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The strangers' room

The strangers' room

What pulled my attention when I woke up was the soft brown linen that draped the lower half of my body. It dawned on me I was not on the chair of a restaurant but on an aggressively soft mattress. Then, there was the smell of roasted kola-nuts that cut through the room. The stranger in Khakis emerged from his kitchen. This time he wore a long silk robe with moving patterns on it. “Hey, you’re awake”, He said. “I was worried for a moment there. I noticed you weren’t looking too good but then you passed out. Your head just kinda fell on the table. I’m honestly surprised nothing’s broken”. I told him I never heard his name and he told me what it was “Lanre”. Nothing before or after. “Anything else, other than your first name” I asked, and it prompted a smile on his face “why don’t you tell me your name” he said. I told him I didn’t have a name, because I was already dead. “Hmm, I suppose that makes sense”, he said “what do you want me to call you”, “you can call me whatever you want”. “Okay, I’ll call you friend”.

”That’s okay with me” I said.

The green barrier that confined the parameters of the bed I laid on certainly caught my eyes, there was also the pair of little silver robots flying about. “What’s all this?” I asked. As a vague kind of irritability whose origin I couldn't figure tempered inside of me . However, I would admit the softness of the bed and smooth silk blanket pulled heavy in lightning my mood. “It’s a sanitation zone,” he said. The robots that danced around the room scuttled over to Lanre and perched themselves on his knees. Lanre stared at their screens for a while then looked at me “It was just a suspicion, but i guess i was correct” he said, “wait what is the robot saying” I asked with slight worry.

“When you first got here, Did you have any stomach troubles?”. I wrapped my arms around my belly, the feeling as I remembered it, had mostly been in my head but I did have the keen forethought that I was going to shit myself “I guess, I remember feeling pretty queasy. My head really hurt though”, “that makes sense” he said “according to X-Olu here ‘he nudged the little robot’ your brain signals reacts very poorly with external stimuli, you know what that means” he asked “I’m afraid, i don’t?”, “It means you had a pretty bad case of motion sickness. If, as you say, you came from another world. This is more likely a side effect. It should have been predictable. The problem is, your physiology doesn’t respond very well to any external stimuli. And I mean any. If I waved a spoon really fast in your face, you’d probably pass out”, ''I’m sorry you kinda lost me” I said. “It means your body cannot perceive anything outside of it, in this world at least, the easiest way i can explain it is like being on a turbulent ship”, “that’s just great, I isekai into another world and instead of being op, the world just decided to not vibe with me”

“I’m sorry, you what?”,

“I Isekai’d”,

“the hell is that”

“it’s a popular genre of fiction where I’m from. Typically some normal person who’s fed up with life is transported to another world where they’re suddenly maxed out with powers. They fix everything in that world and people love them. And they have harems. People fall over them. That is isekai”

“And this genre of fiction where mediocre people are transported to another world and things suddenly fall into place for them, this... this is popular in your world?”, “You got it” I said. A look of pity stretched across his face and he said “that...that’s tough”, “huh?”, “So now that you’ve ‘isekai’ into this world. Do you feel like you have maxed out powers?” “Well no, i’ve only been here a few hours and i’ve only felt sick”, “Do you have a harem” he asked “that guy earlier seemed pretty obsessed with me. That’s a start” I replied in an upbeat manner“that’s true, that’s true. Okay. Is there anything you could fix here” he asked, his words descended into an effortless echo and that sly arrogant smile had returned to the precipice of his lips.

The question nudged at me like a head tilt from the chin. Clearer in my eyes was Lanre, a stranger who was adorned in a finely spun, and gaudily decorated garment, who sat himself right in front of a vintage decal with printed sharks swimming about. Three orbs of light cast a warm glow over the room and you could see the two little robots. One in Lanre’s embrace and the other, suspended in the air, disseminating a green glow, Lanre said the robot was what was making the sanitation zone. In the corner of the room, a light projector displayed the holographic feed of a man playing an instrument. The hologram was so vivid yet it’s presence so soft that one would think there was actually someone there. Downcast in the corner of a room playing for a special guest. I looked outside. I looked at the flying cars and the sky piercing towers and I got my answer handed to me by the sheer pressure of this fanciful reality “no, I don’t think there’s anything for me to fix here” I conceded.

