What stood before me, trapped within the massive mirror, was an absolute monstrosity. It was a three-meter-tall skeletal figure with coiling black horns and a thick layer of dried, pink flesh covering every bone on its body. Empty eye sockets gazed into my own, and… I did not need proof of what I was seeing. I knew that it was true. And the most terrible, horrifying part of it was—

“How do you feel?” she asked me, still holding one finger on my form.

I hesitated for a long moment as I looked down at my bony hands. “Good,” I admitted. “I feel comfortable. I feel… right.”

“Well, there you have it.” She lifted her finger, and I immediately returned to my human form, and with the transformation, what humanity I had left returned to me.

Instantly, I raised my hand as I felt the urge to throw up. But there was nothing for me to puke. And, if I was being entirely honest with myself… there was no actual need to vomit. “What… What the hell was that!?” I asked, tears appearing at the corners of my eyes. “This can’t be happening…”

“I’d love to let you come to terms with what you’ve seen, but unfortunately, we don’t have much time left.”

As soon as she finished saying that, I felt a small chunk of flesh flake off my finger with a small burst of pain. “What the—” I screamed, feeling an invasive force seeping into my body. It felt almost identical to the pain I felt when testing [Resurrect].

“You’re like an ice sculpture in the middle of a desert. At this moment, your evil physique is surrounded by a sea of good energy, and it's starting to chip away at your body.”

“Can you stop this!?” I asked, fearing for my life.

“I don’t have to. As soon as you leave, you’ll heal before long. But we should hurry.” She appeared in front of me and tapped a finger to my forehead. “Accept it,” she said.

I felt a disgusting, horrible power trying to worm its way into my body.

Before I could ask what she was doing, she said, “If you don’t accept, you will die.”

Left without a choice and feeling like time was running out, I consented to the invasive force, despite every cell in my body protesting against it. A searing pain shot right into my soul.

You have acquired a blessing: [Divine Blessing of Voiya]

A few moments later, the pain vanished, suddenly replaced with an immense burst of power.

You have acquired a skill!

[Dark Affinity: F-rank]

Your affinity with darkness is at F-rank.

I dropped to my knees, exhausted by the influx of power and agony.

“I have added a moral compass to the blessing,” Voiya said. “You will feel a strong disgust toward thoughts of committing an evil deed. I am sorry that I have to do this to you. This will clash with your natural impulses; being put into temptation won’t be a pleasant experience, and you will have to fight against this constantly. But without it, you won’t last long against your urges.”

I slowly started to calm down. Despite her words, I was glad to have some form of reassurance that I wouldn’t inadvertently kill myself. That being said, I was still actively dying, but before I even had to rush her, she continued.

“I am going to send you close to a human settlement,” she said, snapping her finger.

Clothes appeared on my naked body in an instant, clothing me in what looked like the garb of a medieval townsman, albeit it looked closer to cosplay than a realistic set.

I felt grateful that I was being sent to where people were, but… I also felt disgusted. A chill ran down my spine when I realized where the feeling was coming from. I hadn’t even completed the thought, but I knew I wasn’t happy to see humans for a good reason.

Despair clawed at my heart. “Why?” I asked. “Why is this happening to me?” I clenched the woolen tunic near my chest and saw a piece of skin flake off my face and fall to the marble ground, where it evaporated. “I thought I could live my life anew. I thought I was being granted a second chance… but why should I even live? How should I live with what I’ve become?”

A hand fell on my back, petting me comfortingly. “You are going to know the right thing to do,” she said. “You have a purpose. You are to walk a path many among the good are too kind-hearted to step down.”

I looked up at her, daring to hope one more time. “And… what path is that?”

Her expression darkened. “Your body will let you sense those aligned with evil,” she said. “No matter what you do to them…” She left the last part unspoken.

I knew what she was aiming at. I felt a pang of excitement in my chest, followed by a burst of disgust. But the disgust didn’t come from the moral compass she granted me through the blessing. No. The disgust was coming from the waning morals I had built up throughout my life as a human being. The blessing remained entirely silent. “I see,” I said. “How convenient that that isn’t a sin,” I spat, feeling bitter and… scared.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Some acts cannot be forgiven,” she stated. “You will learn why soon enough. Either way, we don’t have much time left. If you have any questions, ask me now since I won’t be able to communicate with you once you leave.”

It took me a few seconds to clear my mind, but it was surprisingly easy to switch off the unpleasant feelings. “I want to know more about the system,” I asked immediately.

She frowned and raised an eyebrow. “The system?” she asked. “Explain.”

I was confused that she didn’t seem to know anything about it. So, I explained everything about the “system” I’ve been interacting with—the notifications, menu, classes, skills, titles, and so on.

“Ah, I see,” she said. “That’s just how you communicate with magic.”

“Uh… What?” I spluttered. “What do you mean?”

