Name: Acerglyn

Gender: Female

Race: 9-Tailed Spirit Fox

User Access Level: Saint

 

In a stolen moment of clarity between screams and sobs, Acerglyn lay curled into a ball staring at the overlay that had greeted her when she spawned into her new life. It went on, of course, but this was enough to deal with for now. The rest offered options, and she was in no condition to make life choices. This top bit didn't offer any choice, and she was finding it hard to argue with. The System seemed to have a pretty solid grasp on reality, and screaming at it had not helped.

There was a niggling itch behind her left eye, like ants walking from her eyestalk to her brain. She acknowledged it, and the overlay switched to a messaging section.

 

Dear Acerglyn,

Sorry for pissing on your soul. Maybe I should have tried to soften that a bit, but I have a lot of experience in these morning-after apologies, and I find direct is the best. So yeah, it was a shitty thing that I did, and I'm sorry.

I would pat you on the head and offer you a boon for your next life, but now I see you are an unemployed Saint. I bet there is a story there.

Woah, ok, so I just took a closer look. Shit girl, you are not having a good day, are you? That is not the story I was expecting. Look, I am the God of shitty morning-afters. I can relate. I haven't destroyed a reality before, but yeah, wow.

I had you spawned in one of my shrines. Nobody is around, and it's safe there. Take some time. Shit. Take all the time you need. Burn the place to the ground if you feel it will help. Look, if I were good at mental health, I would probably be in a different line of work, so maybe do you.

Anyway, feels aside, you are a saint without a patron, and I owe you. Do you want to come over to the dark side? I have no idea what that means, but I picked it up when I was trolling through your previous life, and it sounded cool. I do get around, but I am pretty sure that I am not your father. That would make the pissing thing even weirder. Where was I? Right, job offer.

Here's the pitch:

SUMMONING FREE BOOZE, BABY! You're sold already, but it gets better. You also get to summon free food! IT'S ALL CARBS! CARBS ARE THE FUCKING BEST! We both know that you only went to church for the free little sandwiches at the gathering after mass in your old life. I have your number. We both do religion the same way! This is destiny, baby!

Downsides, you ask? None! I will probably ask you to do quests when I am sober enough to remember you exist and there is something near you that needs doing. I am certainly not going to stay sober enough to remember them if you decide to ignore one.

So yeah. You are in. We both know it. Just go back over to your status screen and slot my path into your sacral chakra.

Cheers,

Kuchachusha

This message is from the office of the God of fermentation and leavening. If it contains unsolicited offers of marriage, incoherent ramblings, or unwanted sexual advances, please disregard it in its entirety. There are known issues with our messaging system that we are working to address at this time. If you are a mortal without send access, please pour one out to your good buddy Kuchachusha while thinking of your response.

 

Acerglyn would find the time to feel mortified about slotting something into her sacral chakra later. For now, she would take the free booze.

❖

Acerglyn sprawled despondently atop the granite bar top of Kuchachusha’s abandoned shrine. It had been a few days since she had spawned for the first time, alone and screaming. She had only killed herself once since then. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she had hoped. Everybody she had known stayed dead, and there was no bliss waiting for her on the other side. The thought that her mother was sharing the love with Steve at the center of a singularity was still horrifying, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

A brief thought summoned another mug of mead. As superpowers went, it was ok. Acerglyn would have preferred an amber ale. Maybe if she practiced enough and her skill leveled up, she could have one. She had been pretty diligent in her practice so far, but it had only increased the strength of her hangover. The problem with needing to think to activate the summons was she could only practice so much at a time. I can probably get a few more in before I pass out again.

❖

Acerglyn dumped her naked corpse into the shallow grave she had dug behind the shrine. She had been trying to ignore it while she drank herself into oblivion, but the stench had driven her to action. There weren't any tools around, and everything left at the shrine had decayed with time. Digging the hole with an old barrel stave had taken her the better part of yesterday and this morning. She would look forward to getting this over with, but she wasn’t ready for that kind of positivity.

