"Ah, there you are."

I opened my eyes. Sort of. Where had that voice come from?

I rubbed my grainy sockets and peered around. It was strange, like the feeling of opening your eyes underwater. It was vaguely illuminated, and I could see streams of… mist or something, but it wasn't hot enough to be steam. Maybe some kind of room-temperature sauna? That seemed like a goofy idea, but I was perplexed by my sudden change of environment. It was almost claustrophobic, and I had a momentary pang of anxiety imagining getting stuck in whatever this was for too long. I took a few deep breaths and calmed myself as best I could.

Chill, dipshit. It’s just another one of these wildly shifting areas you’ve grown to know and love. What the fuck, though? Where the hell am I?

The only thing I was certain of at the moment was that I was standing. Though, whatever the floor or ground was made from was unclear as it was submerged in about two inches of water everywhere.

I sloshed my foot around and watched the ripples travel a short distance in the gray, murky pool. The water, despite being shallow, was a bit heavier than usual. It took more effort to slog through it—not much—but it was noticeable. Besides the mist and the babbling brook of gravy, or whatever, that was about all I could see. It didn't make sense. It was stupid.

But then I remembered being pushed off the ledge. It was the second time in a few hours that I'd plummeted to my assumed death.

"Ah, shit," I said.

"Such a bold choice of language," the voice said. It wasn't menacing—in fact, it had a sort of calming lilt that most people probably would have found pleasant. But not me—I was a born contrarian. The voice annoyed me.

"Where am I?" I demanded, looking for the voice's source and coming up blank. I couldn't see dick in this mess.

"You're here," the voice cooed, and that almost made me blow my top right there. I absolutely hated people who beat around the bush as though the answers I needed were some sort of puzzle. Nuh-uh. Not today—er—tonight.

"Okay, shit head," I exclaimed, feeling my anger boil over. "Stop screwing around. I've been beaten to absolute hell today, and I'm really not in the mood—"

"Such harshness," the voice said, though it still had the dreamy quality to it, apparently undisturbed by my outburst.

"Seriously," I said. "Not chill, dude. Where am I, who are you, and what is the point of this? Is this some new level of this godforsaken, saggy tit of a world?"

There was a soft chuckle, and suddenly, a shape appeared in the mist. A large shadow moved through the curtain of obfuscation, emerging from somewhere beyond my sight's capability. One thing immediately apparent was its size: it was massive. Like, brick-shitting big--as big as a house. Maybe larger. At first, I thought it was a huge medieval shield based on its shape, but then I saw there were three holes in it. It took a moment before it dawned on me: them weren't no normal holes.

Two large eyes and a mouth—or rather, the recessed crevices where they should be—lorded above me.

I leaped backward and put my arms up for defense right as the looming specter halted, leaving me feeling a bit silly. I gulped down the lump in my throat and stared up at a massive, black mask.

"What in the lily-livered fuck are you?!" I shouted.

Another soft chuckle echoed from the gigantic… creature? Face monster? The voice was not at all the sort of hellish apocalypse style I would expect to come from such a beast. It wasn't even loud. It was conversational volume and sounded like it was coming from right next to me.

That creeped me out. I kept trying to peep over my shoulder, half expecting the face to be the world's most gigantic ventriloquist dummy. Still, I could not find a physical source for the voice. So, I decided to take the... face at its value and crane my neck up to look at it.

"I am pleased to know I have made such a good first impression," the gigantic thing said, the mouth remaining open and unmoving. The actual detail itself was straightforward, without adornment. Just a run-of-the-mill variety, simple-as-hell, theatrical-looking mask. However, what it lacked in personality, it made up for in pure, pants-shitting terror.

"Good may be a bit of a stretch," I stated, too cautious about making any movements lest the thing decided I'd fit perfectly into its dinner plans.

"Pardon me," it said politely. "I am prone to bouts of flowery speech and hyperbole, so perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I made the impression I aspired for."

"Got it," I said. "You chose to show up all spooky starship style."

"Though I do not understand that reference, I will agree that it was a touch of artistic grandeur on my part. Forgive me."

I scoffed.

