The dream unfolded as a surreal and ethereal landscape, vibrant colors swirling and blending in a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of hues. John found himself floating weightlessly in this dreamlike world, his senses heightened and perceptions expanded to encompass the infinite vastness of the cosmos. He existed without a physical form, merely consciousness adrift in the endless reaches of eternity.
Before he could fully grasp his surroundings, an overwhelming sense of vertigo washed over him, as if he were hurtling through an infinite void. The dreamscape shifted and morphed around him, finally settling into the familiar alleyway that would likely be etched in his memory for the rest of his life.
His consciousness traveled towards the blue woman at one end of the alley, merging with her form. Unlike before, John became acutely aware of inhabiting a female body. He felt smaller, more fragile, more feminine - every sensation heightened and unfamiliar. The pungent smell of garbage from the alley assaulted his nostrils, more intense than he remembered.
Vivid visions of thugs beating Gareth flashed before him, each blow seeming to echo in the dreamscape. The memory of one thug offering a night of pleasure resurfaced, causing John's skin to crawl. Yet, he realized his dream self didn't react as expected - it was as if he were a mere passenger in his own body, observing but unable to control.
As John looked closer at the scene, he noticed subtle yet unsettling differences. The alleyway appeared both more expansive and more claustrophobic than in his memory. Shadows danced and flickered along the walls, moving in ways that defied natural laws. The very air seemed charged with an otherworldly energy.
This time, the thugs approached as a group, their menacing forms looming larger than life. As they closed in, John found themselves yearning, rooted to the spot. Their minds filled with a sudden and overwhelming sense of excitement for the fight. It was foreign to John yet intoxicating to them both. They knew they possessed the power to defend against these aggressors, a realization that sent a thrill of anticipation through their body.
John watched as the first thug lunged. They pulled their arm back and slammed their fist into the thug’s nose. Unlike before, their blood formed into a sharpened elongated spike, gleaming menacingly in the dim light. The spike pierced through the man's skull and out the back. They watched his body spasm as the hardened blood pierced his brain. When it emerged out the back of his head, bits of gray matter clung to it. The thug even managed to twitch a few times before going limp. The speed and viciousness of it made John feel a bit queasy.
Neither John nor Elena could help but feel a sickening sense of enjoyment at the sound of bone and cartilage shattering beneath their unyielding force. As they pulled their fist back, they observed the damage. The nasal cavity and surrounding bones were shattered. The wide spike had cut through what remained of the nasal cavity and pierced both eyes. The thug's eyes had liquefied on impact; if the spike hadn't killed him, he would have been permanently blind. His nose was mostly smashed meat. Only a few strands of cartilage kept what was left of the useless appendage attached to his face.
In the dream, the wounds they caused were far more grievous than in reality. Blood spurted out in movie quantities, spraying in all directions. It painted a gory portrait of violence and carnage. The scene seemed almost surreal in its grotesque intensity. As they continued to fight, John/Elena felt an unseen, primal force driving their actions. With each brutal impact inflicted upon their unfortunate adversaries, they couldn't help but feel as if they were somehow losing a part of themselves. This version of them seemed to revel in a violence that felt both foreign and disturbingly familiar.
"You know," they found themselves saying, "You picked a fight with Elena Vale." They knew they were about to say their name and tried not to, but couldn't stop. They called themselves Elena Vale. The thugs looked terrified.
In quick order, they caved in one thug's chest, while another died from a sword slash. Their dream perspective shifted to that of the man running for his life, and John saw his face in excruciating detail as he died. The blood drained out of him, and he became desiccated as he ran. John couldn't see what they had done to him, but from his perspective, it was gruesome and gnarly.
They saw themselves in the alley, looking like a dark red liquid shadow monster. The alley version of John & Elena dissolved into the encroaching darkness, their form blending with the shadows until it was indistinguishable from the gloom. As this happened, John experienced a disorienting shift in perspective. He felt the familiar sensation of being both present and absent in his own body, a passenger and pilot simultaneously.
The dreamscape morphed once again, reality bending and warping around him. Colors swirled and reformed, shapes twisted and reshaped themselves. The very fabric of the dream seemed to ripple and undulate, responding to John's tumultuous emotions and fractured sense of self.
