Jared was officially done with the day.
His backpack weighed a ton, his feet hurt, and Ryan wouldn't shut up about some stupid book. Again.
"Bro, I'm telling you, the ending was insane!" Ryan walked backwards on the sidewalk, gesturing wildly with his hands. His eyes were pretty much glowing with excitement, and it unnerved Jared. "The hero gets the legendary sword, gathers his whole party, and they storm the Demon King's castle—"
"We know, Ryan. You've told us three times already." Esme rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She was used to Ryan's rambling by now.
Jared just grunted, staring at his phone.
"But the fight though!" Ryan continued, completely ignoring them both. "The hero unlocks his divine blessing, and there's this whole epic battle where—"
"Let me guess," Jared interrupted, not looking up from his screen. "The hero wins. The Demon King dies. Everyone celebrates. The end."
Ryan stopped walking. "Well... yeah, but—"
"That's boring." Jared finally looked up, his expression flat. "Sounds like every other trash fantasy story ever written. This Demon King is so fucking stupid."
"Dude, what's your problem?" Ryan frowned. "You haven't even read it!"
"I don't need to." Jared shrugged. "I already know how it goes. Some chosen hero with plot armor fights a dumb villain who just sits in his castle waiting to die. Same shit, different title."
Esme sighed. "Here we go..."
"I'm serious!" Jared's voice rose slightly, clearly frustrated. "Why do villains in these stories always do the same stupid thing? The Demon King knows the heroes are coming. He knows they're getting stronger. He has an entire army of demons, right? So why the hell does he just... wait?"
Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but Jared was on a roll now.
"If I was the Demon King, I'd hunt those heroes down one by one before they even learned how to swing a sword. Pick them off while they're weak. Burn their villages. Kill their mentors. Make them regret even thinking about being heroes." He scoffed, shaking his head. "Dumbass. No wonder he lost."
There was a pause.
Ryan and Esme exchanged glances.
"Dude," Ryan said slowly. "It's just a story. Chill."
"Yeah, seriously." Esme crossed her arms. "You're like, weirdly aggressive about this."
"I'm not aggressive, I'm right." Jared stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Villains in these stories are useless. They're written to lose. It's lazy writing."
"Okay, Mr. Literary Critic." Ryan rolled his eyes. "If you're so smart, why don't YOU write a better story?"
"Maybe I will."
"Sure you will." Esme smirked. "Right after you finish that essay you've been avoiding for two weeks."
Jared flipped her off, but there was no heat in it. "Whatever. I'm just saying, if I was in that world, I'd show that Demon King how it's actually done."
"You're no fun, you know that?" Ryan shook his head, starting to walk again. "You can't even let people enjoy things."
"I'd enjoy it more if it wasn't garbage—"
The horn blared too late.
Jared turned his head just in time to see the truck's grille fill his vision. There was a horrible crunch, a moment of weightlessness, and then there was pain. Blinding, terrible, searing pain.
His body hit the pavement and everything went red. He could hear screaming. Ryan? Esme? He couldn't tell. His chest felt crushed, and to his horror he couldn't breathe. He couldn't move either, as it felt as though his bones had broken.
Oh wow, some distant part of his brain whispered. I'm dying.
His last thought before the darkness swallowed him whole was absurdly bitter:
Of all the ways to die, I get hit by a fucking truck?
And then nothing.
~
Jared opened his eyes, and realized he was standing.
That was the first weird thing.
The second weird thing was that he was glowing.
He looked down at his hands, or what should have been his hands, and saw translucent, pale blue light. His whole body shone like a ghost, flickering at the edges, and he could see through himself.
"What the fuck...? Didn't I just get hit by a truck?"
He tried to move, but his feet didn't quite touch the ground. He was floating, suspended in nothing, strangely enough. The ground beneath him was smooth dark stone, stretching out in every direction. There was no sky, and no walls. Only an endless black void above and around him.
And then he realized he wasn't alone.
Several figures surrounded him.
Massive, and towering.
Jared's head snapped up, and his breath caught in his throat.
There were seven of them, arranged in a perfect circle around him. Each one stood at least twenty feet tall, their forms radiating power that made his skin, or whatever he had now, crawl. They didn't look human. They looked like gods.
One was clothed in golden light, six wings folded behind their back, and their face was hidden behind a featureless mask. Another was cloaked in shifting shadows. A third looked like living flame, with eyes twin infernos that burned without heat.
Jared's ghostly form trembled.
The arena, some kind of cosmic colosseum, was silent except for the faint hum of energy in the air. The gods, because what else could they be?, stared down at him, their gazes filled with judgement.
One of them stepped forward.
This one was different. Smaller. Almost human-sized, though still radiating that same overwhelming presence. They wore a black armor that seemed to swallow the light around them, and their eyes glowed crimson behind a cracked helm. When they spoke, their voice echoed like thunder in a canyon.
"You."
The sheer pressure of the word almost sent Jared to his knees. He tried to speak, but his throat was closed up. His entire body, his soul, felt like it was being crushed under the heaviness of that single syllable.
The god tilted their head, studying him with disdain filled eyes.
"You said the Demon King was pathetic," they continued, their voice cold. "You said he was stupid. Useless. That you could do better."
Jared's mind raced. How do they know that? What is this? Am I dead? Is this hell? Judgment?
"So we ask you now..."
The god raised one gauntleted hand, pointing directly at Jared's chest. The air around him then grew heavy, and the other gods leaned forward, their attention focused entirely on him.
"Do you have what it takes to become the Demon King?"
Jared stared up at the god, his ghostly form flickering wildly.
What?
"Answer, mortal."
The god's voice dropped lower.
"Or are you all talk?"
Jared opened his mouth.
No sound came out.