I wake up slowly to the world spinning. It feels like an eternity and a moment since I was last conscious. My gut is protesting against this unintended carnival ride and the space where my head should be pounds out a staccato rhythm. What even happened last night? I never get a hangover. Did I drink too much? Did I drink anything? Oww…

I roll over in bed and attempt to pull the blankets up to cocoon myself with an undignified grunt that makes no sound. I can never remember to close the curtains before I go to sleep, and the sun is being exceptionally annoying today.

But I can’t roll over. There’s no blankets with which to cover my aching head. No matter which way I turn, the light peels through my closed eyes like a shiny icepick. Did I kick the blankets off the bed again? Why am I not freezing?

I try to open my eyes, and for a brief moment confusion sets in as I find that I do not actually have eyelids.

Then comes the panic.

What the fuck! I try to scream, but no words leave the lips I do not have. I can’t feel my face! Ahhh shit fucking fuck I can’t feel anything!! I continue to look around, bizarrely without the aid of anything resembling eyes, or even a head or neck, and a slow realization dawns.

Am I…dead? Oh god I hope the cats are ok. I did remember to refill their auto-feeder and water fountain…it was yesterday, right? I definitely emptied the robo-litterbox. I take a moment to try and calm myself down, which strangely seems much easier than usual. Perhaps due to the absence of any sort of autonomic nervous system ramping up my panic response. Okay. So, big white glowing void, no body I can perceive, thoughts too clear to be a dream…what the fuck. I’m dead. Goddammit, I just got my depression under control. I found a new therapist and everything! And now I’m dead? I didn’t even get to do it myse– I forcefully stop the reflex to emotionally self-harm and try to chuckle—dark humor being the number one contributor to any sort of balance in my recent mental state—but yet again nothing audible breaks the eerie silence. I spend some time just floating in the void, perhaps an hour and perhaps an eon, my non-head headache slowly fading.

…I really hope my cats are okay.

NEVER FEAR, THEY SHALL BE WELL CARED FOR.

Holy fuck! The sudden burst of a deep, booming voice in the void startles me. I jerk my gaze around rapidly, trying to refocus on the source of the…was that a voice? There was no actual sound, yet I perceived it clearly. Everything remains a stark white nothingness. Somehow, even without eyes I’m able to direct my attention in various directions, but can’t find the source of the voice.

…Hello? I venture timidly into my own mind.

GREETINGS, MORTAL.

The non-sound of the voice is overwhelming in volume, terrifying in its intensity, blaring against my consciousness like the roar of a spectral jet engine. I feel like my hair should be whipping in the wind it creates, if I still had any hair or anything as mundane as ‘air’ existed in this space.

Uh, greetings yourself. I pause for a moment, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. Where am I? Who are you?

YOU HAVE PASSED ON FROM YOUR ORIGINAL LIFE, MORTAL. YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED HERE TO FULFILL YOUR NEW DESTINY. I AM A MESSENGER OF THE ONE TRUE GOD, HE WHO IS FATHER OF THE WORLD, –

What follows, I cannot properly describe. There is no noise, but the name carries the sound of a thousand-thousand trumpets. No change in the stark light around me, but a rainbow kaleidoscope of impossible colors subsumes my vision. Barely a moment passes, but I feel the age of countless lifetimes. The weight of a world presses down upon my mind, crushing me into welcome oblivion. I am an insignificant insect before an otherworldly existence beyond my ability to perceive, let alone comprehend, and just as suddenly it is gone.

– AND YOU MAY CALL ME THERAMIEL. REJOICE, MORTAL, FOR YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN.

My mind reels as I slowly get over the shock of being exposed even indirectly to the divine. I don’t think mere mortals were meant to hear the true names of gods. It takes several minutes to piece together the fragments of my psyche, and then the words of the messenger, Theramiel, hit home.

Wait, original life? Summoned? New destiny? Is this one of those isekai scenarios I definitely don’t spend too much time reading about online? I hesitate briefly before continuing. And is there a name that mortals call your god, by chance? The one you used kinda hurt, and I don’t think I could pronounce it if I tried.

The booming non-voice comes again, somehow louder and more overwhelming than before.

HE IS THE ONE TRUE GOD, MORTAL. HE IS NOT MINE. HE IS THE BEGINNING AND THE END. THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS. THE FATHER OF THE WORLD. KEEPER OF LIGHT. HERALD OF INFINITY. CARETAKER OF SOULS. BASTION OF ALL THAT IS WORTHY AND GOOD.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The voice pauses, then continues in its usual, yet still-too-loud tone.

…AND I HEAR THE MORTALS SOMETIMES REFER TO HIM AS ODAOS.

I float there for a moment, letting the force of Theramiel’s diatribe on the divine wash over me. At least being yelled at doesn’t shatter my mind like glass the way the name of a god apparently can. As I slowly recover, I’m about to request clarification on my other queries just as I get another response.

YOUR LIFE ON YOUR PREVIOUS WORLD HAS COME TO AN END, MORTAL. AN UNFORTUNATE BUT PAINLESS ACCIDENT IN YOUR SLEEP. YET YOU HAVE THE SOUL OF A HERO, ONE CHOSEN BY HE WHO COMMANDS DESTINY. IT IS YOUR DUTY TO DEFEAT EVIL, SAVE THE MORTAL REALMS, AND SUBSEQUENTLY BASK IN YOUR JUST REWARDS.

