The sheets were still warm. Her breath was still heavy. He had not even put his damn boxers back on. That's when Sarah sat up, eyes wide like she had just seen a ghost.
Or worse… her boyfriend.
"Oh no," she whispered, scrambling out of bed. "Oh no no no, he's back early."
He blinked. "Who?"
"My boyfriend, you idiot!"
He looked around, naked, sweaty, one sock on the ceiling fan, and his pants nowhere in sight. "Sarah, what the fu-."
"He'll kill you if he sees you! You have to go!"
There it was. The phrase every man wants to hear right after risking it all for a mediocre orgasm.
Then came the sound. A car door slam. Boots on gravel. A man's voice yelling from the driveway.
"Sarah, open this damn door!"
BOOM. Something slammed against the door, like an explosion going off.
"Oh fuck me sideways," he muttered, tripping over a shoe while trying to put his other shoe on.
"No time for that," Sarah hissed, already pushing him toward the window. "You have to jump."
He looked out the window and swallowed hard.
"Yeah… that's not happening, we are two stories up!"
"Well, it's that or be six feet under, your choice."
The front door rattled.
Panic-mode activated. He grabbed his jeans, shoved one leg in, missed the second hole and collapsed like a clumsy deer.
"Open this door right now!" Her boyfriend roared.
He flung the window open, kissed his dignity goodbye, and dove out like he was escaping a sex prison.
The bushes caught him. His ankle popped, his elbow found a rake, and he rolled into the neighbor's yard holding in pain. He popped up and stumbled across the yard, limping. Holding his clothes in a crumbled ball, half-naked and half-dead.
"Shit shit shit shit," he whispered to himself like a prayer. He fumbled for his keys as he approached his car, his phone flying out of his hands. He bent over to pick it up, ass flashing the chihuahua that barked at him like he owed it money.
He jumped in and slammed the door shut, peeling out of the driveway without looking back. His tense body relaxed.
"Fuckkkkk," the pain hit him all at once, his arm bleeding, ankle screaming, and head throbbing from the stress. Lights flashed in his rearview mirror, "Oh come on!" he yelled hitting his steering wheel.
The red and blue blinding him in contrast to the night sky. He rolled the window down, still shirtless, and his jeans were still half-way on.
The officer stepped out of the car.
Black boots. Immaculate uniform. Aviators reflected the world like twin galaxies. And a smile, god, that smile, it didn't belong on a traffic cop. It belonged on a goddess.
She approached with a swing in her hips and a skip in her step. She studied him for a minute, the silence slamming down on him like a judge.
"Rough night, champ?"
He blinked. Champ? "Uh. You could say that."
She leaned in, resting her forearms on the window frame like they were old friends. "No shirt. No pants. And a thong on your shoulder? Looks like a kind of Tuesday filled with mistakes. Mistakes that could change your life forever."
"…What?"
She just smiled. "You ever think about how some roads never truly end; they just loop back in a different universe?"
He stared.
"Never mind," she added. "That one always lands better when you die."
"…Come again?"
She smiled. "License and registration?" she said sweetly.
He fumbled for his registration and handed it over along with his license.
"Zane Morgan…" she chewed on the words. "Zane.."
"You know," she said, tapping his license against the door, "I wasn't going to stop you. But the way you just stumbled through fate back there… I knew you were the one."
"The one…? For what?"
"You're just the right idiot."
He was appalled. "Right idiot? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
She leaned closer. "Listen," she whispered. "Things happen that we can't explain, call it fate, destiny, doesn't matter. There is always a reason." She winked and rustled his already messy hair.
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you messing with me?"
"Constantly," she said with a grin.
She straightened, tapped the top of his car with her palm like she was sealing a fate, and turned back to her cruiser.
"No ticket?" he called after her.
She looked over her shoulder. "Oh, honey. You won't need a ticket."
She got in the car, door shutting.
He sat there for a full minute, still shirtless, confused, and weirded out.
Her siren sounded, and he jumped, snapping back to reality.
She vanished into the night, cruiser lights flashing once before shutting off completely.
When he got home, his roommate Kevin was eating cold pizza and watching some true crime documentary. Kevin looked up.
"Dude… are you bleeding? And is that a thong on your shoulder?"
The clothes he carried hit the couch. "Don't ask." He plucked the thong off his shoulder and threw it on the pile.
"I told you that Sarah chick was no good." He laughed. "Let me guess… she had a boyfriend?"
