Chapter 1: The God's Boredom
The bass pulsed through Sarive's chest, a deep thrum that vibrated the very bones in his ribcage. Eighteen. The age of adulthood, or so they said. He lay on his bed, the cheap headphones doing their best to replicate the energy of the club he'd left just an hour ago. His friends were probably still there, dancing, laughing, maybe even trying to convince Imani to give one of them a chance. Sarive smiled a little at that thought. Imani.
But here, in the quiet darkness of his room, the echoes of the night were fading, replaced by a familiar sense of...melancholy. It wasn't sadness, not exactly. More like a quiet contemplation, a tendency to reflect when the adrenaline wore off. He often found himself drawn to music that mirrored this feeling, songs that spoke of longing, of searching, of something just out of reach. Tonight, it was a Tanzanian ballad, the singer's voice a rich baritone that spoke of journeys and home.
Sarive closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him. He could almost feel the red dust of the Serengeti beneath his feet, smell the smoky scent of his grandmother's cooking, hear the laughter of his cousins. Tanzania. He hadn't been back since he was eleven, when his family had moved to Indianapolis. America. It was home now, he supposed. But sometimes, like tonight, a part of him ached for something more, something he couldn't quite name.
Suddenly, the music cut off. Not a fade, but a hard stop, like a switch had been flipped. Sarive frowned, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The screen was dark. Power outage? That was unusual.
Before he could even sit up, the room was bathed in light. Not the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through his window, but a blinding, intense radiance that seemed to emanate from the very air itself. Sarive threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the sudden brightness. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence that followed the music's abrupt end.
When his eyes finally adjusted, he could see the figure standing at the foot of his bed. Tall, imposing, radiating an aura of power that made Sarive's breath hitch in his throat. He wasn't like anyone Sarive had ever seen. The man's skin was a deep, rich brown, the color of the earth after a heavy rain. His head was adorned with dreadlocks, each strand thick and lustrous, interwoven with what looked like strands of gold, catching the light and making it seem like his hair was on fire. And within those dreadlocks, gleaming like embedded jewels, were pieces of metal, gold and intricate, that looked both ancient and futuristic. His eyes… his eyes were like molten gold, burning with an ancient, unknowable energy. He wore no clothes, but there was a strange, subtle energy that seemed to shimmer around him, like he was clothed in light itself.
Sarive scrambled backward, pushing himself up against the headboard. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Hallucination? Dream? Neither felt right. This was too vivid, too real.
"Who… who are you?" Sarive managed to stammer, his voice barely a whisper.
The figure inclined his head, a gesture that was both regal and unsettling. "I am… dissatisfied," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate the air. "I am tired of reading your story, boy. It is…boring."
Sarive stared at him, dumbfounded. "My…my story?"
"Yes, your story. Eighteen years. Born in Tanzania, moved to America. Likes working out, playing video games. Cannot read very well. So…predictable." The figure's golden eyes seemed to bore into Sarive's soul, seeing everything, understanding everything. "I am going to make it much more exciting. I am going to use you to create a good story."
Fear gave way to a surge of adrenaline. Sarive's heart was no longer a frantic drumbeat, but a war drum, pounding in his ears. "What are you talking about? What are you going to do?"
The figure took a step closer, and Sarive flinched, pressing himself further into the headboard. "What I am going to do," he said, a strange smile playing on his lips, "is… relocate you."
"Relocate me? Where? Who are you?" Sarive's mind was reeling. He thought of his mom, his dad, his little sister, Aisha. What would happen to them? Would they even know where he'd gone?
"Let's just say I'm a god," the figure replied, his voice laced with amusement, "trying to create a good story for myself. A story I will enjoy reading… and watching."
"A god?" Sarive scoffed, but the sound lacked conviction. Everything about this being screamed of power, of something beyond human comprehension. But a god? It was insane. "Okay… if you're a god… do you have a name?"
"A name?" The figure tilted his head again, as if considering the question for the first time. "Not one you would recognize, I suspect. But you can call me… Theonix, if you want."
"Theonix…" Sarive repeated the name, testing it on his tongue. It sounded ancient, powerful… and utterly alien. "Wait a minute. This isn't funny. Where are you taking me? What's going to happen to me?" He tried to sound brave, but his voice trembled. "What about my family? What about my world? I have a life here!"
Theonix waved a dismissive hand, the gesture casual, as if he were swatting away a fly. "Oh, don't worry about that shitty-ass world. It will continue on, much as it always has. Your family will mourn, perhaps. But time… time heals all wounds, does it not?"
