Consciousness came back slowly. My mind felt muddled, like a hangover without the pain. I drifted in and out of awareness, secure in the belief that I had just experienced a nightmare and another five minutes of rest would make it all better. I’m not sure how long I drifted along in that fugue state between asleep and awake, eyes shut, comfortable and warm, before I felt the need to move.

I sat up and was halfway through a full arms-out-wide stretch before my brain fully engaged and I realized I wasn’t at Granny’s. The human body is a magnificent machine. It’s programmed with the result of many thousands of years of evolutionary measures designed to keep us safe and alive. When confronted with an unknown or potentially dangerous situation the endocrine system bypasses the conscious mind and floods the body with a panoply of chemical compounds; of which the most commonly known is adrenaline. It’s an impressive display of evolutionary adaptation to stressful situations. My pulse rate spiked, I began to breathe more quickly, my muscles surged with readily available energy, and my hands began to shake slightly as I lunged off the bed.

Taking stock of the situation it was apparent that I was in a different room that looked like it could have been hewn out of a mountain. Diffuse illumination was provided by a source that I couldn’t make out and cast a dim light on a circle around twenty or so feet, centered on me. Slender marble columns, so tall that I couldn’t see where they met the ceiling, were placed in a ring around the slab on a raised dais I’d originally mistaken for my bed. I wasn’t naked, at least. I had on my jeans and the same t-shirt I’d been wearing along with my shoes. As I took a deep breath of air I could feel a crackling around my nose and a quick wipe with my hand confirmed that it was dried blood.

“Welcome. It is good that you have awoken.” The voice was feminine and warm, but I couldn’t see a speaker.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“You are in a place that could be most easily called Limbo. And we go by many names. Some have called us Formless. Some call us the Unknown. Most, however, simply call us Aspects or Gods.” came the reply.

I’d always felt like a bit of a black sheep in my family. While they were loving, caring, and loyal people my family also tended to be a bit narrow in their world view. People were meant to work hard, go to church, and not indulge in any of those pesky worldly vices like drugs, pre-marital sex, or alcohol. I, on the other hand, trudged my way through church services when I visited the farm because it made my family happy when I attended and not because I believed. So, I suppose that it wasn’t completely unwarranted when the sheer hysteria of the situation caused me to burst into a sort of paradoxical laughter.

“Gods? Guess being an atheist wasn’t the right choice.” I slumped down to the ground and rested my back against the slab. The dried blood on my face matched up against my last memories. I knew that Limbo was part of the underworld. Maybe I had died? Limbo wasn’t a bad place, from what I could remember. To the best of my recollection it was sort of a transitionary plane between the Earth, Heaven, and Hell.

“If this is Limbo, and you are Gods…What happens next? Do I get judged and sent on to my reward?” I asked.

“You are a Jumpspark. The choice is yours.” came the reply.

“Jumpspark?”

“A Jumpspark is a soul that has managed to transcend normal mortal boundaries. You managed to do so when you saved your Grandmother. Tapping into the power that you used to save her is almost impossible for the inhabitants of your world. Perhaps only one in ten million manage to brush against the barest facet of it and those that do nurture it over years. You, however, turned yourself into a full conduit despite having no prior contact with the spark. The experience caused every blood vessel in your brain to burst at once but in doing so, you became a Jumpspark. Only those who become Jumpsparks are offered the choice.”

“Can we talk about this face to face, maybe? No offense but talking to voices in the dark is a bit...uh…wow”, my voice trailed off as the light expanded.

Just past the area originally illuminated were a ring of platforms, each occupied by a throne. The thrones looked like they had been carved in place out of solid rock and was occupied by some of the most beautifully terrifying beings I had ever encountered. I counted eleven in total as I looked around myself. There was a blonde woman in full plate armor on one, another was occupied by a man wearing crudely stitched leather clothing with the fur still on it who looked like he had bathed in blood. A pair sitting in thrones next to each other each, one male and one female, wore intricately carved masks that looked like ivory or bone. Yet another grinned at me with rotting blackened teeth and insane eyes.

“If I am a Jumpspark, and the choice is mine, then I choose to go home, back to earth.” I said.

“That is the only path denied to a Jumpspark. Once your vessel is dead you cannot go back to your original reality. Of all the potential worlds and possible fates available to you that is the one that you cannot choose.”, replied the woman in plate mail.

The man in bloody leather spoke. “You are being offered the choice to be reborn into another reality, another world. There are countless realities; the one from which you originate is the only one forbidden to you.”

“Another reality? Can you please explain that a little further?” I asked, confused. I couldn’t deny the fact that I wasn’t home any longer and this entire setup was a little too far gone for a prank, but I was still confused overall. Worlds I could somewhat understand as I’d always considered thinking that we were alone in the universe was hubris, but multiple realities were a bit beyond my ken.

“Picture a grain of sand”, said the male in the mask, “as your reality. That grain of sand encompasses every galaxy, every solar system, every planet, and every sentient being. Now imagine that your grain of sand is laying on a beach that is limitless. Other grains of sand are packed in next to it, all around, above, below, to the left, to the right. Each one of those is a different reality. Like sand, each different and distinct composition. Some, like your base reality, are virtually devoid of the divine spark. When a soul from such realities manages to channel the spark, we offer them a set of boons.”

“And the boons are that I can’t go back home?” I asked.