The corpse stared at her with its buttered rum eyes, swollen from sobbing and decay. Acerglyn briefly considered trying to close them, but she couldn’t work up the energy. For now, staring deathly back would have to be enough. Should she say something? Judge herself? She started kicking dirt into the hole. She still had to clean the bloodstain out of the cracked shrine floor with her corpse’s starter robe.

❖

Acerglyn watched the tranquil flow of the narrow stream that ran through the overgrown orchard surrounding the shrine. In a world with respawning, is it easier to drown yourself or do laundry? Getting the hardening sick out of her robe and fur was going to be a chore, but respawning and remembering drowning seemed likely to have her standing back here tomorrow facing the same choice. Luckily, she supposed, she had been sustaining herself by summoning honey oatmeal bread and mead for the last couple of weeks, so the spew was more swill than stew. Thanks to this new body, there aren't even any weird corn bits. Decision made, she took off her robe and entered the stream.

From the soles of her feet, Acerglyn was coated by thick coquito-colored fur until cutting to stout-colored skin, which started at her shoulder blades and plunged to where, had she been born, her navel would be. The fur protected her slight modesty and kept the crisp spring water from penetrating through to her skin. She drifted face down and watched her matted armpit-length hair float away from her in the current. I thought the tails were weird, but these ears are insane. I can hear that fish laying its eggs in the silt. Acerglyn blew out the last of her air and stayed laying a moment longer before standing up and getting clean.

❖

A shrill growl pierced the morning calm as Acerglyn took her barrel stave to battle against the orchard. The newly ripe apples had been taunting her for days. Not that her honey oatmeal bread wasn't delicious, but some variety would be nice.

Even had she been Jack's old height and not the sort of lithe pixie that gives otaku wet dreams, the apples would have been out of reach. Climbing the trees wasn't an option. They were evergreens, and the less Acerglyn had to say about trying to get the sappy needle gunk out of her fur, the better. Besides, hitting something just felt so fucking good. Fuck these trees. Fuck this shrine. Fuck this life. Fu HA got one. Her victory was sweet, but it tasted more like a nutty pear than an apple.

 

>> You may now combine pear apples into your summoned food and drink.

 

"I have consumed my enemy and stolen its power! Tremble before me!" Acerglyn yelled before falling to her side and hysterically laughing. Fuck this life.

❖

Acerglyn sat slumped against the outside wall of the shrine, staring off towards the stream while sipping a pear apple cider. She had settled into a routine, and staring at things was a large part of it. There wasn't much else to do. She supposed she could go back inside and lay on the bar top, but there was a nice patch of sunlight here, and it was pleasantly warm.

Things had been going OK, Acerglyn supposed. It had been a few days since the last time she had woken screaming and crushed with dread and loathing. Those feelings weren't gone by any means, but sitting in her patch of sun, she felt they were a little less. Why would you do anything when nothing can make things better than they are?

"Fuck! Fuck that guy!"

❖

"I could have had a mattress the whole fucking time!" Acerglyn screamed. Or a shovel. Or a shovel and a mattress. Fuck. I should have played with this thing sooner. Choosing your paths wasn't supposed to be easy, Acerglyn felt. Maybe acknowledging you are a fucking moron is the first step.

The spiritual plane chakras hadn't even had any options available. The System Administrators had each designed her a path when they were tinkering with her soul. She could have chosen them months ago. 

 

Crown: The Path of Magic and Wonder

"You came to me a pathetic crawling thing with no magic, and in my beneficence, I have set you free" - Uchawi Na Ajabu.

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: Find your sense of wonder.

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• You have been granted saint-level access to the Divine Creation Shop.
• A one time gift of 20 Divine Points (DP)
• A stipend of 1 DP per day.

 

Third Eye: The Path of Logic and Reason

"I figured that if you were going to be stuck on Uchawi's path, you could use all the help you could get" - Mantiki Na Sababu. 

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: Find your reason. 

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• You have been granted saint-level access to the System App Store.
• A a one time gift of 20 Divine Points (DP)
• A stipend of 1 DP per day.

 

Throat: The Path of Eternal Nature 

"It's never overreacting to ask for what you need" - Amy Poehler, stolen by Asili Ya Milele.  

