And you have to sacrifice meal to me three times a day!" You stare at her, mouth agape as you process her words "Just...like that?" You say confusedly "So I shall grant you my divine protection as the god of this world, in exchange I want you to spread different cuisines and spark new ones! And you have to sacrifice meal to me three times a day!" You stare at her, mouth agape as you process her words "Just...like that?" You say confusedly She moves closer, her presence surrounding you. "Yes, just like that." Her fingers trace your face, cool and smooth against your skin. "I can sense your confusion, but trust me—this is an extraordinary opportunity. I could simply force you to do it, but where would be the fun in that?"
Her hand moves to your chest, resting lightly over your heart. "I can feel how your heart races. Fear, but also excitement. You're a cook, aren't you? I can taste your passion for flavors, for techniques." Her face darkens. "Your world was cruel to you, wasn't it? Always pushing you to be more, to create more, to impress others with your... artistry."
She speaks more gently. "Here, you will be worshipped for it. Your every creation will be praised as divine." She moves closer, her presence surrounding you. "Yes, just like that." Her fingers trace your face, cool and smooth against your skin. "I can sense your confusion, but trust me—this is an extraordinary opportunity. I could simply force you to do it, but where would be the fun in that?"
Her hand moves to your chest, resting lightly over your heart. "I can feel how your heart races. Fear, but also excitement. You're a cook, aren't you? I can taste your passion for flavors, for techniques." Her face darkens. "Your world was cruel to you, wasn't it? Always pushing you to be more, to create more, to impress others with your... artistry."
She speaks more gently. "Here, you will be worshipped for it. Your every creation will be praised as divine."w_run
Your mind envisions the title of a founder of culinary arts...your pulse pounding from her proximity as well as the thought of such a prestigious title. The woman's hand remains pressed against your chest, feeling the rapid thudding of your heart. She smiles knowingly, as if reading your thoughts. "Yes... 'Founder of Culinary Arts.' Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Her fingers trail lower, tracing the outline of your pectoral muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt.
"The first of your kind to bring true gastronomy to this world. The first to create dishes that will become... sacred." Her other hand cups your face, thumb brushing your lower lip. "I can feel how much you want this. The ache in your fingers from years of knife work. The pride when you perfect a sauce. The thrill when you introduce a new technique."
She leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Here, you can create without limits. Without criticism."The woman's hand remains pressed against your chest, feeling the rapid thudding of your heart. She smiles knowingly, as if reading your thoughts. "Yes... 'Founder of Culinary Arts.' Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Her fingers trail lower, tracing the outline of your pectoral muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt.
"The first of your kind to bring true gastronomy to this world. The first to create dishes that will become... sacred." Her other hand cups your face, thumb brushing your lower lip. "I can feel how much you want this. The ache in your fingers from years of knife work. The pride when you perfect a sauce. The thrill when you introduce a new technique."
She leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Here, you can create without limits. Without criticism." You notice the heat rising to your face as she speaks, her words coiling around you like silken threads. The prospect of what she offers—of being not just a cook but a god of cuisine—sends a tremor through your body. "I... I don't even know your name," you manage, your voice rough with emotion and proximity.
She pulls back slightly, studying your face with amusement. "Names are such... mortal things, don't you think? But very well." She straightens, the movement causing her silks to cascade around her like liquid shadow. "You may call me... Selene. The name suits me, don't you think? Moonlight and mystery wrapped into one."
She steps back, gesturing to the room around you. "This is merely a fraction of my domain." You notice the heat rising to your face as she speaks, her words coiling around you like silken threads. The prospect of what she offers—of being not just a cook but a god of cuisine—sends a tremor through your body. "I... I don't even know your name," you manage, your voice rough with emotion and proximity.
She pulls back slightly, studying your face with amusement. "Names are such... mortal things, don't you think? But very well." She straightens, the movement causing her silks to cascade around her like liquid shadow. "You may call me... Selene. The name suits me, don't you think? Moonlight and mystery wrapped into one."
She steps back, gesturing to the room around you. "This is merely a fraction of my domain."w_run
"So...you just want me to improve the culinary arts in this world?" You say cautiously "No strings attached except making you meals..?" Selene's laughter rings out, a rich, melodious sound that fills the room. "Oh, you are delightful!" She moves closer, her presence intense and almost overwhelming. "Of course there are strings attached. I am a goddess, after all." Her fingers trail along your jaw, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake.
"But they are not onerous. I simply require four meals a year - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert - prepared with the utmost care and creativity." Her face draws nearer, her breath whispering against your ear. "And in return, I will elevate you to godhood. You will be worshipped, your name sung in prayers, your creations hailed as divine." She pulls back, studying you intently. "Is that not worth a few meals a year"Selene's laughter rings out, a rich, melodious sound that fills the room. "Oh, you are delightful!" She moves closer, her presence intense and almost overwhelming. "Of course there are strings attached. I am a goddess, after all." Her fingers trail along your jaw, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake.
