After a moment of charged silence, during which the goddess's gaze shifted from Elara's defiant stance to Alex's diplomatic interjection, she finally spoke.
Her look was icy as she regarded Elara, a stark contrast to the warmth that suffused her expression when her eyes met Alex's.
"How were you perceived in your last life?" she posed the question, allowing the weight of her words to hang in the air, suggesting a contemplation deeper than the surface might imply.
"Good,"
she continued after a pause, "bad?"
The room held its breath, the significance of her inquiry dawning on us with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Then, focusing intently on Alex, she delivered a proclamation that seemed to resonate with the very essence of our new existence.
"You can become only as powerful as others once perceived you," she declared, her voice imbued with a gravity that left little room for doubt.
"Only those who were perceived as kind, confident, and had qualities of leadership should become true heroes. The others can only work hard in their next life to be better."
Her words, while aimed at all of us, seemed to crown Alex with a mantle of expectation. It was a revelation that introduced a hierarchy of potential among us based on the virtues—or lack thereof—we were associated with in our past lives.
This notion, that our capabilities in this new existence might be tethered to the perceptions others held of us before, felt both empowering and limiting. For someone like Alex, whose leadership qualities had always been evident, the goddess's statement promised a path to heroism.
For others, it suggested a journey of striving, of proving oneself worthy of the title "hero" not just to the world, but to oneself.
Gathering every ounce of confidence I could muster, I found my voice amidst the silence and uncertainty.
"How can we help if we can't be powerful?" The words tumbled out, louder and more assertive than I intended.
Heads turned, eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and introspection, as if my question had ignited a shared fear—a fear of facing death once again in this new world, this time due to the perceptions others held of us in our past lives.
The goddess's gaze shifted to me, a flicker of surprise crossing her divine features at my challenge. It seemed the notion of an average boy like me questioning the fairness of our new fate was unexpected.
Her response, when it came, was delivered with a cool detachment that belied the depth of her words.
"This is merely a starting point to grow from," she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Although some may grow faster, all of you can grow just as strong as one another with sufficient work."
Her words, while cold, offered a glimmer of hope in the daunting path that lay before us. It was a reassurance that, despite the initial disparity in our powers, there was room for growth, for change. That our fate in this new world wasn't irrevocably fixed by the shadows of our past perceptions.
The goddess paused for a few seconds after her declaration, her eyes sweeping across us with an intensity that felt like a silent challenge.
It was as if she was expecting—or perhaps hoping—that another among us would be brave or astute enough to voice further questions, to delve deeper into the complexities of our new existence and the conditions she had laid out.
However, silence reigned, a heavy, unbroken stillness that seemed to echo off the ethereal clouds beneath our feet.
A fleeting look of disappointment crossed her face, so brief that many might have missed it, but I caught the shadow of it. It was a look that spoke volumes, hinting at a desire for more from us, perhaps more understanding, curiosity, or even resistance. But the moment passed, and with it, any opportunity for further inquiry or clarification.
"I've had enough of this," she finally declared, her voice carrying a note of finality that brooked no argument
. "It's time to send you down. I will bestow upon you your powers one at a time. You will choose, and I will merely observe."
She introduced a new concept then, one that seemed to quantify our potential and our fate in this realm: the power of perception, measured from 100 to 0.
"You were born with 100, and it only goes down. However, some have surpassed 100," she added, her gaze briefly locking with Alex's, acknowledging his inherent leadership and the positive perceptions he had garnered.
Then, almost as an afterthought, her gaze shifted, sweeping over us with a penetrating intensity, as if searching for something—or someone—else hidden among us.
"And some have gone below 0," she concluded, her words leaving a chilling implication.
The range, extending beyond the boundaries she initially set, suggested that our actions, our choices, and perhaps the way we were perceived by others could indeed redefine our limitations, for better or worse.
"Alex, Elara, and the other confident one who spoke after them," the goddess called out, her voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd.