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: Find your community. 

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• The System automatically generates a universal translation layer between you and whomever you are speaking with. The translation is seamless, and neither party will notice the System's assistance.

 

Acerglyn wondered if Asili Ya Milele was stingy or just a smartass.  She had 42 DP to spend now, so it could go either way. I should get a towel from the creation shop. Acerglyn briefly looked, and the shop had everything, literally. Spaceships started at 5,000 DP, but tanks were only 500. Huh, you can buy a world-level apocalypse for 15,000. I could destroy this world in 21 years. It took me 46 to do the last one. Though, I suppose that was a universe.

 

>> Set becoming a destroyer of worlds as your reason for The Path of Logic and Reason?

 

No, fuck off. Acerglyn glared at the prompt, then switched back to the status pane. She supposed if nothing else, the prompt was a friendly reminder to stop procrastinating.

Her choices started with the Heart Chakra, the bridge between planes:

• The Path of the Void Heart: You have guided an entire universe into a state of entropy. You have stood outside reality and watched as it spun and fell to nothing. The void may have expelled you, but an apathetic piece of you was left behind, timelessly waiting for it all to end.
• The Path of the Divine Messanger: You only signed up for the free booze, but you did agree to work for Kuchachusha. You might as well embrace it and become a bridge between the spiritual and the mortal planes. Who better? You are a mortal that comes back to life after all. Sure, the messages will probably be the equivalent of drunk dialing your ex at 3 AM, but don't let that stop you.
• The Path of the Divine Trickster: You are a fox spirit. Turning tricks is in your blood. Ha, did you see what I did there? This path is just like that.
• The Path of the Divine Tinkerer: This one time, you and your buddy destroyed all of God's creation by toying with forces you could not possibly understand. You did not fail. You just found out how not to do it.
• The Path of the Wild Heart: Before you killed them all, you were getting kind of done with people. Given a second chance, you have spent the last three months living a solitary life and incoherently screaming where nobody is around to hear. Maybe it's time to admit that spending the rest of your life living in a cave wouldn't be so bad.
• The Path of the Wandering Heart: You have walked through multiple realities and unrealities, but you are not yet ready to stop. Walk on, wanderer.

There were some obviously powerful options here, but Acerglyn didn't really care about power. She was only looking at this because she was done stagnating. Her choice was clear.

 

Heart: The Path of the Wandering Heart 

Your feet are itchy, and it's not just because they are covered in fur.   

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: Walk on, wanderer. 

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• You walk the line between spirit and mortal. Be what you need to be to walk where you want to walk. Run with the animals, flow with the breeze, mingle with the people. Change your form to match the path you walk.

 

Acerglyn jolted as knowledge seeped into her being. She had known her body was only a vessel for something else, but now she knew how to change that vessel. The next time she lay in the stream, she could just become one with the water to get clean.

The chakras for the physical plane were next. She still had two of three paths to decide on.

First up was the Solar Plexus Chakra, the manifestation of her willpower:

• The Path of the Drifter: You go with the flow, just doing things because others expect you to. Why make your own choices when you can take the easy road and do what's expected.
• The Path of the Absentminded: It's nice to have goals. Why limit yourself to just one? Why not have all the goals? Surely, that's better. Wait, is that a squirrel?

Acerglyn hadn't been expecting an iron will option. She got that these paths were just extensions of herself, but come on.

 

Solar Plexus: The Path of the Absentminded 

Hey, look! Something shiny!

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: Make up your mind to do something, then try your best to get it done. 

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• You jump from one thing to the next without much care. Sometimes between one moment and the next, you have completely changed direction. Why waste time with all that transitioning? You can teleport to the places you have already been so you can do the things you just remembered you should have done.

 

The info dump for this one was even worse than the last. She could unmake her vessel and place it back somewhere else. There was no transition, but there was something truly cold in between. She was pretty sure it was her.

She had already given her Sacral Chakra to Kuchachusha:

 

Sacral: The Path of Kuchachusha's Entourage 

"Let's eat, drink, and be merry! I've got the bill. Just hold my hair later when I need to puke." - Kuchachusha.   

