Just breathe, Greg. Just—oh shit! This is really happening, isn’t it?

I pinched myself. Then I remembered that pinching yourself isn’t actually a good way to check if you’re in a dream—a nightmare—or not.

What the fuck! What the fuck, what the fuuuuuck!

“Why don’t you take a swig, Greg?” Cosmo asked with a concerned expression. “It’ll help you calm down.”

I took the damn drink and downed it in one go.

Huh. It did help.

With a clearer—and slightly more inebriated—mind, I took in my current predicament. I was in a bar. The bar was in outer space. I was talking to a god. Well, a self-proclaimed god, anyway.

I rested my elbows on the bar top and rubbed my temples.

“I’m… gonna need another drink. Or ten.”

Cosmo snapped his fingers, and my empty glass refilled.

I laughed. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Right?” Cosmo said. “Imagine how I feel!”

“I was just looking for a drink, man,” I replied, throwing him a glare. “It’s been a long day. And now you’re talking about other worlds and gods and classes?”

“That’s right. Well, world, anyway. And they’re called Blessings, but yeah. Pretty much the same deal.”

I took a sip of the smooth whisky and tried to make some sense of this situation.

“Alright, let’s say I believe that you’re a god and that this is all real,” I said, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth.

“What, a bar in space and snapping my fingers to refill drinks isn’t enough? Tough crowd!”

I was about to counter with a witty comeback. Something about magicians and their inflated egos, but I stopped. What if he was a god? Or maybe an alien? As unlikely as that was, he had shown me some serious shit.

Glancing out the window, I could see galaxies in the distance.

If this was all an elaborate prank, I had to ask why? It would’ve cost a fortune to set all this up. For me? A literal nobody? Occam’s razor had a thing or two to say about that.

Then again, what was the simpler explanation here? A hoax? Or a god?

I downed another gulp. I wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this.

“Why?” I asked. That simple question that had been bothering me all this time. “Because I’m average? Is that it?”

The god leveled a serious stare at me.

“Look, Greg. There’s a whole laundry list of reasons why I picked you, and not one of them was because you’re average. I’m not forcing this on you. Say the word and I’ll stick you right back into your ordinary life. Just know that I chose you, alright?”

“That’s… Okay, fair,” I replied, surprised at his candor. His previously frivolous attitude was nowhere to be seen. At that moment, I felt like he might actually be exactly what he claimed. There was an… aura about him. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“So you picked me. Alright. What for, though? What, uh, what do you need me to do?”

Cosmo rested his elbows on the bar top and steepled his fingers. An all-knowing smile plastered his face.

Here it comes.

“Dunno!” Cosmo replied with a self-deprecating smile.

“Uh, you… don’t know?” I asked, bewildered. “Or you just won’t say?”

“Yes.” A moment of silence passed between us. Me, with a wary frown on my face. Cosmo, wearing a smug grin.

“I’m waiting for the punchline,” I said.

“Greg, buddy, you’re gonna be waiting a while.”

“No ‘Defeat the Demon Lord!’?” I asked. “Or my favorite, ‘I took pity and rewarded you for being a decent human being?’”

“I mean, maybe?” Cosmo replied, scratching his cheek. “That sounds awfully familiar, though. Where are you getting these ideas?”

“Well, there’s a country in this world where this sort of thing is—”

“Oh, right!” Cosmo said, slamming his palm on the counter. “I thought I’d heard that somewhere! It’s a real hoot, isn’t it? Wonder how the otakus would feel if they knew it was all real. Can you even imagine? This is your opportunity to play the harem protagonist!”

“And it was all going so well,” I sighed. Why’d he have to go and make this weird? “Besides, I‘ve never heard of a single case where the god summons the hero without saying why—”

“Hey, I never said anything about a hero. What’s with the delusions of grandeur?”

“Fair,” I said. “Summons a person without telling them why they’re there. Usually, it’s to fight some world-ending evil.”

I’d been hoping to get the god to slip some hint, but his grin only widened.

“Nice try!”

“Alright, so you won’t say why you need me. Fine. What about the world I’ll be entering? Is it the standard medieval fantasy fare? Swords and sorcery, elves and dwarves? The full Tolkien?”

“Believe me, you’ll love it.”

“Sure. And?”

“And I’m genuinely not gonna tell you about it!”

“You’re serious?” I asked incredulously.

“Greg, I’m so serious that you should be thankful looks can’t kill,” Cosmo said, looking like he was just barely stopping himself from laughing.

