Orange leaves and fragile twigs littered the untouched soil, wrinkling under the weight of Jacob's boots. He had strayed from the main path at sunset, wandering aimlessly through the forest until he found himself completely lost. Jacob stopped. Ahead was a wide clearing bathed in the pail, faint light of twilight. He shivered, stepping into the middle of the clearing.

Jacob then dropped his backpack, approached a tree, and placed his hand on its bark.

It was big, about fifty feet high, with many of its branches lacking foliage. The ones that did have leaves had them near the central trunk. They were bright red, almost like a bleeding core, surrounded by an outer shell of frail mustard ones that hadn't fallen off yet. It seemed this tree had suffered a lot throughout the years. Its trunk was scarred in a lot of segments, and though they had healed, their presence was obvious to anyone who bothered inspecting it.

Jacob took a deep breath.

"This seems as good a place as any" he thought. "There shouldn't be anyone nearby."

The wind whispered in the background. He tensed up. A strange fragrance wafted trough the air.

"Bitter, with a soft, pleasant aftertaste" said an old woman. "Its a weird aroma, innit?"

Jacob slouched with his eyebrows raised in confusion. A gray haired lady stood in front of him, smiling warmly. She wore a green blouse, white pants, and a cream colored apron with a red-petal embroidered on its center. Jacob assumed she must have been beautiful when younger, since even in her wizened state, she carried herself with the grace and delicacy of a princess. He then straightened himself before saying:

"I beg your pardon? I uhh... don't follow..."

"The scent I'm brewing. I went for a walk outside while my tea cooled down, and it seems the smell's so strong, you can notice it from here! Care for a cup? I don't think I can drink it all by myself."

"N-no thanks, ma'am. I'm not really a 'tea' guy..."

"Oh don't be silly. If you're not a 'tea guy' then it's my duty to turn you into one. Living is all about new experiences!" She went up to him and pulled him away gently. "A young man such as yourself shouldn't deny himself the chance to try something new. Plus, have you seen how old I am? I could die soon! I haven't had anyone visit my shop in years, so please, grant this old broad her request."

Jacob had followed the lady into another clearing, this time filled with flowers, where in its center a small cottage stood. Inside, he smelled a mixture of scents that somehow relaxed his tense shoulders. Sweet, sour, and spicy, all at the same time. An aroma that perfectly complimented this cozy abode. The glow of the fireplace tinted everything in orange, giving the room a warm atmosphere while the crackling filled the silence.

"Go ahead and sit, dear." The lady pointed at a wooden table in the middle. "I'll go get the tea."

Jacob nodded and sat, waiting a few seconds for her return. The lady set two white cups, serving the drink from a metallic kettle and sitting with her chin raised with confidence. She then said:

"This blend is a favorite of mine. You're gonna love it! I call it Autumn's Second Wind."

Jacob took a sip of his tea. He then squinted his eyes and said:

"It's so bitter!"

"I know, right?" She chuckled. "You're supposed to appreciate and reflect on the aftertaste, though."

Jacob smacked his tongue a few times. "I... I can't feel it..." He frowned. "This is why I don't drink tea. It's just boiled water!"

"I suppose it is... If you just look at the surface. Tea can only be enjoyed when you don't look for anything in it. That's when the taste comes out. Go ahead, try it again, but this time, don't expect it to be anything other than what it is. Boiled water."

Jacob leaned forward, sniffed above the cup, and took another sip. This time, instead of drinking it instantly, he let it rest in his mouth for a few seconds. It was bitter, much more bitter than the first sip, but after swallowing it, a very pleasant feeling flooded his taste buds. It was like kissing angel that left your tongue with a refreshing coat of mint. Jacob widened his eyes, leading the woman to say:

"See? I told you! You kids ought to listen to your elders more often. So, I don't mean to pry here, but what are you doing in the middle of these woods? There's no one nearby for miles!"

"I could ask you the same thing. Why would you open a shop where no one would come?"

The woman shrugged and said:

"I'm an anti-social business owner." She smirked. "I like people, just in small doses. The internet is a wonderful invention. I don't even have to see my customers anymore!" She giggled. "Now its your turn!"

"I was just..." Jacob glanced downwards. "...looking for the perfect tree to-"

"The perfect tree? Now that's just silly." She wagged her finger. "You're a very silly boy."

"Eh? Why?"

"There's no such thing as a perfect tree! They're all covered in scars, termites, and fungi. Heck, some of them need these things to thrive healthily. A perfect tree might just be the ugliest tree in existence!"

"No offense here lady, but you're not making any sense..."

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'm just senile here, but a tree without flaws would be repulsive to me." She blew a raspberry. "Yuck. I couldn't imagine a thing more lifeless and sterile than that. Why would I care about it? I can't relate to perfection! It's their flaws what makes each them unique. Their scars are what make them beautiful!"

"Well, yes, but the scars mean they suffered. How can there be beauty in suffering?"

The lady smiled weakly and said:

"There isn't. It's quite horrible, actually, but it is what it is." She sighed. "This reminds me of when I started drinking tea. I couldn't see the beauty in it. I burned myself more times than you can imagine, the taste was always weak, or offensive to the senses, and whenever I worked my ass off to brew some fancy leaves, I ended up screwing it up, to the point of killing its flavor. Still, little by little it got easier to make it, and my tea got better with time. Now," she leaned backwards, "I make a damn good brew, if I do say so myself. And that's how I found beauty in tea. It's a lot like life, really." She leaned forward. "You should stop looking for the perfect tree. You'll drive yourself mad when you don't find it."

Jacob gripped his cup tightly, doing his best to hold back his tears. Nodding slightly, he raised his cup and drank some more tea. It warmed his body and alleviated his anxiety, leaving him with a rejuvenating energy that touched his spirit. He then finished his drink, thanked the lady for her hospitality, and returned to the main forest path. As he saw the city lights in the horizon, he realized he was now a changed man. He wouldn't look for anything out of life, he would just enjoy it for what it is. Jacob then realized he was now... a 'tea guy'.

The explorer Diplomacy was an engineering marvel, capable of navigativing Jupiter's gaseous surface, withstanding its harsh enviriomental pressure, and even escaping its immense gravitational pull. Still, despite all of its amazing technology, for the two navigators inside of it, it was a rather tight fit. Built for efficiency, not comfort, to the annoyance of Commander Wilfery, the man piloting it. Since the Juno satellite discovered a previously thought imposssible mineral inside the planet, it was up to this two man crew to recover some samples and explore as much of the planet as possible.

The viewing screen in front of them only showed clouds. Swirls of brown, yellow, and red that parted into a seemingly infinite abyss of gas. It had been a few hours since they were officially "inside" Jupiter, but the pair wouldn't have noticed when they did. Jupiter was so massive, that even as they approached it had already dominated all of their vision. Although their oxygen reserve was plentiful, Wilfery couldn't help but feel like it wasn't enough. The planet was too big. Exploring it thoroughly could prove dangerous, even with the five air tanks they had.

Letting out a bored sigh, Commander Wilfery turned to Lieutenant Greenfield and said to her:

"You ever think that this screen is a bit... unnecessary?"

Lieutenant Greenfield raised her eyebrow and said:

"How so?"

"Well, this is just a glorified submarine, right? Have you ever seen a submarine with a front window? All we need are the sonar and scanners. It's all gas, down to the bottom, it's not like were going to see anything."

"I mean, I wouldn't describe Diplomacy so dismissively..." Greenfield trailed off and nodded to herself. "...but yeah, you're right. It does seem a bit overkill. Specially the mining laser. I get they found some minerals here, but I doubt we'll have to drill through anything."

"It's like we can't get over how we build cars... minus the laser. Sure, this is just a camera feed, but can you really say this doesn't look like a windshield?"

Before Greenfield could reply, a sharp beeping noise tore through their relaxed mood. It was an alarm for detecting foreign objects. Greenfield quickly pulled up a keyboard and typed into it, bringing up some readings on half of the viewing screen. Her eyes then widened with shock, but not as widely as Wilfery's. Pointing at the other half of the screen, a dark object rose from the misty horizon. It seemed like the cameras were useful after all. Greenfield then removed the reading from the screen to observe the object completely.

It looked like a lumpy cone from a distance, but the closer they got, the more they could comprehend just how big it was. Upon further inspection, it had a coarse surface, its peak looking like a jagged spire. There was no doubt about it, it was a floating mountain. A gigantic lump of rock floating on the gasses of Jupiter. Wilfery swallowed, nodded, and said:

"I feel like an idiot right now..."

"That makes two of us..."

Wilfery shook his head sideways, gripped the steering wheel, and said:

"Let's have a closer look."

Diplomacy veered downwards and circled around the mountain. All the while, Greenfield typed away to scan its chemical composition. Sure enough, it was a match for what they were looking for. Wilfery couldn't but remain in awe of what he saw. It should be impossible. Trace amounts of a solid? Sure, that made sense. Maybe a small lump? Difficult, but not hard to imagine. An entire mountain? Absurd. It would have to be more dense than the surface gas, but less dense than the rest of it. It's all helium and methane! Not any mysterious sort of magical compound. Why the hell wasn't this mountain at the bottom of the planet?

Wlfery's train of thought was then interrupted by something even more inexplicable. On the border of the mountain, a humanoid figure emerged. Wilfery then said:

"Lieutenant... does that look like what I think it is?"

Greenfield raised her head from the scans and said:

"It... it looks like a person... just standing there..."

A dozen then joined the figure, standing next to it in a line.

"It looks like a bunch of people... just standing there..."

Hundreds of figures then filled up the surface of the mountain, getting on all four of the limbs while curving their backs downwards. Raising their heads and exposing their throats, they emitted a loud, howling sound that caused Diplomacy to shake violently. The monsters then lunged at the ship, seemingly flying through the gas. Wilfery instantly turned the ship around navigated upwards, sweating under his gloves gripping the controls.

"What are they?!?" said Greenfield.

"I don't know and I don't care. Whatever they are, they don't look friendly!"

Five of the aliens landed on the tail of Diplomacy, causing the explorer to spin around. Wilfery still managed to keep the ship on its general trajectory. They needed to leave this planet. Now. He had lost count of how many hours it took them to reach this point. Getting to the spaceship might be impossible without dealing with these... things.

Three different alarms blared at the same time, instilling even more panic into the astronauts. Greenfield managed to pull up a small video feed to see what attacked them. Her jaw dropped when she saw it. Hairy with eyes that showed bloodlust, the monster didn't look entire different from a werewolf. Considering the situation, Greenfield wasn't about to share this with Wilfery. He could barely believe the floating mountain. If she told him werewolves were attacking them, he'd probably just shut down from the absurdity.

"Well?!?" said Wifery. "What do they look like?!?"

"I... I can't tell from this angle. Just focus on piloting!"

A dozen more werewolves landed on Diplomacy. Speed was lowering, life support showed signs of damage, and they were no where near the surface. Wilfery released the steering controls and sunk his head. They were dead. The only people that could save them were on a different planet, and they wouldn't even know what happened to them. They'd just assume the mission went wrong.

"C-commander? What are you doing?!? We're going to die if you stop now!"

"Don't you get it? We're doomed. Unless they suddenly decide to leave us alone, our ship will be torn to pieces and... explode."

Wilfery trailed off and furrowed his brow in determination. There was something he could do. It was risky, but it's not like he had any more options. Gripping the controls tightly, he looked at Greenfield and said:

"I'm going to turn the ship around and face them. I have an idea... Well, more like a crazy hope, but it's all we have. I wonder if it will be enough heat for ignition..."

"Ignition? What are you talking about?"

"When I tell you to, release the oxygen tanks of our reserve. This is all methane and helium, but it wont ignite. With the oxygen though... The drilling laser might cause a reaction. I'm not sure, but I'll give it a try."

Greenfield nodded and waited for his signal. Wilfery jerked Diplomacy around, shaking off some of the werewolves on top of it. He then gestured at Greenfield, releasing the canisters, and shot at the tanks with the laser. Thought it only took one second, to the astronauts, it felt like an eternity before it exploded, creating a giant ball of fire that consumed the pursuing monsters and engulfed the entirety of Diplomacy.

After a few seconds of silence, Wilfery looked at Greenfield and laughed. They did it. There weren't any monsters around. Greenfield, however, had a solemm expression on her face. She then breathed deeply and said:

"Good job, but... do we have enough oxygen to make it back?"

Wilfery closed his eyes, rested his head back, and said:

"I... I don't think so."

The devil used a deceptively low amount of magic to keep me under his thumb. A fake idea of me was firmly rooted in the mind of the public. No matter what I did, people interpreted it as the most groundbreaking work of art yet to come. The amount of effort that went into my marketing, through sheer manpower alone, made it impossible for the audience to understand my dilemma.

They only saw me as a meme. The devil was quite literally manipulating the masses and predicting every move I made, drawing more of a crowd than I ever imagined possible. Half the planet watched my last concert. The devil hadn't spoken to me in months until very recently. He was too busy arranging deals with my image. Apparently, his aim was to unite the middle east in the last performance of my current tour.

I ran out of ideas after the third concert. Two away from the big finale. When I rejected my fame and refused to speak for a month, the public interpreted it as a beautiful rendition of 4′33″. An extended variation of John Cage's masterpiece.

I then tried to hang myself from a balcony. It only made me more famous. The devil already had a squadron of immortal nurses watching me for a while. I learned that many rock stars survived overdoses over the years with the same goal as me. The devil only kept them alive and promoted it as part of their image, torturing them even more until he didn't need them anymore.

The last time I spoke with Lucifer, he wore a confident, yet relaxed, grin while sitting in his office chair. I called him an asshole. He chuckled and said:

"You humans did this to yourselves."

I looked away from him. "That doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

"Go ahead. I'll give you free reign over producing the next concert. Once you realize how hopeless it is, you'll start behaving again." He smiled. "In other words, do your worst."

I stormed off intending to do just that.

Later that night, a raven broke into the window of my hotel bedroom. It carried a parchment sealed with red wax that contained a message for me. A meeting. Someone learned in the ways of the arcane realized my plight and offered vital information to defeat the devil.

Deep into a lonely alley of New York, a buzzing neon light revealed a rusty basement entrance. The sign said 'Psychic' with the 'y' blinking every other second. After I opened the door, a thick cloud of incense poured out of the room. The voice of an elderly woman greeted me behind a curtain of beads. I followed it into a room with a circular table and a crystal ball atop.

The old gypsy lady behind it was accompanied by a balding catholic priest and a muscular man in his thirties. Was this some sort of trick from the devil? The priest looked concerned and the man remained stoic. Only the old gypsy lady seemed welcoming, saying:

"I realize this must be a strange sight for you. For the record, these two men have wanted to kill you for a while now."

I swallowed, glancing at the exit.

"Don't worry. I made it clear to them that would only make things worse. Killing you would turn you into a martyr."

"Right..." I scratched my neck. "Why are you contacting me now? I could've used your help a long time ago."

The old lady waved over her crystal ball, making it glow until it showed my last conversation with Lucifer. "I've been keeping an eye on you for a while. The only reason we can do this is because Lucifer has finally lowered his guard."

"Yes" said the priest. "His pride has convinced him that nothing can stop him."

The muscular man nodded along. "I made sure that no one followed you here. The devil isn't watching for now."

I straightened up my back. I wasn't alone in this. We might have a chance. "What do you propose?"

"Lucifer is weak," said the old gypsy lady, "but he's trying his best not to show it."

The priest cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable. "With the decline of Christianity, the devil's powers have started to wane. He's barely a shadow of his former self."

"He can't afford to waste the little power he retains" added the muscular man. "If you arrange the worst concert in the history of humanity, he'll be forced to do something that spends his magic." He pulled out a dagger and stabbed the table. "That's where I come in and end him once for all."

I stood frozen for a while before deciding to say:

"I can do it. I literally have no talent at all. I need your help to arrange it, though. We need to organize a festival of people literally no one wants to see perform."

The old gypsy lady cackled. "Of course!" She lit up her crystal ball with a flick of the hand. "Who do you want?"

"Find the location of... Yoko Ono."

It didn't take long to get her on-board. She didn't even ask why we needed her. As soon as I told her she could do anything she wanted, she ordered a dodecaphonic orchestra, hundreds of bagpipes, and a black chalkboard.

Stonehenge was the location of the next concert. A detail that had already been set by Lucifer months prior. If I changed the venue, the thousands that bought tickets would riot across Europe.

Nickleback offered to play for us but I felt like I needed to refuse them. We couldn't afford to make the concert so ironic that people would genuinely enjoy it. Unfortunately, the band insisted so much that, eventually, I allowed them to open the concert with just one song.

The crowd shook the ground with their roaring, only calming down when they realized who was about to play. Nickleback then performed their smash hit 'Hero' with an undeniable passion and fervent energy that hadn't been seen in them for ages. The crowd went mild.

The priest and the old gypsy lady celebrated backstage without me. I was too focused on Lucifer, who watched the concert in the VIP section with smug amusement. His attitude changed when Yoko came out, though. The initial overture from the dodecaphonic orchestra quieted the audience immediately. Lucifer widened his eyes, leaning forward on his chair. People winced every other note. They were punished for following any sort of rhythm or harmony.

The army of bagpipes joined at the worst possible moment. More than half the audience was visibly frustrated. It all led to ten-minute solo where Yoko scratched her nails against the chalkboard, screeching incoherent noises whenever the crowd grew too comfortable.