"That's my life you're talking about!" Sarive yelled, his fear finally boiling over into anger. He lunged forward, a desperate, futile attempt to grab Theonix, to stop him from whatever he was planning.
But he never reached him.
A sudden, intense glow erupted from Theonix, brighter than anything Sarive had ever seen. It filled the room, blinding him, burning away everything else until there was nothing but light. Sarive cried out, throwing his arms up to shield his eyes, but it was no use. The light seemed to penetrate his very being, consuming him.
And then… darkness.
***
The first thing Sarive felt was pain. A searing, bone-jarring impact that sent shockwaves through his entire body. He slammed into the ground, hard, the air whooshing out of his lungs in a painful gasp. For a moment, there was nothing but agony, a symphony of burning, aching, and throbbing that blotted out everything else.
Slowly, the pain began to subside, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache. Sarive lay on his stomach, his face pressed against the unfamiliar earth. It smelled… different. Not the familiar scent of his suburban backyard, with its mix of mown grass and exhaust fumes, but something wilder, more… primal. A rich, earthy aroma, mingled with the salty tang of the sea.
Sea?
With a groan, Sarive pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with every movement. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. The world swam before him for a moment, then gradually began to sharpen into focus.
He was no longer in his bedroom.
He was… somewhere else. Completely, utterly, impossibly somewhere else.
He was lying on a patch of lush, green grass, softer and more vibrant than any he had ever seen. The grass stretched out before him, a carpet of emerald green that sloped gently down towards a shoreline. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a rhythmic, soothing roar that was both calming and awe-inspiring. The sky above was a brilliant, cloudless blue, the sun shining with a warmth that felt… different. Not the harsh, humid heat of an Indiana summer, but a softer, more golden warmth that seemed to caress his skin.
Sarive slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, his head swimming with confusion. He was on some kind of island. A beautiful island, yes, but an island nonetheless. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was Theonix, the blinding light… and then nothing.
He stood up, his legs shaky beneath him. He was wearing the same clothes he'd had on in his room: his black t-shirt, his Japanese techwear jacket and pants, and his beloved futuristic Jordan shoes. They looked… out of place here. Like he'd stepped out of a catalog and into a painting.
As he looked around, trying to get his bearings, he heard a sound. A voice. A woman's voice, singing. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, a complex and intricate tune that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of the landscape. It was a language he didn't recognize, but the emotion behind it was unmistakable: a blend of longing, strength, and an almost ethereal serenity.
Drawn by the music, Sarive began to walk towards the sound, his confusion momentarily forgotten in the face of such captivating beauty. He moved cautiously, pushing through tall, flowering bushes, the air thick with the sweet scent of blossoms he'd never seen before. The singing grew louder, clearer, and Sarive felt a growing sense of… anticipation. Of wonder.
Finally, he reached the edge of the foliage and peered through.
Before him was a small lake, nestled like a jewel in the heart of the island. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the azure sky like a mirror. And in the center of the lake, bathing, was a woman.
Sarive's breath caught in his throat. He had seen beautiful women before, of course. His high school had been full of them. But this… this was different. This was beauty on a scale he had never imagined possible. Her skin was the color of rich, dark chocolate, smooth and flawless, glistening with droplets of water. Her hair, long and black, flowed around her like a silken curtain, partially obscuring her face. But even from this angle, Sarive could see the curve of her jaw, the high arch of her cheekbones, the delicate slope of her neck. She moved with a grace that was both fluid and powerful, her body seemingly sculpted from moonlight and shadow.
But it wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated Sarive. It was something else, something… familiar. There was a strength in her posture, a regal bearing, an almost otherworldly presence that reminded him of someone… someone he couldn't quite place. Someone… iconic.
And then it hit him. The dark hair, the powerful build, the sheer, undeniable presence… it was like looking at Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. The resemblance was uncanny.
Sarive blinked, his mind reeling. Wonder Woman? Here? On a deserted island? It had to be a coincidence. A trick of the light. His mind was playing tricks on him, trying to make sense of this impossible situation.
He blinked again. And she was gone.
One moment, she was there, a vision of breathtaking beauty in the heart of the lake. The next, she was gone, vanished without a trace, as if she had never been there at all.
Sarive stared at the empty lake, his heart pounding in his chest. What was going on? Was he dreaming? Had he lost his mind? This couldn't be real. None of this could be real.
Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in his head. A blinding, searing agony that sent him sprawling. He cried out, his hands flying to his head, but there was nothing there. Just the pain, raw and unrelenting, like a thousand needles piercing his skull.
