When Senna opened his eyes again, he found out that he wasn't in the ruin anymore.
"Don't tell me I got reincarnated again?!"
"Oh, Lord no. I'm just borrowing your soul here for a bit of a chat." A deep voice unexpectedly responded to his yell.
The place Senna was currently in looked like a hall in a medieval castle. It had that feudal architecture to it.
Tall walls and pillars surrounded the vast space. High above, a stained glass dome covered the ceiling. The lighting mainly came from the rays filtering through it.
What caught Senna's attention the most, however, was the grand chandelier hung across that glass dome. Glittering crystals decorated its frame and created a mesmerizing light pattern as it rotated.
"Welcome to my abode."
"Who's talking?"
"Here, on your right. Sorry man, I messed up badly."
Senna shifted his head to where the masculine voice came from. "What the?" he exclaimed as he noticed a sight that didn't match the setting at all.
A PC set was set up on a platform near what looked like a throne. 'Looks like a gaming rig,' Senna commented. Three monitors were fitted over the table and numerous devices and accessories were clustered around them.
Next to it all, a cozy couch and a refrigerator were placed close to a gaming chair. It seemed the person sitting on it was the source of that voice.
"Yo. Sorry for dragging you here without any explanation," the person said. It was a young man with messy dark hair wearing an Ahegao hoodie.
"The heck are you?" Senna voiced his apprehension. The guy was just way too suspicious considering his circumstances.
"I'm the… what do they call it again? Admin?" he answered with a tone that indicated he wasn't sure of it himself. "Basically, I'm the one who managed this world you arrived at. Along with your old one too."
"Managed? You're saying you're a god or something?"
"God? God, huh… Not sure I qualified for the word." He stood up from his chair and walked toward the nearby couch. "Here, sit down. It's been long since I had a guest."
Accepting the offer, Senna sat beside him. He had already seen far too much weirdness during the last few hours he was awake. Heeding this weirdo's words wasn't much of a problem to him at this point.
"Guess we need an introduction for a proper convo, right? The name's… hmm, let's go with my most popular Earth one. You can call me Nyaru."
"What? What kind of fucked up name is that?"
"Hey, hey. Don't go dissing on my name immediately like that, man. That's a new record." The guy looked offended. "It's a contraction of Nyarlathotep. Hard to say, right? That's why I prefer being called Nyaru."
No, that still didn't make sense. How was that a contraction? If anybody else heard it for the first time, they would think it was just a cringe attempt to make a name sound cute.
Like those guys who used anime girl pictures on social media.
"Hold on. Did you say Nyarlathothep? The eldritch god?" inquired Senna. The name was popularly used as a moniker for entities in the horror genre.
"Yeah, that's right. Man, that name blew up in popularity recently, yeah? It's neat. But that's not what we need to talk about right now."
Nyaru raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. *Click*
"You called, boss?"
"Wha—You!?" Senna jumped in surprise and fell from the couch on his butt.
A box truck suddenly emerged from what seemed like a portal behind them. It was the same truck that chased him around the night before.
"Haha, you already knew him well, but let's properly introduce you two together. This is my agent on Earth, Truckie."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Farron. I apologize if I scared you last night," the truck's voice was heavy and adorned with an echo. It seemed it was truly its voice and not just from someone inside it.
"Scared me? Scared ME?! You freaking murdered me you psychotic truck!"
"Ah, please don't blame Truckie for that. He was just doing his job," Nyaru intervened. "It was up to him to send destined souls to their proper worlds, you see?"
"That so? Then, I don't know, maybe I could use like, a warning or something? A notification? An email? You got the equipment right here!"
Senna pointed to the gamer set next to them, active and ready to use.
"Ah, yeah… about that…" Nyaru sounded hesitant. "It seemed there was a tiny mix-up in the procedure."
'What does that even mean?' Senna held his thought. He would let this self-proclaimed admin explain himself first.
"You see, the one who was supposed to be reincarnated and become the Hero in that world is the robber you picked up in the jewelry store."
"…For real?"
"Boss, you're saying I killed the wrong person?!" Truckie boomed with shock.
"That's the case, Truckie. I won't lie to ya." Nyaru bluntly gave it to the truck. "You must be wondering how such a mistake could be made right?"
"…Let me guess," Senna glanced at the computer. "You got distracted online?"
"…"
Nyaru blatantly looked away awkwardly and stared at Truckie like he wanted to say something.
"Boss Nyaru is a professional esports player, Mr. Farron. He couldn't afford to let down his teammates because of a personal matter."
"Like I care for that! I died because of an online match?!"
How audacious. How could a God like this be considered acceptable? A heavenly law needed to be put in place to prevent godly Admins from playing during godly work hours!