As the world settled into its new configuration, John became aware of subtle yet significant differences. The air felt charged with an unfamiliar energy, tingling against his skin. Sounds seemed to come from impossible directions, echoing and reverberating in ways that defied physics.
His body, or rather the body he now inhabited, felt slightly different too. The sensations were altered, as if his nerve endings had been rewired. Every movement, every breath felt both familiar and foreign, creating a disconcerting disconnect between his actions and his perception of them. This time, John didn’t feel strong, or powerful. He felt regret.
Tears streamed down their face, each drop seeming to ripple the very fabric of the dream world as it hit the pavement. Their body felt impossibly heavy, weighed down by the magnitude of what had transpired.
"Why did it have to be this way?" they whispered, their voice a hoarse, broken rasp that barely carried beyond their lips. The question echoed through the dreamscape, reverberating off unseen walls and coming back to them distorted and unanswered. They lie kneeling in front of many dead bodies, Gareth’s included.
"Why?" they repeated, the single word carrying the weight of their conflicted emotions - the horror at the violence they had wrought, the confusion over their shifting identity, and the deep-seated fear of what they might be becoming.
The dream alley seemed to constrict around them, shadows lengthening and deepening as if in response to their anguish. John felt the distinct sensation of being torn between two selves - the person he thought he was and this new, unfamiliar entity capable of such devastating power.
As they knelt there, trembling and vulnerable, the dreamscape began to blur at the edges, reality and fantasy merging in a swirl of conflicting sensations and emotions. The experience left John/Elena grappling with profound questions about identity, morality, and the nature of their newfound abilities.
The alley changed a third time, now darker and more nightmarish. An innocent man lay lifeless nearby, his neck having been broken moments prior. They looked away from the dead man, the shame of being unable to save him, weighing their bodies to the point of not even caring. Why should a dead woman care what happens? They looked down at their broken body and wondered why they didn’t hurt anymore.
Two stab wounds in the lungs and several more in the stomach and arms had left them barely clinging to life. Blood pooled around them on the cold pavement. They wished they were dead like the lucky man was. Yet their body forced them to watch on in horror as it desperately clung to life fighting a loosing battle with death. They tried moving, but the cold of blood loss sapped most of their strength. In their last moments, they realized with horror that death would not be the end of their ordeal.
John's consciousness abruptly shifted, the horrific nightmare scene dissolving around him. A familiar, cheerful voice pierced through the void, causing him to instinctively turn towards its source.
"Hello, Elena."
There, bathed in a warm, radiant glow, sat Athena. Her form shimmered and flickered like a mirage, black hair cascading down her back, her elegant toga emanating an otherworldly grace and wisdom.
Her melodious voice continued, "Congratulations on choosing your name." The entity sounded genuinely pleased with John’s choice.
John's mind reeled from the abrupt transition. The nightmare's remnants clung to his psyche, and he felt once again trapped in that moment of terror and helplessness. His stomach churned violently, and only the absence of food prevented him from vomiting. It didn’t stop his body from trying however.
After what seemed like forever, he turned back to where he had been facing. To his surprise, the nightmarish alley had vanished. Instead, he found himself kneeling on a hardwood floor in a pristine, sparse office. A deep mahogany desk stood in the middle of the room, with Athena on a chair behind it. Two more chairs were on his side of the desk. The walls were bare, with only a single door breaking the monotony.
It took several minutes for John to regain his composure, struggling to calm his roiling stomach and wiping away tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hollow and lifeless to his own ears.
"Where am I?" The question echoed through the dreamscape office, carrying the weight of his recent traumatic experience. All emotion seemed to have drained from him, left behind with the horrors he'd just witnessed.
Athena smiled sadly, her eyes twinkling with a sorrowful glint. She looked at John and gave him a look that silently asked if he was alright. He took a moment and just breathed in and out. He eventually nodded and so did she.
She continued speaking. "You are in a place that exists between worlds. It's a realm of the subconscious where dreams and reality intertwine. Here, the vast power of the multiverse takes form and guides countless souls towards their deserved fate. You might also call it my office." She chuckled softly. "Not that I mind a visit... but how did you get here?" Her smile suggested that, while welcoming, she was a being dealing with countless souls and would appreciate a concise answer.