"I'm not sure I should forgive anything yet. You could decide to switch gears at any point and strike, Big Head. My head and your mouth might accidentally get acquainted if I start throwing you a bone."

The mask chuckled again.

"Ah, I so love the illustrative foulness of the young and obnoxious."

"Sister, you ain't seen nothing yet," I said, puffing my chest out. "I'm King Stupid."

"Clearly," the voice mused.

I pointed up at the thing and scowled.

"Hey, so… answer my question. You already know I'm annoying, so save yourself the trouble of me practicing super loud monkey noises. I'll do it. I have no shame whatsoever."

The mask didn't move at all, and I had to wonder if perhaps it was thinking.

"I see," it finally said after a moment. "Do you mind if I work backward in your inquiries? You have rattled a fair few in my direction, so it may take me but a moment to accurately—"

"Jesus!" I interrupted. "Yes, that's fine! Just do your thing so I don't have to hear you stuff more hundred-dollar words I don't understand into your already insufferable sentences."

"You are a curious one," the mask said. "You have a low Intelligence value, yet you wield a masterful command of metaphorical syntax—especially where insults are intended."

"Hey, Big Face," I said, hoping to move things along. "Wanna hear my impression of a car alarm?"

I didn't care about his point as long as he got to it.

"Marvelous," the mask said. "Such an interesting temperament. Impatient, rash, loud, and concealing fear and confusion behind bravado. Not the usual category of mind I interact with."

"Yeah? You getting a lot of personal visits here in Moist City?"

"I entertain the occasional guest," the mask said, sounding intrigued by my question. "Though, I will admit it has been some time since I conversed with a newcomer. However, that is beside the point. You had other questions, and I will answer them."

"Finally!" I exclaimed, slumping a little.

"You asked—in a much more colorful way—what it is I am."

"Yeah," I said. "What carnival ride did you fall off of, for one?"

Then, realizing that I would likely be prolonging my bizarre back-and-forth with this creature, I promptly shut it down.

"Eh, nevermind," I said. "I'll shut up. You make with the deets."

"Very well," the mask said, still hovering in the mist, all intimidating-like. "What I am, is a god."

By the way the sleepy-voiced creature announced it, I guess I was supposed to be impressed. But, while strange, it wasn't the weirdest conversation I'd had today. It was hard to be shocked by a statement like that when I'd literally seen rat people explode. So I just stayed quiet.

"I suppose if that is the only reaction I will get, I shall continue. The name I use here is Zeol."

I snorted. The pronunciation of the name sounded oddly like a type of vocal in a lot of heavy music.

"Is something amusing?" The mask asked.

"Nah, bro, you're good. It's just stuffy in here."

“Is there something about my name that you find off-putting or humorous?”

I cracked a grin.

“Zyuuuuuul,” I thundered, trying to do my best elongated death metal growl. I was actually moderately pleased with how it sounded. Back in the old world, my screaming attempts had sounded more like shrieks, but here, with the much deeper orcish register… It was pretty deece.

The mask paused but then continued just as though I hadn't interrupted.

"You are likely wondering why I have brought you into my plane?"

"Not really," I said. "Probably some bullshit, though. Are you going to try to kill me too?"

"No," the voice said. "Should I kill you? You are very irritating. I might be doing someone, somewhere a tremendous favor."

"Yeah," I said. "Namely me. Hurry up with the information, I've got a date with the bottom of a mountain."

"I see. Well, if you're not going to treat this like a true interaction, I suppose…"

There was a popping sound, and suddenly, I was back where I'd been, plummeting through the air toward a line of red-armored soldiers. A notification appeared in my vision, but quickly minimized--likely due to the forthcoming splat I was about to participate in. But, I did catch a glimpse of one thing:

You have been granted an Aegis!

Zeol's Falling Star

"Ah, fucking hell," I said, but my words were snared by the wind and carried away. I had the idea that I should curl into a ball, and my body acted on it. It didn't make much sense, but perhaps it was my primitive, near-death lizard brain trying to figure out a way of shielding myself—or hiding from the imminent splattering. I closed my eyes tight. Just as I did so, however, it happened.

I blasted into the soldier at the front of the line.