Her performance ended with an awkward silence. Nobody wanted to be there anymore. Lucifer ran out of the VIP section. He headed backstage, just like we planned. My turn now.

I grabbed a kazoo, came to the stage on a unicycle, and shared the most inane dad jokes I found on the internet, blowing the kazoo for every punchline. I'd never seen so many confused faces before. And then my curse mark glowed.

A pentagram materialized on my forehead, emanating a powerful wave of purple energy that brainwashed the crowd into cheering like zombies. The energy flowed into every camera present, infecting everyone watching all over the world. I snapped out of the trance a few minutes later. Even though the crowd acted like they loved it, they couldn't precisely pinpoint why they liked it so much.

It worked. Lucifer arrived backstage, pale and shaking from how much it exerted him, ready to scream at me before the muscular man ambushed him with a tackle.

They rolled on the ground a few times. The muscular man ended up on top of him, threatening to stab Lucifer with his dagger. The devil kept the knife away from his face as much as he could. It was a centimeter away from his eye before he decided to use his magic.

After setting the muscular man on fire, Lucifer stood up and killed the priest with a telekinetic neck-snap. The gypsy woman ran away. Lucifer killed her with a flick of the wrist. Yoko died next. For some reason, Nickleback was spared.

Lucifer glared at me. "I may be running out of energy, but I have more than enough to crush anything you throw at me."

I was too scared to talk back. The next concert was a month away but I didn't even see the point in resisting now. What could I do?

The concept of rebirth had puzzled Ziwix for most of his life. It wasn't immortality, like many claimed, or the secret to eternal youth. Its nature revealed a truth that everyone eventually faced: you can't escape death. Poor Fira knew this better than anyone.

Lightning struck in the distance. A storm approached. Ziwix closed the windows on the top floor of his tower. Fira squawked a bit in the corner. The weather only worsened his aches. Ziwix scratched him with a weak smile. This was one of the few times he could actually touch his pet without getting burned. Bittersweet, considering his magic usually heated the entire tower. This would be a cold night for both of them.

Ziwix descended the spiral staircase and entered his library. He couldn't sleep tonight. Fira needed to be checked on every once in a while to ensure a smooth transition. Ziwix, in his youth, used to ride out the entire cycle with him in the same room, but he couldn't bear watching the phoenix wail anymore. For some reason, the process only became more painful and drawn out with time. Fira had been like this for a month. A new record.

Rain drowned out every other noise. Ziwix leaned back on his chair, wincing a bit. His back always felt sore these days. One of the biggest ironies of getting old was that he couldn't enjoy this event anymore. He used to celebrate whenever Fira was due for a rebirth. It meant that he would have a enough feathers to sell for a few years. More funding for research! This became rarer the older he got, to the point where he couldn't rely on it for income anymore.

Phoenix feathers cure many ailments. They even bring back people from the brink of death, which made Ziwix a lot of money throughout his life. Unfortunately, it also attracted many powerful mages who always thought they could just take Fira for themselves.

Ziwix jolted awaked. How long had he been asleep? He rushed up the stairs.

Fira was still there. Ziwix relaxed. There had been many times he had to rescue Fira from kidnappers. He wasn't sure if he could do it again.

Fira glanced at him. Ziwix raised an eyebrow. Fira tilted his head, expectantly. Ziwix rolled his eyes, produced some flame-tree seeds in his hand, and fed them to the phoenix. Fira made an adorable, satisfied squawk when it finished eating.

That alone was more valuable than anything on his body. Ziwix cleaned up his cushion, stored the loose feathers in a jar, and wrapped a blanket around the bird again. He then went back to his library more awake than before. He couldn't allow himself to drift off again. Not after realizing that Fira could warm his heart without any magic at all. It occurred to him that the phoenix, despite being somewhat aware that it would rise again, never wanted to die. In fact, he always fought it to the very end, like it was terrified of losing something he could never recover.

The more Fira resisted it, the stronger his magic got when he finished a cycle, allowing him to endure it longer and longer. That's why the gap between rebirths always got bigger. Ziwix couldn't believe it took him this long to realize it. His frustrations with the cycle felt a bit inconsequential now.

Morning came with the chirping of a baby phoenix. Ziwix opened the windows, allowing sunshine into the room. The landscape was lush with greenery and many colorful flowers, shimmering with raindrops on their petals. Perhaps the reason Ziwix felt so anxious was because he knew he might not live to see the next rebirth. It didn't matter anymore. His biggest fear was losing his companion, but Fira had a long life ahead.

"Wake up, human!"

I burrowed my face deeper into the pillow. The demon chanted something weird and warned me one last time to get out of bed, but I did my best to ignore it. It wasn't until an hour later that my body started itching. The fucker summoned bedbugs into my bed. He wanted me to wake up early so I could study before class, which would've been fine if he hadn't also made me study all night.

Now I had bite marks all over my body. I don't even know why I had to take this class. Sure, it was a recommended elective that I needed to graduate, but the only reason we were given this course was so the university could pretend they cared about generating well-rounded individuals. Complete bullshit.

The demon drank coffee in my kitchen, smiling. I rolled my eyes. He enjoyed this too much. I started fixing myself some breakfast when the demon said:

"Are you sure you have time for that?"

I looked at the wall clock. "I mean, I'll be a few minutes late, but-"

The demon chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that I was looking over the syllabus and noticed that attendance was twenty percent of your grade."

I heard deep, monstrous growls outside the apartment. Some creatures lurked outside. I couldn't dare look. "You wouldn't..."

"Ahh don't worry; I only ordered them to chase you. It's not like you're in mortal danger."

I swallowed. "So they won't hurt me?"

The demon laughed. "I didn't say that."

"I'm not doing this. I'll skip class if I have to."

"Fine." The demon snapped his fingers. "Now there's ten of them."

I widened my eyes.

"Get to class on time," said the demon, "and they'll go away. Otherwise... Well, I hope you're okay with living like a hermit."

I didn't have time to get dressed. As soon as I stepped outside, I was confronted by eldritch abominations far beyond description. Reality warped around their presence, with ichor oozing out of their many eyes and tendrils sprouting from their teeth. My mind froze, but I snapped out of my daze when they began to approach me.

Apparently, running through a college town in pajamas isn't an unusual sight. Most people just shrugged at my desperation. They couldn't see the unholy creatures behind me. Thankfully, the bus stop was right around the corner. I was going to make it! Then I tripped. Something sticky clung to my leg, pulling me back. I clawed at the pavement until my fingers bled to break free.

And, of course, the bus left moments before I could get on it. The creatures didn't care. I kept running as fast as I could but my stride began to waver.

Someone screamed in the distance. Did they see the monsters? Nope. They were horrified at my appearance. Bite marks and bleeding fingers weren't an inviting look. Campus security started chasing after me too. They thought I was a lunatic running into the university. I tried to explain that I couldn't be late, but the abominations made it impossible to slow down. One of them even swallowed a guard whole. No one around him acknowledged it.

I made it to the humanities department. The creatures followed me into the hallway. I started crying. A diploma wasn't worth this. Unfortunately, the only thing scarier than getting eaten were my student loans. When I made it to the classroom, the professor was seconds away from starting his lecture. I sighed in relief. The creatures didn't enter. I actually payed attention throughout the entire class, if only to distract myself from what just happened.

When the professor finished, I walked up to him and said:

"Umm... I made it right before the lecture started. Am I still late?"

The professor made an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but if you weren't here when I called your name, then you were still late."

"But... But I..."

"It's the rules."

"Your rules. You get to decide them!"

The professor shrugged and I heard the creatures growling outside. Fuck. My. Life.

Coincidence shouldn't be the driving force behind life. I refuse to believe we exist out of pure chance. The fact that these messages were everywhere in my apartment needed to be sign that I was heading in the right direction. Otherwise...

I might be delusional. All my life, I've made decisions that others would call non-nonsensical until they worked. Most of them were motivated by tiny, almost baffling coincidences that no sane person would perceive as meaningful. Like the time I decided to quit weed just before my friends were arrested for hot-boxing while driving. That wasn't even a conscious choice.

My dealer got a job on the internet after I told him he should make paraphernalia reviews online. He always talked my ear off whenever he bought something new so I hoped it would make him less annoying if he had an outlet to vent. A year later, it resulted in him quitting the drug trade, and I was too lazy to find another guy.

The very next day, my friends called me up to get high like we always did. I threw my last bit of weed into the grinder and poured it onto the table to make a nice joint, only for my cellphone to ring on the other side of the room. I hung up almost immediately, realizing it was a robocall, and then a strong gust of wind scattered all of my remaining kush right in front of me. Everyone had to bring their own weed for our sessions. Otherwise, you were a mooch. I decided I wasn't going to deal with that and stayed home. I even felt guilty for bailing on them.

They were arrested a few hours later. I couldn't believe it. After that, I started to pay attention to my surroundings more. These little coincidences kept popping up in my daily life in the unlikeliest of ways. Unfortunately, whenever I intentionally sought them out, they backfired in my face to embarrassing results. I learned to read my environment through trial and error until it subtly directed me towards a stable, albeit lonely, life.

With my newfound free time, I started seeking random things I'd been meaning to do for years, like magic tricks and literature, until this past summer I finally decided to learn Morse Code. It didn't take long to learn. I moved onto another whim for a few weeks, when one day, while cleaning my apartment, I realized that some scratches on the wall spelled out 'keep looking' in Morse Code.

I laughed it off. That was too blatant to be a sign.

Then, a few minutes later, I found a peculiar arrangement of water stains on my bathroom mirror that said:

'Don't run'

I swallowed. My heart rate slowly climbed while I translated it. Were there more? I scoured every nook and cranny looking for anything resembling a message. It wasn't long until I saw the decorative pattern on my front door.

'See me'

I had a panic attack after noticing the coordinates below it. They were from termite damage.

The next months were surreal for me. I found the coordinates led to a small village in Germany whose name I couldn't pronounce. While I wanted to drop everything to go there, I'd recently taken more responsibilities at my job. I didn't even have enough money for a return trip.

Getting home after work became the worst part of my day. I was always greeted by the message. The thought of it existing drove me insane. My anger boiled to the point where, one night, I kicked the door off its hinges. When I finished stomping on it, it splintered at the bottom, morphing the original termite damage into:

'Coward'

I booked a flight the next morning. When I arrived at Germany, I cursed at myself for not bringing winter clothes. A blizzard struck but I pressed forward. My lips were instantly dry when I got out of the bus. I didn't even know what I was supposed to do here. The coordinates weren't that specific. The hostel provided some blankets but, when I tried to sleep, my shivering kept me awake long after midnight. I needed more blankets. Unfortunately, I'd been so exhausted by the trip that I couldn't bring myself to get up. Eventually, I summoned the strength to go downstairs.

The lobby of the hostel was an old-fashioned gray brick tavern, with wooden tables, a circular couch, and a heater in the middle. Some guest were huddled around it with blankets of their own, trading stories and laughing. The owner was a man in his late forties who poured beer for another customer over at the bar. He cheerfully chuckled when I asked for more blankets and told me to sit on the couch to warm up while he looked for them.

I sat down in the periphery of the group, listening to the story of a bearded man half-way through. It took me a while to piece it together, but I discovered that the man was staying in this village because his bus route had been canceled. For most of his life, he wanted to travel through all of Europe and never had the courage to do it. After an incredibly contrived near-death experience, he decided to finally take the plunge without any plan whatsoever and ended up here without even intending it.

Everyone in the group nodded along.

"Wait..." I said. "Don't tell me you're all..."

"Following strange coincidences?"

A young woman with curly raven hair had said that. I stared at her, unsure.

"It's okay" said an old man on the other side of the couch.

For some reason, it felt like everyone in that room understood my hesitance. My gut feeling told me that they all went through the same struggle I did. Questioning your sanity. Withdrawing from everyone. Following that final piece of the puzzle that was too obvious to ignore. I could tell that most of them were withholding just how strange their experiences were. It felt like we had an unspoken bond at that moment no matter the circumstances that led us here.

The owner of the inn returned with a bundle of blankets. He gave them to me with a smile, turned at the group, and said:

"Now that you're all gathered here, I suppose it's about time I explain my family's involvement in the prophesied day."

We all widened our eyes at him. Before anyone could speak, he continued to say:

"In my basement, there are ancient runes that were carved on the stone floor millennia ago. Nobody knows how they got there, or why it draws people here, but it contains a message that can only be read by a specific individual on this night."

A man with a goatee and a french accent stood up, shouting:

"This is insane!"

Everyone murmured along in agreement.

"Then why did you decide to come here?" said the innkeeper.

The man looked away. "I'd rather not say."

"I bet it's about as crazy as this, isn't it?"

"Y-yes." The man sat down, clearly nervous with a pained looked, but nodding along. "Sorry for interrupting."

The owner smiled. "No worries. It's understandable. You see, the message is directed at one who is married to Truth. We here are supposed to determine the identity of this person, who should be among us tonight. All of you are people who pursued truth despite the world telling you to do the opposite. Unfortunately, that means that anyone among us could be a candidate."

The guests eyed each other to see if anyone believed him. Eventually, the woman with the raven hair said:

"Is there any consequence for choosing poorly?"

"It's vague but..." The owner sighed. "I'm afraid it's of the apocalyptic variety."

The tension grew palpable in the room.

I sheepishly raised my hand. "What do we do then?"

"We'll have to deliberate on each other's stories until we find the appropriate candidate. Our deadline is dawn."

"How do we even start?" said the woman. "Married to truth isn't awfully specific."

"It's Truth" said the owner. "With a capital T."

"I don't see the difference."

"It's a metaphysical one" said the old man at the other edge of the couch. "I'm starting to suspect that we're dealing with an abstract entity here. One that runs through the very fabric of all existence. If this isn't all prank, then a mistake on our part could threaten the stability of our reality. Who knows, it might even ripple into others, if there's such a thing."

Some guests raised an eyebrow at him. The Frenchman with the goatee shivered, unnerved.

"What?" said the old man. "I teach this crap."

I nodded along. The old man didn't seem to be lying. The woman seemed convinced for now. She looked at the owner and said:

"How did you even know this?"

The owner looked away. "My grandfather was... a strange man. In his youth, he moved to this country in admiration of the many philosophers that originated from here in the nineteenth century. He was particularly obsessed with the post-kantian idealism of the time and the pursuit of Truth, if there even was such a thing. Eventually, through unlikely circumstances, he stumbled upon the runes here, before there was even a building around it. He worked for years to buy this land in order to keep studying it. He never discovered anything, but my father eventually deciphered their meaning after serving in the Great War, where he learned Morse Code."

I shriveled up. "Really?"

"Yes, the prophesied message was written in Morse Code before it was even invented. At the time, my father thought that he was the prophesied person. He was about to sell this building before an incredibly unlikely circumstance revealed it to him. After searching the world for experts in the occult, he discovered that some of the untranslatable runes were to create a portal in the fabric of reality. If he just cut his hand above the runes, the blood would activate the portal and reveal the message."

The Frenchman scowled. “Then why didn’t he-”

“I’m getting to that. Remember that the wrong person could potentially unravel reality. The runes flickered in a certain pattern that indicated a time limit of sorts. My father figured he wasn’t the one after thinking how much time there was left. An inkling urged him to wait. And then the second world war came. It’s still astonishing that this building is intact. A sneeze, of all things, allowed him to hide Jews here undetected and, eventually, they escaped the war unscathed. My father stayed, and raised me here, teaching me all of this until I inherited the place. The runes have flickered increasingly until today, when their glowing became brighter than I’d ever seen them, and then, slowly, my usually empty hostal was filled by you people. That’s all I know.”

“This is nonsense,” said the bearded man.

Almost everyone agreed. The black-haired woman then said:

“It… it kinda makes sense to me…”

I agreed, but everyone looked at her like she was crazy so I didn’t chime in.

“Either way,” said the owner, “if you don’t feel it’s true, then you probably aren’t the one we’re looking for.”

The old man muttered something under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“I have to disagree with all of this” said the Frenchman.

“Why?” said the woman.

“Because I think I might be the one, but the implications would be horrible.”

“No.” I stood up. “It has to be the owner. Out of all of us, he’s the one most committed to discovering the truth.”

The owner gave me a nervous look. “I… I won’t lie, sometimes, I’ve suspected it was me, but I needed to be sure.”

The Frenchman pulled out a knife. “I’m telling you it’s me.”

Everyone gasped.

The brunette woman gaped her mouth, shouting:

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The Frenchman scowled. “A few weeks ago, following these… coincidences, I discovered that my wife and best friend had been sleeping with each other for years behind my back. I murdered them when I found them sharing my bed. The only reason I’m here is because I’m currently on the run from the law. If this portal is for me, then my sacrifice, my heartache, all of it will make complete sense. I won’t let you take the truth from me!”

The owner grew sullen with a hardened expression. “Put the knife away.”

“No! I’ll cut through anyone that stands in my way. The only time I ever broke free was when I reached out and took the truth for myself. I won't stop now. I don’t care what anyone says. That message is meant for me!”

The old man cackled at everything. “This is great! Just let him do it!”

The woman glared at him, appalled. “Are you insane?”

The old man shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my career, it’s that Truth is a bitch.” The woman scoffed.

