chin quivering. “I’m glad…” Her grip grew tighter and her feet shuffled on the spot. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Glad that I’m a Hero. He pulled her into a hug and held her tight. That couldn’t have been easy for her to say. “Me too.”

They held the hug for a while, both motionless, holding tight to the other.

Cara pulled away first. “You should sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Ted couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Good night.”

He collapsed into bed, longing for the sweet embrace of sleep. But even as exhaustion clawed as his body, his mind raced with question after question. Questions with no answers.

The “real world” that Death had referred to wasn’t Earth. Was Earth a simulation? Or just a less advanced planet?

The Divine Empire had to have more answers, it was the only lead they had. Dying over and over couldn’t be the only way to find out the truth. The only way to find—

No. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

If he came to it. There was no sense in worrying about what he couldn’t affect. All he could do was follow the evidence. First, though, he had to sleep.

The knowledge that he had to sleep only made it more elusive, not that it was ever anything but. He lay on his back staring up at the bark ceiling, unable to escape an ever-growing tangle of thoughts.

Where had the Lightning spell gone wrong? How was he going to get home? Where was—

He rolled onto his side and looked across the room at Cara, illuminated by a small, silvery orb. She sat cross-legged upon the floor, whittling away. Despite her lack of any Woodworking skill, the carving more and more closely resembled Nibbles.

Pain stabbed at Ted’s chest. A single mistake and he’d died. Cara wouldn’t be so lucky. “It’s not too late to back out,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “You don’t have to come with me.”

Cara looked up, an impish smile upon her lips. “I do.” She put her tools down and laid her hands in her lap, her fingers immediately idly fidgeting. “Even if I didn’t, I would. A chance to see what’s out there, beyond the Forest?” She pulled her knees together and hugged her arms around them. “Look at me. Quest to save the world, and I’m thinking how interesting it’s going to be.”

Ted chuckled half-heartedly. Here he was in a brand-new world, casting magic, and all he could think about was how awful it all was. “It’s good you can do that. I… wish I could.”

“What, be so preoccupied with distractions you leave your learner behind? You get things done, Ted. I screw them up.”

“You’re speaking to the guy who blew himself up tonight.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “That’s true. Less blowing up in future, okay?”

“I make no promises.” If he’d let it go sooner, would he have survived? “The quest will be dangerous. I might come back, but you won’t.”

“I’d rather live one lifetime than exist for a thousand.”

Ted paused. How much of his life had he spent living, and how much focused on the future? “That doesn’t sound like a wood elven saying.”

Cara laughed and crossed her legs again. “Orcish, actually. Now, sleep. I’ll wake you soon enough.”