A prophet? Isaac asked. What does that mean, exactly?

“A prophet is one who has received the blessing and sigil of a deity. This strengthens them and grants them special abilities and authority, depending on whose prophet one is. A god can only have one, though. This means you will outgrow the heroes and get magic that will aid your duties on our journey, both in combat and outside of it. And-Oh, hold on.”

Isaac suddenly felt his eyes being forced open. The darkness vanished away as the hospital room that had been his home came into view. He was back on his old body.

“There you go. This will be a longer discussion that I had anticipated. Holding someone’s soul can be exhausting.”

The man noticed that the clock that hung on the wall in front of his bed had stopped. So had the raindrops that clung to his window.

“You can stop time?” Isaac asked, and this time he was doing so aloud. He could speak and move his body again, if only so slightly.

“No. You are frozen in time. The rest of the world is not. It might sound the same, but it is completely different. Do not think too much about it; mortals are not meant to understand. You can think of this as being inside your mind’s last moments.”

The old man felt the weight of someone sitting on the side of the bed. When he looked, he saw a vaguely feminine shadow with massive wings casually standing there. He shook his head, not even bothering to ask what was going on. It did not matter to him.

“Adaptable.” Tyrannia took notice. “Good. Back to our discussion, that is what a prophet basically is. A deity’s chosen one. I will not lie to you. It will not be easy, even with that kind of power. It will be us two against all of my siblings, and practically the world.”

“No, no, that’s okay. I understand that much.” He replied. This was as much of a chance for him as it was for her. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Yes. For starters, I will be able to escape, thanks to you. I will use your soul as an anchorage and... Well, it is a complicated magical process, but I shall take care of it. You will summon me once we are on that world, and I shall be finally free, if almost powerless.”

“How do we hide you, then?” Isaac asked, double-checking the clock on the wall. Still stopped.

“My siblings have all but erased my name and image from all mythos and churches. I could walk down the most crowded street in all the eight kingdoms and no one would recognize me.”

The man nodded. He assumed the gods still had a way or two of checking in with the mortals, so it was better for them not to use her name if they could help it, but he did not know how much her physical appearance would stand out in a crowd.

Suddenly, he noticed he had begun to conspire with her without even realizing it. He instantly discarded his previous assumption; this woman wasn’t slow at all. Rather, she seemed to be extremely shrewd and intelligent.  

For an evil goddess, she also sounded oddly reliable. He couldn’t deny the possibility that she was subtly manipulating him; her being an immortal deity and clearly not a stranger to this kind of intrigue. Then again, he was basically at her mercy. There were a thousand ways she could be hiding information or telling half-truths, and he’d be none-the-wiser, simply because he just didn’t know enough about the world she was sending him t

Isaac thought on the goddess’ offer. It wasn’t bad per se, but the man soon realized he needed more. He was done letting people walk over him. Rolling over and accepting her words would be akin to simply accepting the same kind of life he had been living until now.   

“Hold on. I haven’t actually agreed to anything, you know?” he stopped the conversation.

A moment of silence passed.

“Huh? I...oh. Indeed.” The woman’s voice sounded genuinely heartbroken for a moment, as she tried to regain her wits.

She was desperate. She needed an ally, someone that could help her, more than anything else, or her people would die.

He could exploit that. Sure, manipulating the goddess was not the best thing to do, but he didn’t care. He had already made the decision to sell his soul for power; might as well stop lying to himself and pretending he cared about other people. And at any rate, he would save her people.

The end would be the same. No harm in demanding more stuff as a reward, no?

“I’m not saying I will not help you.” He began. “Clearly you have your reasons, and I’m not worried about the risk. But I need to know what is in there for me. Reincarnation alone does not seem like enough of a reward for what basically is a suicide mission.”

 The man realized one simple truth. He was not the one selling her soul to the devil. She was. She needed him, maybe not him in particular, but she needed someone to accept her deal, or otherwise, escaping from her imprisonment would not be possible. The terms of this deal were his to make.  

“I suppose that does make sense. What do you wish for?” she said as she breathed a small sigh of relief.

That was a good question. What did he want from all of this? What kind of man did he want to be in this new life?

He realized being her prophet was not a bad idea. It was certainly a good position, maybe not in the near future, but if they succeeded, he might as well be the Jesus Christ of that world. Certainly, a worthy endeavor. Then what would he need to make that happen?

“Well, power, for starters.” Isaac said, then clarified. “Both kinds. I know magic will be one of them, but I also want to have the political kind of power — influence, money, land, titles...whatever it is in your world that concedes any sort of value.”

The woman seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded. “That goes without saying. Think about it this way. This world is a giant game of chess. I have no doubt the other gods shall turn on each other as soon as I stop being a threat. The heroes they summon? Nothing but mere pawns. Either killed just after I am gone or in the upcoming war. You, on the other hand, would be my queen on the board. The most powerful piece. And my only one, for that matter. I will rightfully compensate you in power for that.”

“Okay...” Isaac nodded. “What else is supposed to go without saying, then?”

