The searing pain of oblivion, a void ripped open and then slammed shut, was my last memory before the silence. Not the silence of a tomb, but of a quiet, insistent hum, like the internal workings of a forgotten machine. It was a stark contrast to the divine realm, a place I'd only ever experienced as a distant echo of unimaginable power and blinding light. My goddess, a being of such chaotic grace and casual cruelty, had promised me payment after centuries of loyal service. My reward for eradicating her enemies—heretics, kings, even rival god-contractors—was a quick, excruciating death by her own hand, an oversight on her part. "Humans aren't meant to physically enter the divine realm, silly," she'd said, her voice like wind chimes through a thunderclap, entirely devoid of malice or regret.
The contract was voided. My life, my very existence, extinguished. Yet, here I was. Or, rather, here it was. This new existence, a tiny, helpless thing. I felt the overwhelming fatigue of new growth, the relentless demand for sustenance, the profound, unnerving sensation of a body being built from scratch. For years, I drifted in and out of a conscious haze, a sentinel observing the world from behind a pair of developing eyes. The goddess had fulfilled her end of the new, hastily revised bargain: I desired a simple life, free of conflict. And my "extra wish" was for a body capable of achieving it. She'd given me a clean slate, a pre-Awakened human form, in a world she thought far enough removed from her problems.
She was wrong, of course. Gods always are.
I learned the world from the ground up, quite literally. The smells, the sounds, the overwhelming rush of simple sensation. This was Earth, but not my Earth. This was an Earth where the myths were real, the shadows alive, and the mundane coexisted, uneasily, with the monstrous. Vampires, demons, lycanthropes – they weren't hidden boogeymen. They were CEOs, pop stars, and, as I would soon discover, my future coworkers.
I understood their existence, the predatory hierarchy, the inherent danger. But after centuries of being a living weapon, a puppet to divine will, all I craved was peace. My new body, naturally athletic and quick-witted, was a gift. It was handsome, too, according to the gushing women who fussed over me in school. But beneath the surface, it hummed with the dormant power of an Awakened human, an essence that was, I now knew, a delicacy for the supernatural. A silent beacon. The goddess, in her haste to be rid of me, had inadvertently made me a walking meal ticket, a target in a world I desperately wanted to ignore.
I finished college with unremarkable grades, a conscious effort to blend in. No heroics, no grand gestures, no leadership roles. Just enough to get by. My goal, an office job. A nine to five. A cubicle. A steady paycheck. A life so utterly devoid of excitement it would make a snail seem like an adrenaline junkie. It was my middle finger to fate, to the gods, to every battle I'd ever fought.
And that's how I found myself, at twenty-two, standing in front of OmniCorp's gleaming glass doors. OmniCorp Games. A major player in the video game industry. Seemed harmless enough. Pixels and code, not blood and divine fire.
"Welcome to OmniCorp, Mr. Vance."
The voice was smooth, cool, and distinctly female. My new boss. An Alpha. A wolf-demon. I recognized the faint, musky scent of ancient power, the subtle shift in her pupils, like molten gold. Her name was Lilith Thorne. And she was stunning. Too stunning. Her tailored suit hugged curves that shouldn't be possible in mortal clothing, her raven hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her eyes, when they met mine, held an unnerving intelligence that promised both danger and delight.
"Please, Chase," I corrected, my voice betraying none of the internal turmoil. I extended a hand, forcing a polite, neutral smile. Her grip was firm, almost crushing, her skin surprisingly warm. Her gaze lingered, a predator assessing its prey, and a shiver, not entirely unwelcome, traced its way down my spine. The part of me that was still the warrior, dormant for so long, stirred.
"Lilith," she returned, her smile a flash of pearly white that seemed a little too sharp. "Come, I'll show you to your desk."
The office was a hive of activity, a cacophony of keyboard clicks, hushed conversations, and the distant, synthesized sounds of virtual explosions. Modern art adorned the walls, mostly abstract pieces that seemed to writhe with their own hidden life. And the people… they weren't people. Not all of them.
There was the woman with eyes like polished obsidian and a faint, almost imperceptible hiss to her S's – a vampire, undoubtedly. Her movements were fluid, impossibly graceful. Another, a behemoth of a woman with braided hair and a laugh that boomed like a distant growl, was clearly a lycanthrope, perhaps a bear or, given the office, another wolf. The air hummed with their presence, their barely contained power, their hunger. And their eyes, almost invariably, drifted to me.
My essence. It wasn't something I could turn off. It was a silent hum, a subtle pheromone to these creatures. Like a delicious aroma in a room full of starving connoisseurs. I just tried to act oblivious, focusing on Lilith's back as she led me deeper into the labyrinth of cubicles.
"This is your station, Chase," Lilith announced, gesturing to a pristine desk overflowing with monitors, a comfortable-looking chair, and a neat stack of onboarding documents. "You'll be working in the 'Worldbuilding & Lore' department. Given your... unique insights, I felt you'd be a perfect fit."
Unique insights? Was she already aware of my past? Or was it just a euphemism for the delicious scent I emitted? The warrior in me wanted to push, to demand answers. But the office worker, the man craving a quiet life, remained silent.
"Thank you, Lilith," I said, offering another bland smile. "I appreciate the opportunity."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, husky purr that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. "Oh, Chase. The pleasure is all ours. We have high hopes for you here at OmniCorp. Very high hopes." Her eyes, momentarily losing their human facade, shimmered with that predatory gold, then flicked down to my neck before returning to my gaze, a silent promise and a thinly veiled threat. "Don't disappoint us."
With a final, unnervingly intimate smile, she straightened, her scent, a mix of ozone and ancient forest, lingering in the air. Then, she was gone, leaving me alone in my cubicle, the hum of the office filling the void she left.
I sat down, the leather of the chair cool beneath my fingers. My hands trembled almost imperceptibly as I picked up the first document: "OmniCorp Employee Handbook."
This was it. My new life. My simple, quiet, utterly normal life.
Except it wasn't quiet. The office thrummed with the barely contained power of its monstrous inhabitants. It wasn't simple. My very existence was an advertisement to them. And it certainly wasn't normal.
My new cubicle was surrounded by beautiful, dangerous women, each one a potential predator, drawn to the essence of the Awakened human. And my boss, a literal wolf-demon, had just made it clear that she saw me as something more than just an employee.
Don't disappoint us.
The warrior stirred again, a slow, unwilling awakening from a long, self-imposed slumber. I had sought peace, an escape from the endless cycle of violence. But the scent of my essence, the hungry eyes of my new coworkers, and the predatory purr of my boss all told me the same thing:
My war was far from over. It had just moved into an office building.
I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, and let out a long, slow breath. This was going to be a very interesting job. And I had a feeling that working overtime was about to take on a whole new meaning.