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There was a hint of sadness to my answer that I hoped he hadn’t noticed. The thought that in this new world I would be even more mediocre certainly shook me a little. And despite his hospitality my feelings about Lanre were starting to sour. I wondered what his deal was. Why was he helping me? But more than that, I just wanted to move on from this strained conversation. “Pretty handy robots you got here” I said pointing particularly at the robot suspended above, “they use fragments too?”,

“Yeah, but a different kind” he said “there are three kinds of fragments utilized in this world, we’ve got the indexed fragments. These are collective pools of knowledge and they vary depending on the god they’re connected to. It’s mostly utilized by AI like these little guys but some people use them. We’ve also got personal fragments. The one everyone’s born with. A personal fragment materializes itself in the form of ORI. Which is the manifestation of someone's will, spiritual path or destiny. For most people this manifestation is usually in the form of ethical conduct, religious doctrine, physiology or mental aptitude. For a certain few, for those who inherit a little more than fragments but pieces of the gods themselves. It manifests itself into ‘here Lanre stretched out his left arm, and suddenly a coat of metallic sheen covered all of it’ well this. It’s called Agbara(power)” he said.

“How do you inherit a fragment?” I asked, “you’re born with one” he said, “the god you’re connected to is as random as the parents you’re born with. You just live with it”

“And where are the gods?”.

“Somewhere between sleep and death. Deep in the ground”

“All of them?”, I asked. The childish smile re-appeared on his face “not all of them. When we fought with the gods three thousand years ago, there was only one missing. The trickster god. Eshu. No one has found him since.” He looked at me with curious eyes after saying that “there’s a prophecy that says he'd appear anytime. When we’d least expect and take vengeance for his fallen kin. This sort of thing keeps everyone in this world on edge. Well it used to at least. Now it’s just a few hard heads and the city of Owu''

“What about Owu?” I asked. I tried to hide the urgency in my question but the image of the solemn king burned into the back of your head makes you curious “they’re the only ones who refused this new world. Who don’t believe the gods are actually at bay” he said “they have fragments but they repress it. That’s all I can say about them for now, Ithink. They have their own system which they depend on. As with Ife”

“Anyway. Back to where we were. There is a third kind of fragment. The exclusive fragment. Or the archive. This one can only be operated by a chosen few. Remember how I said earlier that each personal fragment consists of an Ori. A spiritual path. Well the spiritual path of everyone who exists and has ever existed is recorded in this archive”, ''So you all have your destiny already written down in some book?”, “Something like that. But i would say, destiny is not something as rigid as you’re probably imagining it. It flows, merges and twists. Sometimes taking one to places they least expect. It’s our job to live up our spiritual paths. Do you have any more questions for me?”

“Yes. Why did you help me” I asked “I don’t know. Nothing in my spiritual path mentions anything about a stranger from another world. I guess I’m just curious, as to the kind of person you are”, “I don’t think I’m anyone remarkable” I said. “Oh I’m not too sure about that” he said with that same arrogant smile on his face “remember you were transported into this world. Things like that don’t happen without a reason”.

Shortly after our conversation, Lanre told me to get ready and get dressed. He said he wanted to take me somewhere. He said I had to excuse myself because the drugs he gave me were pretty powerful stuff. I didn’t know what he meant until I found myself hunched on his toilet seat, gripping my shoulders and head and the sink. Anything to keep me stable as I emptied my bowels. My muscles strained from the back down as I excreted everything inside and when it was finally done I found myself curling with relief on the floor of the bathroom as the hot water washed over my body.

After the shower I was drawn to the reflection in the mirror. Barely visible under the thick fog, I noticed I looked different. Better I thought. The body I was in certainly didn’t resemble the body I was used to but it all made no difference to me anyways. For as long as I could remember the concept of my physical body had always been somewhat unfamiliar. A new body didn’t mean anything. Lanre chose a set of clothes for me to wear. A simple purple suit. On the erect collar of the suit vest were a flotilla of question marks on display. How cheeky. I thought. The suit fit me well and I liked the way it felt on my skin. I found Lanre on the balcony. He had changed from his silk robes into a pair of khaki trousers. Leather boots and a golden vest. He looked my way and said “ah you look good enough for someone who was just shitting his guts”, “alright lay off”. I said, “Where are we headed, that we have to dress all fancy?” I asked. That same creepy smile appeared again “you may not believe it but today, this very day that you arrived, is the three thousand year anniversary of our liberation from the gods”. “Oh”. “Yeah so we’re gonna celebrate. I want you to have a little fun because the feds are gonna be coming for you pretty soon”

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