“Well, that would be honor and glory, of course. I do plan to conquer the world. I will march my armies into the heavens themselves, as I promised my people I would do. Once that is done, this entire planet and its people will be mine. And you will be at my side when that happens. You shall be hailed as THE hero. Not A hero, but THE hero of the demon race, and whoever joins us. Their admiration, their love as their savior, awaits you. The one who brought Tyrannia back to life. The one who risked it all to save them on their darkest hour. No demon shall grow up without hearing songs about your great deeds, about your trials and tribulations. Stories about the man who stood up against the dominion of the old gods in favor of the one true ruler will be heard throughout the entirety of my empire.”

“On that same note, I can also grant you immortality, should you desire. For you and for anyone you wish to give it to. This would have to wait until the gods are dead, but do not fear; I keep my promises.” She finally ended her little speech.

Isaac had to admit she might as well have already convinced him to work for her, but he wanted to push more, see how many concessions he could bargain for.

“That sounds like a good start.” The old man nodded. “Then the next obvious thing is to demand I get treated as an equal?”

He did not want to be under anyone. There was no bigger reason.

“Of... course?” the goddess seemed dumbfounded for a second. “Do gods if your world care about such things?”

“I’m...assuming so?” Isaac replied.

“Well, not me. I did not think that had to be stated, but yes, I want an ally, not a minion.”

“That makes thing easier.”

Isaac thought about what else to demand for his help. He had spent his entire life following orders; he did not know how wish for himself in the first place. So, what to ask for?

He thought about his newfound goal. To be a worthy prophet. And in that thought, he found his answer. He wanted to be at the top of her religion, and, if possible, of her empire.

“How much do you care about your empire and religion?”

“Little. They are means to an end.” Tyrannia waved a hand dismissively. “Let me skip to the conclusion; you can have them both. The institutions will still be mine, do not misunderstand; but I do not mind giving you the leadership of both. Of course, I will not let you mistreat my people and I reserve the right to veto your politics and decisions, but besides that? You can call yourself an emperor in my name if you so wish, make yourself an object of worship of my church. It is of no consequence to me. Quite frankly, you are just making my life easier if you do.”

Isaac blinked, surprised that she would give away both things so easily. “That’s it? You’re just gonna agree?”

“Indeed. As I have stated, they are means to an end. That end being the safety and happiness of my people. I do not care if they do not want me as an empress, or chose to believe in other gods. As long as you guarantee they will be taken care of and provided for, then I do not mind what kind of life your chose for them. A republic, a monarchy, an empire...do whatever you wish, hoard as much influence as you want. Same with my church. You can call yourself a deity as well, if you so desire. I just ask that you do not mistreat the demonkind, nor those who choose to fight alongside us. It is my duty to protect them, even from my own allies, if it comes to that.”

The old man simply nodded. He wasn’t planning on doing anything bad to her people. He understood one could not be at war with their own citizens if they wanted to keep themselves in power. Isaac did find extremely odd how she had practically just waved away any kind of leadership over her own institutions, but he was not about to complain.

“One thing I can also promise you is true, genuine bonds.” She continued, trying to make her deal sound more appealing, maybe thinking Isaac was still not convinced. “War is no doubt a cruel thing, but it can also be where life begins. Many a nation has risen from the ashes of a previous one, reborn and prosperous for generations. It is the same way with relationships. Only through the face of death does one forge bonds able to surpass it. One must first ignite a fire to feel the warmth, after all. Should you wish for death, I can guarantee it will not be on a lonely bed like this, but one surrounded by people who will worship your every step, that will weep your parting and will love you as their leader for eons to come.”

“That’s... yeah, that sounds good. Thank you. To be fair, I’m actually kind of struggling to think of more.” The man shrugged. He felt like he could be honest here and admit both to himself and to Tyrannia that he had never thought about a situation like this. No doubt someone with more preparation could think about a few more things to demand, but he was drawing a blank.

“Let us add another clause to our deal, then. You shall be able to ask for more benefits, and we will discuss the details later on. Would that be agreeable?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine.”

“Is that it then?” the goddess asked. “You are not asking much.”

Does leadership of her church and empire mean nothing to her? Either that, or she is so desperate for someone to help her than me being even slightly interested has destroyed her sense of preservation. If it is the latter...

“For now, yes. Since I literally have no idea of what kind of world you are sending me into, power is as much as I can demand.” He explained.

“If you wish for anything else, you may ask. I understand that this is a tall task I am asking you to do. Our enemies are many and our allies are practically nonexistent. But make it out alive, and I will grant your every wish. Do we have an agreement?”

If she had a hand, one that was not made of shadows, she would be extending it right now. One could say that this deal was akin to selling one’s soul to the devil; but who was the seller and who the buyer was unclear. For Isaac, it was Tyrannia who had given everything for vengeance. Her empire and her church were in his hands, after all. For Tyrannia, it was the man who had sold his spirit to her cause for what she deemed a really low price. In her eyes, Isaac had asked nothing but what was already a given, and to take away part of her work. But such was the mentality of a deity. Stuff like churches and nations meant little to her kind.  

“I will help you fight your war against the gods. That includes the war effort itself, killing the summoned heroes, and gathering both allies and followers for your religion. I will make sure you can kill every single one of your siblings. In exchange, I will get power, influence, honor, glory, worship, immortality and the de facto control over your church and nation, so as long I don’t mistreat your people. You get the right to veto my decisions if you do not find them fair, and I get the right to further demand concessions if we both find it agreeable. Is that right?”

“Indeed.”

“Then yes. We have a deal.”