John nodded, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak, but no words came out. He closed her eyes for a few moments, just breathing. Athena raised an eyebrow, watching the wayward soul in front of her.
"I... I don't know," he finally said. He noticed Athena's perfectly plucked eyebrow rise further and quickly continued. "Honestly, so much has happened that I don't even know where to begin." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I was looking at a note I got, then I put my head down on the pillow. Suddenly, I was punching those goons again."
Athena nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"And I killed them, and felt great. But then I killed them again and felt bad about it. But then it turned out I didn't kill them - I died instead, and one of them..." He trailed off, putting his arm over his stomach, looking a bit nauseous.
He held up a hand, asking for a moment as he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. The weight of the nightmare visions still pressed heavily on his mind, making it difficult to articulate his experiences. John struggled to find the right words to explain the surreal and traumatic.
Athena's expression softened, her eyes filled with compassion as she regarded the troubled figure before her. "Elena," she said gently, her voice carrying a warmth that seemed to permeate the very air of the office, "I can see that you've been through a great deal. These visions, these experiences... they've clearly left their mark on you."
She leaned closer, her presence radiating a sense of calm and understanding. "If you'd like to talk about what you've seen, what you've felt, I'm here to listen. Sometimes, giving voice to our fears and traumas can help us begin to process them." Athena paused, studying Elena's face carefully. "But I want you to know that you're under no obligation. This is your journey, and you decide how to navigate it. Would you like to discuss what happened?"
John, still feeling the weight of his experiences as Elena, shook his head slowly. "No," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't think I can. Not right now. It's all too fresh, too raw." He looked up at Athena, gratitude mixing with the pain in his eyes. "Thank you for offering, but I think I need some time to sort through this on my own first."
"Look," John began, "I know you said I could ask questions before, and I'm sure you get this a lot, but why me? You said it was because someone cheated. But I thought you said folks can't remember their past life. I can. I wasn't a violent man, and I feel bad about hitting those guys in the alley. But at the time... I don't know. I almost enjoyed it. I kneed a guy in the nuts, and instead of sympathizing, I felt he deserved it."
He continued, his voice shaking, "And actually, I changed my mind. I do want to talk about it. What the hell was that last dream? I was stabbed so many times and couldn't fight back..." He trailed off, taking another moment to compose himself. Athena sat there with a sad smile on her face.
The more John spoke, the faster the words poured out. "And that's not even getting into all my questions about classes, stats, and what they do. I tried to help Gareth, who seems like a good guy, but instead of being glad, everyone looked ready to worship or kill me. Then there's the business with tiers and blood powers, and why it felt right to speak those words..."
Athena listened patiently as John poured out his confusion and fears. Her expression remained compassionate, even as John's words tumbled out faster and more frantically.
When John finally paused, Athena's lips curved into a knowing smile. She spoke slowly and deliberately, her voice compelling John to listen. "This world is one of infinite possibilities and boundless wonders. What happened to you just now has occurred in countless other realities. In some, you were the one lying on the pavement. In others, all of you were. In some, you walked past. In others, you embraced death for all present save for yourself. In some you talked your way out. And in others terrible things that no soul should ever experience. Your world teems with magic and mystery, where the laws of physics don't always apply as you'd expect. But as to what will happen, that depends entirely on you and your choices."
She looked at John for a moment before continuing, "You seem confused and have many questions. Why don't you ask one, and I'll answer it?"
John took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. The myriad of questions swirling in his mind made it difficult to choose just one. He pondered over the nature of his transformation, the strange new world he found himself in, and the disturbing visions he had experienced.
Finally, he settled on a question that had been nagging at him since his arrival in this world. "Alright," John said, his voice steadier now. "You mentioned that someone cheated, and that's why I'm here. But you also said people can't usually remember their past lives. So why can I remember mine? And how does that relate to the cheating you mentioned?"
John watched Athena carefully, hoping her answer might provide some clarity to his confusing situation. He felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension, unsure of whether he was ready for the truth, but knowing he needed to understand.
Athena's expression softened as she reached out, her hand pressing against John's ethereal form. "As I said before, you were brought here because someone cheated. You were also brought here because you possess the innate potential to rise above the ordinary and become a force for change in this world." She oddly emphasized the "also" part.