“Magic doesn’t work any different for you than it does for anyone else,” she explained. “That’s just how your mind interprets the information magic gives you. It’s an interesting structure, I have to say. Most people in this world have a ‘soul tome,’ basically, an invisible book where all they want to know is written, and that’s only for those who know how to read.”

That left me incredibly confused. Even if I ignored the fact that “the system” was just my personal interpretation of how magic works, it still seemed to follow video game logic, at least to a degree. The thing that I was most curious about was the classes. Or, rather, any possible restrictions surrounding them. Another chunk of flesh chipped off, this time sending a pang of agony up my back and giving me a sense of urgency.

So I explained my worries as quickly and eloquently as possible.

She raised an eyebrow. “First, can you tell me what the term ‘class’ means in your language?” she asked.

“In my language?” I asked. Wait, wasn’t it strange that everyone spoke in English here?

“The thing you called ‘titles,’ among them you should have one called [Otherworlder], correct?”

I nodded.

“That title automatically translates other languages. I am currently speaking in the Common Tongue, yet you hear the language you are familiar with.” She raised her hand and spoke again, but this time, the words sounded like total gibberish to me. I could understand her again when she put her hand back down. “Now tell me, what does the word ‘class’ mean to you?”

I froze for a long second. What angle should I approach this from? These were terms from video games or, more accurately, from video game-inspired fiction I used to read when I was younger. Did I have to explain what video games were to—

Another chip fell from my leg, followed by another falling off the back of my neck. Fuck it!

I hurried to explain the meaning of a [Class] from the perspective of a video game mechanic, and surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, given that she was a literal goddess, she didn’t seem to struggle with any of the ideas I presented.

“I see,” she said. “You seem to have a fundamental misunderstanding about magic.”

“And that is!?” I asked, wincing as a long crack appeared along my back.

“There is no greater force regulating anything regarding the powers you can obtain,” she stated. “You get as much power as you can earn. But your concerns about classes are valid. Simply put, the word ‘class’ in the Common Tongue roughly means ‘identity trial.’”

Another crack appeared along my face, and I groaned. “Please hurry! I’m in a bit of a rush!”

“Relax, you have another three minutes before things start getting dangerous.”

“It’s already pretty painful, though!” I retorted.

She shrugged. “Do you want me to send you off right away?”

I gritted my teeth. “No! Just… please hurry up!”

“Alright,” she agreed. “A class is a test. You are provided with the tools of an identity—you must prove you can wield them. If you take the trial of a [Swordsman], you must prove that you are a swordsman. If you take the trial of a [Master Blacksmith], you must forge a weapon worthy of the name.

“You worry that haphazardly taking miscellaneous classes will harm you, and perhaps you aren’t wrong. But if you accept a class you can’t complete… well… you will lose access to many valuable powers. Most cultures of the mortal planes believe that people should wholeheartedly focus on walking down a singular path. Indeed, that’s an excellent way to secure better class qualifications.

“But in my opinion, even a mage could use tougher skin, or better regeneration, or greater agility, or stealth. And even a craftsman could use a spell or two. My honest advice is to take any class you think you could pass with relative ease and to carefully consider more powerful ones. But you should take my words with a grain of salt—even gods disagree on the best approach.”

I screamed as a massive gash broke across my neck, bleeding profusely.

“It seems we are nearly out of time,” she said. “In any case, you don’t need to worry that you will somehow damage your long-term path with random classes.” Then, she bent down and placed a hand on my head. Then, she whispered in a low tone, “You are powerful enough as it is.”

And with that, I lost consciousness.

***

Voiya stood, staring off into the distance as the boy vanished. She heaved a heavy sigh as she sensed a presence appear behind her. “What do you want, Riel?” she asked the god of justice.

His white hair and the faux appearance of an aged human glimmered under the bright heavenly lights as he scoffed at her. “What do you think you’re doing with that abomination?” he asked.

“It isn’t our place to question heaven’s judgment,” she decreed.

“Spare me the nonsense,” he spat. “The judgment malfunctioned due to that boy’s unique circumstances. Do you honestly believe that’s a valid excuse to send that monster directly into a human settlement!?” he shouted the question. “Are you out of your mind, Voiya!?”

“Silence!” she screamed back, turning to face him. “I will not tolerate your insults!”

“Hmph! Crazy woman!” the man insulted. “Very well,” he spat. “Maybe you will finally realize the errors of embracing dark powers when you see that monstrosity annihilate a human settlement.” He turned around. “As punishment for your actions, I will be commanding the clergy to further cut funding to the dark church.”

“Do what you want,” she said.

“I will,” he growled. “There is no light at the end of your path if you continue in this direction,” he warned. “The tortured lambs can only be saved through purity and order. Not… compromise.” And with those words, he vanished.

She took a deep breath and turned back around, returning to staring into the distance.

Slowly, she put her arms together and uttered a prayer. “Oh, you poor soul,” she said, recalling the agony she saw in that boy’s eyes.

“I pray you perish before it claims you.”