"But they are not onerous. I simply require four meals a year - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert - prepared with the utmost care and creativity." Her face draws nearer, her breath whispering against your ear. "And in return, I will elevate you to godhood. You will be worshipped, your name sung in prayers, your creations hailed as divine." She pulls back, studying you intently. "Is that not worth a few meals a year" Your pulse quickens as her fingers continue to trace the line of your jaw. The proposition is absurd on its face—you, a mere mortal chef, being offered godhood. Yet something in her words resonates deeply with you. The memory of countless failed dishes, of critics tearing apart your work, of struggling to innovate with limited ingredients and resources—all of it fades slightly in the face of Selene's promise.
"You're right," you admit hoarsely. "It is worth it."
Her face curves into a knowing smile. "I knew you'd see it my way." She withdraws, pacing slowly around the bed. The silks of her gown ripple as she moves, the fabric catching the flickering light of the nearby hearth. "But let us be clear—this is not simply a matter of preparing meals. I expect Your pulse quickens as her fingers continue to trace the line of your jaw. The proposition is absurd on its face—you, a mere mortal chef, being offered godhood. Yet something in her words resonates deeply with you. The memory of countless failed dishes, of critics tearing apart your work, of struggling to innovate with limited ingredients and resources—all of it fades slightly in the face of Selene's promise.
"You're right," you admit hoarsely. "It is worth it."
Her face curves into a knowing smile. "I knew you'd see it my way." She withdraws, pacing slowly around the bed. The silks of her gown ripple as she moves, the fabric catching the flickering light of the nearby hearth. "But let us be clear—this is not simply a matter of preparing meals. I expect you to push the boundaries of what is possible. To create dishes that transcend mere sustenance and approach the divine."
She halts, fixing you with an intense stare. "Are you prepared for that challenge?" The room fills with an otherworldly energy, and her very presence seems to vibrate with power. Your heart races, blood thrumming in your veins as the enormity of what she proposes sinks in. You're about to become something far greater than you ever imagined—an architect of taste, a god of flavor. And all it will cost you is a few meals a year. you to push the boundaries of what is possible. To create dishes that transcend mere sustenance and approach the divine."
She halts, fixing you with an intense stare. "Are you prepared for that challenge?" The room fills with an otherworldly energy, and her very presence seems to vibrate with power. Your heart races, blood thrumming in your veins as the enormity of what she proposes sinks in. You're about to become something far greater than you ever imagined—an architect of taste, a god of flavor. And all it will cost you is a few meals a year.w_run
"Yes...I'll take it" you nod frantically, afraid to miss the opportunity. Selene's face opens in a smile that seems to contain the entire universe—dimples appearing as her gaze brightens. "Then it is done," she says, her voice like the whisper of wind through ancient trees. She raises her hand, and the very air around you thickens and warms. Her presence presses against you, surrounding you like a second skin. You feel it—her power, her awareness, her essence—flooding into the core of your being.
The pain is excruciating and exquisite at once. It's as if your very soul is being remade, stretched and reforged like hot metal. You cry out, arching against the restraints, but her hand remains outstretched, channeling the transformation.Selene's face opens in a smile that seems to contain the entire universe—dimples appearing as her gaze brightens. "Then it is done," she says, her voice like the whisper of wind through ancient trees. She raises her hand, and the very air around you thickens and warms. Her presence presses against you, surrounding you like a second skin. You feel it—her power, her awareness, her essence—flooding into the core of your being.
The pain is excruciating and exquisite at once. It's as if your very soul is being remade, stretched and reforged like hot metal. You cry out, arching against the restraints, but her hand remains outstretched, channeling the transformation. You feel your vision go black, waking up in a grassy plain, the gentle breeze caressing your face as you feel a looseness in your body, as if you were a pro athlete You feel your vision go black, waking up in a grassy plain, the gentle breeze caressing your face as you feel a looseness in your body, as if you were a pro athlete You wake up on a grassy field You wake up on a grassy field You awaken in a lush, green field, the morning sun warm on your face. The transformation has left you feeling renewed and powerful, your body tingling with newfound energy. As you sit up, you notice your clothing has been replaced with a flowing, silken robe of pure white, adorned with delicate gold embroidery depicting various culinary motifs.
A temple looms in the distance, its spires piercing the blue sky. Its white marble walls seem to glow with an inner light, and the sweet scent of baking bread and spices wafts from its direction. As you rise to your feet, you find that you're standing on a path of golden stones leading straight to the temple. A young acolyte, wearing a simple white robe, hurries towards you, their face bright with awe and excitement. "Great Founder!" You awaken in a lush, green field, the morning sun warm on your face. The transformation has left you feeling renewed and powerful, your body tingling with newfound energy. As you sit up, you notice your clothing has been replaced with a flowing, silken robe of pure white, adorned with delicate gold embroidery depicting various culinary motifs.
A temple looms in the distance, its spires piercing the blue sky. Its white marble walls seem to glow with an inner light, and the sweet scent of baking bread and spices wafts from its direction. As you rise to your feet, you find that you're standing on a path of golden stones leading straight to the temple. A young acolyte, wearing a simple white robe, hurries towards you, their face bright with awe and excitement. "Great Founder!"