"Come again?" I asked, certain my ears were playing tricks on me.
"Surely, it's not just because of my appearance, right?" I added sarcastically, fanning the air as if the very suggestion were the punchline of a cosmic joke.
[Yup. That's exactly why I chose you, human!]
I blinked, genuinely stunned. His tone wasn't teasing; it was serious and bizarrely optimistic, as if he were incredibly proud of his own scouting abilities. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in his reply.
His words hit me like a physical weight. Did he really just say that? I mean, back home, people called me a "once-in-a-millennium beauty" and a "national treasure," but I figured the Gods had higher standards than a glossy magazine cover.
Apparently not.
"Seriously?" I asked, my voice flat and skeptical.
[The God of Fertility grinned widely.]
You've got to be kidding me.
"Is this like a running joke in heaven, perhaps?" I muttered. It hadn't even occurred to me that I'd be drafted for my face a second time. First the "perverted old man" God of War, and now this guy.
[Oh, by the way, I just have one request…] he chimed in, dragging me back to the present.
I sat up, straightening my spine and bracing myself for whatever ridiculous, impossible feat this new deity was about to demand.
[Geez! No need to be so serious! I just need a small favor. No pressure.]
That's exactly what makes it more worrisome, I thought, knowing full well he could hear me.
"W-what favor?"
[I want you to fail all of your missions... except one.]
My brow furrowed. I had no idea what he was even talking about. Last I checked, I didn't exactly have a buffet of missions to choose from. That was the whole reason I'd been ready to accept my own erasure.
"What do you mean, 'missions'?" I tilted my head, genuinely lost. "I only have one card pull left. One life. One shot."
The interface lit up with a frantic glow.
[The God of Fertility's eyes widened.]
[HUH?! What do you mean, ONE?!] he yelled inside my head. It was so loud it felt like my eardrums were going to burst from the inside, despite the fact that he was speaking directly into my consciousness.
"Hey! Don't tell me you didn't know?"
[The God of Fertility looks at you in disbelief.]
"Don't you dare act like you're blaming me! You're the God here—you're supposed to know the stats before you hit 'select'!" I argued, planting my hands on my waist and pointing an accusing finger at the interface.
[The God of Fertility is speechless. He doesn't even know what to say anymore.]
"Seriously?" I replied, absolutely dumbfounded. I knew it! I knew no sane God would pick a Tester who was down to their final life, but apparently, the universe had provided me with a dumb one.
[The God of Fertility is incredibly disappointed by what he thinks you are thinking right now. He advises that you uphold his dignity.]
"Stop using the interface to complain! You could talk just fine a few seconds ago!" I snapped. A heavy silence settled over the room as I huffed, crossing my arms. "Just so you know, I have very little respect for you right now."
[Hey! That's not nice! It was an honest mistake, okay?!]
Oh, so he finally found his voice again.
Suddenly, the interface chimed with a crisp, professional tone that didn't match the chaos in my head.
[Attention Tester! In a few minutes, you will be picking your mission. Please be ready.]
I started pacing again, moving back and forth like a caged cat, biting my nails until the skin turned white. I couldn't relax. Every second of waiting was excruciating.
What made it worse were the anxious murmurs of the God inside my head. He was muttering under his breath as if he were reciting some frantic ritual. It was driving me up the wall.
I get it, I thought at him. This isn't exactly a cause for celebration, but can you at least settle down? You're making me jittery.
If I could have grabbed the sigil on my neck and yanked it out just to get some peace and quiet, I would have. But as usual, I had no choice but to endure.
[No... No... No... This can't be. No. No. No.]
"Agh! Seriously! Can you shut up for once?!" I snapped, stomping my foot on the floor. "I didn't ask you to choose me! It was your mistake!"
I wasn't exactly thrilled about going on my literal last mission, but it was still better than being stuck in this reclusion room forever. I was actually starting to feel glad he was too dim-witted to check my life count.
[Hey. I'm hearing your thoughts, you know.]
He started to retaliate, but the system cut him off.
[Congrats Tester! It's time to select your mission!]
Finally. Anything is better than this waiting.
I took a deep breath, my trembling hands reaching for the screen. Knowing this was the end of the line was jarring, to say the least. I looked at the interface, and though I couldn't see him, I felt the God of Fertility looking back.
After forty-nine lives with the God of War, I'd learned how to communicate with someone who didn't exist in the physical room. Maybe my sanity was slipping, but it had become second nature to treat the interface as a person. At least this time, I was sitting on a soft mattress instead of a cold floor.
[Are you sure you would like to proceed? Yes or No]
I settled myself deeper into the cushions, making sure I was as comfortable as possible for my potential execution. My stomach was in a knot. I hadn't felt this much raw anxiety since my very first mission. This was it. Step one, all over again—except this time, it probably wouldn't involve trenches or trench coats.
Considering my new God's "specialty," I wasn't sure what to expect.
I let out a long, shaky exhale and pressed [Yes].
On the interface, the words [Press to Pull Card] began to flash in a rhythmic, pulsing light.
"Okay," I whispered. "Here goes nothing."