She breathed in, her eyes brimming with boundless compassion. "The reason why you remember your past is because you need to. Not every part, mind you, but you need to remember so it can help you grow strong. To know what you are striving for. I am sorry that this knowledge drives you to madness, but I have to hope that you consider it more of a gift than a curse. But you can always ask for us to remove this knowledge from you."
She continued, her voice gentle yet firm, "As to your other question: In your previous life, you were slated to have a very full life and do many great things. But it was snuffed out. To determine what happened and how, you'll need to become strong. I can't say more."
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John opened his mouth to question her further, but Athena held up a finger to shush him, inviting no debate. The finality in her gesture made it clear that some answers would have to wait, leaving John to ponder the weight of her words and the implications for his journey ahead.
John, trying to sound more assured, asked his next question, "Why did I end up... here?"
"That is what I asked you," Athena responded a bit confused, but John shook his head. "No, I meant wherever I fell asleep," he clarified.
"Because..." Athena looked confused for a moment. She picked up her tablet and scrolled through it. "Ah! It's because you chose this world."
"Stupid random button," John muttered, crossing his arms.
"No," she said softly, but firmly.
"No?" he asked.
"No. I mean, yes, your class was random, your race was random, and... well... several other things." She gestured at his body. "And you'll never be created in a world where your race can't exist in the local environment. But subconsciously? You guided your new body here. As I said, you chose this."
John looked dumbfounded, mulling over Athena's words. His mind raced as he tried to grasp the full implications of this new information. Athena didn't elaborate.
"But who am I in this world?" John asked, his voice quivering slightly.
Athena's gaze grew distant and pensive, as though she were looking into some unseen, fathomless expanse. "That, my dear friend, is a question only you can answer. Your world can certainly impact who you are, but it's your own actions and choices that will ultimately define your identity and place within this new world."
"Athena, can you explain more about proficiencies and tiers? Why wasn't this visible on Earth?" John asked, his curiosity piqued.
Athena's eyes sparkled with ancient wisdom as she replied, "Oh, but it was. However, most beings across the multiverse can't perceive their own abilities directly. They observe the effects on their bodies and possess an intuitive sense of their capabilities. Some worlds resonate with more potent magical energies than others. Your ability to see your status so clearly is quite rare." She paused, drawing a deep breath before continuing.
"Tiers are a different matter entirely. While I can't divulge too much, know this: the higher your tier, the more formidable you become. To illustrate, picture a level one Adept as roughly a hundred times more powerful than a level one Initiate. You, in turn, would be about a hundred times mightier than those in tiers below you. Higher tiers also unlock greater potential for achievement."
Athena's gaze intensified as she elaborated, "This means an Expert in their field could theoretically match the strength of a hundred Adepts. An Adept, similarly, might equal a hundred Initiates in power. But don't lose heart - if you were to face an Adept, survival is possible, especially if they're weakened or your abilities prove particularly effective against them."
She paused, ensuring John grasped the concept before proceeding. "Remember, this doesn't guarantee their superiority over you. It merely indicates their greater potential. While an average Adept typically overcomes an average Initiate, the most accomplished Initiate could certainly triumph over the least skilled Adept. History brims with tales of Initiates besting Adepts in combat."
Athena continued, her voice resonating with cosmic knowledge, "The tiers you should familiarize yourself with are Novices, Initiates, Apprentices, Adepts, Experts, Masters, Grandmasters and more. Neophytes stand on the threshold of ascending to the next tier. Other, more enigmatic tiers exist, but these are the ones commonly recognized on your world."
"Current world?" John interjected. "Does that imply other planets harbor even mightier beings?"
Athena's expression became inscrutable. "I'm bound by certain restrictions, John. I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of more powerful entities elsewhere. Nor can I clarify whether my phrasing was intentionally ambiguous."
After a moment of contemplation, John asked, "What is this planet called, then?"
"Hesperon," Athena replied casually. She paused, her eyes distant for a moment as if recalling something. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she refocused on John.
"You know, it's fascinating how each world develops its own unique characteristics and challenges. Hesperon is no exception. Its history, its people, its very essence - all of these factors will shape your journey in ways you can't yet imagine." Athena's voice took on a thoughtful tone. "I've seen countless individuals embark on paths similar to yours, each facing their own trials and triumphs. Your story, Elena, is just beginning to unfold."