Path Progression: Onboarding

Progression goal: Do something that brings Kuchachusha out of His stupor long enough to notice. 

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• The System automatically generates a universal translation layer between you and whomever you are speaking with. The translation is seamless, and neither party will notice the System's assistance.

Your reward for continuing the path and starting to learn its ways:

• Ha, you really beat the shit out of that tree. I haven't seen something that funny since, well, I don't remember. But that's not unusual. Wait, there was that dwarf that tripped over its beard trying to chase a bunnykin's tail. Where were we? Right, rewards. Sometimes the ingredients you eat will allow you to enhance your summoning. Create your own booze! Spice up that bun in your oven!

 

Lastly, the Root Chakra, her path to safety and stability:

• The Path of Rage: Safety and stability? Fuck that! If someone tries to knock you down, you are going to return the favor! You just come back from the dead anyway. It doesn't matter how many corpses you have to stack up. Eventually, the motherfucker will pay.
• The Path of the Laborer: You had a job once. Sure it was a bit soul-crushing, but it paid the bills. Get a job, you slacker.
• The Path of the Immutable Soul: Your soul has been tempered by the void. A piece of it is forever beyond the reach of time and space. Though you may bathe in the waters of the river of reincarnation, it will never cleanse you. You have stood beyond and seen existence spinning around you. Plant your roots deeply between all things.

Oh yeah, I'm definitely taking the wage-slave option.

 

Root: The Path of the Immutable Soul 

“The ever-present you is at home everywhere and always.” - Bert McCoy.   

Path Progression: Discovery

Progression goal: You probably have a better handle on this than Us. When you figure it out, let Us know.

Your reward for the discovery of the path:

• They say you can't take it with you when you're gone. They are wrong. You've got a pocket dimension for a storage unit. It's 10 meters by 10 meters by 5 meters.
  • You can not weaponize the pocket dimension to cut people in half. Don't try storing any planets. Time passes inside equivalent to time outside. Your food is going to rot. Clever tricks to try and turn your pocket dimension into an unlimited power source will fail. Honestly, it's kind of scary how many limits We need to place on this thing. Yes, you can live in there, you damn hobo. We figured out the air filtration and gravity for you. Aren't We nice? Oh, We just realized that the planet will have moved if you go in there and come out in the same place. Uh, the entrance to the pocket dimension will bind its coordinates based on whichever vehicle you enter it on. Go ahead and bring guests. You can not bind your soul in there. We are not sorting out the logic on that. You are safe to store dimensional storage items. That should work just fine.
  • Look, honestly, trying to figure out all the stupid things you are going to do with a pocket dimension is making Our brains hurt. Just don't be a jerk, or We will stop giving you nice things. It's a room that you can put stuff in that exists in a different dimension. Treat it as such.
  • Actually, We are drywalling over the limits of the dimension. We just realized if you dragged someone else in there, having them stare at the void surrounding it would probably result in insanity. Uh, we will put a sweet ass variable color light field in to make up for it. You can control it in your System overlay. May as well let you control the temperature that way as well. Drywall floors are weird, parquet maybe? Too much work. Oh, this winter oak laminate looks nice. We are beginning to see why you liked that Sims game. We need a door with an integrated dimensional portal to take you back out. There, now it's just a room. Go ahead and paint the walls.

 

Acerglyn hadn't been certain until now, but the Aunties, err System Administrators, were definitely controlling her paths. Where had that come from? I'm running with it. Aunties it is. I should write them a thank you note before I go.

Being thankful was strange, but Acerglyn was giving it her best. She wasn't great at letter writing either. When was the last time I actually talked with mom? Nope, keep it on track. Let's keep on track. Letter to the Aunties, you've got this. Oh good, they did leave contacts in the messenger. I don't need to figure out some weird ritual. Do I write one to Kuchachusha? And say what? Hey Uncle, thanks for the place to crash and all the mead? Fuck it, why not.

Messages sent, Acerglyn and her precious barrel stave popped out of existence.