Sunny sat with his friends at the edge of the courtyard, unaware of the eyes that watched him from beyond reality. He laughed at something Davi said, the sound hollow even to his own ears. The conversation washed over him in waves, present but distant, like most things in his life these days.
The gods observed him from their realm, circled around a viewing pool that rippled with his image. Their forms shifted and blurred at the edges, too vast and luminous for mortal comprehension. They had been watching him for some time now.
"This one," said the eldest, voice neither male nor female but somehow both. "He carries the potential we require."
"He does not seem special," countered another, whose essence flowed like water through the chamber.
"That is precisely why," said a third, whose presence felt like the weight of mountains. "He expects nothing from existence. The disappointment has already been absorbed."
Sunny stretched his arms above his head, feeling the familiar tension in his shoulders. His friends continued talking around him, planning weekend activities that he would likely decline. He had grown accustomed to declining things. The routine of refusal had become comfortable.
The gods reached a consensus. The viewing pool trembled, its surface breaking into fractals of light.
Sunny felt it first as pressure behind his eyes. The world around him dimmed at the edges, sounds becoming muffled. His friends did not notice when his body went rigid, when his eyes widened in silent alarm. A tug from somewhere deep inside his chest pulled him sideways, not in physical space but through something else entirely.
He did not scream. There was no time.
The transition happened between one heartbeat and the next. The courtyard vanished. His friends disappeared. The world he knew collapsed into a single point before expanding into something else entirely.
He found himself standing in a chamber that defied comprehension. The walls—if they could be called walls—shifted between states of matter. The ceiling stretched infinitely upward while simultaneously pressing down upon him. His mind struggled to process the contradictions.
"We have brought you here," said a voice.
Sunny turned. Where moments before there had been incomprehensible cosmic entities, now stood three ordinary-looking humans. Their appearances were meticulously crafted facades—avatars designed not to shatter his sanity. Even so, something about them felt wrong. Their movements were too fluid, their features too symmetrical, their eyes too knowing.
"You are confused," said the first, a tall woman with dark hair that moved against nonexistent wind. "That is natural."
"We have been watching you, Sunny," said the second, a middle-aged man whose skin seemed to contain constellations when viewed from the corner of the eye. "For quite some time."
"You have qualities we find valuable," said the third, a figure whose gender and age seemed to shift subtly with each passing moment. "Resilience. Adaptability. And most importantly, detachment."
Sunny did not speak. His throat felt dry, his tongue heavy. The chamber around them pulsed with energy that made his skin crawl. He focused on the avatars, finding them easier to process than the impossible architecture surrounding them.
"There is a role that needs filling," continued the first. "A place between worlds where someone must stand guard. Not as a warrior, but as a witness. A connector between realities that were never meant to touch."
"Others have tried and failed," said the second. "Their minds shattered, their souls consumed by the spaces between."
"We believe you might succeed where they did not," said the third. "Your particular emptiness makes you suitable. The void you already carry within will resonate with the greater void you must face."
They explained further, speaking of cosmic balance and interdimensional threats, of duties and responsibilities that would span centuries. They spoke of purpose and meaning and salvation—not just for him but for countless worlds teetering on the edge of oblivion.
Sunny listened in silence. He absorbed their words without reaction, his face a careful mask. He considered the life he would leave behind—the hollow conversations, the meaningless routines, the persistent numbness that had become his constant companion.
When at last they finished, the chamber fell silent. The avatars watched him expectantly, their inhuman patience evident in their stillness.
Sunny cleared his throat. His voice came out steadier than he expected.
"What is my gift?"
The question seemed to surprise them, three pairs of eyes blinking in near-perfect synchronization.
"Gift?" asked the first.
"If I accept this role," he clarified, "what do I receive in return? You speak of duty and responsibility. What about power? Ability? Compensation?"
The avatars exchanged glances, some unspoken communication passing between them.
"Anything," said the second finally. "Anything you desire."
"Within the constraints of cosmic balance," amended the third.
"No," corrected the first. "Anything. Truly anything he wants."
Sunny considered this. He thought about his apartment, his job, his friends. He thought about the emptiness that had grown inside him over years, the hollow space where passion and purpose should have resided. He thought about the crushing weight of ordinary existence.