“You do realize I’m this close to walking out right now, yeah?” I replied, pinching my fingers close together. “You’re asking me to walk into this with a blindfold and earplugs.”

Cosmo’s expression dimmed a bit, and I wondered if I saw regret flash across his face for a split-second. But it must’ve been my imagination because he replied with another beaming smile.

“Isn’t that exhilarating for people like you, though? I know how much time you spend planning out your characters in those games you play. I know how stressful it is for you. Trust me, Greg. It’s better this way. Less angst.”

I’m gonna wring your goddamn neck.

I nearly said it, but somehow managed to keep my mouth shut. Whether Cosmo was some super advanced alien, or really a god, pissing him off didn’t seem like the brightest idea.

Deep breaths, Greg. I ran through some Qi Gong exercises before speaking again.

“I’m just going to talk out loud for a sec, if you don’t mind.” This was it. My final olive branch. If Cosmo didn’t give me anything, I was out.

“By all means!” Cosmo replied with his arms spread wide, that smile of his still clinging to his face.

“Alright, so. There’s a lot of different gods in the various mythologies. Omnipotent, flawed, and human. Depends on the pantheon. So, which are you? Norse? Greek? I don’t know my mythologies all that well, but if I had to guess—”

“As amusing as it is to see you try, I’ll stop you in the interest of time. I’m not any god you’ve heard of.”

“Okay, but you introduced yourself as a god. Not God. Which tells me you’re part of a pantheon.”

Cosmo’s eyes sparkled, but he said nothing.

“Come on! Say something!”

“Something!” Cosmo said cheerily.

You little…

“I get it,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, it all makes so much sense now. You’re… just an asshole, aren’t you? I know your type. You have a bit of power and you just have to flaunt it whenever you can. Bet you’re a small fry. What, the other gods bully you or something?”

My heart pumped like mad. The words started pouring out, and it felt great. “They got you chained up? Bet it’s gotta suck.”

A rush of adrenaline flowed through my body. I felt invincible.

And suddenly, I sobered up. That moment when I realized I’d just insulted a god—or at least someone who’d actually shown off powers that lent credibility to that absurd claim.

The worst bit? I didn’t even believe my own words. There was no logic to the insults. I was just spouting nonsense.

I’d let my irritation get the better of me. This ridiculous situation. The alcohol and my day’s frustrations. And Cosmo just generally being a cosmic ass… They’d combined to send me over the edge.

Nice going, Greg. You’re so dead.

“That’s quite a rude thing to say to a god you’ve only just met, you know?” Cosmo replied, but the humor in his voice told me he wasn’t offended. At all.

“Sorry,” I said hastily.

So, not like Zeus or Odin, then. I breathed a sigh of relief. They’d have struck me down at the first insult. Maybe I do get to keep my head.

“Just… I don’t even know why I bother. You’re giving me nothing here.”

“You bother because it’s your dream, isn’t it?” Cosmo said softly. “It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Was it? It was true, I’d often fantasized about being whisked away—it was why I read so many stories where the main character got transported to another world, despite my many gripes with them. Maybe what he said did have a kernel of truth. After all, I was still here, fruitlessly trying to pull teeth from his mouth.

I tried switching tracks.

“What can you tell me?” I asked.

“Well, I can show you what Blessings you’ll have to choose from,” Cosmo said, reaching up behind the upside-down wine glasses that hung from the ceiling behind his bar.

I was about to ask what he was doing when he pulled down a screen made of… papyrus? The screen was like those roll-down projector screens, but instead of being white, it was brown and had an enormous amount of texture to it. Like an ancient medieval map, except instead of imagery, there was text, written in cursive ink.

Blessing Selection

Scout [Common]: Masters of reconnaissance. While not as deadly as their higher-tier counterparts, they are quick and adept at avoiding detection. Cannot Evolve.

Perks:

— Grants the ability [Farsight]

— Slightly Reduced [Vigor] and [Dominion] Growth

— Slight boost to [Grace] when wearing light armor (Note: Equipment Stat modifiers bypass any stat debuffs)

Warrior [Common]: Warriors train in the way of the sword. They prioritize physique and bladesmanship above all else. Cannot Evolve.

Perks:

— Grants the ability to wield [Uncommon] bladed weapons.

— Slightly Improved Vigor Growth. Significantly Reduced MP Growth per Level.