"I'm not in the mood for this right now, my arm is killing me." He looked at his arm, dry blood filled the scratches.
"Oh, and just to add salt to the wound, I got pulled over."
"Oh man… when it rains it pours." Laughing again. "at least her boyfriend didn't get you, you would probably be dead right now."
Knock knock.
Kevin paused. "You expecting anyone?"
He shook his head. Kevin stood and walked to the door. "Probably Amazon. I ordered that anime body pillow you told me not to-."
He opened the door.
BANG.
Kevin dropped like a sack of potatoes, blood splattering everywhere.
Zane stood there frozen. Holy shit, what the fuck.
There he was. The boyfriend. Muscled. Tattoos. Rage. Gun.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN FUCK MY GIRL AND GET AWAY WITH IT?"
Hands up. Voice shaking. "Bro, look, let's be adults-."
BANG. Pain. Darkness. Silence.
Then…. Stars. No pain. Not even naked, just floating in a void littered with stars.
A voice echoed.
"You have been chosen."
He blinked.
"Your journey begins now."
"Is this heave-." The sentence shattered as he was hauled through space, like a ragdoll caught in the claws of gravity itself.
Then suddenly it stopped. The stars vanished, only the darkness remained, a darkness that chilled his soul. Not his skin. Not his bones. His core. And even that word felt like a guess.
Then came the static. Old-TV, buzz-in-your-skull static.
POP.
Something slid into his brain. Not metaphorically.
It wiggled through his ear canal like a slime with no respect for personal boundaries.
"Ew, what the-."
BZZT.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE BOOTING…]
[ASSIGNING CUSTOM PACKAGE…]
[WARNING: COSMIC INTRUSION DETECTED.]
[…WELCOME, IDIOT.]
That last line was different from the rest of it. It had sass.
Floating in front of him was a screen. He reached out, and his hand passed straight through it.
"Huh…"
Then a voice echoed in his head. He yelped.
"Hey." A voice like an upbeat anime girl. "Congrats. You died. Shot by your lover's boyfriend. Real dumb way to go, by the way. But hey, good news!"
The tone had dropped an octave, doom incarnate.
"Now you're mine."
"…. huh?"
"I'm your Personal Orientation Response Assistant, P.O.R.A. But you can call me Pora. I'll be your cosmic customer service rep slash bestie slash mental parasite until you inevitably die again."
"I'm in hell, aren't I."
"Please. This is way worse. Welcome to the Thronebound System. Everyone gets one. Most people get the basic bitch version. But not you!"
"Why not me?"
"Because I intercepted your upload. You're now enrolled in my special program. Custom quests. Bonus drops. Early access abilities. Think of it like being subscribed to a premium membership of godhood."
He shook his head. "Nope. This isn't real. I'm dreaming." Quests? Drops? Abilities?
"I really need to lay off the games…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "This is one hell of a fever dream."
"Oh no, this is real. Isn't it exciting!"
Another screen popped up.
[UNIQUE SYSTEM PACKAGE INSTALLED]
[THRONEBOUND SYSTEM CLASS: NOT SELECTED]
[FEATURES: LOOT. SO. MUCH. LOOT. AND XP, OF COURSE.]
"System class? Like a warrior?"
The voice laughed, uncontrollably. "Oh, you are HILARIOUS. But no, you wouldn't last five seconds as a warrior."
"You have to earn your class! It is sooooo much fun, that's if you survive, of course."
"I can die?"
"Technically, you already have, but yes, Death still gets his greedy claws into everything."
A pause
"I hate him."
"Let's look at your stat sheet, this will be the last thing I show you before you are transported."
Another screen popped up, this time with more information than the last two.
***status***
Name: Zane Morgan
Class: Not selected
Core: None
Soul embers: 1/1
[Crystal Regen: 1 per minute, non-combat
HP 100/100
HP Regen: 0
*stats*
Might: 4
Finesse: 6
Essence: 1
Resolve: 3
Presence: 8
Vitalis: 4
Soul Sync : 12%
Affinity: ???
Corruption: None
Luck: Unlucky]
He blinked. There was so much to take in and he didn't understand most of it. But one word stuck. Unlucky.
"Now you will be transported! I hope you're ready." Pora said gleefully.
"WAIT!" he shouted, a bright light consumed the void, and he fell.
Naked once again.
[WELCOME TO THE INITIATE TRIAL]
[LEVEL 0]
[TRIAL STARTING IN]
[3]
[2]
[1]