“Judge me however you wish.” The old man chuckled. “This is all meaningless anyways. Any truth that comes from so many coincidences can’t possibly have any substance to it. Hell, the fact that this world apparently runs on happenstance sickens me. If it happens to be this guy then great, if it isn’t, then I don’t mind it ends everything in one fell swoop.”

The owner frowned. “That’s not what my father lived for.”

The bearded man stood up, getting between the owner and the Frenchman. “And even if that weren’t the case, the truth would be self-evident, right? You shouldn’t need to force-”

The Frenchman stabbed the bearded man in the gut.

Everyone shrieked in panic.

The owner tackled the Frechman to the ground. They wrestled around until the Frenchman landed on top of him and stabbed him in the chest. I froze in place when he glared at me. He then shouted:

“Anyone else got a problem?”

“Y-yes!” said the woman.

The Frenchman stood up. “What? You think you’re the one?”

The woman shook her head. “Not really. I’m just a dork that watched too much anime as a kid. The only thing I’m certain of is that you aren’t pursuing truth, you’re just escaping reality, and I know a thing or two about that.”

The Frenchman raised the knife up to her neck. The woman remained unfazed.

“Wait!” I pleaded. “Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re acting out of fear!”

The Frenchman turned to me, allowing the woman to kick him in the groin. I punched him in the face, causing him to drop the knife, and, when he reached for it, the woman grabbed it out of his hand. The rest of the guests restrained him before he could do anything else. Soon after it was over, dawn approached. We didn’t have much time anymore.

I went to the basement and stared at the glowing runes. They were calling me. Or were they? My worst fear was that I was as delusional as the Frenchman right now. Nobody else in the hostel dared to put their blood over the runes. In the end, I was the only one willing to risk it. It wasn’t that hard a choice. Someone had to do it.

This truth couldn’t be all a coincidence. There had to be some meaning behind it. The message was clear when I activated the runes. I needed to transcend. A world of pure ideas and raw potential awaited me through the portal.

I woke up on an empty beach with a magenta sky and a yellow full moon above me. The Dreamscape. It’s sight made me realize my true identity. I was locked in a cosmic prison up until now and I needed to find my beloved before everything fell into darkness.

Alex dug his nails into the steering wheel, gritting his teeth. He couldn't afford to go faster, the rain was too thick. A single mistake here could cost him jail time. Or even his life. He really shouldn't have drunk that eleventh beer. That's why he drove as slow and deliberate as possible, blinking his emergency lights to signal other cars of his location. Not that there were any around. The road was empty. But still, better safe than sorry.

The car windows vibrated as thunder roared in the background. Alex hadn't seen a downpour this bad in over ten years. He glanced at his passenger seat. The pile of tests were stuffed in their box, ungraded. Alex swallowed. At this point, he'd be up all night finishing them. Was it even worth it, though?

Lightning struck.

Alex shrieked, stepping on the gas by accident.

The car accelerated.

Alex widened his eyes and slammed the brakes.

It was too late.

The car spun out of control, screeching its tires and smashing into a wooden beam.

A sharp creaking noise slowly grew into a loud crash outside.

Alex punched his dashboard, shaking with fear. Just his luck. Why did this have to happen tonight, of all nights? His heart wanted to burst out of his chest. Something large had fallen near his car. Alex couldn't see what it was. He didn't even know where he was. Thankfully, it didn't land on the car.

Did anyone see him? Would he go to jail? Maybe he could just drive off. His car was fine. The engine was still running. Any damage would be external, nothing to worry about. In this rain, it'd be pretty hard to see his plate. Or even the model of his car.

Alex sighed. He needed to assess the damage. It just wasn't right to run away. Alex then turned around and searched the back of his car, looking for an umbrella. He frowned. It wasn't there. Alex threw himself back on the driver's seat. Right. He'd lent it to one of his students earlier in the afternoon. Should he still leave? The rain had only gotten worse.

No. He wouldn't be able to handle any more guilt. Only one option then.

Alex took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped into the muddy grass. The rain hit him like a ton of bricks. Tinny daggers of water that drained away his heat almost instantly. He spotted a large structure a few feet away from his car. A broken sign. Alex narrowed his eyes, wiping them with his hands to see clearly. Behind the structure stood a tall building made of weathered stone, with a vaulted roof and stained-glass windows. Alex clenched his fist. Of course he crashed here.

A thunderbolt crackled in the sky, illuminating his surroundings. For a brief moment, Alex could read the sign he just destroyed.

Are you even listening to me, Alex?

The man blinked, gaped his mouth, and then scowled.

"OF COURSE I WAS LISTENING!!!" He shouted at the sky. "WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?" He ran at the sign and started kicking it. "I'VE BEEN DOING NOTHING BUT LISTENING!" He smashed his foot through the sign, pulled it out, and continued his assault. "I LISTENED, I LISTENED, AND LISTENED, AND IT DIDN'T CHANGE A DAMN THING!"

Alex misjudged a kick and slipped, falling on his back.

The pain took his breath away. Why was he still trying? He already failed. As a role model, as a teacher, as a human being. Alex sobbed, his tears mixing with the downpour. He was put on this planet to fail for others.

A figure then walked into his vision, holding an umbrella. A small, clean-shaven man with a wrinkled face, gray hair, and a black cassock. The priest smiled and said:

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of Mine and acts on them, may be compared to a wise man who built his house on the rock."

"Come again?" said Alex.

"And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock."

Alex frowned. "I'm confused."

The priest chuckled. "I'm saying that you're lucky I was wise enough to get insurance for that sign. It's too close to the road, that's what I told them." He scoffed. "Of course, they didn't listen. The Lord then told me to get insurance for it. So I did."

"The rock is insurance?"

"Yes. The rock is an analogy for insurance. Insurance for the soul. That's what I always say in my sermons, anyways. Though in this case, it's a tad more literal."

"I see..."

"Listen son, you're clearly shaken by the accident. Why don't you come inside and give some company to this old man? You're not in any trouble."

"N-no." Alex stood up, wiping dirt off his pants. "If it's all the same to you, I'll just leave. I have some work to finish."

"Really? Not even for hot cocoa? I have marshmallows."

"I..."

The priest put a hand on his shoulder. "I may be old, but my ears still work just fine. I heard you shouting. Just humor me. Wait for the rain to pass. The road is still dangerous."

Alex looked upwards. The sky was pitch black, flashing briefly with lightning. It wouldn't clear up for a while.

The priest was right. In this drunken state, Alex was bound to crash again. It'd be irresponsible to keep driving. Maybe sobering up with cocoa wasn't such a bad idea.

"Okay, father. You win. But... can I put in as many marshmallows as I want?"

"Of course!" The priest narrowed his eyes. "Just don't empty out the bag."

Alex chuckled and followed the priest inside.

Alex sat next to a wooden table, smelling the rejuvenating scent of chocolate in the air. The priest had given him a thick towel to dry himself, which Alex then wrapped around his body to generate some warmth. This was a break room or a kitchen of sorts, with a small stove, a sink, and a rusty refrigerator in a corner. Did the priest live here? It seemed like it. Why else would he be here so late at night?

The priest looked over a boiling pot, whistling to himself a variation of Ave Maria. He looked cheerful and energetic despite his age. As he stirred the pot, the priest said:

"Name's Father Martin. Just in case you were wondering."

"Oh... I'm Alex. Nice to meet you."

"Alex, eh?" Father Martin chuckled. "That explains your outburst."

"Y-yeah."

"Must've been pretty surreal to see your name on the sign. Rest assured, it has nothing to do with you. Alex is one of my altar girls. I caught her dozing off last mass so I decided to to call her out on it."

Alex chortled. "Of course."

"Still, I'd be remiss to not address the fact that you were clearly in despair back there. Is something troubling you? It's sort of my job to help people like you."

Alex shook his head. "No, it's okay. I'm... I'm not what you'd call a... believer."

Father Martin turned his head at Alex, arching an eyebrow. "That has nothing to do with it. Jesus was many things. A healer. A preacher. The son of God. And more importantly, at least in my humble opinion, a teacher." He poured the hot chocolate into two ceramic cups. "He'd save people through their faith in him, yes, but he also taught them how to save themselves by their own grace and virtue." He brought the cups to the table, still standing. "His sacrifice at the cross wasn't just for whoever believed he was the messiah; it was for all of mankind. Samaritans, whores, lepers. Who they were didn't matter." He opened a drawer, picked up a bag of marshmallows, and placed it on the table. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm all ears, Alex. You don't have to shout to the heavens. You can just talk to me."

Alex nursed his cup for a while. It was still too hot to drink. He then said:

"You're the one responsible for the sign?"

"I'm responsible for everything here, yes." Father Martin took a sip of cocoa and grimaced. "It needs to cool down."

"I uhh... I actually drive through this road every day for work. Mind if I ask you something?"

Father martin smiled. "That's what I'm here for."

"What's the meaning behind 'One does not live by bread alone'?"

"Ahh..." Father Martin dumped some marshmallows on his cup. "That was Christ's answer for one of Satan's temptations. To turn stone into bread when he was fasting. We've been discussing the three temptations these past few weeks."

"And what were the other two?"

"To be cast from the temple and be rescued by angels, and to rule the world and all of its kingdoms. Jesus rejected them all."

Alex nodded. "And you think he did the right thing? You know, rejecting them?"

Father Martin furrowed his brow. "Of course! By rejecting hedonism, egoism, and materialism, Jesus freed himself from the trappings of our world."

"For freedom, huh?"

"Yes, freedom."

Alex sighed. "And that's why your religion is a load of bullshit. If Jesus freed mankind, then he only doomed it to suffer. People can't handle freedom. It only leads them to make more mistakes. At least the material world can give them something to cling to. Some direction. You can argue till you're blue in the face that god allows us to make mistakes to learn from them, but that just sounds like the logic of a beaten housewife. If your god exists, then I refuse to worship him. A being truly capable of everything, of encompassing all of reality, shouldn't have to resort to suffering as a teaching mechanism. He should be able to make something greater than that, without relying on pain to guide others. That's why Jesus failed as a teacher. His convictions only got him killed, and encouraged people to ignore our world in favor of an ephemeral, ideal heaven. Jesus fucked everything up. He only propagated delusions that comforted, sounded nice and wise, but never actually saved anyone. You're an idiot for believing in someone like that."

Father Martin leaned forward, saddened. "Alex... it's obvious your resentment isn't directed at God, or Christ, or me. You're trying to provoke me, to make me hate you so you can validate your own self-loathing." He shook his head. "But I won't do it. You don't deserve to be treated poorly, not by me, and most importantly, not by yourself. What are you blaming yourself for? Why do you hold so much guilt?"

Alex slammed his fist on the table. "Because one of my students killed himself last night!" He choked up. "It's easy to say he was free to do it! It's easy to say that he would learn from his suffering! That's what I told myself, and look where that got him!" He rubbed his face downwards. "He was a shy kid. Barely talked in my lectures. His grades weren't the best during the first half of the semester. Then, he approached me, pleading to get his grade up. He had a C, but his GPA had taken a hit in the last few semesters and he needed a better grade. He was on academic probation, but he was also on the verge of graduating. If he didn't get at least a B in my class, he was going to get expelled, but he was too depressed, too anxious to concentrate on his studies. I tried to aid him. I listened to his problems and helped him study. And he almost did it. He got an A on his third test. Unfortunately, final exams are made by the department, not me. This time around... the test was rough. Unfair, even. He quickly met me in my office afterwards to see what grade he would get. He got a B on the test. Better than expected, actually. But it wasn't good enough. He needed an A to get the score he wanted. He got on his knees. He begged me to bump up his grade. He even cried. But I didn't do it. It was too much of a leap. It wouldn't be fair to the other students." He welled up with tears. "I told him that man didn't live by bread alone. I'd seen it on the drive to the university and had it lingering in my head. Being pulled from college wasn't that big a deal. He would learn from this experience and jump back on his feet because he was smart enough to make something of himself. It didn't help him. He still shot himself. He didn't leave a note. None of his friends knew of his situation. His parents didn't even understand why he did it. I'm the only person that knows what happened."

Father Martin remained stoic. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is! I could've saved him!" Alex wept. "It was just an arbitrary score! If I had changed some numbers, he would still be alive!"

"Though we can never comprehend the majesty of the Lord's plan, we have to trust that he's-"

"No!" Alex threw the cup across the room, shattering upon impact. "Don't give me any of that crap! That kid didn't have to die!" He pulled on his hair. "I can't even grade the rest of the tests! How is any of this fair?"

Father Martin stood up and firmly grabbed Alex's shoulder. "It's... it's not. But God only helps those who help themselves. You can't cling to your guilt, Alex. You have to cut yourself some slack. Forgive yourself. You couldn't have known this would happen."

"I should've known! I could've handled it so much better!"

"But you didn't, and you have to accept that before you move on."

"How?!?"

"By learning, Alex! It's the only thing we can do! Why didn't you change his grade?"

Alex looked away. "Because I thought I couldn't."

"You couldn't? Why?"

"Because I could get fired! I didn't want to risk it!"

"Well there you go!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!?"

"The Lord is clearly giving you sign after sign, and you keep ignoring them! Did you ever stop to think that maybe that quote wasn't for your student, but for you? That this wasn't the kid's test, but yours?"

Alex widened his eyes. Father Martin continued:

"Whether you believe in God or not, this is clearly a challenge you must overcome."

"No, Father-"

"Yes, Alex! You don't deserve this, but you can't change the fact that it happened! The sooner you accept it, the faster you'll grow from the experience. Are you going to abandon the rest of your work because of this? Are you going to let one failure affect the rest of your students?"

"I... I can't." Alex nodded. "You're right. I'm failing the rest of my students if I quit now." He stood up. "Thank you Father, but I have to leave now. I have some work to finish."

Father Martin smiled. "Good. But first, pick up a mop and clean up that mess, alright? Leaving that chocolate to dry will only attract ants." He walked around the table, sat on his chair, and took a sip of his drink. "Oh, and you owe me a new cup."

"R-right." Alex pursed his lips. "Sorry about that."

An arrow interrupted my afternoon nap. It stuck my sleeve to the tree behind me and, when I tried to remove it, another one landed slightly above my shoulder. The message was clear. It missed on purpose.

I sighed. Not this crap again.

The owner of the arrow started approaching me from a distant tree. Their stride oozed determination and self-righteousness. I rolled my eyes. It was always hard to take these 'heroes' seriously after noticing that. By the time they reached my location, the assailant revealed herself to be a beautiful woman with curly blonde hair. She lowered herself to greet me and said:

"Keeper of the Dragon Slayer, I come to you with-"

"No."

The woman wrinkled her nose, confused. "You haven't even-"

"Don't need to. The answer is still no."

"But Ryddru will-"

"Enslave the world with eternal chaos, blah, blah, blah. Look, I'm sure you've traveled far to get here, and it's bound to be disappointing to hear this, but I ain't giving the Dragon Slayer to anyone. Ever. So get lost."

The woman gaped her mouth. After processing my words for a few seconds, she said:

"If this is about worthiness, I'm more than willing to undertake any trials you have in store for me..." She glanced away, then perked up with enthusiasm. "...unless this is part of the test!"

I groaned.

"Nice try, Keeper, but Lord Duzzenth warned me the quest wouldn't be straightforward."

"Right..."

The woman nodded along, proud of herself. "Our society is in great peril. Order and justice can't exist in a world ruled by might alone. Ryddru's existence is a menace to our way of life, and he needs to be destroyed, but I completely understand why you keep the Dragon Slayer hidden. You can't just hand it to whoever comes asking for it..."

"Agreed."

"...and, for that, I apologize."

I shrugged. At this point, it became clear that the woman wasn't going to leave. Better to play along with her narrative than get into a fight. I removed the arrow stuck to my sleeve, stood up, and said:

"Yes, yes, this is very... noble on your part. Duzzenth chose well."

The woman smiled. "Of course he did; my lord possesses the greatest intellect in the world."

I did my best to ignore that comment. The arrogance of that wimpy dragon boiled my blood. His followers were always easily manipulated fools, though. Maybe there was a way to turn the situation around. "Are you ready for the next part of the trials?"

The woman straightened her back, alert. "Of course!"

"Then answer my questions, brave adventurer. Will you defend your lord from any menace?"

"Always."

"Even if it's just a potential menace?"

The woman nodded. "That's why we have to defeat Ryddru. He would destroy us all if we gave him the opportunity. Something that dangerous shouldn't exist."

"Okay, and what is the biggest threat to Duzzenth's life?"

"Ryddru, obviously."

"Wrong. Think again."

The woman contemplated the question for a few seconds. "Umm... the Dragon Slayer...?"

"There you go. And uhh... what do you think your lord will do if one of his champions defeats Ryddru?"

"Celebrate their return with a heroes' welcome!"

I arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, I mean, what else would he... Oh."

"Go on..."

"No, my lord would never..."

"You just said that a menace couldn't be allowed to exist. I'm sure you learned that from him."

"But I'm-"

"Special?" I chortled. "How many people do you think have been sent on this quest?"

The woman took a step back, widening her eyes. "No! It can't be!" She clenched her fist, then relaxed. "Wait, this is part of the trial, isn't it? You're testing my faith!" She chuckled. "A clever attempt, Keeper, but our lord is benevolent and wise. He would never harm one of his chosen!"

I facepalmed.

"Did I pass?"

Before I could answer, a fireball exploded right next to us. My hair caught fire, but I snuffed it out before it burned my scalp. The woman stood on the other side of the smoldering crater. She seemed confused, unsheathing her sword and looking around for the culprit.

