After that I... couldn't bring myself into focus. Attempt after futile attempt, I bade my senses to respond, but they refused. The few senses that I did have were no longer. In their place hummed the dull drone of inactivity; the fuzz of a weekend hangover; a blank sheet of nothing over my sight.
What happened? Was it a mistake to eat the basilisk? How was I supposed to know? How could I have known that it would drive me into a mindlessly ravenous frenzy so unhinged, that it would consume me entirely?
In hindsight, it's hard to fathom what I was thinking. Somehow, I was silly enough to risk engulfing the corpse in an exposed area like that.
There's no doubt about it. I'm an idiot. A right and proper one for not thinking things through. I've been floundering about this entire time, that's really my only excuse. It's a wonder I'm still alive.
Though that might not be entirely true. Incapacitation and the conceptual death are a little hard to tell apart from each other, considering the, πΊπ°πΆ π¬π―π°πΈ, blindness inherent to both. Given what's happened, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that I'm dead again, but as someone once said, "I think, therefore I am." My hat's off to you, to whatever sage that said that. You've saved me from a premature mid-life crisis after death. As absurd as that sounds.
Now, to bring us back to the matter at hand, 'how did I end up this way'. Assuming the basilisk's flesh contained some kind of poison, the likelihood of which is beyond probable at this point, there's very little I could do to mitigate its effects. Even if I were conscious, I neither know the antidote, nor have anyone around to make it for me. Needless to say, a troubled knot began to swell at the center of my being. I could easily die like this.
Am I dead, or alive?
"To answer that question... is it not obvious?"
"..!?"
"You are still very much alive and aware of yourself, if in a limited capacity."
I'll be honest, I've never been more alarmed at spoken words in all of my waking days. Words. They're scary things. But scarier still are the ones that they aren't my own. They had that familiar androgynous tone as the announcer for my skills, but lacking that sickly monotone it carried. Instead, this voice rang with a jovial deviousness you might hear from a precocious little brat.
In short, it grated on every nerve I had. Granted that was none, but still.
"Did I scare you? Oho, you're going to be entertaining," The voice practically chortled with glee, "As I thought you would be."
It was eerie how it lingered so close by. I didn't have ears, nor did I have the ability to hear at all, yet the voice passed through one side of me, out the other, and wrapped its tracery back around to where I could only guess was... my chest?
Ah. My human body is back. Looking down, I could see my naked self, limned in an auric gleam of grayish-white, like that of a fog. Is this what a soul is supposed to look like? It doesn't seem any different than when I was alive... or not. It feels so long since I've seen it, that I can't remember what I looked like.
"My, you're a rather pensive one, aren't you? Not that I mind. Brilliance only resides in a diligently honed mind and soul. But I'll have to distract you for a little while, so do pay close attention."
As the words' echoes ebbed away, a grayish... something materialized from the blank background of my torpor. At first, it began as a small nodule, something similar to an unshapen lump of clay, but as it grew, it took on various... abstract anatomies.
"This... is a lot more difficult that I had imagined..." The voice heaved out.
So it seemed, after something nearing an epileptic fit of convulsions. A split appeared where its mouth should be; ears reasonably placed on... the cheeks? Ah, it fixed it. Finally, two holes placed near where the eye sockets belonged. The finished product looked like a haphazardly constructed mannequin. Its missing nose was a little disturbing.
There were a lot of things left to be desired. Artificial, callous, unfeeling looking thing. As the voice spoke again, its mouth crackled, signifying that it belonged to whatever was inhabiting it.
"Hwoo, that was a little more tiring than anticipated. Though this should be a more convenient medium to converse with. Now... your face," It said, raising a misshaped hand to stifle a snort, "it's the picture of bewilderment."
It took a moment to collect myself, and now armed with composure I could think of my reply. I had a few choice words to say to this infuriatingly condescending thing.
"So the first thing you think to do after meeting a complete stranger is to laugh at them? Pardon my crude choice of words, but fuck you."
At this, the mannequin doubled over in a fit of laughter, "Pfft, forgive me, It's just that those little spinning cogs of yours are endearing. I don't mean anything ill by it."
"That doesn't make it any better... or any sense."
At the forefront of my mind was the obvious. Who is this? Why do they know what I'm thinking? How does it see my face, when I don't have one? And most importantly: how the hell is it inside me?
It would make sense if this was some hallucination, courtesy of the basilisk venom I most likely consumed, but it looks too real to be one.
"If it will reassure you, I am by no means a threat or here to mock you. Contrary to what you might believe, I'm here to welcome you," It said with a pacifying tone, "I also assure you that I am by no means an hallucination."
"Welcome me?" If this was a welcome, it certainly didn't feel like it.
The mannequin opened its arms wide. Specks of dust floated around as it moved, "Of course! After all, you're an auspicious guest to this world. It's only fitting that I welcome you to your new life here!"
I could only offer a contemptful laugh, "Ha. Welcome me? To what? To this? You mean hell's gamut of inconveniences and strife? Sure, thanks for the welcome party." I've only suffered severe memory loss and death, no big deal. Is that what it's trying to say?
The mannequin tilted its head slightly in a show of consideration, before returning my grievances with a quasi-apologetic shrug, "It may not be very appealing to you now, but rest assured it was your only choice. Not that you had one in the first place, seeing how you tragically lost your life."