A woman behind me, one I realized was clad in sheer fabric with looks that would have sparked a war on Earth, spoke, “Nay little one. They are a chance to be reborn in a world that’s uniquely suited to receive you. A chance to live in a world that is the culmination of your dreams and is suited specifically to you, with abilities that you have selected.”

The woman in the mask spoke, her voice recognizable as the first one I had heard, “As a Jumpspark you can choose a boon from any of the two of us, one major, one minor. You will then be placed in a world of your choosing. From there you are free to live as you see fit. Earth, your planet, produces a Jumpspark every hundred years or so. You are the third in less than a century, which is quite remarkable.”

“Who were the others?”

“They are people that were able to awaken the Spark within themselves. People who reached beyond what others believed was possible and transcended. On your world they were perhaps people of great import or, like yourself, people who had not yet had the chance to prove themselves people of great import. I can, however, tell you that two of them have settled on the same reality. I can also tell you that not all of them have survived. A few lived out their lives before allowing themselves to fade away into the final embrace of death. There was another who adopted the title “The Great” and managed to get killed within a week.”, she answered.

Another man, clad in what looked like seaweed, spoke, “Your boons, young man. You must choose your boons from amongst us. One major and one minor.”

I sighed before asking, “To choose a boon do I just ask for a specific thing? Or are each of you able to deliver a specific boon?”

This time I was answered by a man wearing what looked like a leather apron and some rough spun clothing, “You can choose a deity for each boon. If you choose a major boon, you will receive one aspect for each domain, or portfolio, controlled by the deity. With a lesser, you can choose one aspect of a single domain controlled by a deity.”

“So, taking a major and a minor from a single deity is pointless…Got it.” I replied as he nodded in agreement. “So what domains do each of you control?”

Each of them stood in turn, the man with the insane eyes and black teeth speaking first, “I am Haine. Hatred, Fear, Murder, and Undead.”

The next figure stood. I couldn’t determine the gender of the figure, as it seemed to be shrouded in shadows, even within the light, “Pete. Lies, Deception, and Thieves. Before you ask, because they all do, Pete isn’t a real name. I wouldn’t be much of a God of Deception and Lies if I told you my real name, now would I?”

The woman in the mask looked at Pete and shook her head slightly before saying, “Noctia, Goddess over Death, Oaths, and Balance.”

And so, it went.

“Solis, God of Life, Oaths, and Balance, and brother to Noctia.”

“I am Tabiea, the Goddess of Nature, Animals, and Agriculture.”

“Kelias, Goddess of Loyalty, Law, Honor, and Justice.”

“Eolia, my domains are Magic, Mystery, and Knowledge.”

“Krieg. War. Blood. Battle.”

“Zeoni. I hold the portfolios of Beauty, Music, Inspiration and Passion.”

“Fuar, I hold domain over Seas, Ocean, Lakes, and Rivers.”

“Togail, and I control the domains of Construction, Crafts, and Commerce.”

I looked at each as they introduced themselves, and after Togail was finished I asked, “Ok, so those are your domains, but what effect do they have on the boons? I get some of them, like Magic and Nature but what effect do they actually have?”

Eolia, who was clad in a dress made from what looked like opaque condensed energy, responded, “The nature of each boon depends on the nature of the world you select. If you select a purely technological world in which to be reborn then my own domains would be tailored to fit…should you select them. If you choose a world dominated by the desert, then the boons offered by Fuar would likewise change. There are an endless number of worlds which gives us an endless permutation of possible ways the boons may manifest.”

I could feel a headache coming on. I had to choose my boons blindly, then I had to choose a world on which to live my life. Only the world would influence the nature of the boons. I knew what I was going to choose as a major boon, but the minor boon was still up in the air. I decided to chance a few more questions. So far, the “gods” had been relatively forthcoming with answers, even if most of them didn’t make much sense so far.

“Will I be in immediate danger when I transfer to a new world? Or will there be an acclimation period before I’m sent off to toss a ring into a volcano?” I asked.

Haine answered this time, “Do you want immediate danger? That can be arranged. A dozen helpless victims for you to visit chaos upon? That would be a wonderful way to announce your presence to your new home world. Bathed in blood and baptized in violence. Oh yes, yes it would.”

“Uh, no thanks. I’d prefer not to end up like the guy that got killed within a week. If I’m going to live in a world and be forced to be some sort of hero I’d prefer to be able to get my feet under me first. If you’re going to throw me into a fight straight off, then it’s going to affect my choice of boons.” I said.

“Hero? If being a hero is something that you think of as a reward, then there are countless troubled lands that could use your courage. If you’d prefer to live in peace as a hermit or a fisherman, then that can likewise be arranged. Your life is your own. If it helps, think of this process as a sort of reincarnation. You can go back at any age, with or without your memories, and you can be inserted into the world as close or as far from conflict as you would like. However, depending upon the world the conflict may find you regardless. While some of the worlds you can choose are paradise others are a hellish landscape torn by conflict. Choose your boons, and then choose your new home to suit them, or trust one of us to choose it for you.” Said the masculine figure in the mask, Solis.

Choose my boons, then choose my world. It sounded so simple on the surface. The choice came down to trust. Trust that this was actually real. Trust that I wouldn’t immediately get killed or drafted into some sort of Jumpspark army. Trust that I wouldn’t be reincarnated as an infant with no memories of the family I had left behind. I could choose my boons and then pick blindly from the worlds. Or…I could choose my boons and trust these beings at their word and let them choose the one that would be right for me.