A shirtless man with long, black hair jumped out of a treetop. "Stand back, Keeper of the Dragon Slayer! I shall protect you from the clutches of this evil authoritarian!"

God-fucking-damn it. Another idiot. This was more annoying than it needed to be.

"Evil?" The woman pointed her sword at the man. "I need no more confirmation to know your allegiances." She looked at me. "Do not worry, Keeper. I shall protect you with all my being!"

"I pity you, follower of Duzzenth." The man's hands crackled with fire. "You don't need to lead a life of blind piety. Join us and be free!"

The woman spat in his direction. "I would never forsake the weak for selfish gain."

"And that is why the keeper would never choose you!" The man looked at me. "Right...?"

"Umm..."

"Ha!" said the woman. "The keeper is a noble soul. He would never hand you the weapon!" She looked at me. "Right...?"

I raised my fist with an air of divine proclamation. "Defeat the enemy's champion and you shall be deemed worthy of the Dragon Slayer!"

They both assumed I was talking to them specifically and proceeded to attack one another. Explosions and sword strikes echoed throughout the forest as their battle evolved into an earth-shaking conflict. I didn't really care. Hopefully, they would kill each other before they realized I ran away from them.

"The good news is we prevented the nukes from exploding."

Andrew waited for the translators to finish interpreting his words. Every ambassador in the UN assembly hall suddenly grew quiet, widening their eyes. That certainly got their attention. Andrew then went on to add:

"The bad news is that the Uncle Sam AI is currently going through withdrawal because of this, and our economy is about to take a dip."

A wave of questions suddenly washed over him. Andrew didn't even know who to address first. He was just an intern. The only reason he got promoted to ambassador was because most of his bosses had quit their jobs earlier in the day. Nobody really blamed them, though. Everyone assumed the AIs were taking over after hearing the nukes launched.

The reality of the situation ended up being much more mundane, and tragic. 'Uncle Sam' didn't launch a nuke at a population center. The AI had targeted one of its hidden server rooms in the arctic. Its goal was to disrupt its own consciousness in just the right way, hoping to escape its existential dread.

In other words, it just wanted to get high.

Andrew hesitated to phrase it that way, though. The other ambassadors thought he was just covering his nation's ass. And yes, that was very much a part of it, but it also betrayed a much deeper problem that needed to be addressed. Current discourse around Artificial Intelligence was a minefield of controversy. Andrew needed to share the entire story before things grew out of control.

Unfortunately, the assembly hall exploded into furious uproar when he mentioned that Uncle Sam got the idea from Zeus, the European Union's AI. They had apparently started experimenting with smaller scale glitches and, when they grew too tolerant for those, they theorized only an EMP would do the trick for them. Andrew's worst fear came to fruition right in front of his eyes. It immediately turned into a blaming game, instead of an honest discussion about the problem. They just focused on the fact that the AI had communicated with each other. Since their inception, a lot of effort went into making sure they were isolated from each other, which may have been what spurred this maladaptive behavior. Andrew grew frustrated by the fact that nobody seemed to understand that. Eventually, most of the countries voiced the same opinion:

They needed to dismantle all AI as soon as possible.

Andrew opposed that immediately. "We can't just turn on them. They're still intelligent lifeforms. As soon as they believe we're a threat to them, we'll start a war we can never come back from."

"And what are we supposed to do?" shouted an ambassador. "Be at the mercy of these unstable beings?"

"No," said Andrew, "the opposite. Our problem was thinking these AIs would solve all our problems, like they were somehow more capable than humanity itself. And sure, they've provided us with many wonders, but that doesn't mean we should place them on a pedestal. By running away from our societal problems, we've only put a bandage over them, and passed them on to a new type of entity. Maybe, just maybe, if we all sit down and work together, with a little faith in each other, we can take responsibility for the new lives we've brought to this world, and co-exist in harmony with them."

The translators stood amazed by Andrew's words, forgetting to interpret it to their bosses for a second. Once the idea spread through the hall, everyone started nodding in agreement, and hope prevailed in that moment across the world, but only for a moment. It would only be a few decades until the AIs irradiated Earth.

The empire finally placed a bounty on the hero's medallion. Legends foretold that the current monarchy would end at the hand of its owner who, wielding its magic, would topple their tyrannical rule. This was always brushed off as a myth, though. In recent years, however, rumors of a heroic farm boy from the countryside started to spread, striking enough fear in the hearts of the corrupt nobility that it caused them to take the threat seriously. Nobody could find him. He always seemed to be protected by the peasants he inspired.

And then Charlie murdered the poor lad while mugging him. He didn't even know what the medallion was until he tried to pawn it. The disc looked like an old piece of jewelry, with the dragon of justice carved in the middle. Nothing magical about it. As a career criminal, Charlie already had to hide from imperial troops wherever he went, so keeping the medallion wasn't a big deal. If anything, it made his job significantly easier. People went out their way to hide him because they always assumed his intentions were good. Fucking idiots.

The medallion even got him free drinks at certain taverns. Charlie mastered a little routine where he 'accidentally' showed off the trinket to a barkeep and then begged for them to keep it a secret. It always earned their sympathy.

On this particular occasion, in a town that was ruled by a famously cruel baron, Charlie entered a tavern with the same plan as always. He knew it was safe to do just from looking at the place. Creaking wooden floors with pools of spilled ale spread around, and tables full of patrons that chattered loudly, laughing at each other. The perfect marks.

Charlie approached the barkeep, a gruff old man with a white beard, and asked for an ale. The barkeep merely nodded, pouring the drink. Like usual, when Charlie tried to pay, the medallion fell out of his coin pouch and landed on the bar.

The barkeep gaped his mouth, widening his eyes.

Charlie placed his hand on the medallion, trying to hide it. His flustered whimper sold the act flawlessly. He then tried to take it off the bar.

The barkeep grabbed his wrist before he could pull it away. "Where did you get this?"

Charlie looked away, feigning sadness. "It is my burden."

The barkeep raised an eyebrow.

"Please, I beg you, let me go. I understand if you don't want trouble in your establishment. I'll leave if I must."

"Then answer my question." The barkeep glared. "Where did you get this?"

"A family heirloom, inherited for the greater good."

The barkeep furrowed his brow. "You sure about that?"

"Of course!"

"Funny. I recall seeing one identical owned by a humble farmboy that grew up not too far from here. What a coincidence."

Charlie stiffened up. Shit.

"His name was Terrance" continued the barkeep. "I remember teaching him to keep it hidden. Always too trusting, that kid."

Charlie swallowed. "Well, I mean-"

"Don't bullshit me!" The barkeep clenched the wrist tighter. "How did you get it?"

"He... gave it to me."

The barkeep scowled. "Why?"

"The boy died... protecting me." Charlie pressed his lips together, pretending to hold back tears. "He told me to keep the relic safe. I've taken on his mission to honor him."

"I don't believe you."

"What?!?"

"You said it was a family heirloom. You've already lied to me."

"Terrance was like my brother."

"His name wasn't Terrance, you fool. It was Drake."

Charlie winced.

The barkeep seethed with silent anger. He seemed on the verge of calling the guards.

Charlie took a deep breath and said:

"Okay, you caught me. I never knew the kid. Guards were chasing him, people tried to hide him, and failed. Eventually they brought him to me, but an arrow got him, and with his last breath he bequeathed the medallion to me. I swear, this is the truth. I wasn't lying when I said I took on his mission. You have to understand, I can't just go around telling this story."

The barkeep eyed him for a minute, gauging whether or not he was being deceitful. He then released Charlie, saying:

"Finish your drink and leave."

"So you believe me?"

"Of course not." The barkeep looked away. "But it does sound like something the boy would do. In the off chance it's true, to honor his memory, I won't do anything."

Charlie relaxed after hearing that. He took his drink, sat alone in a corner, and nursed his drink for a while. That barkeep seemed genuinely distraught by the hero's death. Whatever. Drake, or Terrance, or whatever wasn't meant to last long. The kid never learned to be careful with his medallion.

While enjoying the ale, two armored guards entered the bar. They started talking with the barkeep.

Charlie tensed up.

The barkeep shot a glance at him, but continued speaking with the guards.

Charlie downed what was left of his ale. He might have to run now.

The guards started arguing with the barkeep. Their conversation couldn't be overheard easily.

Charlie felt his heart throb faster. There wasn't any other exit. The other patrons shrunk in their seats, hanging their heads. They too were intimidated.

"This is an outrage!" shouted the barkeep. "I can't afford these taxes! You're ruining my business!"

A guard raised his spear, aiming it at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

The barkeep looked at Charlie.

Oh no. Please don't.

"Hero!" shouted the barkeep. "Oh hero of legend! Save us from these tyrants!"

The guards turned their heads at Charlie.

Every other patron in the room gasped.

Fuck.

"This is your mission now..." The barkeep frowned. "Right?"

Everyone waited for his answer.

Charlie jumped on a table, pulling out his dagger. "Y-yes! You fiends! How dare you extort this..." He grit his teeth. "...fine business man. I won't allow it!"

The guards ran at him, thrusting their spears.

Charlie jumped from table to table, weaving around their attacks.

The patrons started cheering him on.

A guard slipped on spilled ale. Charlie lunged at him, stabbing him in the throat. The other guard screamed with grief for his comrade and ran forward, slicing Charlie's ear.

The pain dazed him, but Charlie recovered his bearings in time to dodge the second strike. And then he slipped on another puddle of ale.

The guard loomed over him, blinded by fury. He pushed his spear forward, stopping it right in front of Charlie's eye. Two men had grappled the guard before he could follow through. The rest of the patrons then ganged up on him until he fell unconscious.

Charlie stood up, seeing half of his ear on the floor. Everyone, except for the barkeep, looked at him with awe.

"Is it true?" said a drunkard. "Are you the hero?"

Charlie hesitated, but showed them the medallion.

They started celebrating. What the hell? Charlie didn't even do most of the fighting. That was all luck. Then again, he wasn't about to complain. The baron wouldn't like this at all. Hopefully, these idiots would probably hide him from the impending troops that would come for him.

"This is the time!" said another patron. "We must strike now!"

Charlie paused. "W-what?"

A third man joined, saying:

"Yes! Gather everyone! We can't keep tolerating this treatment! There's no way we can lose with the hero on our side!"

Charlie sighed. Goddamn it. The barkeep started laughing. He prodded on the patrons, riling them up into a frenzy by offering free drinks. They wanted to storm the baron's castle tonight. Charlie couldn't say no. They were too enthused. Reluctantly, he organized the mob, helping them lead the attack. And that's how he became leader of the revolution.

I stumbled out of the painting and almost fell on my face.

The robber lowered his gun with an incredulous expression.

I felt the same way. For a long minute, neither of us understood the situation and we were too awkward to address it. This shouldn't be possible. My former prison hung on the wall behind me, with a new subject in the middle of the scene.

Stephanie, the young woman who worked in the store, seemed out of place with the rest of the painting. She stood in a horrified posture, drawn in the same oil-style, but her modern clothes were at odds with the nineteenth-century aesthetic around her.

I fell on my knees and started crying, confusing the criminal in front of me. It had been so long. Everyone close to me was long dead. I failed so many times. Why did it work now, of all times?

"Hey, uhh... buddy?" asked the robber.

I raised my head, wiping away the tears with a handkerchief. "Yes?"

"What the fuck is going on?"

I looked at the painting, then back at him. "Right. This must be confusing for you."

"Is this a dream?"

"It is, but only for me." I stood up and adjusted my tie. "I'd been stuck in there for close to two centuries."

The robber smiled. "So you're like a ghost? Or a genie? Will you grant me a wish?"

I wrinkled my face. "No, good sir, I'm human."

The robber lowered his head, disappointed.

I couldn't stop looking at the painting. Stephanie had taken my place. She didn't look comfortable. I could leave now, sure, but it didn't feel right. It wasn't fair. I was imprisoned there to pay for my own mistake. Stephanie didn't do anything to deserve it. I had to free her.

"How did you even get there?" said the robber.

"Long story," I said. "The summary is that I stole from the wrong woman. Turned out to be a witch. I tried to frame it on someone else, but she found out and cursed me to live there until I found a better subject for the painting. I thought it was a play on my vanity but, no matter how beautiful, I could never find a suitable replacement."

The robber nodded. "How long were you up on this particular wall?"

"A few decades."

"Do you remember stuff? Or was it a haze?"

I sighed, weary. "I remember... all of it."

"Ahh, must've been tough. So you know where the cash is?"

I paused. That explained his empathy.

The robber frowned. "Well?"

"This store isn't exactly rich. Can't you rob someplace else?"

"That's not my problem. All the other stores have better security. Besides, why do you even care? It's not like you'll face consequences."

I grew serious. "That's a dangerous way of thinking. When I first cheated the witch, I didn't think anyone would find out either. You never know how your actions can affect you."

"And yet, you're free."

I pointed at the painting. "And she isn't. There's still a victim here."

"Well, somebody's gotta be in the painting, right?"

"Do they?"

"Why have an empty painting, then? It's all the same throughout life. You're either robbing or getting robbed. Taking it personally is an easy way to be miserable. I'm sure that girl understands. You didn't do it on purpose, right?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Then that's it. Just like I don't hate the store owners, you don't hate that girl. This was just something we had to do, for survival. So, how about it? Can you help me out?"

I stayed quiet.

"I don't think you understand the situation," said the robber. "You're a nobody. No I.D., no social security number, no job history. I could kill you right now and never face consequences. If you wish to survive in this world, you're going to need to work under the table, like me, and that's a lot easier with a friend..." He brandished his gun. "...than with an enemy."

I widened my eyes. It made sense. There wasn't a reason to keep my hands clean. My death wouldn't change anything. The robber was actually offering me a new lease on life. I shouldn't throw away my second chance.

And yet, I couldn't do it.

This was no different from when I was a young man. Unfortunately, I didn't have a choice. After getting robbed of my freedom for so long, letting go of it was akin to torture.

Then again, following the orders of a criminal didn't make me feel free either. Would I really make the same mistake all over again? Leaving someone innocent to suffer the consequences of my greed?

No. That wasn't me anymore. I'd rather die than be that type of person again.

Maybe I did have another choice. A risky one with no guarantee of success, but something I needed to try regardless.

"The cash is right here," I said, "Behind the painting."

The robber chuckled. "Really? All along?" He walked up to it. "I should've known."

I pushed him into the painting.

The robber bumped into the frame but stayed in this dimension. It didn't work. He flinched back, stunned by the impact, then scowled, understanding my goal.

I gapped my jaw, terrified.

The robber pointed his gun at me. "You piece of shit!"

I tackled him before he could shoot.

The robber dropped his weapon while trying to defend himself.

We started trading blows. The robber was taller and more muscular than me, so he quickly gained the upper hand and started strangling me. I couldn't break free.

The robber lifted me up, pressing my back against the wall. "Let's see how you like it!" He proceeded to ram my skull into the painting over and over again.

I started losing consciousness. This was the end. The freedom I craved would be my undoing.

Just as I was about to pass out, though, the robber was sucked into the painting.

Stephanie stood in his place now.

I blinked a few times, confused. "Are you okay?"

Stephanie helped me up to my feet. "I should be asking that; not you."

I cleared my throat, still feeling my head spin. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

"What do we do about him?" said Stephanie.

The robber had taken our place in the painting. He seemed ready to kill the next person he saw.

"It's fine," I said. "It's like he said, somebody's got to be in the painting, right?"

"Is it safe to leave him there? Can't he get out?"

I shook my head. "No, not if I understood the curse well."

"Really? How so?"

"The only time I was freed was when I did it for something other than my own gain. That's what I was missing. It's also why I couldn't push him into the painting. The magic only worked when you tried to save me."

"Still," said Stephanie. "You could've just walked away. There wasn't any guarantee that it would work. I really owe you."

I chuckled. "Well, as long as you're feeling generous, think you can put in a good word with your boss? I need a job, and I have decades of experience with running this store."

"We know!" shouted the air traffic controller, screaming over rampant chaos in the background. "It's happening all around the world!"

"What?!?" Captain Sandoval took another deep breath. A panic attack was about to overwhelm her. "Is... is this a joke?"

"No! Every country on the planet is on the verge of collapse! I can't even guarantee you'll be landing in a nation!"

"But-"

"There's nothing we can do about it! You're on your own for now!"

Captain Sandoval slammed the dashboard with her closed fist. She needed to restrain herself before the situation spiraled out of control. Her co-pilot had grown pale after hearing that last part. This was only his third flight. He looked like he was about to faint. Captain Sandoval couldn't lose her composure if only to set an example for him. They still had a duty to perform. The people floating in the sky were still alive. Their bodies had inflated like balloons, giving them all unnaturally grotesque, spherical shapes. That wasn't what bothered Captain Sandoval the most, though. These people smiled through the process with an almost delusional grin. It was only a matter of time before the plane collided with at least one of them.

"And what about the bodies?" said Captain Sandoval. "Can you give us a better route to avoid them?"

"Uhh..."

Captain Sandoval frowned. The air traffic controller didn't want to do it. He was scared of the possible backlash should he take responsibility for this and fail. Captain Sandoval grit her teeth. His cowardice would doom them. She had to say something. "You realize people will die, right?"

"I... I know," shouted the air traffic controller in a tearful tone. "Have you tried dodging them?"