"Let's calm down before we get too heated to continue, alright?" Nyaru pleaded. "I'll be honest with you, something like this had never happened before. Normally not just everyone would reincarnate just because Truckie gave a visit, you see?"
Senna decided to at least hear him out. There wasn't any more thing for him to lose after all.
"Wait, so normally I would just 'die' when Truckie struck me?"
"Err... Normally that would be the case, yeah. Only people with a Fate Level high enough to pass the threshold would be able to survive a reincarnation," he paused. Glancing at Truckie, he continued, "This was the first time a case like this happened. It seemed you somehow sapped the Fate Level of the robber and made it your own. That was the reason why Truckie mistook you for him."
That honestly sounded like a stretch. What was he, a destined sponge? Sucking in Fate Level from unfortunate souls?
"It is still my mistake, Boss Nyaru. Mister Farron, I still deeply regret causing you so much trouble. Please forgive me," the truck somehow managed to bow its front compartment in what seemed like a bow.
It appeared it was a rather honorable truck. Senna was impressed by the polite mannerism that contrasted heavily with the terror it gave him that night.
"What's done is done. So what about you summoning me here?" Senna went back to the first matter he wanted to figure out.
"Well, of course for an apology and explanation, you know? You must've heard a voice telling you about your power."
"I did. It—She told me I got this stupid taxi driver system." Senna changed the way he addressed the voice. It sounded feminine enough—and chatty enough—to properly call her a 'she.'
"She? She, huh… Right, you are so unique even the guide acted differently. Normally they are far more stoic and all business. I never saw one that like to talk so much before," Nyaru confessed.
It didn't matter much to Senna either way. If this 'guide' of his could help to understand his power, then he wouldn't mind whether it was an introvert or extrovert.
"I saw the power you're given, don't worry. It surprised me too. I couldn't imagine anything heroic from the name alone."
"Can't you, I don't know, assign me another one?" Senna barely held himself back from begging.
"Nope, can't do." Nyaru shrugged his shoulders. The gesture irritated him. "Ah, don't get mad. I literally can't do anything about it. Each person is automatically given one based on their aptitude. It's not like I manually assigned it to you."
Hearing that made Senna's spirit drop. How disappointing. His day was totally ruined.
"Mr. Farron, being a driver sounds great! It must be a fun job to have!"
"Shut up, Truckie. You're a literal truck. I'm not taking any biased opinion," Senna spat.
"Anyway, even I don't know much about it. Maybe if you grow stronger you'd understand more about why you, a hero, were given such power." Nyaru stood up and walked toward the raised chair in the center of the hall. One that looked like a throne.
"Come here, I'll send you back. It's not good to pass out too long in that open spot. A Spotted Tiger could come and eat you up."
"What?"
"Never mind. Oh, can I get a friend request? Who knows, maybe I can give you advice down there. Think of it as compensation for the mix-up."
"Oh, uh… Sure?"
Senna joined Nyaru and took out the smartphone in his pocket. There was a disconcerting warning between his words but the nerdy god quickly dismissed it.
"Is CIRCLE okay? It's my main texting app."
"Of course. I signed up for a lot of apps in my free time. I'm basically online on almost every popular platform nowadays. You should check out my Blink account sometimes. I stream daily FPS gameplay."
What a good-for-nothing admin. Was this guy the reason why the world needed saving, to begin with? 'Aren't you supposed to supervise shit or something?' Senna looked at the supposed deity in disdain.
"Oh, me! Can I get a friend request too? I'll be able to help!" Truckie excitedly chimed in. Its front wheels were raised and spun rapidly.
It honestly looked like those cartoon cars on TV programs made for kids. Senna was in disbelief that this thing could terrify him so much that he felt like he gained a trauma.
"How would that work? You're a freaking truck."
"I already sent my request, Mr. Farron."
He looked back at his phone. True enough, 'Truckie sent you a friend request' was displayed on his screen.
It was at this time that Senna finally learned to let go of his common sense, in this new life of his.
"Before you go, I saw that you gained tons of Progression Points. If I may suggest, you should prioritize your magical stat and mana count," Nyaru said as he raised his index finger. "Your power has a slight… problem with fuel efficiency."
"Fuel efficiency? Are you talking about magic?" Senna asked for clarification.
"You'll understand it as you go. I think learning by first-hand experience will be more helpful than me telling you directly. Good luck."
In time with his farewell, a bright light shone from within Senna's body. The lightheadedness he felt before returned. As his vision grew blurred from both the blinding light and dizziness, he heard from Nyaru his last words:
"I don't know whether you can be the hero the world needs, Senna. I just hope that your being there would help steer the fickle fate in the right direction. After all, if nothing is to be done, the only destination it would arrive at would be utter destruction."
"That's just too many red flags in one sen—"
Without waiting for him to finish the complaint, Senna's consciousness went dark once again.