She paused for a moment, allowing her gaze to sweep over us, ensuring she had our undivided attention.
"Come up here, you will be the first to receive your power."
I felt a rush of anticipation mingled with disbelief. Watching Alex and Elara move with purpose towards her, I scrambled through the crowd, eager not to be left behind.
As I arrived alongside the other two, the goddess's gaze fell upon me, her expression unreadable.
"You really are average in every aspect, aren't you?" she remarked, her words slicing through my fleeting sense of pride. The hint of a smile I had managed froze on my lips, a pang of uncertainty replacing the excitement.
"Alex, it is your turn first. Come with me," the goddess announced, extending her hand towards him.
I watched as Alex stepped forward, his face alight with anticipation, ready to embrace his destiny. The moment his hand met hers, a white pillar descended from the sky, enveloping them both and cutting off any view of what transpired between them.
As the white pillar obscured Alex and the goddess from view, I stood there, momentarily frozen, her words echoing in my mind. "You really are average in every aspect, aren't you?"
The crowd's whispers and shuffles around me faded into a distant murmur, my focus narrowing to the sharp sting of her observation. My anticipation, once a bright flame, now smoldered under the weight of her blunt assessment.
Eyes glazed, I found myself adrift in a sea of introspection, grappling with the implications of being deemed "average" in a scenario where extraordinary stakes were laid bare.
What did it mean for my potential in this new world, for my ability to contribute to whatever grand design the goddess had in store for us? The pride I had felt at being called first alongside Alex and Elara dissipated, leaving a residue of doubt and a burgeoning resolve to prove that assessment wrong.
"I don't want to be average," I thought, a silent declaration ringing with newfound resolve. "I won't be average."
My gaze lifted, drawn to the white light that pierced through the realm, beaming into the never-ending starry sky above. The vastness of it, the sheer expanse of possibilities it hinted at, seemed to echo back my silent vow.
"Not in this life."
As the pillar of light gradually receded, dissipating into the air like mist under the morning sun, the goddess's voice sliced through the excited murmuring of the crowd.
"It is done, Alex. Move to the space behind me. Elara, come here," she commanded, her hand extended once again, beckoning Elara forward.
A sense of anticipation hung palpably in the air, only to be met with a collective sense of disappointment from the crowd. They had perhaps envisioned Alex emerging transformed, power visibly radiating from him, a beacon of his newfound capabilities. Instead, the light simply vanished, and the goddess prepared to bestow Elara with her power, shrouding them in another veil of light.
My attention drifted from the spectacle before us to Alex. He stood apart from the goddess and Elara, his usually confident posture slightly diminished. His face was etched with concern, his eyes cast downward in deep contemplation.
"What happened in there?" I found myself wondering, a myriad of possibilities racing through my mind. It was unlike Alex to betray any sign of worry or doubt. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up, our eyes locking across the distance.
For a fleeting moment, the worry seemed to clear from his expression, replaced once again by his characteristic, confident smile—a smile that offered reassurance and warmth, yet left unanswered questions lingering in the air.
His smile, though comforting, couldn't completely dispel the curiosity and concern that his initial expression had sparked.
What had transpired within that pillar of light? What power had been bestowed upon him, and why did it seem to weigh so heavily on his mind? Alex's momentary vulnerability, quickly masked by his reassuring smile, hinted at the complexities and potential challenges of the powers we were about to receive.
As the light surrounding the goddess and Elara dissipated, Elara emerged with her usual icy composure intact, a stark contrast to Alex's fleeting show of concern.
Observing her unchanged demeanor, I couldn't help but speculate, "Perhaps she got something good," a thought that involuntarily coaxed a slight chuckle from me.
However, my amusement was short-lived. "Come here," the goddess's commanding voice cut through my reverie, her hand extended towards me in an invitation I couldn't refuse.