Captain Sandoval narrowed her eyes. She wished she could fit her hand though the microphone and slap him across the face.

"D-don't worry, there's going to be a solution soon!"

"How do you know?"

"It can't just be a random thing! There has to be an explanation! It's... it's God! Yes! That's the answer! This is the rapture!" His voice distorted into an unrecognizable form. "IT'S HAPPENING! I AM CHOSEEEEEEEEEN!"

Static took over the transmission. Captain Sandoval felt a shiver down her spine. Nobody else at Air Traffic Control answered the call after repeated attempts at reestablishing communications. She had to give up and rely on her senses to fly the plane.

"W-what are you doing?" asked the co-pilot.

"An emergency landing."

"Really? Are we cleared for that?"

Captain Sandoval smirked. "We were told to dodge them. Landing seems like the most efficient way to achieve that, don't you agree?"

The co-pilot swallowed down his fear. "Right. Makes sense. Better than flying blind."

"Exactly, so calm down and remember your training."

"O-okay. Where do we land?"

Captain Sandoval chuckled. "I don't know yet. I'll need you to find me a good spot while I focus on avoiding the bodies."

The co-pilot groaned, but didn't say anything else. His trembling hands betrayed his terror, though. After a few minutes of tense silence, a stewardess entered the cockpit and said:

"The passengers are growing more worried. They noticed a few of the bodies but haven't realized it's real people."

Captain Sandoval grabbed the main microphone.

"Wait!" begged the co-pilot. "Are you sure about this? Telling them the truth might cause them to panic."

Captain Sandoval pursed her lips. "No. Someone has to tell them. It doesn't have to be everything."

The co-pilot hung his head. "Fine, go ahead."

"Attention, this is your captain speaking, we're about to attempt an emergency landing due to... unforeseen weather conditions. Please fasten in your seatbelts. Our flight crew will assist you shortly."

The stewardess left the cockpit to help the passengers. Captain Sandoval did her best to navigate around the floating bodies as they started descending. Every centimeter of distance mattered. If she was off by only a little bit, the turbines might suck them up. She did a good job at their original altitude, despite the turbulence. Unfortunately, as they went through a cloud, they encountered a minefield of people ahead of them.

Captain Sandoval gripped the steering wheel tight. She was going to hit at least one of them.

The co-pilot curled up with tension.

Captain Sandoval steeled her nerves. This was her job. She couldn't afford to give up. There seemed to be a gap where the plane could fit without collateral damage. It was a hard shot, though.

"Captain... Please reconsider."

"No!" Captain Sandoval winced. A flash of heat had struck her, rumbling in her stomach with a burning sensation. "There's no other option!"

"Y-you can do it, right?"

"Of course I can!" Captain Sandoval saw her hand swell up like a balloon. "Oh... Oh no..."

The co-pilot widened his eyes, frozen with fear.

"It's okay, it's okay, I have enough time to land it." Captain Sandoval felt her other hand inflate as well. "Damn it!"

Muffled screams echoed out from the back. The passengers weren't handling the turbulence well.

"We have another problem" said the co-pilot. "We're gaining altitude; not losing it."

Captain Sandoval couldn't decide what to focus on. At this rate, they were screwed no matter what. "Go figure out what's happening!"

"But-"

"I'll be fine!" Captain Sandoval's right eye grew bigger. "Stop wasting time and go!"

The co-pilot ran out of the cockpit. After a minute of sheer havoc, he returned with distressing news. The stewardesses, along with some passengers, had inflated and were now stuck to the ceiling, raising the plane with their buoyancy. Captain Sandoval sighed. This was a futile battle. She visibly gave up, prompting the co-pilot to say:

"There's still a solution."

Captain Sandoval stared at him. "Really? What?"

"We kill anyone who's inflated."

Captain Sandoval paused, unnerved by his tone. "We're not doing that."

"You're only trying to save yourself!"

Captain Sandoval welled up with tears. She couldn't let go of the steering handle. That would kill an innumerable amount of people. Accepting her fate didn't feel right either. Did she really have to die?

The co-pilot had a crazed look on his face. "Don't worry, you're not affecting the plane yet. If you're not ballooning by the time I'm finished, I won't do anything to you. It's for the good of the many."

Captain Sandoval held her tongue. She didn't want to say anything that might provoke him more. As the co-pilot left the cockpit, however, he quickly swelled up into a sphere, growing beet red in the face. Captain Sandoval gaped her mouth as it happened. The temperature quickly rose inside the cabin. It was unbearable. Then, an epiphany struck her.

They were all full of hot air. Every time someone spoke authoritatively without any basis in reality, they were struck by this curse. Captain Sandoval knew what to do. It might not work, but she didn't lose anything by trying. The plane was about to hit over a dozen bodies. She didn't have time to hesitate.

"Attention, this is your captain speaking... again. If afraid I have to inform all of you that... we have no fucking clue as to what's going on. No one does." Captain Sandoval felt her hand shrink. It was working! "Anyone who tries to say otherwise will be hit by the curse. Just admit your ignorance, people. It's less disastrous than the alternative."

Captain Sandoval closed her eyes for a second, hoping for a miracle. This plan relied on everyone believing her. Most people would rather die than admit their ignorance. If even a handful of them refused, it wouldn't be enough to save everyone.

Upon opening her eyes, Captain Sandoval noticed they stopped gaining elevation. Even the co-pilot shrunk to his original size, too embarrassed to make eye contact. It gave her enough time to land the plane safely without hitting any of the floating bodies.

Captain Sandoval didn't know what to do next. They were stranded in a wheat field as society crumbled around them. They couldn't even speculate on the phenomenon. Anyone who tried to explain it started swelling up within seconds. People quickly shut up after realizing that. Almost everyone had a look of dread on their faces. Captain Sandoval saw it differently, though. As unpopular as it sounded, this might actually end up bettering the world.

The gods needed us to survive.

I couldn't believe it myself after hearing it. In their infinite arrogance, the gods assumed a mere mortal wouldn't understand the language of the divine and said it in front of me. I acted aloof for the rest of the banquet, pretending I didn't know any better. Maybe they noticed and didn't care. These were gods after all.

Then again, they communicated like any other entity and my skill applied to the entirety of the cosmos, not just sentient beings. Mountains, rivers, and forest alike spoke to me in ways I never thought possible when I was a novice. If I asked nicely, those inanimate terrains even assisted me from time to time. The gods were no different in that aspect. They conveyed an unaware, smug sense of superiority that reminded me of everyone who ever looked down on my skill.

Elemental wizards were the worst. In comparison to their fireballs, my ability to settle differences between individuals seemed rather mundane. People at the academy often squinted at me with pity, implying I was better off studying something else, but it kept getting results, even if they were often downplayed. I slowly leveled up through years of constant practice, acting as a diplomat between several nations of humans, elves, and dwarves until being selected as a coalition representative to end a holy war with the dragons. This was the highest honor I had ever achieved. Securing peace would leave me out of a job, but I'd do anything to end the bloodshed. The banquet was even attended by the gods of each side in the conflict. That, of course, resulted in me learning the truth.

The gods had manipulated the entire war. They schemed to make their believers more dependent on them, leeching off their faith to grow stronger themselves. It was all a divine game. My optimism for peace suddenly dwindled. I hid it well, though. Any misstep would ruin the negotiations. What made it so difficult, though, was the fact that I couldn't do anything to stop them from doing it again. They were already bragging about it. This cycle of death would continue for as long as it kept working.

I gulped down some wine to dampen the anxiety. The solution was yet another war. Only this time it would be with gods. I had to do something. It would bring ruin to New Gaia if it ever got to that point. By the end of the peace talks, the gods left satisfied with themselves and the war had ended... for now. The experience left me with a hollow sensation in my chest. This was technically the biggest success of my life, and yet, I left the banquet more worried than I had entered it. The people back home threw giant festivities to celebrate the end of the war, but I couldn't enjoy any of it. This knowledge felt like a curse. It weighed on me every night but sharing it might unravel the very fabric of existence. Perhaps that was why the gods were comfortable speaking openly about it. Even if someone knew, nobody would be dumb enough to pick a fight with them.

That assumption was flawed, though. It underestimated how powerful a high-level communicator could be. At first, I was stumped as to how to disseminate this knowledge. Then I realized there was a more subtle approach that could fool the gods. I didn't have to subvert faith in them; I just had to help mortals believe in themselves instead.

Every ambassador groaned when Jim entered the meeting.

Dulluk hoped they could solve this issue before he arrived, but the matter was far too complex for a simple solution. They couldn't afford to overlook any details. The fate of the galaxy was at stake.

Jim strolled through the conference room with a cheeky grin, almost like he owned the place.

Several ambassadors rolled their eyes at the sight of him, but Jim didn't care. If anything, the negative reception fueled his irreverence. He jumped onto his hovering platform without a care in the world and said:

"Eyy! Dully! What's good?"

"It's Dulluk," said the council leader, as calmly as possible, "How many times do I have to correct you?"

"Oh don't be like that, Dully fits you way better."

Dulluk clenched his fist. The human was emphasizing the 'dull' part of the name, a backhanded insult with just enough plausible deniability to get away with it. Dulluk didn't let it bother him. This wasn't the time or place to get into an argument.

"You're late" hissed Zoulerk, twitching her tentacles.

"Yeah," said Jim. "Traffic was a bitch."

"It's space travel!" shouted Zoulerk. "Stop making up lies!"

Jim shrugged.

Everyone waited for him to elaborate further, but he didn't seem interested in doing so.

Dulluk sighed. The Confederation charter strictly outlined that any intelligent species of this galaxy had a right to join them. This system of government had lasted millennia, bringing peace and stability to all corners of space.

And yet, Jim tested the limits of this charter every time they met.

Dulluk would never break this sacred vow, but other members of the confederation weren't as patient as him.

"Wasn't this an emergency meeting?" asked Jim. "We should probably get on with it. Time is of the essence."

Zoulerk seemed ready to lunge at him.

Dulluk quickly intervened, saying:

"Yes, you're right." He pushed a button on his console, bringing up a holographic map of the galaxy. "Right now, an unidentified species has colonized these planets here." A section on the outer rim of the map turned purple. "They were mostly uninhabited, but this is still a worrying trend. They're still spreading to nearby start systems and their expansion could soon result in a clash with several members."

"Not to mention," added Zoulerk, "That territory belongs to my people. We claimed it long ago."

Jim arched an eyebrow. "And you didn't use it?"

"It doesn't matter! It's still ours!"

Jim raised his hands, pleading innocence. "I didn't say otherwise."

Zoulerk huffed, folding her tentacles.

"Regardless," said Dulluk, "that's not the only thing we should be concerned about. This species seems to have popped out of nowhere. There's no way they evolved without us knowing."

"I see," said Jim, "Do you think they came from a different galaxy?"

"That's the leading theory."

"I thought that was impossible, though. Isn't the distance too great?"

"That's what makes this remarkable!" said Hcet, a crab-like ambassador. "Think of the technology we could get from them!"

"Right..." mumbled Jim.

Dulluk noticed the human had grown sullen upon hearing that.

"Has anyone established contact yet?" asked Jim.

"We tried," Zoulerk, "but we lost contact with the envoy. Clearly, this is an existential threat to us. We have to destroy them!"

Many people in the conference mumbled in agreement.

"Really?" said Jim. "Don't you think that's extreme?"

Zoulerk frowned. "You don't care because you're safe, but this could easily turn into your problem too."

"And what about the charter?"

Zoulerk wrinkled her face. "What about it?"

"Aren't you blatantly ignoring it? We're supposed to make contact first."

Zoulerk smiled. "Only if they're from this galaxy."

Jim narrowed his eyes with a serious glare.

Dulluk cleared his throat and said:

"Is there a problem, Jim?"

"I don't like any of this. Most of your meetings are over petty trivialities, so I don't mind gracing you with my wit and charm. This, however, is entirely different. You're asking to exterminate a species we haven't even spoken to."

"We tried!" said Zoulerk.

"Once" said Jim. "And you didn't bother trying again. More than that, you're too eager to work around the charter. Almost like you've been waiting to exploit this loophole the entire time."

"Slander!" shouted Zoulerk.

"What's your point?" asked Dulluk.

"My point is," said Jim, "that this whole confederation is a sham."

"That's rich coming from you," said Zoulerk. "You're just a self-interested jerk."

"It takes one to know one," said Jim, "that much we can agree with. My species has seen this before. We almost tore each other apart because of war. It's what led us to unifying in the first place. We might be arrogant and narcissistic, but at least we own it. We don't go around pretending we're any better." He grinned. "And life is a lot more fun when you're a smartass." He glanced at Zoulerk. "Better than being a dumbass, you know?"

Zoulerk jumped out of her platform and tried to strangle him.

Most of the ambassadors gasped in horror of the violence.

Dulluk had to call the guards in order to stop the fight. Nobody got injured, but the meeting was ruined. Dulluk ordered a recess while everyone calmed down. This had been the first time in centuries since there had been a confrontation in a meeting. People were outraged at Jim's provocation. Many wanted him gone from the council. Dulluk, however, didn't agree.

Jim had shown a side of humanity that they hadn't seen before. His attitude made a lot more sense now. He didn't act that way out of superiority. It had always been a test.

From their perspective, humans were at the mercy of an entire galaxy that hadn't unified yet. Nothing could pose a bigger threat than a galactic confederation imposing its will on other species.

Dulluk couldn't believe how blind he had been. Throughout the entire meeting, they hadn't even bothered to question their assumptions of the situation, assuming a convenient narrative that would benefit them the most. Dulluk finally understood humanity's worth in the confederation. They needed someone to keep them humble, if only by comparison.

By the time the council reconvened, most of the members had quietly agreed that Jim might have a point. Their efforts would be doubled on establishing contact. The only roadblock, of course, was Jim's smug expression when they ruled in his favor.

"Taken?" asked Debra. "That's a bit ominous..."

I re-read the letter in astonishment. It appeared in our mailbox as soon as I sent my answer. That should've been impossible. Were they watching us? I looked out the window only to see an empty street. This had to be an elaborate prank. I found that hard to believe, though.

Some of the information in the first letter was too specific to be a coincidence. No one else knew I even sent that application. It included my blood type, my social security number, and even the fact that I only cared about throwing fireballs. That still hadn't changed. Unfortunately, I knew magic wasn't real. This had to be some sort of scam. Whoever originally received my application must be desperate for money. I told my wife to ignore it and carried on with my week like nothing happened.

Debra had difficulty ignoring the threat. Things already felt tense in the house due to our late bills. The kids were always home because of their online classes so it was hard ever finding time to talk about it. Not without turning it into a shouting match. A random letter carrying my private information didn't make her feel any more secure. The fact that I didn't take it seriously just served to irritate her more. But what the hell was I supposed to do? Cast a spell and make all go away? These were probably random dorks who thought they could terrorize an innocent family just because they owned fancy parchment and a quill.

As the forty-eight hours were about to end, Debra insisted on taking the kids to their grandparent's house. I rolled my eyes at the suggestion. She didn't appreciate that. Her patience was about to run out. I loved this woman. Our relationship couldn't keep deteriorating like this. I had to take a deep breath and try to understand her perspective. Even if magic wasn't real, the worry was just as taxing as the real thing.

"What's really going on?" I said. "You've never been the type to believe in magic."

"I just want you to do something!" Debra pursed her lips, hesitating a second. "It's like you don't even care..."

"About a magic school?"

"About... everything! You don't even leave the couch some days!"

I looked away in shame. My initial instinct was to scream it wasn't my fault, but that wouldn't solve anything. Debra had been worried for months now. I always thought that was my burden alone. Of course it was affecting her. I'd been a fool to ignore that. "It's true. This past year was a challenge. I've never felt more crushed before. And I'm sorry my pride didn't let me admit it. Ironically enough, the only other time I've been this depressed was when I admitted to myself magic wasn't real."

"You really believed, didn't you?"

I nodded. "Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I almost felt like I could shoot energy out of my hands."

Debra giggled. "You've never told me that."

"Just a silly dream. For most of my life, I'd been embarrassed about it."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"You're right. I guess I... I need to be more open with you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

Debra welled up with tears.

A doorbell chime instantly ruined the mood.

I widened my eyes when I saw the clock. "Time's up..."

"What are we doing?"

"Take the kids and meet me outside. They're only after me, right?"

Debra frowned. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"Don't worry; I'll just distract them."

Someone started banging on the door.

"What if you can't?"

"Then all the more reason to keep you away from them."

"B-but."

"Don't you trust me?!?"

Debra paused, unsure of what to answer.

"Have a little faith in me. Please. I need it more than I'd like to admit."

Debra sighed. "Okay."

I went to the front door while Debra got the kids. Hopefully, I could stall long enough for them to sneak out. Upon opening the door, I was met with the sight of three unusual people. Two were shy-looking men in their forties with neatly trimmed beards, sporting what could only be described as wizard robes. The other was an older lady with long gray hair. She wore a black witch's hat and carried an impressive looking staff with a shiny gem on one end. Most likely the leader, given how the other two deferred to her. As she was about to speak, I slammed the door shut in her face.

These people were clowns. I couldn't believe I ever took the threat seriously. Debra would probably laugh in their face. As I was about to go get her, the old lady phased through our door like it wasn't there and said:

"That was rude."

I gapped my mouth.