"Fine," he said after a long moment. "Nothing really tying me back home anyway."
The avatars smiled in unison, their expressions too perfect to be genuine. The chamber pulsed once more, its impossible geometry seeming to fold inward upon itself.
"Then it begins," they said in harmony.
Sunny did not ask what "it" was. He suspected he would find out soon enough. As the chamber dissolved around him and reality began to shift once more, he wondered briefly if he had made the right decision.
But then, he reflected, when had decisions ever truly been right or wrong? They were simply moments that led to other moments. And this moment, at least, promised something different.
Something other than emptiness.
That would have to be enough.
---
He woke to brightness pressing against his eyelids. He remained motionless, aware that something fundamental had changed. The bed beneath him felt different—too firm, the sheets too smooth. The air carried unfamiliar scents: cedar and something metallic.
He opened his eyes. A rectangle of light hovered directly above him, approximately twelve inches from his face. Not a lamp or ceiling fixture, but a translucent panel of pure illumination suspended in midair. Within it, text began to form:
[INTEGRATION COMPLETE]
[GIFT STATUS: PENDING SELECTION]
[AWAITING USER INPUT]
He stared at the floating display. He raised one hand, finding his body unchanged—same lean build, same callused fingers, same faint scar across his knuckles from that fight three years ago. His black hair fell across his forehead when he sat up, confirming that physically, at least, he remained himself.
The room around him was spacious and minimalist. Stone walls polished to a marble sheen, a vaulted ceiling that captured and diffused natural light from unseen sources. The bed on which he sat occupied the center, with no other furniture visible. No doors or windows interrupted the seamless architecture, yet the room did not feel claustrophobic—it breathed with some hidden ventilation system.
The floating panel followed his movement, maintaining its position before his eyes.
'So this is real,' he thought, memories of the gods and their offer returning with perfect clarity.
He extended his hand toward the panel. His fingers passed through it without resistance, the light parting around his skin like mist before reforming.
"How do I select my gift?" he asked aloud.
[VERBAL INTERFACE ACTIVATED]
[GIFT SELECTION PROTOCOL INITIATED]
[PLEASE STATE DESIRED PARAMETERS]
"Parameters?" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The stone floor felt neither cold nor warm against his bare feet. "Explain."
[GIFT CUSTOMIZATION REQUIRES SPECIFIC PARAMETERS]
[AVAILABLE CATEGORIES INCLUDE:]
[PHYSICAL ENHANCEMENT]
[MENTAL AUGMENTATION]
[ENERGY MANIPULATION]
[SPATIAL CONTROL]
[TEMPORAL INFLUENCE]
[BIOLOGICAL MANIPULATION]
[MATTER CONVERSION]
[DIMENSIONAL ACCESS]
[UNIVERSAL COMPREHENSION]
He considered the options. The gods had promised anything—truly anything. This menu seemed comprehensive but ultimately limiting. He recalled their words: the emptiness inside him would resonate with the void he must face. The duty they had described sounded arduous, perhaps endless.
"I want everything," he said finally.
The panel flickered.
[REQUEST EXCEEDS STANDARD PARAMETERS]
[CALCULATING FEASIBILITY...]
[WARNING: COMPREHENSIVE GIFT PACKAGE MAY EXCEED HUMAN PSYCHOLOGICAL TOLERANCE]
[PROCEED? Y/N]
"Yes."
[CONFIRMED]
[INITIATING COMPREHENSIVE INTEGRATION]
[WARNING: PROCESS WILL CAUSE SIGNIFICANT DISCOMFORT]
[PREPARATION COUNTDOWN: 10...9...]
"Wait," he said. "I want to add conditions."
The countdown paused.
[ADDITIONAL PARAMETERS ACCEPTED]
[PLEASE SPECIFY]
"No limitations on power growth. No arbitrary caps. No hidden restrictions." His voice grew firmer with each demand. "Complete control over all abilities. Immunity to mental influence or control from any being, including the gods who brought me here."
[PARAMETERS RECORDED]
[THESE ADDITIONS SIGNIFICANTLY INCREASE INTEGRATION DIFFICULTY]
[MORTALITY RISK: 87.4%]
[PROCEED? Y/N]
He did not hesitate. "Yes."
[CONFIRMED]