My smile faded as I met her gaze, feeling a knot of apprehension tighten in my stomach. Unconsciously, I swallowed, nodding almost imperceptibly before taking a step forward.
Cautiously, I took her hand, and instantly, the light enveloped us both, a sensation eerily reminiscent of the light that had transported us from our school to this mysterious realm.
The familiarity of it did little to ease the flurry of emotions churning within me—curiosity, fear, and a burgeoning sense of excitement.
Surrounded by the enveloping light, I was suddenly transported into a space unlike anything I had seen before. The walls around me transformed into panels, reminiscent of television screens, each one flickering to life with information that seemed to pierce directly into the core of my being.
"Your Perception score is 56. When you first arrived, it was 50," a voice resonated throughout the space, its tone neutral yet carrying an undeniable weight of judgment.
"Truly average," it continued, each word echoing off the virtual walls, reinforcing the label I had unwittingly earned.
"If you had not spoken up, it would have remained that way. Not that 6 points makes much of a difference."
The words stung, a reminder of the goddess's earlier assessment of my mediocrity. Yet, as the voice spoke, a sliver of hope intertwined with the criticism.
"However, you are lucky," it conceded.
"Your score should not have changed here. However, it seems you may have had a small amount of vitality left before being transferred, although you would have died anyway."
The revelation was a lot to process. My spontaneous decision to speak up, driven by a mix of defiance and desire for clarity, had unexpectedly altered my Perception score.
It was a minor change, but the implications were significant. Not only had my actions in this realm begun to shape my destiny, but there was also an element of chance at play, a lingering vitality from my previous life that had granted me this slight advantage.
"How does this work?" I found myself asking, the confusion and curiosity too potent to keep silent.
In response, the goddess materialized beside me, her presence as commanding as ever, yet there was a hint of something akin to amusement in her tone when she spoke.
"It's essentially like those games you oh so loved," she began, a reference that immediately piqued my interest.
"Classes, stats, skills, and titles—your score can grant you skills and classes from the lists shown."
As she spoke, the panels around us flickered, displaying an array of options so vast it was almost overwhelming. Each panel was a window into potential paths my life could take in this new world, brimming with opportunities for power, growth, and transformation.
"Will the list to show you what you want, or to even scroll, filter, or organize, and it shall obey"
The parallels to the video games I loved were unmistakable—a sandbox of endless possibilities, where each choice led to new pathways, challenges, and rewards.
Yet, the stakes here were immeasurably higher, each decision not just affecting an in-game avatar but my very existence in this new world.
I approached the panels with a mix of reverence and determination, my mind racing with possibilities.
My gaze fixed on the goddess, the previous nervousness that had tinged my approach vanished, replaced by a newfound resolve. With narrowed eyes, reflective of the seriousness with which I now engaged in this monumental decision, I asked,
"How long do I have?"
The question hung in the air between us, marking a shift in my demeanor from uncertainty to determination. It wasn't just about the time I needed to make my choice but also a declaration of my readiness to take control of my fate in this new world.
The weight of her earlier words and the revelation of the system that would define my path forward lent an urgency to my inquiry. I was ready to step beyond the shadows of being deemed "average," eager to carve out a destiny that reflected my true potential.
"As long as you want; time does not flow the same in here as out there," the goddess responded, her voice steady, betraying no hint of impatience.
There was a brief pause, a moment of contemplation that seemed to stretch out before us. Then, turning to face me directly, away from the myriad of screens and the future they promised, she imparted a simple yet profound piece of advice,
"Choose wisely."
With her guidance echoing in my mind, I turned back to the screens, the options laid out before me no longer just a dazzling array of possibilities but a series of crucial decisions. "Choose wisely."
The goddess's counsel reverberated through my thoughts, a beacon as I navigated the vast sea of choices, each selection a building block in the foundation of my new life.
"If I have as long as I want, I may as well go through it all," I thought to myself, resolved to make the most informed decision possible.