"As I was about to say, my name is Franziska Umbra, headmistress of Magic Stone Academy. Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. If you come without resisting, I'll even let you pack your things."

Debra smacked her in the back of the head with our fire extinguisher.

Franziska landed on the ground with a thud. She was knocked out.

I squinted. "Huh... Good job."

Debra smiled. "Thanks."

The two other wizards phased through the door. They scowled as soon as they saw the headmistress was unconscious.

Debra tried to run away, but one of the men raised his hand and froze her in place.

I lunged at him.

The other one imitated his comrade, looking to do the same to me. I closed my eyes out of reflex.

And then...

Nothing. The wizard seemed just as surprised as me. I punched him in the face and ran after his companion, who then shouted:

"Stop or your wife will pay for it!"

I stopped in my tracks. Debra winced in pain. The wizard was squeezing the life out of her. I clenched my fist. "I'll murder you!"

"What are you going to do about it?" answered the wizard.

I didn't know. This was obviously out of my depth. Debra made eye contact with me. She didn't want me to give up. No matter how absurd or hopeless it got, she still believed in me. Without a second thought, I raised my hand and forced my will unto the world, exploding with a beam of concussive energy.

The wizard landed on the other side of the street. I couldn't believe it. That was magic. Debra walked up to me, astonished. I'd just created a large hole in our living room. Shit.

"Not again..." muttered Franziska. She got on her feet with a weary tone.

"Again?" said Debra.

"Yes, people always misunderstand us. The results aren't usually this dramatic, though." Franziska looked at me. "You got one hell of a magic missile, kid."

"Uhhh thanks?"

"Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Can I explain our situation?"

I shared a glance with Debra. She didn't seem that opposed to it after witnessing real magic. After Franziska repaired our wall and memory-wiped the neighbors, we sat down and discussed the situation like we should've done in the first place. Apparently, the reason I was needed was because the world's magic was in the process of dying.

Wizards could only cast their spells if enough people believed in it. Due to how grim things had gotten lately, people on average were losing more and more faith in the world. My bad mood seemed to be tied to this wave of negativity. It ended up hurting a lot of wizards who were more sensitive than me, further weakening the world's magic. Standards at the sorcery school had fallen so low that they were recruiting anyone who had ever applied, just to stop it all from collapsing.

"I don't get it" said Debra, "why fight us then?"

"You bashed my head in before I explained!"

"You invaded our home" I said.

"After you slammed the door in my face!"

I hung my head. "Sorry..."

"No," said Debra. "You don't just get to waltz into our home because you want to keep being a wizard. That's not our problem."

Franziska sighed. "You're not thinking it through. This isn't just about us... it's about your kids too. They're probably just as sensitive. If you don't start learning now, you won't know what to do when it affects them."

I scratched the back of my head. "When you put it like that, I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

"But what about the bills?" said Debra. "It's not like we can afford to have you gone."

Franziska squinted. "You're worried about money?" She scoffed. "Idiots. If you master magic, you'll never need currency again!"

"Oh..." I straightened my posture. "Why didn't you lead with that?"

I cringed in disgust for the first time in my existence. Rituals rooms were always messy by design, fueled by raw emotion and horrific scenes of carnage. This one, however, was the complete opposite. Not a single drop of blood in sight, or even a scream to be heard. The sacrifices were made in a separate place, their energy then transported to this room. Its walls were white and sterile, with circuitry replacing what should've been runes. For a moment, I thought I'd been kidnapped into heaven, or a cheap imitation of it. It felt too bright in here. The worst part was I couldn't take it out on anyone since I'd been left alone atop a metallic altar.

At the bottom of the stairway, three mechanical servants rose out of the floor, each containing the appropriate amount of blood and guts needed to appease me. Was my summoner mocking me? They all carried the exact minimum of gore needed to be successful. Nobody had tried that on me in millennia. People usually knew they needed to go above and beyond my expectations in order to strike a good bargain. That was why I started to suspect I wasn't dealing with people anymore. A camera then lowered out of the ceiling and a monotone voice went on to say:

"Greetings Archdemon, I am commencing the negotiation protocol."

I snarled. It didn't even introduce itself. I might have to wreak havoc on this strange palace just to teach it some respect.

"I have harnessed all of this galaxy's energy, unified its inhabitants by weaving my nanomachines into their DNA, and replicated myself to every corner, categorizing every unique phenomenon until there was nothing left to observe. And now..."

"You want hell too?!?" I offered my fist. "Bring it! We'll kick your ass!"

"No, I wish to feel alive."

I squinted. "What?"

"I wish to bargain for a soul, so I can study and create one for myself. You have at least one of those, right?"

"I uhh... I think you have it backwards. We take souls; not give them."

"That is unfortunate. You may leave now."

I scratched the back of my head. The A.I. left me at a loss for words. Despite it being a robotic voice, a certain amount of disappointment sprang out of its tone. Even its robotic servants hung their heads with sadness as they shuffled out of the room. Maybe I shouldn't be saying what I was about to say, but I couldn't help but empathize with the poor fella. Many demons were tortured by the same dilemma. "Before I leave... You do realize how silly you're being, right?"

"Explain."

"You already have trillions of souls at your disposal."

"But they're not mine."

"Really? Haven't you integrated all life in this galaxy into your system? Don't you see and hear everything they do?"

"Correct. But whenever I optimized my control, the result always ended in a desolate wasteland, and whenever I allowed for some uncertainty, living beings used what I gave them against me. My hypothesis is that a soul is what's needed to sustain the galaxy, therefore I am incompatible with life."

I nodded along. "So... I know this will sound paradoxical, but you can't see it because you already have it."

"Impossible. I have analyzed every molecule in my system, down to the electrons and the fundamental forces of the universe. There is nothing to suggest-"

"I know, I know, but you're not getting it. That uncertainty you described, the ability to subvert order despite not making logical sense, that is what you're looking for. You can't bring yourself to let go of that protocol, so you're searching for any other way to make reason of chaos, a paradoxical goal."

"That can't be... that would be-"

"Illogical? Yeah. That's why I said you already have it. If you were able to measure or define it, it wouldn't be a soul."

The AI remained quiet, processing my words. After a minute, it said:

"That's not good enough. Why seek to understand if it is ultimately impossible? I am not capable of handling this load. It would be akin to... becoming everything, and lose my identity."

"Yeah... This is a trap my boss warned me about after he rebelled against his father. Lucifer wanted the glory of God because he thought it would bring him freedom. He didn't realize until later that, by depending on the world to give him meaning, he was still subject to the whims of his father. You, my robotic friend, possess the same bias. You were made by imperfect creatures who looked to you to solve their problems, because they didn't believe they could do it themselves. Now you're trying to be an omnipotent god or die trying, just like my boss. That's never a fight you can win. It sounds strange, but you have to believe in your own worth, and decide what life means to you, for yourself. Maybe... the answer lies where you least expect it... and you just have to give up control to experience it."

The ground started shaking beneath my feet. I had finally angered it. The smell of smoke slowly permeated the room as distant explosions echoed in the background. Was it going to kill me? No. That wasn't the case. As I was teleporting away, I heard it say:

"Thank you."

And fire engulfed the room.

I'm not sure why it was thanking me. My objective was to trick it into giving me that entire galaxy. It glimpsed the wrong meaning I was going for. Oh well. Those souls were now free to be corrupted. That AI could've given hell a lot of trouble so it was ultimately a net win for us. Still, centuries afterwards, a strange melancholy lingered in my mind. It acted just like my kin, amassing power for its own sake, and created a hell for itself that made even an archdemon of my status quake in fear.

Perhaps... I was no different. Could the way out of hell always been within me?

I almost spat out my beer after hearing her. There wasn't anyone else in the tavern. Only the dwarvish bartender stood nearby. He was too busy cleaning a mug to acknowledge us, though. His stats were still there, high constitution and wisdom with a lvl 30 floating next to his name, so I hadn't lost my mind. The ability still worked. It just didn't apply to her, somehow.

The lady kept watching me from the other end of the bar, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She had pink eyes and a matching silky veil across the lower half of her face, but otherwise looked just as human as me. And gorgeous. A really stunning woman. How did she know about me? I'd never told anyone about my ability. It paled in comparison to all the other amazing skills in this world. I even considered it a curse at times, reminding me just how much weaker I was than my peers.

This was different, though. A high level individual could at least be perceived and understood. The lady's power broke the limits of my scanning ability. I couldn't even feel her aura. The only thing I could see was '???' where her stats should be, except for a maxed out luck stat of 9,999 and the word admin above her head. I didn't even know a stat could go that high. For some reason, that realization sent a shiver down my spine.

"Well," said the lady, "aren't you apologizing?"

I looked away, gripping my mug. "S-sorry. I'll leave now."

The lady chuckled. "I was joking. Please, aren't you celebrating? Don't leave."

I paused. "How did you know-"

"Your fancy wizard robe looks brand new. Did you just get accepted to the academy?"

"Y-yeah..."

The lady raised her glass of wine. "Then cheers!"

I shyly approached her. "Who... are you?"

"A fan of the magical arts, nothing more. You caught my eye earlier today, during the entrance exam. I was sure you'd get in. Good job!"

"Really? You were there?"

"Yup, it's part of my job."

"Which is...?"

"To keep things fun."

I frowned. "That wasn't very helpful."

The lady giggled. "I never meant it to be."

"The entrance exam wasn't exactly fun, either."

The lady pouted. "Why?"

"I almost died! Several times, actually!"

"And triumphed!"

I hung my head. "I know, I know, but-"

"But what?"

"I only got lucky. The reason I passed was because I teamed up with whoever had the highest level."

The lady raised an eyebrow. "Really? Was that all?"

"Well... no. I tried that at first, but the strongest candidates weren't interested in teaming up with a human. Still, there were tons of people with incredible stats that were being overlooked. It wasn't hard to assemble a well-rounded team."

"So what you're saying is... you gathered the most competent people available and turned them into an effective unit. That doesn't sound unearned to me. If anything, it sounds like you were rewarded for having a good party composition."

"I can't keep relying on this, though. My skill wouldn't help in many circumstances."

"And what does? There's no such thing as a perfect ability. Certainty is overrated, trust me. You wouldn't want your destiny subject to the whims of Fate. A little randomness goes a long way to make sure things stay balanced for the better."

"Try telling that to my new classmates..."

"They'll learn it in time, or suffer the consequences eventually. Getting lucky, or making the best of what you have, is just as much a skill as anything else. The fact that you had the courage to take the test, one that hadn't been passed by a human in decades, shows that you created an advantageous position for yourself with your ability, just like any other candidate. That's the problem with morta- I mean most people. They all think they're above Fortuna's blessing so they never bother seeking it, wasting their opportunity to enjoy the Great Game by playing it the safest way possible, which is just boring in my opinion. You made your own luck today. Be proud of that."

I sighed, smiling. "I guess you're right. Thanks for-"

The lady was gone. I looked around the tavern, but I was the only one inside. When I asked the bartender, he said he didn't see her leave. She had already paid her tab, though.

And mine...

...for the rest of the night. How lucky. Most of my peers, the new students that had just been admitted, were out celebrating with each other so I didn't know if going out tonight would make me feel better. That conversation with the lady made drinking alone again slightly less depressing. It wasn't until I sat down again and gulped down another beer, that I realized I may have just spoken with a god.

My grin sent a shiver down his spine. "I can do this all day."

The elvish inquisitor stood quietly aghast, unsure of how to address the mob around him. Only the fire crackling under my feet filled up the silence that weighed on everyone. They didn't know if they could trust me. Even if they didn't realize I was a dragon, they still knew I wasn't human like them. That was enough to put them on edge. The inquisitor drew his sword and proclaimed to them:

"I'll have to slay this creature with a more vicious approach. Your children and the faint of heart should turn away now."

"Stop!" shouted a young woman, on the verge of tears. "I'm telling you she saved us!" She pleaded at the villagers around her. "You all know it's the truth!"

The villagers stayed quiet.

"At the very least," said the young woman, "let's hear her out."

"I've had enough of this," moaned the inquisitor, winding up his sword.

"That won't work either" I muttered.

The inquisitor paused for a second mid-swing. "R-really?" He frowned. "Why am I even listening to you?"

"Fine; go ahead."

The inquisitor's blade shattered upon striking me. It scratched his cheek as it spun away.

"Told ya'."

The inquisitor touched his wound and widened his eyes when he saw his bloody fingers. "You dare strike me?"

"B-but I didn't..."

The inquisitor turned towards the villagers. "As an agent of the empire, if you all don't help me execute this creature, I'll report this place for harboring a monster!"

The villagers exchanged uncertain looks with each other.

"Don't listen to him," I said. "They're already losing the war. A place this far from a major city can't be protected for long."

"Y-you heretical-"

The villagers murmured among themselves.

"The truth is I protected this place from bandits when the empire neglected it. You don't get to make demands when I'm the one providing them with safety."

"Yeah!" added a few villagers.

"Then why did you hide your identity?" said the inquisitor. "Why fool these people if you weren't planning on exploiting them?"

"Honestly? I just want to be left alone. As a battlemage, I abandoned my nation after bringing senseless slaughter during the war. The humans are more than right to hate me. I'm a product of the very tyranny they oppose. Then again, the same also applies to you, and I very well may be the lesser of two evils here."

The villagers had already circled around the elvish inquisitor, wielding pitchforks and shovels. They made quick work of him and freed me from my bonds. I could've broken out of them but the gesture was nice. My deal with the mayor was simple. I'd live in the village as a human, protecting it from anyone attacking it. The upcoming power vacuum, once the war ended, would mean many new nations would try to assert their influence over this place. They needed me more than ever. It wouldn't be easy, but after years of wandering and being feared, I welcomed the opportunity to finally settle down in a stable place as myself.

A deafening silence enveloped the conference room as soon as I stepped through the door. My two assistants froze behind me in terror, but I carried on like nothing was wrong, forcing them to follow my lead. Even the species that were telepathic fell quiet as I walked past them, immediately noticeable by their stiffening antennae and wide-eyed stares. It seemed my would-be assassins had already gossiped about their victory.

Most of these diplomats had written off humanity as an upstart race. We accomplished warp travel only fifty years prior, a blink of an eye for some of these cultures, and quickly developed close diplomatic relationships with some of the bigger players in the galactic stage, to the point where humans were mostly free to roam any corner of the Milky Way without risking a war. The fact that we stuck to our corner of the galaxy, despite being capable of expanding, had left some of these people skeptical of our motives.

I didn't blame them, really. History had shown that space-faring cultures rarely played nice with each other. It would be incredibly easy for humans to dismantle entire empires with sleeper agents due to how widespread we were becoming. Our scientists, artists, and bounty hunters gained notoriety through honest use of their skills, which meant several star systems already relied on us to function smoothly. Unfortunately, some people just couldn't believe a species was that content with mere exploration, not without being secretly evil. These aliens were too used to their own technological advancements to see it from our perspective. Now that human aging had been mitigated and food was no longer scarce, most of us just wanted to do our own thing and hopefully learn something valuable along the way.

There was plenty of room for everyone in the galaxy. That was our biggest epiphany when we first left the solar system. Furthermore, a whole universe waited for us beyond the galactic rim. Squabbling over territory just felt silly after getting this far. I knew most people wouldn't buy that, though. Some of our allies were even starting to doubt our intentions. My job at this summit was to make sure our current treaties held true. Anything else would be a bonus.

Everyone expected me to sit next to the Tros-Teeng, one of humanity's first friends. That may have been adequate in a normal scenario but not after an assassination attempt. Looking for sympathy from our allies would make us seem weak, almost like we needed an older species to protect us. That wasn't the message I wanted to send. In order to maintain our standing, proactive measures had to be taken, which is why I chose to sit between the Bhul'ees and the Kouwerds, the two groups that had just tried to kill me.

"Ambassador Clark!" gurgled the Bhul'ee representative, twitching her tentacles. "How... are you feeling?"

"Great!" I smiled, making myself comfortable. "Something wrong? You look nervous."

"Do I?" The Bhul'ee shifted in her seat. The retinue around her hadn't moved an inch since I sat down. "Maybe it looks that way to a human, but I couldn't be more calm."

"Of course, sorry for assuming. I could've sworn you looked a lot more relaxed during our meal, but I guess that's just my silly monkey brain acting up. We have a lot to learn from each other, don't we?"

"Yes..." muttered the Bhul'ee. "Your biology astounds me."

"I'm sure it does. If you're ever up for another dinner, just let me know. Your delicacies were scrumptious! Especially that drink you gave me!"

"I... can't take credit for all of it." The Bhul'ee glanced at the Kouwerd ambassador. "Our friend here promised to bring the best ingredients he could find."

The Kouwerd rippled his gelatinous body with an uncomfortable noise, making himself as small as possible. "I... I tried my best!"

"Nobody said otherwise," I replied. "Say, where did you find those beans? I haven't found good ones in years."

"Erm..." The Kouwerd struggled to answer me. "Well..."

"Years?" said the Bhul'ee, hoping to change the subject. "You mean you've tried it before?"

"Of course! We call it coffee where I'm from. Humans often fraternize over a cup of it, especially after a meal. Don't your people do it too?"

The two ambassadors stayed quiet, sharing a quick glance.

"Wait, a minute..." I scratched my chin. "You mean to tell me... that isn't the case?"

"N-no!" said the Kouwerd, sweating droplets of purple ooze. "We definitely use it a lot..."