Before he could even register what was happening, he was lifted into the air. Not gently, but roughly, violently, as if he weighed nothing at all. He gasped, his vision blurring, the pain momentarily forgotten in the face of this new, terrifying sensation.
He was turned around, and then he saw her.
The woman from the lake.
She was standing in front of him, her face inches from his. Her expression was no longer serene, but fierce, her eyes narrowed, blazing with an almost frightening intensity. Her body was still wet, glistening in the sunlight, every muscle taut and powerful. And she was… naked.
Sarive's eyes widened in shock. He tried to look away, to focus on anything else, but it was impossible. She was too close, too overwhelming. His mind, already reeling from the impossible events of the last few minutes, threatened to shut down completely.
Her left hand was wrapped around his throat. Not gently, but with a grip of iron. He tried to speak, to protest, but no words came out. Only a strangled, choking sound.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous, like the growl of a predator. "And how did you get here?"
"Who are you?" the woman repeated, her voice a low growl. The grip on Sarive's throat tightened, not enough to crush, but enough to make him very, very aware of his vulnerability. Her eyes, those molten gold eyes, searched his, as if she were trying to see past his skin, past his thoughts, into the very core of his being.
Sarive, his mind still reeling from the impossible turn of events, managed to choke out a few words. "My… my name is Sarive," he gasped, his voice a strained whisper. He tried to swallow, but his throat was constricted. "Please… I'm not… an enemy."
The woman's brow furrowed, her expression a mixture of suspicion and… something else. Frustration? Confusion? Sarive couldn't quite tell. "An enemy? I've never seen you before. No ship has landed on Themyscira in centuries. No man has set foot here, ever."
Themyscira. The name echoed in Sarive's mind, a whisper of something ancient and powerful. He'd heard the name before, somewhere… in a movie? A video game? It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite grasp it.
"I don't know how I got here," Sarive croaked, his voice barely audible. "I was… in my room. And then… this god… Theonix… he said he was going to… relocate me."
The woman's grip tightened slightly, and Sarive winced. "A god? Theonix? I've never heard of such a deity." She studied him for a moment longer, her gaze intense and unwavering. Then, with a suddenness that startled him, she released him.
Sarive slumped, gasping for air, his hands going to his throat. He coughed, his lungs burning, his head spinning. He felt lightheaded, dizzy, like he was going to pass out.
The woman stepped back, her expression still guarded, but slightly less hostile. She crossed her arms over her chest, her movements fluid and graceful, even in her nakedness. Sarive, his face flushed, tried to focus on anything but her body. He stared at the ground, at the lush green grass, at the distant shoreline. Anything.
"Look, kid," the woman said, her voice low and commanding, "I've got a lot on my mind. I'm dealing with the Pantheon War, and now I have to deal with you. It's a lot."
Pantheon War. That sounded… familiar too. Gods. Wars. This was all too much. His head throbbed, his body ached, and his mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear.
The woman, Diana, continued, her voice softening slightly. "I don't know why this god, Theonix, brought you here. It makes no sense. But…" She paused, her eyes narrowing as she assessed him. "You're clearly not a normal man. I felt your… power. It's raw, untrained, but… significant."
Sarive looked up at her, his throat still sore. "Power? What power? I'm just… I'm just Sarive. From Indianapolis."
Diana's lips curved slightly, a hint of a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Indianapolis? I've never heard of such a place. But you are more than 'just Sarive,' I think." She took a step closer, her gaze piercing. "I don't know what Theonix wants with you, but if you prove useful… I might have a need for you."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Sarive wasn't sure what she meant, but the intensity in her voice made him wary. And yet… there was also a strange sense of… hope. A chance to prove himself. A chance to figure out what was going on.
Sarive, trying to ignore the lingering ache in his throat and the pounding in his head, said, "Whatever you need, I'm here to help. I don't know why I'm here, but I'm not going to cause any trouble. And… and could you move your hand from my neck, please?"
Diana blinked, as if just realizing the lingering tension in her posture. "Oh. Yeah." She stepped back, releasing him completely. She turned away from him, walking towards the lake, her movements fluid and graceful. She seemed… less imposing now, somehow. More… human. Though, Sarive knew, she was anything but.
"Come," she said, her voice carrying over the gentle sound of the waves. "I will take you to the city. We will try to understand what has happened to you."
Sarive hesitated for a moment, still trying to process everything. But he knew he had no other choice. He was alone, in a strange and dangerous place, and this woman, this… Diana, was his only chance.
He took a deep breath and followed her.