With a newfound sense of purpose, I instructed, "Sort by tier, max to lowest."
Silence enveloped the space, a palpable anticipation hanging in the air as the screens flickered in response to my command.
After a moment, they stilled, displaying the options now organized from the most enigmatic and potentially powerful at the top, down to the most common.
"Confirmed: sorted from Unknown-SSS Tier to F Tier," the system acknowledged.
"Unknown tier?"
The category caught my eye, its ambiguity piquing my curiosity. As if attuned to my thoughts, the goddess elucidated, "Could be unbelievably powerful, could be weak.
However, they all can grow into strength beyond transcendent with enough effort. However, some never reach even average," she deliberately paused on the word 'average,' perhaps recalling our earlier exchange, "before dying of old age."
The concept of the Unknown tier fascinated me. It represented a gamble, a class or skill that defied conventional ranking and came with the potential for unprecedented power—or utter mediocrity.
I turned my attention back to the screen, my thoughts drifting to the countless hours I had spent immersed in video games, strategizing and balancing characters for optimal performance.
"The SSS tiers take up way too many points, all costing 100 points," I mused, realizing the stark parallels between those games and the choice before me.
There was a delicate balance to be struck between class and skill—if they didn't complement each other, I risked ending up with a skill too weak for my class's potential, or a class that couldn't fully capitalize on the strengths of my skill.
This wasn't just about picking the most powerful option; it was about synergy, about finding the right combination that would allow for growth, adaptability, and strength in ways that mirrored my ambitions and play style in the games I loved.
The realization brought a clarity of purpose. I needed to approach this decision with the same strategic mindset I had honed in gaming, considering not just the immediate allure of power but the long-term dynamics between my chosen class and skill.
Turning to the goddess, a critical question formed in my mind, one that could significantly influence my decision-making process.
"Can you learn skills or earn classes in that world naturally?" I asked, hoping for insight that might provide a strategic advantage or at least offer a broader perspective on how to approach this pivotal choice.
Her response came after a brief moment in which her eyebrow arched slightly, a subtle indication of surprise at my inquiry.
"Yes, you can," she answered curtly, her succinct reply revealing a depth of possibility that hadn't occurred to me before.
This revelation shifted the weight of my decision. Knowing that growth and advancement weren't limited to the initial choice made in this ethereal space opened up a world of strategy and planning. It meant that whatever class or skill I chose now was just the beginning, a foundation upon which I could build, adapt, and evolve based on the experiences and challenges I would face in this new world.
"That changes things," I murmured, the realization sparking a new strategy in my mind. Immediately, I shifted my attention from the average C-tier classes and skills, which I initially thought were within my limited budget of perception points, back up to the enigmatic Unknown classes and skills.
With the goddess's revelation that skills and classes could be acquired naturally within the world, the stakes of my initial choice shifted. It wasn't just about picking a safe bet anymore; it was about finding a starting point that could offer the greatest potential for growth and discovery.
With renewed focus, I meticulously searched through the Unknown tier, treating each option not just as a choice but as a gateway to untold possibilities.
The knowledge that I could supplement and expand upon this foundation through my actions and choices in the new world lent a weight of significance to every detail. Each class and skill listed under the Unknown tier was a mystery, a risk, and an opportunity all at once.
I turned my gaze once again back to the goddess, "The tiers of a skill or class are evolvable, right? If I meet certain conditions or train hard enough, they will evolve?"
A long sigh escaped the goddess, a sound that seemed to fill the space between us with a mix of exasperation and resignation. "Haaa," she exhaled, her gaze momentarily drifting as if to gather patience. When her eyes met mine again, there was a flicker of acknowledgment for my persistence, albeit tinged with annoyance.
"This is the last one I'm answering. The other two were not as annoying as you," she declared, her tone a blend of sternness and finality.
Yet, within that declaration, there lay the answer I had been seeking.
"Yes, they can," she confirmed.