Oh, how reassuring. Especially the part about how you know I died. Tragic? What about it was tragic?
"I suppose you could say the bulk of your troubles are my onus. Unfortunately, my hands are tied at the moment, meaning I cannot aid you directly. Not that I'll explain at length about those sordid little details... oh right, how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself," It made an elegant leg, bowing deeply before turning its empty eye sockets upward, towards me. Guess I wasn't going to get an answer to my question.
"I am the master of the multiverse, the grand designer. The God of the Hebrews, the Christians, and Catholics. Allah of the Islamic faith, the essence and being of Buddhism, even the many pagan religions of lesser known civilizations lost to antiquity. From one corner to the other of your world, across the Atlantic and Pacific, to every plane of existence beyond. I am all yet none, the giver of laws and the arbiter of nature," It paused, seemingly for some vain melodrama, "A word to define me: omnipotent. For I am the the God of Creation, Eliel!"
How annoying. While gods could afford hubris, this was way more conceited than what religions say they are. And what's with that introduction? Way too long-winded.
"I prefer to call it my pride as a god, you know?"
"No one asked." I spat.
"You don't have to be that way, although I can understand how you'd feel after hearing that as a human. Still, not many are graced with the chance to meet a god face-to-face you know? Think of it as an honor, will you?" Eliel said while attempting a disappointed pout, but instead pulled something more like a grimace on its ashen face, "that said, I cannot expect you to simply fall in line without some form of explanation."
Exactly what I'm looking for. I already have a working model for how this world works. It's a game, but... way too realistic to be one. Skills, monsters, humans... those monks. They're all very real. Surreal, now that I mention it, but definitely not a dream, as I had ruled out some time ago.
Now that I think about it, I took everything in stride, all things considered. Good job me.
"It is as you assume. This new world is my interpretation of what you, as an otherworlder, call a 'game'. When I first observed your world's contrivances- I must admit, your universe's concept of role-playing games fascinated me. So much so, that I thought I'd bring the idea to life," Eliel glorified, "skills, magic, monsters, villains, mysterious overlays, high fantasy and the hero's quest all decided on a roll of a die. Dare I say I fell in love with its novelties at first sight-"
"Please get to the point, you're starting to meander."
"Rude, don't you want to hear the history of my newest creation?"
"I'm not exactly in a cozy spot to be listening to a god's story. If you know how I died, then you probably also know that I'm close to death as we speak... er, think?"
"True, you are in a rut of sorts. Very well, I'll give it to you in brief," the god said with a rather defeated moan, "you have fallen into a frame of reference similar to what you'd know as Limbo. You might be familiar with the term. A state of being where the soul begins to degrade after a stymied death."
"Can't say I do." I'm familiar with the term, but since I've never experienced it before, I hadn't an opinion.
"Put simply, it neither moves on, nor does it remain in the body it belongs to," Eliel said, scratching its sharp chin as it began to circle around me with an analyzing posture, "in addition to that, you've become something quite interesting, which is imprisoning you within a theoretically endless cycle of soul dispersion."
"I see... not! How do you think I'd understand cryptic god-speak like that?"
"In that case, it's probably best if I leave you to puzzle it out for yourself."
I held back the irritation that sentence impressed on me, "Fair enough. If I don't die before that happens."
"Now, let me get to the point of our meeting here. You-are-needed. The world you've reincarnated into is something of a work in progress, but my aforementioned difficulties have left me... entirely preoccupied, and it's been left to its own devices for some time."
Reincarnation? I suppose that does make sense. Though I'd prefer to at least be a bird, or some honorable caste instead. But what could possibly tie down a god? That doesn't even seem possible.
"As such, I have need of you, young man," Elial continued, yet again stonewalling my perfectly valid question, "there was no other way."
"So you're foisting your own responsibilities onto someone else then? Isn't that a bit too irresponsible for a god?" Can a god be this irresponsible? Oh right, what am I saying, this thing is a god. What sort of responsibilities would they have? Were they even obligated to have any?
"What I mean to say is you, my softly figured friend, have a role to play in my creation."
I'm just talking to a wall now, aren't I? I have a feeling this god's trying to railroad me into something unpleasant.
"Save it for me." The smile faded from the mannequin's mouth. Somehow, I could tell it was speaking candidly, with a seriousness removed from before. A slight tremor took hold of me, a tingling sensation rippled upward at what was seemingly this god's commandment.
"What?"
"Save this fallen world in my place." It repeated, with no less solemnity.
"Can't you do that yourself?" This Eliel is a god though.
"I would," Eliel almost dryly, "but as I've mentioned before my time and power are precious at the moment. Oh... it seems our time is up. One last thing I should mention before we part..." The dust began to fall more heavily from the mannequin now, and it seemed to struggle to stand upright, "let me warn you, little one. The White Tower holds many secrets, as tall as the Stars, and as dark as the night around them. You'll have to climb that tower eventually, even if you despise those within."
"What? Is that all? Wait, could you at least tell me why I'm like this? And how am I supposed to save the world as I am?"
"I cannot tell you any more. It wouldn't be proper, after all, aren't you missing something?"
Missing?
"Your memories, perhaps?"
"That goes without saying..." I began to retort, but the mannequin blew away in a hoary cloud before I could finish.
Seriously, what a pain in the ass.