She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intensifying. "Which brings me to my next point. Due to my agreement, I can't say much about your future. But here's what I can tell you..."
Due to my agreement, I can't say much about your future. But here's what I can tell you. Soon, you'll meet people who can help you on your journey. Listen to them. They'll need you as much as you'll need them. They'll guide and help you, leading you where you need to be. Understand, you're advanced for your age, but young on your journey. You have many heights to reach, and the mountain... is... tall."
John's brow furrowed as he looked at Athena. He opened his mouth, then closed it, dark thoughts racing through his mind. He tried again but couldn't speak. Tears welled in his eyes. After a moment, Athena shook her head. Her voice was soft, gentle. "You won't like the answer."
John wasn't sure if Athena could read minds or just faces, but she knew his unspoken question. He sat in a chair before her desk. Athena perched on the edge.
"So I can never go back and see them?" John asked meekly, memories of his family blurring his vision. Athena remained silent. John feared he'd have to repeat himself.
Athena placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Unfortunately, John will never return to Earth." She raised her other hand as John's mouth opened silently. It felt like she'd squeezed his heart to stillness. John sought escape in the office, doubting anything could revive him except learning this was all a joke.
His thoughts spiraled: 'I'll die unknown... My kids, fatherless... Never see my wife... Life's not worth living... I don't deserve... If I'll never see them, I might as well-'
"John Stop." Whether it was his name or Athena's power, he froze, attention locked on her.
Athena ensured she had his full focus. "John will never return to Earth. But Elena might." She poked Elena's chest. "John is dead; we can't change that. But Elena lives." Another poke. She met his eyes. "Understand? John is gone. Elena is here." A third poke. She held his gaze a moment longer.
"You are Elena, not John. This is your chosen name. You must understand this."
John paused, frustration evident in his voice. "Ok, fine. John isn't going back. Does that mean I can?"
"Your old world doesn't have tieflings," Athena stated matter-of-factly. "And while you might... Might-"
John started to speak, but Athena raised a finger, silencing him. "Elena, you need to listen to me. I'll repeat: While you might get a chance to see your family, you'd likely end up in government custody. Even if not, religious fanatics would see you as demonic. And even if you avoided all that, your body and mind would be Elena's. And your family doesn't know Elena." She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "So, I'm sorry, but no. Not right now."
John looked dejected, like a child denied candy.
Athena spoke more somberly. "I know you might not believe me, Elena, but I mean it. Seeing them before you're ready would be disastrous for everyone. You're mentally strong, but emotionally, this would break you. It would break anyone."
Athena lifted John's chin, meeting his gaze, then let go. She poked his chest gently. "Elena, listen to me. You're not heartless or cruel. Only a truly cruel person or a psychopath would be fine seeing their loved ones treat them as a stranger. You're not that person. You're good, and you care deeply. That's why this would hurt so much." A tear appeared in her eye as she continued, "Anyone with a heart would break seeing their family look at them like a stranger, or worse, as a villain. And you, Elena, have a big heart. That's what makes you who you are."
John knew he needed to hear this, despite not wanting to. It was a painful truth, but it also gave him hope that he'd see his family again someday. 'Before you're ready' differed greatly from 'never'. John wiped away a tear. Athena did the same.
John cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "Can you at least tell me how they're doing?"
Athena's expression softened, but her eyes held a cautious look. "Are you sure you want to know?" Her tone suggested the weight of the information she held.
John paused, conflict evident on his face. He looked down at his hands, then back up at Athena. "Should I know? Do I want to? I... I don't know." He sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. "Look... I really want to know, but I'm not sure if I can handle it. What if it's bad news?" He ran a hand through his hair, then seemed to steel himself. "Just tell me. Are they okay?" His eyes flicked anxiously between the floor and Athena's face, searching for any hint of the answer.
"Yes," Athena replied gently, her voice soft and reassuring. "And they will be." She carefully measured her words, clearly trying not to crush the fragile hope John clung to.
John exhaled sharply, unaware he'd been holding his breath. Relief washed over his features, but it quickly gave way to a tempest of emotions. Athena's words, intended to soothe, instead unleashed a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and feelings.