— Slight boost to [Dominion] when wearing medium armor (Note: Equipment Stat modifiers bypass stat penalties)

Paladin [Common]: As an envoy of your god, you represent resilience, order, and strength. Cannot Evolve.

Perks:

— Grants the ability to wield [Uncommon] bladed weapons.

— Grants the spell [Bulwark]

There were dozens more, and I looked over them all, expecting something good to eventually pop up. That was usually how it was in games. There were generally a handful of classes—Blessings in this case—geared towards each play style. Those who enjoyed sneaking their way around and stealing stuff might choose a [Rogue] or [Thief] Blessing, while magic lovers might choose a [Mage] or [Sorcerer] Blessing.

“That’s it?” I asked, struggling to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Only a handful of the options looked even remotely decent, and nothing worked for what I needed—versatility. Not to mention that they all had a ‘Cannot Evolve’ message in the description.

“What do you mean?” Cosmo asked with a look of concern. Whether or not it was faked, I couldn’t tell.

“I mean these suck! No, actually, there’s a way bigger problem. Do you at least know if I’ll have to fight something? Like monsters and such? Or an army?”

“Bet you can guess my answer!” Cosmo said enthusiastically.

“Right,” I replied, deadpan. “Can’t tell y—”

“Wrong! I can tell you. But only sometimes.”

I paused. That was… unexpected. Maybe there was a reason he couldn’t tell me anything?

“So… You can tell me about the world, then?”

“I sure can. But I won’t.”

“Yep. Nice one. You got me.” I took another swig.

I was a moron for hoping.

“Look,” I said, feeling a lot older than I was. “I know literally nothing about this place. Other than the fact that it seems to be medieval, based on the Blessings.”

“So, what will you do?” Cosmo asked, resting his head on his clasped hands.

“Well, since my patron god’s given me so much to work with…” I said, my lips loose after my third glass. I was buzzed, for sure, but strangely, I was thinking as clearly as ever.

“If I picked a [Rare] or [Legendary] Mage build—I’m assuming those exist, because of the rarity tier next to the ones you showed me—what if you need me to become the richest merchant in the world? Lotta good that would do me. The opposite’s true as well. I can’t pick a noncombatant blessing if I have to defeat some big bad monster. That’s usually what heroes are summoned for, but with you refusing to say, it makes me wonder.”

“Interesting. Interesting,” Cosmo said, light dancing in his eyes. In this case, that wasn’t just a metaphor; light did move around within his eyes. It was… strange, to say the least.

“Which is to say, I need versatility. So there’s no way in hell I’m picking any of these Blessings. There’s gotta be others, right?”

“Well, no…” Cosmo replied, but his usual confidence was gone. He was hesitating, and I needed to know why.

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t just tease [Common] Blessings while pretending that there aren’t more.”

“Oh, there most certainly are!”

“But?”

“But they’re inaccessible to you.”

“Inaccessible,” I said, dragging it out. “An interesting choice of word. Not forbidden or restricted, or even unavailable. If they’re just inaccessible…”

An idea came to me.

“Are there any hidden blessings? Maybe gated behind some prerequisite or something?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Cosmo said, his smile broadening even further.

“What are they? Do I have to grow horns or something?”

“You’d willingly change your race?” Cosmos asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Er, that’s an option?” I asked.

“Not right now, no,” he replied, still looking bewildered.

So, not right now, but maybe eventually?

“What I meant was whether those blessings required me to be a particular race to unlock. Like a dragon or an elf.”

“Not quite,” Cosmo said, shifting his gaze to what looked like a microphone mounted on the ceiling. “But since you guessed that there are hidden Blessings all on your own, without any help or guidance from me, well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show you these…”

Cosmo reached to the right of where the Blessing roll was hanging and pulled out another similar roll. This one extended from the right to the left. On it was another list of Blessings. These not only had a rarity tier, but also a cost associated with them. Priced in points.

“Points? Really?” I asked. “Totally thought you’d have called it Cosmo Buckaroos, or something ridiculous.”

“That…” Cosmo said, his eyes lighting up, “is a fantastic idea!”

The words on the papyrus rippled and changed, making me instantly regret running my mouth.

Like the [Common] blessings, the list went on for a while.

Was it just me? Or were these descriptions getting weirder?

Artificer [Uncommon] Cost: 39,995 Cosmo Buckaroos

Artificers build stuff. Non-magical stuff. Boring stuff.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the attempt at humor, but you mind showing me the descriptions? Like the [Common] blessings had?”