Oh, wow, another title that is Definitely Capitalized. How many does this Odaos guy have? I revert to sarcasm, my oldest and dearest defense mechanism, though I do my best not to ‘say’ that thought loud enough to be overheard. Theramiel seems a bit touchy on that topic and I’m not sure how far this whole mind-reading conversation goes. Best not to dwell on it.

Uh, Mister Theramiel, Sir, as much as I like reading isekai shi– uh, stuff, I’m not sure I’m the best person to actually live it. I pause, trying to put this delicately so I don’t get yelled at again. I’m not sure how much of my previous life you’ve seen but I’m most definitely not a warrior or hero or whatever. I’m just your normal depressed office drone with an anxiety disorder. I’ve never even been in a fight! I don’t think I’m meant for a life of defeating evil.

The silence stretches on just a bit too long to be comfortable. I get the feeling Theramiel is watching some kind of highlight reel while I wait, which is more than a bit embarrassing. I’m starting to think that this isn’t entirely normal; as far as dying and talking to the messenger of a god and having my psyche break apart from hearing a name all for the purpose of possibly getting reincarnated can be normal, that is.

…BE THAT AS IT MAY, YOUR SOUL IS ONE OF A HERO. IT IS YOUR DESTINY. NEVER FEAR, MORTAL. ALL HEROES ARE GRANTED BOONS TO AID IN THEIR QUEST. YOUR STRENGTH SHALL BE THAT OF TEN MEN, YOUR FEET AS SWIFT AS THE WIND, YOUR MIND SHARP AND YOUR GAZE PIERCING. YOUR ARCANE PROWESS, GIFTED TO YOU IN EXCESS OF OTHER MORTALS, SHALL BE THE DESPAIR OF EVIL SO THAT NONE SHALL IMPEDE YOUR JOURNEY. DO NOT FORSAKE YOUR DESTINY FOR FEAR OF WHAT IS TO COME, FOR THOSE STANDING WITH EVIL SHALL FEAR YOU IN TURN. COME, LEAVE YOUR PREVIOUS LIFE BEHIND AND EMBRACE YOUR NEW PATH.

Oh shit, cheat powers! That definitely makes this easier. I think I could actually do this if everything is as-advertised. And at least I won’t be going back to…well, anyway. I’d already resolved to turn over a new leaf, this just happens to be a bit newer than I expected. I wonder what kind of world I’ll get? Theramiel did say something about arcane powers!

Could I get some more info about this whole evil business? Earth has definitely had its share of truly evil regimes, but also a lot of crusades that brought violence to those that were just different and not bad, let alone capital-E Evil. And, ah, where exactly will I be going? What kind of worl–

My thoughts are cut off as images assault my mind once more, though more gently, at least at first. I’m shown sweeping vistas with dazzling sights, a bountiful world spread before me for the taking. Medieval-looking cities with impossibly grand architecture. People in flowing robes casting wild spells and knights in shining armor fighting slobbering beasts and cackling devils. Ancient ruins holding dark secrets and forgotten treasures. Fantastical creatures of wonder and magic. Then shifting darkness, and a palpable sense of burning hatred. Two glowing, red, serpentine eyes below sharp, deadly-looking horns. The flash of a sneer hiding needle-point teeth. Those eyes burn into my soul and dread suffuses my very being. Just as suddenly, the images vanish, and I feel like I’d be gasping for breath if I still could.

SELLENIA IS A WORLD OF WONDER AND MYSTERY BEYOND YOUR CURRENT UNDERSTANDING. IT IS A DOMAIN OF MAGIC, YET BESET BY DEMONS AND MONSTERS. IT IS YOUR SACRED DUTY TO DEFEND THE INNOCENT FROM THIS EVIL, AND TAKE THE FIGHT TO THE LORD OF BEASTS SO YOU MAY END THE THREAT TO ODAOS’ PEOPLE ONCE AND FOR ALL.

Beyond my understanding? Looks like your standard sword and sorcery world to me, they’re a dime a dozen—at least in fiction. I can definitely get behind a classic fantasy adventure story though. Fight monsters, kill demons, rescue the princess—maybe smooch a little if she’s interested—and live happily ever after and all that. I’m in!

Alright, I guess I can do that. I’d be smirking if I could. So, how does this work? Am I getting a new body? I don’t seem to have my old one anymore, and I was definitely not too fond of it anyway. I’d most assuredly be blushing at this next part if it was still possible, and I lower my gaze before continuing. Not that I was actually looking at Theramiel in any case, wherever he is. Could you, ah, make me hot– ahh! I mean, uh, beautiful, this time?

WORRY NOT, MORTAL. A NEW VESSEL SHALL BE CONSTRUCTED FOR YOU IN ORDER TO CONTAIN YOUR DIVINE BOONS. YOU SHALL BE BORN ANEW, STRIPPED OF THE CHAINS OF YOUR PAST LIFE, RAISED WITH CARE BY ODAOS’ SERVANTS, AND TRAINED FROM CHILDHOOD TO FULFILL YOUR DESTINY. YOUR VISAGE SHALL BE THE WONDER AND ENVY OF ALL; ANY WHO GAZE UPON YOU MOVED BY THE GLORY OF THE DIVINE APPARENT IN ITS CRAFTING.

Fuckin’ sweet, finally! Heck yeah Theramiel, let’s do this thing! That sounds– wait, that sounds like I’d be reincarnated without memories. That’s basically the same as dying! And I have absolutely no desire to relive childhood, even if puberty goes right this time.

Ah, hold on a moment, I don’t want to forget–

COME, MORTAL, YOUR DESTINY AWAITS.

No wait a sec! And what about my cats–

My thoughts are cut off as the white void fades to blackness, and my consciousness slips away.