'They're okay...' John's mind raced, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. 'I want them to know I'm alive, that I'm fighting to return. But what if remembering me ruins their lives? God, what if my wife moves on?' He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. 'No, I can't think like that. I have to fight, I have to find a way back. And whatever force separated us... it will pay. It will suffer for what it's done to us.'
As John grappled with his internal turmoil, Athena rose and moved behind her desk. Her demeanor shifted noticeably, transforming from personal and empathetic to more professional and detached. It was as if she was steeling herself for the next phase of their conversation. "Now, Elena..." she began, her tone businesslike.
Suddenly, a frantic thought pierced through John's emotional whirlwind. "Wait!" he blurted out, his voice laced with desperation. "Can I ask one more thing?" He hoped fervently that it wasn't too late for additional questions.
Athena paused, then nodded. "Certainly," she replied, her tone measured. "But I make no promises on the answer." Her words carried a subtle warning, hinting that certain topics might be off-limits.
John hesitated, gathering his courage. He hoped this query wouldn't cross any forbidden boundaries. "You said my body would be Elena's," he started slowly, carefully choosing his words. "But you also said my mind would be too. Is... is something going to happen to my mind? Am I going to forget who I am?"
Athena sighed deeply, her penetrating gaze fixed on John. He sensed that their conversation had ventured into territory more delicate than she typically navigated. Her demeanor shifted, resembling an introvert at a party that had long overstayed its welcome.
Her face contorted, betraying discomfort with what she was about to divulge. "Over time? Yes, your mind will adapt to your new body," she began hesitantly. "Things you once considered essential will become obsolete. Take sleep, for instance. With enough power, you'll find it unnecessary. Food? You might indulge for pleasure, but not out of need. And drink? It will barely affect you."
Without pausing, she pressed on, her voice gaining momentum. "Novices eventually notice these changes. As you ascend tiers, your mortality diminishes. By your fourth millennium - if you reach it - the concerns of those living mere centuries will seem as foreign to you as this office does now." Her eyes met John's, conveying the gravity of her words. "For companionship, I advise seeking out those of your own tier. They'll understand your experiences in ways others simply can't."
"But," John interjected, his voice tinged with desperation, "you said my mind would become Elena's. Will I... will I forget my family?"
Athena leaned forward, resting on her elbows. "No, John. I said you are Elena. This is the reality you live. As for remembering, that's up to you. Who can predict how you'll feel years from now, or who you'll meet?" She cupped her chin thoughtfully. "Let me pose a question: Imagine, years hence, you find a new love, start a new family. You love him very deeply and would give the world for him. You start a family and from your body you have 2 children of your own. Would you want your spouse to meet your new partner? Your children to meet their half-siblings? Or picture returning after a century, your children on Earth are aged and dying having lived a full life. Would you appear, perhaps with new offspring, and attempt to explain everything?"
She leaned back, her chair creaking softly. Her eyes searched the ceiling as if seeking the right words. "Moreover, don't underestimate this world's power to change you. We hope for the better, but there's no guarantee." Her gaze returned to John, piercing and intense. "Could you face your family if most here viewed you as a murderer? What if, a decade from now, you've been compelled to end thousands of lives - men, women, children alike? Would you want your children to meet that version of you?"
John sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling. The prospect of becoming someone - or something - so fundamentally different from his current self was almost incomprehensible. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, unable to articulate a response to such profound and disturbing possibilities. Athena observed him, her expression a blend of sympathy and resolve. She understood the harshness of these truths, but recognized their necessity. The silence stretched between them, pregnant with unspoken implications and unanswerable questions.
Athena leaned forward again, her expression serious. "I can't tell you what to do, but consider this: your lifespan has drastically changed. Even without effort, you'll likely live to 150 before reaching old age. With hard work and body evolution, four centuries are easily within reach. And that's just considering tiers. As a Tiefling, you'll live three to five times longer. Your lifespan now rivals that of an elf."
John’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting back and forth as she struggled to process this information. Athena continued, "Yes, your great-great-grandchildren would see you as a young woman even as they die of old age. This is why I suggest finding companionship among your tier. And preferably with those of similar lifespans. Becoming attached to someone who lives 50 years will be quite painful when you’ve outlived them tenfold."