Cosmo wrung his wrists. “I don’t know how to break this to you, kid, but…”

“Let me guess. You don’t feel like it.”

“This time, I actually can’t, even if I wanted to.”

“Huh.”

[Artificer] was on the right track, at least. With a crafting Blessing, I could build a variety of tools for different situations, but its description made it clear they had little to do with magic.

“Alright, c’mon,” I said. “Show me the good stuff. I want to see those [Rare] and [Epic] tiers you’re hiding. I’m guessing there’s two or three more above that, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command!” Cosmo unfurled another roll, this time from the left. It overlapped the previous two slightly. Then he brought out another, and finally a third.

“Now we’re talking,” I muttered, quickly looking over the new options.

The [Common] and [Uncommon] rolls had been all but covered up by the rarer tiers at this point. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t seriously considering those. Unless the rarer ones had some serious downsides, I’d be a fool not to pick them.

Of the [Rare] blessing, both [Smith Savant] and [Chronomancer] caught my eye.

Smith Savant [Rare]: Cost: 139,995 Cosmo Buckaroos

There’s no better blacksmith alive. The stuff you make will outlive you, and your grandkids will kill just to get a piece.

Chronomancer [Rare] Cost: 179,995 Cosmo Buckaroos

Remember Back to the Future? Then you’ll know that nothing good ever comes from messing with time. Probably why Chronomancers are so rare. And so feared.

[Chronomancer] could be a good fit. The ability to manipulate time was universally useful. Whether in battle, pick-pocketing, or even during negotiations—even if only to buy more time to think, it was nothing if not versatile.

Which is why I questioned its [Rare] tier. I’d have expected it to be at least an [Epic] or a [Legendary], leading me to wonder if there were severe restrictions that were hidden in the missing Details section.

[Smith Savant] seemed so close to what I needed, but it just felt like an upgraded [Artificer]. Without knowing for sure that it boasted magical properties, I couldn’t pick it.

Keeping [Chronomancer] at the back of my mind, I scanned the rest of the list. Sure enough, it was the [Legendary] and [Divine] options that caught my eye. As did their cost. The [Janitor] class was the only one that made no sense. Not only was it obscenely expensive, it was even higher than [Cosmomancer]. Judging from what I’d seen of Cosmo, I’d fully expected [Cosmomancer] to cost the most.

Janitor [Divine] Cost: 42,420,110,069 Cosmo Buckaroos

Just your average custodian. The noblest of professions…

Riiight. Let’s just ignore that one.

Aspect Deity [Divine] Cost: 2,262,501 Cosmo Buckaroos

As a Deity of an Aspect, you wield ultimate, invulnerable power in your domain. Assuming, of course, you don’t get vaporized by other deities who don’t take kindly to you crowding their divinity.

Administrator [Divine] 2,262,501 Cosmo Buckaroos

As the ultimate arbiters of power in the world, Admins can freely bestow and remove Blessings from others. Strap in, folks, because it’s time to snort some of that sweet, sweet, godly power.

There’s just one downside. If the previous Blessing would get you killed, this one’ll get the gods so angry, you’ll wish you weren’t even born! Trust me, soul erasures are not fun.

“You’re the one coming up with these descriptions, aren’t you?”

“Well, obviously,” Cosmo said. He looked around the empty bar. “Who else could it be?”

“Wait. Why would these gods care what Blessing I had unless they considered me a threat?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t attack you. But, well, did you read the description?”

“Yep. I can recognize a death sentence when I see one.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Cosmo said cryptically.

“So. How do I afford these classes?” I asked.

“Wish I could say,” Cosmo said, admiring his fingernails.

I did my best to avoid rolling my eyes.

“Look, I get it. You won’t tell me anything, but if I happen to guess something myself, will you tell me if I’m right? Wait, don’t ans—”

“Sometimes!” the deity said with a chuckle, seemingly pleased at his response.

“Alright then,” I said, ignoring his idiocy. “I’m gonna start throwing out random ideas. Earn Cosmo Bucks!”

“Sorry? What?” Cosmo replied.

Not that, then. Sometimes you could do things to earn points.

“Limitations. Restrictions.”

Cosmo didn’t react.

“Penalties?” I asked. It was a long shot, but some games allowed you to take on penalties in return for better rewards.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Cosmo exclaimed, before pulling up yet another roll. This was different. It was titled ‘Penalties.’

Well, shit.