A grass hill lies in the middle of a park. On most days, this was a beautiful park where kids danced and sang, with parents chatting it up and people jogging, all the things one would see in a normal park.

Today though, this city would be seen as hell.

The city was bathed in red. Surrounded by countless monsters, and littered with countless corpses, one could not take a step without dipping their feet in something dubious.

In the middle of all of this was an old man. His ragged white hair was blocking his sight and now he could only use mana sense to locate the monsters.

His beard, once well groomed, looked ragged and in shambles. Tall and overbearing, most of his armor was in tatters, torn by the monsters after days of battle.

His homunculi, who had followed him through thick and thin had died at some point during this surprise attack as had his golem, with only the old man left fighting. Grant grit his teeth and swung his blade recklessly, yet the cuts through the air still held an innate elegance, hammered in by a millennium of combat.

He remembered how he and the young players he had been teaching, had left the dungeon through a portal only to be met with a surprise assault by the Gray guild alongside hordes of monsters, founded by his own student Gray.

Grant was sure he knew why Gray had done this. As long as Grant lived the system alongside the administrator of alchemy would recognize Grant alone as the sole avatar of alchemy and the Grand alchemist. Grant had lived for hundreds of years, and Gray likely couldn’t wait. For the young are impatient, and centuries too long for them. “Ungrateful brat!” muttered Grant. Grant had decided to stay behind and distract the enemies so the young players could get away. He had high hopes for them, especially Samuel who had fire in his eyes, and seemed to have the attention of the administrator of challengers and heroes. It'd be a waste for him to die because of this old man.

As he fended off his foes, one monster lunged forwards and plunged a weapon through Grant’s chest. Grant felt the blade(?) plunge in, though he could barely see now. Before he went though, he decided to leave one last gift for these bastards. His hand gripped the monster’s face, which seemed to be on the small side, and engraved an alchemy circle, which quickly sprouted a sprout, which swelled into a tree, which grew and ravenously started consuming all living beings in the nearby area.

Soon, the tree would open up into a portal into what remained of his divine realm, a place for future cultivators to take their chances with the unknown.

The only reason he hadn’t used it was because it was mutually assured destruction for everything in a nearby radius. Something meant to be used at his last moment. That time was now.

“I’ve done all I can kids, now it’s your turn.” Thought Grant as he faded into the great abyss.

Grant came to, as he looked around the void. Surrounded on all sides by white, Grant was confused. He was sure he had applied for Hades and with the actions he had undertaken in his long life, Grant believed he would at least get into Elysium. Getting into Elysium wasn't about being a good person, so much as an infamous person.

And Grant was infamous.

Was this a prank? It felt like something Odin would do to screw with him. He’d done it before. Before he could ponder further, his eyes latched onto something which was extremely familiar. Before him was a round table, simple in nature, and two chairs, following the table’s style. One seat was empty, seemingly waiting for Grant, and the other held a familiar silhouette. A vaguely humanoid shape, formed of minerals, crystals, even roots and vines, slowly changing shape and state of matter. The administrator of alchemy, an old god only limited by his own understanding of self. It seemed to be drinking tea with those malformed fingers, more similar to claws than fingers. It hopelessly poured the tea into the vestigial mouth, before giving up and indicating to Grant to sit. “Grant, come sit.” ordered the old god, as its voice vibrated, deep and rough as it always was in this form.

Grant got up and sat down before the old god. Despite the obvious difference in power, the two had always talked as equals. “Flamel” responded Grant as he sat. Flamel gave a curt nod, as curt as the current form could allow.

“I believe I’m supposed to be on my way to Hades, so I’d like to know why I’m here” As an avatar, Grant had often worked in Flamel’s name, resulting in much of his hundreds of years being paperwork. He knew Flamel well. Flamel could always come visit him later, no reason to do a reunion now. So he wanted something.

Flamel, not one to play games, said “You’re being transmigrated”

“What?” Came Grant's shocked and annoyed response. Regardless of the modern world’s infatuation with transmigration, Grant had known about it long ago as Flamel had mentioned it as a thing old god's did once in a while. When this occurred, the person in question was sent to another realm, or a parallel Earth, often to accomplish something. This sounded like more unnecessary work to Grant.

No thanks.

Flamel continued, clearly trying to convince him. “Consider this retirement Grant. You spent much of your life fighting difficult challengers as my avatar and doing my dirty work.

I also know you always wanted to start a family, but never got a chance. Well, I’m giving you this chance.” Flamel pushed on. “Your levels will be reset as will your body modifications, but all that you’ve learned will remain.” Grant knew immediately that what Flamel had mentioned was essentially a cheat.

For anyone else, such knowledge would already be a boon, but for the avatar of alchemy, who had not only lived hundreds of years accumulating knowledge from both the system and from the world, but also having had access to the library of the administrators, what once took Grant years would now take him mere months.

"Oh my god you're serious"

"As serious as I have been with Perenelle after centuries." There were no eyes, but the intensity backed his statement.

Realizing there’s no point in arguing, as the administrator has clearly made up his mind, Grant decides to probe.

“So, I’ll be sent to a parallel world?” Asked Grant. “Yes, you’ll be sent to a parallel world where magic maintains its place in mainstream society. Nothing like our world where magic now hides from the common folk” Flamel knew what Grant was doing and played along. The smoother the transition, the better.

“And my items?” This was important as even keeping one of his many weapons or pieces of gear would be a great benefit. It would be a shame to lose his collection. Bags of blood, wasted on fools?

“You’ll get to keep all the ones mythical and above in terms of value, weapons and materials alike.”

‘Ah, well, what’s retirement without leisurely hunting’ thought Grant. One last question persisted in Grant’s mind, but before he could ask it, Flamel waved his paw. “Well time to go Grant. When you eventually come back here, be sure to tell me about your second life.”

“Wait what about my new-” before he could finish that sentence he disappeared with a pop. Flamel sat alone, sad he would lose his good friend, who had become a bit of a doting grandfather to all his apprentices, but still had that mad flare of creativity. It was a shame, as those treant wyvern ant hybrids had been quite the species.

He sat there for a second before turning to face a little girl. “Your request has been fulfilled, little god” The little god viewed this quietly. “And you’re sure he can do it?” There was hesitation in her soft and clear voice, “He doesn’t really need to do much in the first place” Flamel responded. He was watching his arm carbonize as it slowly changed into diamonds.

“The system will be piggybacking on him, and as long as he chooses to return to his original strength, the system will get strong enough to fulfill your need. Honestly speaking, the second he arrives at your Earth, it should be ready to use.” This seemed to assure the girl, and she nodded, before disappearing.

"He'll probably do something extremely stupid." muttered Flamel, conflicted as he recalled all the trouble Grant caused.

Flamel, got up and collapsed into himself, scrunching up, until the void became empty once more.