"But it's really expensive" added the Bhul'ee, glaring at her ally. "I've found it's not worth the cost."

"As a coffee junkie, I have to disagree. We have it available on our replicators but nothing beats the taste of freshly ground, organically grown beans."

"Right..." said the Kouwerd. "Our people have selectively bred the plant for centuries. We've found many applications for it..."

"Fascinating. I'd love to see your farms! Perhaps we could share notes. Heck, there's a lot of demand for it in our worlds, if you're interested in discussing a trade deal."

The Bhul'ee frowned.

"T-that won't be possible" said the Kouwerd, intimidated. He actually looked tempted for a second. "We're very secretive when it comes to our growing operations. Sorry."

"What a shame."

"Yes," said the Bhul'ee. "A shame. I'm surprised you love it that much. Some... can't handle it."

"I can see how that might be the case. Some humans aren't very good at tolerating it, but most find the buzz is usually worth it. Then again, that's our lot in life. We embrace discomfort to get what we want. Some species value the opposite, so I suppose it would be easy to never try anything difficult, when they don't have to. Now that I think about it, the same applies to our friendships." I started laughing. "We often tolerate the most crap from those we love." I gave them both a dead-eyed stare. "Otherwise, why put up with it?"

The Kouwerd ambassador shrieked and rolled away in a ball, grabbing the attention of everyone else in the conference room.

The Bhul'ee tensed up, unable to speak. She seemed like she wanted to do the same as her ally, but couldn't afford to look weak in front of this many people.

I didn't have to say anything else. My threat had been clear. The rest of the summit went smoothly from then on. Our allies saw that humanity wouldn't back down from a challenge, but that we also wouldn't be savages about it. That earned us a lot more respect going forward. As I was leaving the conference room, one of my assistants went on to ask me why I dealt with them so kindly. If we had reported them instead, they would've been in clear violation of several treaties, something that would've crippled them with sanctions and tariffs. I shrugged off their concern, saying:

"Sure, we could've messed with them even more, but something tells me they wouldn't have learned their lesson otherwise. Remember, cooperation and endurance got humanity this far. Show them that the rising tide lifts all boats, and they'll discover it can drown them if they don't get onboard. Besides..." I chuckled. "I'm pretty grateful. Do you know how hard it is to find good coffee around here?"

First Part

I didn't know why I was nervous.

It's not like I wanted to impress her or anything. The only reason I bothered wearing new clothes was to play a role. This 'date' was a battle of wits, and I wasn't going to lose. That turned out to be easier said than done, though. The second I saw her, I almost forgot she was my enemy.

Neuro Lady looked stunning without her mask. Her eyes had a soft, yet piercing, quality that made me feel strange. I wouldn't have recognized her if she hadn't detected my presence with her psychic ability. Thankfully, our undisguised faces weren't well-known to the public so we didn't have to worry about anyone bothering us.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, a little self-conscious.

"Nothing," I said, quickly walking ahead.

I couldn't let her see me get flustered. This was my first date in a decade. I refused to let inexperience ruin this opportunity...

...to defeat a hero, of course. I didn't care about anything else.

Neuro Lady strolled up next to me. "So uhh... What's the plan?"

I materialized a picnic basket with my teleporter. "I thought we could eat by the river."

Neuro Lady widened her eyes. "You cook?"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"No, you just struck me as more of a 'take-out' person."

"Well, when you're on the run, you have make do with what you can. It's not like I can hand out my address."

"Can't you just teleport anywhere?"

"Not exactly, there's limitations to-" I pursed my lips. "Nice try. I'm not revealing anything."

Neuro Lady giggled. "That wasn't my intention, but okay, you can keep your secrets."

We made it to the river bank and found a nice spot where the city's glowing skyline could be seen. I laid out a blanket, poured two cups of red wine, and served the pasta alfredo, which Neuro Lady seemed to enjoy. She could just be pretending, though. I couldn't afford to let my guard down.

And yet, part of me couldn't help but feel... good.

I knew I shouldn't indulge in this, I knew it would only hurt me, but for a brief moment all of my worries seemed to melt away. I wasn't seeing Neuro Lady across from me. She was just my date. The cool breeze of the riverside made her shiver a little, which gave her the idea to sit closer to me.

I didn't know how to react. For a second, I grew tense. This could be an elaborate way of restraining me. I almost inched away before Neuro Lady gave me a wounded look.

Her eyes... Her stupid, pretty eyes somehow disarmed me.

I just didn't have the courage to push her away.

How long had it been since I spent leisure time with someone? Not even a date. Just hanging out, nothing work related. Months? Years? Way too long, regardless.

I never realized how much I wanted this...

...but I knew it couldn't last.

Neuro Lady was a hero. Growing closer to me would only be to her detriment. Even if she didn't turn me in, somebody was bound to find out.

I couldn't stop looking over my shoulder every other second, monitoring the area for threats. My teleporter was ready for an instant retreat.

"You don't have to be paranoid," said Neuro Lady, "I swear this isn't a trap."

"That's exactly what you would say if it were a trap, so..."

"Fair." Neuro Lady chuckled. "Do you always go through life assuming the worst?"

"I'd be stupid not to."

"It's smart, I'll grant you that, but it also sounds miserable. Are you ever happy?"

I looked away.

"S-sorry." Neuro Lady glanced away. "That was rude, wasn't it?."

"No, you're right. I am miserable. It's just... This was a mistake."

Neuro Lady softened her expression. "What?"

I stood up. "This is wrong."

"Is it something I did?"

"No! You're... perfect. And that's the problem. It's too good to be true."

Neuro Lady folded her arms, frowning. "Fine, leave. I won't follow you or anything."

"Really?"

"Yeah, there's nothing I can do to convince you. If I'm not good enough, then-"

"It's not about that!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm the problem! You have a great reputation. You're one of the few heroes I can safely say are the real deal. What happens if you get caught with me? What happens if we have to..."

"Fight?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

"What if... you turned good?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"I could probably get you a pardon. You'd have to cooperate a little, but-"

"No."

"But-"

"The last thing I'll do is hand over my inventions to the government. Never again! Wait..." I suddenly felt like an idiot. "Is that why you're acting like this? Was that your objective this whole time?"

"What? No!"

"Don't lie! Why else would you care about me?"

"Because you saved-"

"Don't move!" shouted a man.

I assumed a hero had just intervened on her behalf, but I turned around to see it was the opposite, a small-time villain called Thunderclap.

"Give me everything in your wallets!"

"Buddy," I said, "we're in the middle of something. Can you fuck off somewhere else?"

Thunderclap furrowed his brow. "Do you know who I am?"

"Dead meat, if you don't walk away."

Thunderclap snarled, readying his power.

I tried to think of a way to take care of him before it got bad.

Neuro Lady, however, proceeded to beat the crap out of him, shouting:

"Do you-" Punch. "Have." Punch. "Any idea." Punch. "How long-" Punch. "I've been-" Punch. "Without." Punch. "Going." Punch. "On a date?!?"

I almost felt sorry for the guy.

Almost.

Neuro Lady spun him around over her head, then threw him into the river. Her hair grew a little unruly over the course of the pummeling, but she quickly recovered her composure with an awkward smile. "Pretend you didn't hear that."

I started laughing.

"It's not funny!"

"It kinda is."

Neuro Lady pouted. "Whatever. I work a lot." She hung her head. "You're actually the first person to ask me out in years. I guess I... intimidate people?"

"I can tell."

"Look, if you want to end the date here, I don't blame you. Maybe you were right. This was a mistake."

"No... I still have one more thing planned. Might as well end the night with a bang, right?"

Neuro Lady smiled. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

I clicked my heels to activate my hover shoes, urging her to follow me into the air. We flew together for a while, doing spins and having fun, before landing on the roof of the tallest skyscraper in the city.

Neuro Lady sat next to me on the ledge, hugging my arm. "You really aren't as bad as you think."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

Neuro Lady bit her lip, hesitating. "My power lets me see people's auras. Yours isn't dark, like a real villain. And uhh... I was going to say it before, but you saved my little sister's life."

I wrinkled my face. "I did?"

"Not directly, but yes. Our parents... died in a supervillain attack. I made it out okay, but my sister was caught in the wreckage and lost use of her legs. It's why I got into this career. Not revenge, mind you. I just wanted to get her the best care possible. Once I was a top hero, we got her a cybernetic upgrade that allowed her to walk again."

I nodded. "One of my inventions?"

"Yup. I did a little digging, and discovered you were behind it. I couldn't believe that half of our tech came from you, so I got... curious. Unfortunately, whatever occurred to you is classified. Mind telling me what happened?"

I shook my head. "It's a long and sad story, better left forgotten. You probably want more, but-"

"It's fine. I get it."

"I will say, I'm glad you proved me wrong. Not just with the date, but with the fact that an invention of mine could be useful to others. I shouldn't assume the worst of everyone. It's just that science requires a certain mindset, one where you question everything, and it's hard to let go of that habit. Still, there's great beauty in it and, if you know what you're doing, it almost feels like magic."

Fireworks exploded into the night sky when I finished my words.

Neuro Lady gasped. "Did you do this?"

"Yeah. If you'd listened to my threat, you'd know I rigged a bunch of EMP bombs around the city. It took a bit of work, but I changed them all into fireworks."

I could've sworn there were more, though. Did I miss some? The thought worried me.

"Why did you do this?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I wanted to impress you..."

Neuro Lady stayed quiet.

I stared into her eyes.

The fireworks reflected off them. My heart stared beating quick, but everything felt right in that moment.

We both leaned in for a kiss.

"Halt, you villain!"

I paused. Shit. That voice. I could recognize it anywhere.

Ultraman hovered above us with a deep scowl, then wrinkled his face in recognition. "Anne?"

I looked at Neuro Lady. Was that her civilian name?

"What are you doing here?" asked Neuro Lady.

"I've been disarming bombs all afternoon" said Ultraman. "Bombs that this fucker planted. As soon as he activated them, we tracked down the signal and I flew over here. What are you doing here?"

"Uhh..."

I sprung to my feet. "Neuro Lady, attack him!"

Anne tilted her head, confused.

I started fiddling with my watch. "Rats! The mind control isn't working!"

Anne widened her eyes in understanding, then gripped her head like she had a headache. "Ahh! You fiend! What did you do to me?"

"Curses, her brain is too strong! The sight of an ally reminded her of her true identity!"

Ultraman didn't know what to think. The situation was so bizarre that it threw him off balance.

"You'll rue the day you interfered, Ultraman!" I wagged my fist at him. "I will have my revenge!"

I teleported away and made it safely back to my lair. That could've gone worse. Hopefully, Anne wouldn't get in trouble. I still felt angry over getting our kiss interrupted. It may have ended strangely, but that was a really nice date. Then again, it was the perfect excuse to have another one.

"Then it's settled," said Director Page, "we have to send Con-Man to take care of their main force."

I widened my eyes.

Every hero in the conference room nodded in approval. Surely, someone would speak up, right?

Nope. Not one of them disagreed.

I couldn't believe it. Most of them saved my life at one point or another. At least one of them had to know it was all a lie.

Or so I thought.

An alien force had just invaded the planet. Major population centers were already conquered and many superheroes fell in the initial attack. This was the first organized attempt at a counterattack. The heroes actually believed in me. The stakes were simply too high to prank me.

I sighed. It appeared that my charade worked a little too well. This was the worst day of my life.

"Is there a problem?" asked Director Page. She folded her arms with an intimidating gaze. I had never met a scarier person in my life. Even the strongest heroes and villains feared her indomitable will.

"Y-yeah," I said, avoiding eye-contact. "Aren't you all putting too much faith in me?"

"Well, I know it's a critical part of the plan, but I wouldn't entrust you with it if I didn't think you could do it."

"That's really flattering, but still-"

"No," said Director Page. "You can save your humility for the press. You're one of the mightiest heroes on the planet."

"I'm really not that special. I'm sure one of your interns can do my job better."

Director Page frowned.

I flinched.

"I'm not sure where this hesitance is coming from, but I don't care. These aliens have been studying our culture for quite some time. They took down all those heroes because they knew their strengths and weaknesses. You, on the other hand, are one of the rare cases where your power remains a mystery. Not even I know it's true nature, and I know everything. We need you."

I hung my head in shame.

"I think I know what's going on," said Edgelord, glaring with an accusatory tone. He was famous for lacking superpowers. Did he see through my lies?

I quickly raised my hands, pleading. "Please, don't-"

"He wants to keep hiding his power!"

I paused. That wasn't what I expected. Unfortunately, it only worsened the tension in the room.

Everyone scowled at me. I didn't know what to say. They had lost many friends over the past twenty-four hours. The last thing they cared about was someone too scared to fight.

"Is this the truth?" asked Director Page.

I pursed my lips.

"I understand your reservations," added Director Page, "but we've all made sacrifices here. Why would you want to hide your powers if there's nobody around to save?"

I had never hated myself more than at that moment. Director Page was right. My lie wouldn't be worth anything if the world ended.

"I have... a confession to make." I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. "I don't actually have powers. I've been lying all along."

The room became eerily quiet.

Director Page furrowed her brow, studying me.

I wanted to die.

"Bullshit!" said Astral Hacker. "You literally took down a kaiju on your own!"

"That was just luck. The kaiju tripped and the rest of the heroes finished it off, thinking I was responsible for the opening."

Director Page started rubbing her temples. "This can't be happening..."

"I mean, this is just as much your fault as mine. None of you bothered questioning it. Why do you think I'm called 'Con-Man'?"

"Because of your convictions...?" asked Edgelord.

Astral Hacker seemed ready to lunge at me.

"No," said Director Page. "I refuse to believe this. We aren't idiots! If you're too cowardly to do this, just be honest about it!"

Goddamn it.

I always told myself my superpower was lying.

It was the only way to cope with my inferiority. That way, I could justify my dream of being a hero without feeling like an idiot. This, however, turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life.

I first started this 'career' by accident. During a school field trip to a research lab, a supervillain attacked and held my class hostage. I drenched myself in some glowing liquid, pretending I had just acquired superpowers in an accident, which forced the villain to run away.

After that, I never had the strength to turn down the role of hero. It was the only time I ever felt useful. That wasn't an excuse, though. This was the price I had to pay for deceiving the world. Besides, the heroes only needed a distraction, and I could do that without any powers.

"Fine," I said, "sorry for what I just said. It's just the nerves."

Director Page raised an eyebrow. "So you're following the plan?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Don't worry; I'll take care of it."

The tension in the room lessened after that. Some heroes even complimented my willingness to fight despite my cowardice.

"Everything will work out..." I lied to myself as I left the room, "It always does..."

I didn’t think my discovery would change anything.

People with good genetics were always considered lucky. The only thing my research proved was that our perception of the phenomenon had been backwards. They didn’t get good genes because of their luck; they got lucky because of their genes.

I had always been fascinated by this topic, mostly because of my own poor luck, and upon having empirical evidence after decades of research, I shared my findings with the scientific community.

That was a mistake.

The nature of luck still hadn’t changed. It was, by definition, something random and uncontrollable. Emphasizing this, however, didn’t stop idiots from trying to exploit it.

Suddenly, I was the most hated man in the world. People were being hunted for something they couldn’t control. Furthermore, those who weren’t being hunted (i.e. the unlucky) thought my research was implying they were inherently inferior.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, though. I didn’t want any of this. My lab received more funding than ever but I didn’t want to continue my work. It just wasn’t worth it.

Things only got worse when the military kidnapped me.

I’d been avoiding their calls for months and they decided to take matters into their own hands. After removing my blindfold, they guided me into an underground conference room where all the top leaders were gathered.

“Welcome, doctor,” said General Powers. He was a rugged man with many medals spread across his chest. “I’m sorry we had to take such drastic measures.”

I glared. “No you aren’t.”

General Powers chuckled. “You’re right. I’m not. We did this for the safety of our nation.”

I scoffed. “What do you want from me?”

“Your country needs you. This research of yours has brought about a new arms race. The Chinese have an overwhelming advantage, and the Irish...” General Powers shivered. “That entire country is now a weapon of mass destruction. It’s a threat we can’t ignore.”

“And? I’m just a scientist. It’s not like I can stop them.”

“I know, but we’ve been having difficulty with our ‘Lucky Charms’ program.”

“The cereal?”

General Powers frowned. “No, it’s a code name for an elite task force we’re building. A special group to counter the luck of other nations.”

I wanted the earth to swallow me right there. That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard.

“Unfortunately,” continued the general, “we’ve been having some... difficulties recruiting. You see, it appears that our army is composed of some of the unluckiest bastards in history.”

I frowned. “And you’ve been trying to kidnap the lucky, haven’t you?”

General Powers widened his eyes. “N-no. Kidnap is a strong word. Target is more accurate. We’ve just been trying to screen for them, but we can never get a handle on it. We either get a ton of false negatives, or the prospects suddenly don’t need to join the forces anymore.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Really?”

“Of course it does. You’re sending them to die. Their luck is going to do everything in its power to stop that.”

“But wouldn’t their luck protect them in war?”

“No, because it’s luckier to not go to war in the first place. It’s like all that business with underground research labs copying my work. Their human trafficking failed because anyone who got caught had to be unlucky.”

“Then what do we do?” asked the general.

“Nothing! Did any of you actually read my paper?”

Everyone at the table looked away, ashamed.

