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The Freelancer's Testament
PROLOGUE [PART TWO]

PROLOGUE [PART TWO]

PROLOGUE [PART TWO]

The 'Real' World

202X

“A god?”

Her smile faded, held only for that singular delivery. “For lack of better term. And as a god, you will shape the world and guide it, in your own way. We will not influence you on how you are to influence it or what role you will play. We believe that offering you the power is enough. Your sole purpose will be to inhabit this world as a deity.”

“Me and the other interviewees,” I asked absentmindedly.

“We have no further information for you aside from that. What being a god entails, you will need to learn and decide for on your own.”

“I - uh - What’s the catch?”

She blinked deeply, and I wondered if there was any part of her that felt nervous about what she would say next.

“This goes back to my first point. The technology we’ve developed is of a permanent nature. In transferring you into this world, we will be separating you from your body. You will not be able to return. Ever. And without exception. Not only is it technologically impossible, at the moment, but we will never attempt to make it technologically possible. You will have nothing to return to. We will be incinerating your corpse in the aftermath of the process. Whatever remains of you will be within the world we created. We can assure you that this world will be, within reason, safe from any unforeseen events, financial or otherwise, that might cause its destruction. We take that responsibility above all else.” She did not note that this was an easy promise to make given no one would be in a position to do anything about it if she lied. “Everything from your present life will be left behind you, only as memories and the entry point of what you are in that world. The rest of you will be shaped by this universe. As far as financial compensation goes, your family will be adequately rewarded. I believe that this amount should do?”

She passed over a stapled array of papers: a contract. My eyes scanned for the circled number, even as I wondered whether any one amount would justify what she’d just asked me.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Once you’ve decided, you may sign on the dotted line, and we will begin the process.”

I resented her confidence that I would sign. The offer was absurd. It’d be insane to trust a corporation to live up to it’s end of the deal. It would be tantamount to making a deal with a devil, or a careless wish with a genie. Should I put my faith in some of the formality of this process. The NDAs? The contracts? How much of what they’re saying is even true? How often have similar such duplicitous horror stories made the rounds? Would I add myself to the list of gullible idiots who fell for it?

But even as wisdom sought to prevail, to stop me from doing something I can’t come back from, I knew I’d sign it anyways. I’m stubborn. I hated that they thought my signing was just a matter of time. An expectation. But stubborn enough to say no?

How careless is it to throw away my life, even if it’s for an alternative? To abandon my family, my friends, my cat? They’ll be taken care of, if she’s telling the truth, but there’s no way I’ll ever know if she is. Am I not renouncing the right, or more accurately, deserting the responsibility to take care of my loved ones by choosing to move forward with this? Whatever I may think of myself, grief is hard to predict, and what losing me might do… well, thinking about how others might get hurt is a powerful motivator to stay alive, isn’t it?

Though, brushing aside what others will feel about it, what about myself? Once past the guilt of abandoning the people that love me, am I willing to give up their presence in my life? It disgusts me to say it, but I won’t lie to myself, I am. Being alive can be… so miserable. And this world can be utterly disappointing. So, is it simply getting a second chance at life that pulls me closer, or is it the chance to be a… god, that appeals? There’s no point in thinking about all the people who’d refuse the chance at being a god, for whatever reason, if she is saying the truth and not simply trying to manipulate me, then I was chosen for a reason. Because I’m one of the people broken or self-important enough to be willing to take on the mantle of a god. As far as getting a second life goes, I love the people around me, but it is true that I’d be willing to give them all up to do different, better, to not have to worry about the ties that once bound me. Though, I know myself well enough that I have a tendency towards pity, and sympathy, born perhaps out of kindness but surely out of cowardice too. It’s easier to be nice to people, than to deal with the consequences of hurting them. How long would it take before I found myself bound by new ties in that world. And how much more taxing would those ties be when their bound by the element of godhood? Perhaps if I carry on my efforts at being antisocial, it’ll genuinely work in this new world.

“You have questions?” she asks.

“I do.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to answer any of them. All the information that’s been provided to you is the only information you will be able to go on. You may choose to reject this offer and leave this room, but the moment you choose to reject it, we will cut all ties with you.”

I scoff in disbelief but she’s unaffected by my reaction.