Her demeanor shifted back to businesslike. "Now, I want to offer some help. There's not much I can do, but there are a few things. There are rules now that you're in your body. First, you have five favors owed to you. We can explain things, which is partly why you have the system interface."
"Wait," John interjected, shocked. "Why tell me this now? Shouldn't I have—"
Athena cut him off sharply. "Oh, I'm sorry, was the middle of my sentence interrupting the beginning of yours? Elena, listen. What I'm about to say, if I'm not rudely interrupted again, is important." She fixed John with a stern look, daring him to speak out of turn.
John folded his arms, frowning. "You don't have to be a smartass about it," he mumbled.
"Yes, I do, Elena. Now, where was I?" Athena turned to her tablet, typing. John felt his face flush, wondering, 'Does my face turn purple or red?' Athena continued tapping, speaking in what sounded like a strange language to John.
"Ah yes," she resumed. "Five favors. You can call them in at anytime, but you only get five in your existence. They don't reset if you die and return. They can be big or small. Want a Big Mac? We'll get it, but that's one favor gone. Remember, there are things we won't do, no matter what."
John interrupted again, his tone light despite Athena's seriousness. "Let me guess. You can't kill anyone, can't make people fall in love, and can't bring back the dead?" He snickered at his own joke, a hint of his old self shining through the confusion and stress of his new reality. Athena remained unamused, her expression a mix of exasperation and patience. John mentally chided himself, 'I've got to keep my big mouth shut. This isn't the time for jokes.'
Athena raised an eyebrow, her fingers extending one by one as she counted off her points. "First, I'm not a genie confined to an 'itty bitty living space.' This isn't some fairy tale, Elena. Second, those three tasks you mentioned are actually quite simple in the grand scheme of things. Third, do you really want to use cosmic power to force something as personal and meaningful as love? Put in the effort yourself. It'll mean more that way. Lastly, the limitations on these favors relate to scale or to yourself. I won't unmake universes to satisfy megalomaniacal whims. Similarly, I can't directly change you. Advancing from Initiate to Adept? That's on you, through hard work and perseverance."
John's jaw dropped, his mind reeling from the casual mention of such vast power. "Wait. Unmake universes? Just how powerful are-" He couldn't even finish the question, the implications too enormous to fully grasp.
Athena reached out and touched his forehead gently. Instantly, the budding headache that had been forming dissipated, replaced by a soothing coolness. "Very," she said simply, her tone suggesting that this was an understatement of cosmic proportions.
With that cryptic response, Athena began to fade into the swirling colors of the dreamscape. Her form grew increasingly indistinct, like a painting being washed away by gentle rain.
"Damn it, you're waking up," she said urgently, her voice tinged with frustration and concern. "I need you to trust me and ask for a favor. Quickly now, you don't have much time."
Confused but instinctively trusting the only being who had shown him kindness and understanding in this strange new world, John responded without hesitation. "Athena, I need a favor."
She swiped her tablet with swift, practiced motions. "Absolutely. We're activating a new aspect of your sheet - think of it as a quest log. It will guide you through the challenges ahead. You have 4 favors left." Her voice grew distant, as if she were moving rapidly away despite her image remaining in place.
As John mentally replayed the whirlwind conversation, a sudden realization struck him. This being, this cosmic entity, had referred to him as a friend. In all the chaos and confusion, this simple gesture of kindness stood out starkly. "Athena... Dear friend?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder and a touch of hope.
Athena's smile returned, warm and genuine. Her demeanor shifted once more, reverting to the gentle, caring presence John had first encountered. As she continued to fade, she looked both sad and happy, like a parent watching a child take their first steps into the world. "Yes," she replied, reaching out as if to touch his face one last time. "One day, dear friend, we'll have a longer chat and laugh about your adventures. You'll have so many stories to tell."
John felt Athena's touch linger on his cheek, a comforting warmth that remained even as her image vanished entirely. Through the encroaching darkness of his returning consciousness, her final words reached him, a beacon of hope and reassurance:
"Be safe, my friend. I'll see you soon. Remember, you're stronger than you know, and you're never truly alone. Trust in yourself, Elena. The path ahead is challenging, but I believe in you."