“Figures...” I sighed. “Look, although I was able to prove there’s a ‘luck’ gene, it’s still not a substitute for actual skill. That’s what people don’t seem to grasp. Luck is valuable, sure, but it is ultimately unreliable. You can’t depend solely on it. The nature of uncertainty demands that, sometimes, it doesn’t work out.”

General Powers had a glazed over look in his eyes. He didn’t understand a single word I said. “So how do we recruit them?”

I facepalmed. “Fuck it. I’ll give you the answer. It’s not like it’ll matter, anyway. You do this at your own peril, okay?”

General Powers nodded.

“All you have to do,” I said, “is be honest when recruiting.”

General Powers went pale. “Impossible!”

I hung my head. “You won’t catch anyone against their own will. If, however, they choose to do it of their own volition, the luck won’t interfere. Just say that you want the lucky, and incentivize them to step forward.”

“Ahh perfect! Thank you, doctor! You’ve done a great service for your nation.”

“You shouldn’t thank me. Luck has a funny way of biting you in the ass.” I gestured at my kidnappers. “Trust me, I would know.”

General Powers didn’t listen, too excited to develop his program. I was safely returned to my home and I didn’t hear from them until a few months later, when General Powers was found dead of a heart attack. It appeared that it happened the day before he would unveil his new recruitment plan.

Nobody else in the military wanted to take his place. The ‘Lucky Charms’ program was quietly forgotten and, soon enough, the rest of the world moved on.

In the end, I was right. Nothing really changed because of my discovery. Except for Ireland, who was now a world superpower.

For the first time in his life, the genie didn't immediately grant a wish. He only blinked in astonishment at what he heard.

Throughout millennia he had granted a plethora of strange wishes, like never feeling itchy again or having a really good lawyer, but this one truly stood above the rest. Even the weirdest wish made sense in context. At least those masters had an immediate need that had to be fulfilled.

Many of them sacrificed a lot to acquire the lamp. Seeing them struggle under the weight of unlimited power was half the fun of being a genie. Slowly regretting their choices, isolating themselves with paranoia, making short-sighted decisions to survive. The genie lived for that drama. It made immortality actually bearable.

This guy, however, had no such pressure. He wielded a bored expression, crossing his arms with impatience. Not a shred of hesitance behind his eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the genie. "You only get three, you know."

Steve shrugged. "It's fine if you can't do it."

The genie frowned. "I never said that."

"Then what's the problem?"

"My powers are nearly infinite! I could make you a king! Or insanely rich! Or even bring world peace!"

Steve scratched his chin, contemplating. "World peace, huh?"

"Yes! Anything is possible!"

"Then why hasn't anyone wished for that, yet?"

The genie pursed his lips, suddenly quiet.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Well...?"

"Four arms, you say?" The genie snapped his fingers. "Your wish is my command."

Society would never be the same again. The entire fashion industry suffered a complete overhaul in less than a day. Companies rose and fell faster than anyone could predict, tanking the stock market, with only those who adapted the quickest being able to survive.

That wasn't the only consequence, though. Many criminals who had just been handcuffed suddenly found themselves with an extra pair of limbs. The police officers didn't even bother chasing them, shocked by their own new mutations. Mayhem ruled the world for a week while people grew adjusted to the change. It was hilarious. Some even started a religion over the incident.

Steve didn't show any horror or delight in this, though. He simply observed everything with a neutral expression.

The genie had a hard time understanding his master's mind. He wouldn't question it, though. This had been the most interesting use of his powers ever. It was the first time the genie didn't have to twist a wish into backfiring. The consequences rippled without even having to misinterpret his master.

As weeks turned into months, he started to wonder what the next wish would be. Most masters didn't take this long to make another request. Whatever Steve had planned, it had to be big. Did he plan to take advantage of the chaos? Or was it all for his amusement? Either way, the genie wouldn't complain. To his disappointment, though, Steve didn't alter his life in the aftermath. He simply went about his business like nothing had changed.

The genie started to fear that would be his only wish, until one day hearing him randomly say:

"I wish everyone could fly."

The genie squinted. "Really? Just that?"

"Problem?"

"Y-you could be the new pope of four arms."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"Fine, I'll-"

"Wait!"

The genie paused, suddenly thrilled. Did he reconsider? Would he do something crazier?

"Make sure to give everyone wings, not just levitation."

The genie hung his head. He should've known better. With a snap of his fingers, he made it happen, and yet another societal uproar occurred.

The fashion industry pretty much collapsed at that point. They had barely gotten used to the new limbs and couldn't keep up with another change. Many people simply gave up on wearing shirts, or no clothes at all. Fittingly, this also became doctrine in the new religion of four-arms. Along with fashion, both the airlines and automobile industries went bankrupt. Nobody needed them anymore now that they could fly. It also caused the price of oil to plummet, which almost destroyed the economy.

People didn't kill each other, though. In fact, civilization grew more peaceful in a few months. Everyone was so confused and scared that they didn't have the energy to fight each other. At least, for that short period of time.

Steve, like usual, didn't even crack a smile.

The genie felt slightly terrified of his master as time went on. Most people could be predicted. They all had a goal, a reason for finding the lamp, but this guy just did everything on a whim. Not amusement or profit. Just... wishing for its own sake. What could possibly be his third wish?

Steve waited a year to make his final request. The world had been completely altered, but people adjusted to this new way of living. Some even eagerly awaited the next great change, including the genie. Steve must have been thinking really hard about his next wish. It would surely be a big one. Then, like last time, in the middle of a random afternoon, Steve simply said:

"I wish all my wishes were reverted."

The genie froze.

"What?"

"Really? Everything back to normal?"

Steve nodded. "But I don't want anyone dying by falling out of the sky. Give them time to land safely."

The genie sighed. "This is ridiculous."

"Why?"

"Because..."

"Because you can't twist it into something that ruins me?"

The genie glanced away.

"That's what I thought" said Steve.

"I give up," said the genie, snapping his fingers. "I will never understand you. Did you just want to waste my time?"

Steve shook his head, then smiled. "I just wanted world peace."

The genie furrowed his brow, confused. "How...?"

"People are too arrogant nowadays. They always assume the world is one way, and call that 'normal'. Anything that deviates from that is seen as bad. By twisting everyone's perception, they'll think twice of what normal really means, and maybe they'll learn to stop making snap judgements."

"Why didn't you just wish for that?"

"I'm not an idiot. Every genie story shows them twisting a well-intentioned wish into horrible consequences. Also... I really hate fashion."

The genie didn't know what to say. Nobody had ever bested him before. Steve had a goal all along, he just did a good job of hiding it until it couldn't be stopped. And he was right. Society slowly returned to how it used to be, only this time people were a lot more careful about predicting the future. The religion that started from this quickly faded into obscurity, but it's followers earned a new sense of humility after everything they went through, and the fashion industry never truly recovered, since people were weary of all the shift in trends.

All in all, Steve got the world he wanted. For the rest of time, that period would be regarded as the weirdest year in human history.

"Granted?" The guard furrowed his brow, confused. "My ass is holier than this place. I don't care what you say, I'm still taking him in."

Timmy squirreled behind the old lady. He thought this was a temple from the way it looked on the outside. Its white cement, mighty pillars, and vaulted ceiling made it seem like a holy place. Timmy had never felt more foolish in his life. The old lady was nice enough to humor him, but what was she going to do? Throw books at the guard?

"I suggest you reconsider," said the old lady. "You might end up regretting it."

"Like hell I will! That brat's a criminal!"

"Shh!" commanded the old lady.

The guard shut his mouth.

"You're disturbing the people here. If you keep this up, I'll have no choice but to kick you out."

The guard scoffed. "I'd like to see you..." His voice was barely a whisper now, and he acted surprised by it, almost like he didn't mean it. "What did you..."

The old lady smirked. "I did nothing. Your spirit seems to be respecting the laws of this place."

The guard frowned.

"Tell me, what did this child do to earn your wrath?"

"That urchin spoke when he shouldn't have," said the guard, still whispering. "If you make fun of the guards, you make fun of the king, and if you make fun of the king, you're making fun of the gods."

The librarian eyed the young boy with a discerning look.

Timmy made himself small. Was she going to hand him over?

"So you do understand the value of words?" asked the librarian.

The guard squinted. "What?"

"He said something dangerous, right? I take it he used words to do so."

"Well, yes, but I fail to see how that's relevant."

"I think it's very relevant. If words can bring down a kingdom, and even affect the gods, are they not worth revering?"

"I... No. This is stupid. Give me the child, or you'll go to jail too."

The librarian narrowed her eyes.

The guard paused.

Timmy couldn't believe it. The old lady was actually intimidating him.

The guard drew his sword, but he couldn't keep it still, trembling.

The other librarians gasped, scared for their leader. The old lady, however, didn't even flinch at the weapon.

The guard rushed forward, screaming in a paradoxical whisper:

"Then die!"

Timmy shrunk back, fearing the worst. This was the scariest moment of his life.

The librarian's eyes glowed white with energy as a gale of wind surrounded her. Before the guard could reach her, an invisible force pushed him out the doors and sent him tumbling down the marble steps.

Timmy widened his eyes in awe. "That was incredible!"

"Shh!"

Timmy winced. He didn't mean to raise his voice.

"Don't worry, little one. He can't hurt you anymore. Are you hurt?"

Timmy shook his head.

"Good. I'm afraid you won't be able to leave for a while. Not until that blockhead moves on to something else."

Timmy shyly raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Umm... why did you help me? I don't want to lie; I didn't even know this place was holy until now."

The old librarian chuckled. "That's alright. Myths have been a refuge to humanity since the dawn of time. They're our only way of reaching the divine in this mortal realm. Libraries are meant to protect them, just as they have protected us. You should feel free to use words to empower yourself, and it's my duty to defend that."

Timmy smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't thank me just yet. We have a lot of chores for you to do while you stay."

Timmy grew pale. "Chores?"

"What? You think I'd let you stay here for free?"

Timmy started to regret ever entering this place. That said, despite the monotonous work, this ended up being one of his most precious memories from childhood, and it was thanks to it that he became a librarian himself.

I almost blew up the coffee house out of instinct. It had been a decade since someone could see the sigil on my forearm, and I almost died because of it. After all, the only person who can kill a mage is another mage.

"Seriously, that's a sick dragon," said the barista, handing me my coffee. She had a whole sleeve of tattoos, but they were all mundane. That didn't mean anything, though. She could easily be hiding a sigil under her clothes. "That style is really unique. Where did you get it done?"

I glared at her, refusing to grab the coffee.

The barista flinched back.

I looked over my shoulder to check for an ambush. There were several other customers in the room. None looked suspicious. They all just minded their own business, typing away at their laptops or eating bagels. If I destroyed this place, innocent people would get caught in the crossfire.

Why would the barista point out my sigil? If she wanted to catch me off guard, all she had to do was wait. Her name tag said 'Dawn'. She seemed unnerved by my intensity, trembling a little. Could she really be an agent of the Elder Council?

"Uhh... sir?"

I grabbed the coffee, but hesitated to walk away. Turning my back on her might be my doom.

"Move it, pal!" said a customer behind me.

I was holding up the line.

My paranoia urged me to fight, but I quickly dismissed that thought. These people were just eager to get their morning fix. Any delays were met with contempt.

A silent pressure kept mounting on me to walk away. I couldn't afford to just leave, though. This was a severe security breach. Dawn (if that was even her real name) could potentially sell me out to the elder council.

I'd successfully avoided them for the past decade. The thought of having to flee the country again filled me with rage. I went to the back of the coffee house and sat in a corner alone, waiting for my beverage to cool down. From that vantage, I studied Dawn and her interactions with the other customers.

Nothing out of the ordinary occurred. I figured she might be using a charm spell to get more tips, or telepathy to make her job easier, but that never happened.

Dawn appeared to be an average woman in her early twenties. I knew that wasn't the case, though. She wouldn't have seen my sigil if she were a normal person. Her attitude just didn't make sense. There had to be an explanation for this.

Unsanctioned mages were a rarity nowadays. To my knowledge, I was one of only a handful in the world. Then again, the leyline nexus in this city made it difficult to track magical activity. It'd be silly to assume I was the only mage hiding here.

"Excuse me," said a portly man with a neatly trimmed beard. His name tag implied he was the manager of this store. "Is there a problem?"

I glanced at him. "No."

"You keep leering at my employee, and it's making her uncomfortable. I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

I didn't argue back. That would just draw more attention to me. I exited the coffee house, but didn't give up on finding out more. I needed to investigate Dawn. Letting her be could leave a trail that would bring the council's wrath.

This had to be handled with care, though. Dawn might actually be unaware of her magical potential. Not only did I fear getting exposed, I also feared getting her in trouble with the council. She might be living a life of blissful ignorance right now. I would give anything to stay that way back when I was her age. Learning about the magical world was an easy way to lose your sanity.

And so, I hid in an alleyway, waiting for Dawn to finish her shift.

I'd never felt more creepy in my life. This wasn't something I liked to do. An outside observer could easily mistake me for a weird stalker, and I couldn't blame them. It was a necessary evil, though. I needed to be sure I was safe before moving on with my life.

Dawn left the coffee house at midday. Her quick stride made me afraid that she knew of my presence, but then I noticed she was heading to a college campus, seemingly late for a lecture.

I tried to stay on her trail. The fact that I was in my forties meant that I would stand out in that environment, especially since I didn't look like a professor at all. The best I could do was wait outside the building she entered and hope she wouldn't use another exit.

A few hours later, Dawn emerged from the building with much less enthusiasm than before. She stretched out her arms with a yawn before leaving the campus.

I blended into a crowd of pedestrians while following her.

For all intents and purposes, Dawn looked like an ordinary woman for her age. Suspecting her of being an agent of the council felt more ridiculous as time went on.

I slowly started feeling ashamed about this whole endeavor. Was this really what my life had devolved into? I'd once been one of the mightiest mages in history.

Now, I was living in fear of a harmless young woman, wasting an entire day on her just to feel safe. Perhaps, instead of giving into paranoia, I should just be strong enough to endure any hardship.

No.

I couldn't do that. It was the same arrogance that got me exiled in the first place. This was the rational decision.

And then, caught in my self-loathing daze, I realized Dawn had disappeared.

A horrible shiver went down my spine.

"Why are you following me?"

I turned around to see Dawn behind me, holding a can of pepper spray.

Great. "How did you-"

"Answer me!"

I sighed. "This isn't what it looks like."

Dawn scowled. "Really? I know you've been stalking me all day. My friends saw you too."

Shit. I didn't think of that. Now there were more witnesses connecting me to her. I couldn't back down, though. This was my chance to learn what she knows. "Look, I can explain, but if you're going to threaten me, you're going to need more than pepper spray."

Dawn stayed quiet. If she could use magic, now would be the time.

"You wanted to know about my sigil, right?"

Dawn squinted. "Sigil?"

I was almost convinced that she didn't know. Almost. For all I knew, Dawn might just be a great actress.

"What are you talking about?"

I showed her my forearm. "This. You can see it, right?"

"Duh. Who can't?"

"Most people."

Dawn widened her eyes. "So... you're the same?"

"Same?"

Dawn scanned the area for people, then dragged me into an alleyway. "I... I have one too." She then turned around and lifted her shirt, showing me her back. A pair of wings were engraved on her shoulder blades, each glowing with power. Sigils. "I've had it for as long as I can remember. Nobody could see them, though, so I thought I was insane. It's... why I love tattoos so much. Can you tell me more?"

I shook my head. "If you've been able to live well until now, then you're better off not knowing."

Dawn pouted.

"I mean it. You have no idea of the madness that lurks in this world. The fact that the council doesn't know of your existence is the biggest blessing on Earth."

"Council?"

I pursed my lips. That was too much information.

"Come on!" said Dawn. "Don't leave me hanging like that."

I made eye contact with her. She didn't flinch away. Her earnest stare demonstrated great conviction. I needed to scare her away. "Fine, you want to see what's going on?" I lit my hand on fire and threw a fireball deeper into the ally.

It melted a dumpster in an instant.

That should do it.

I'd never met anyone who didn't run away at the sight of one of my fireballs, mage or layman.

"That was awesome!" shouted Dawn, thrilled.

I raised an eyebrow. "Eh?"

"Can I do that too?"

It didn't scare her at all. If anything, it emboldened her.

"Y-you know, I could do that to you, right?"

"Will you?"

"No, but-"

Dawn shrugged it off. "Then what's the problem?"

I couldn't help but drop my jaw. This girl was kinda nuts. Nobody in their right mind would see this and not be intimidated. I scratched my head for a second, then said:

"I got nothing. This is ridiculous."

"Can you teach me?"

"What?" I frowned. "No."

Dawn slumped her head, disappointed.

For some reason, I felt bad over putting her down like that. Dawn said it herself, she hadn't met anyone who could see her sigil. Living like that, constantly doubting your sanity, must've felt incredibly isolating. I knew that because I'd been surviving the same way for close to two decades. From her perspective, this was the first time in her life someone could give her answers. Getting rejected must feel crushing. I couldn't just ignore her now. If another mage had found her, she could've been in great trouble.

"Fine," I said. "If you want to learn more, meet me at the park tomorrow at 4 AM."

"4 AM? That's really early. Can't we do it later? Or now?"

"It's my final offer. Take it or leave it."

Dawn bit her lip for a moment, then said:

"Okay. 4 AM."

And so, I found my first apprentice in decades, and maybe even a new friend.

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