The old woman’s voice rang out in the darkness, stipped in the mirth of old age. It was fleshy and wet, as she had no teeth, bringing a chill to those who heard it. She also spoke slowly, pausing every once in a while to breathe.

Through the darkness, Jerry could tell she had a few tattoos on her arms, but he couldn’t make them out.

“Welcome to the land of the dead,” she said, smiling.

“The pleasure’s all ours, Granny,” replied Jerry. “Though I have to say, this place doesn’t seem that bad.”

A toothless grin met his comment.

“Your eyes are closed still, young necromancer”—she took some time to wet her lips—“but to open them, you shall be tested.”

“Tested?”

“Yes… No unworthy feet”—another pause, as this last word had been emphasized—“shall tread the home of our people. The soul of your leader will be tested. Who is it?”

“Jerry,” Marcus replied quickly. Laura and Boney quickly agreed, while Axehand also grunted in affirmation. They hadn’t agreed on anything of the sort beforehand, but Jerry’s strong soul definitely played a role, since Granny mentioned testing it.

“I don’t—”

“Let me in, young one,” said Granny, and Jerry felt a foreign soul approach his. It felt oddly familiar, like a long-lost sibling. It was small and weak like a candlelight’s final flickers before extinguishing, but at the same time, hosting depths so mysterious and vibrant that Jerry was awed.

The foreign soul probed at his, seeking to enter. It couldn’t force its way in—weak as the body that held it—but Jerry obediently opened the gates of his mind wide and surrendered himself.

There was no hesitation; such a small soul had bared itself before his, and extinguishing it forever would have taken only a thought. If Granny had dared trust him with so much, how could Jerry not do the same? After all, she felt like a pretty good person!

A chuckle came from Granny’s side at Jerry’s blind trust; and in the next moment, his world fell apart.

***

Jerry stood on a plain, a carpet of bright grass flowing with the wind all around. The breeze was pleasant, caressing his skin with a gentle touch, and the crisp creek that snaked through the plain was music to the ears.

A village was visible in the short distance, with tufts of gray smoke wafting above straw and wooden houses; even the soft sound of singing voices could be heard drafting over from a slowly rotating watermill beside the creek. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Jerry felt like lying down and enjoying it—which was exactly what he did.

He couldn’t really remember why he was here, but it was a nice place, so everything should be fine. He lay on the cool grass and placed his hands behind his head, letting the soft blades tickle his back as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the simple fact that he was alive.

Unfortunately, the serenity was short-lived.

A tremendous roar shook the earth. Jerry’s eyes snapped open.

On the peak of a faraway mountain stood a dark-cloaked form, wielding darkness in both hands. Reality was jagged around its form, like broken glass, making the eyes ache by simply watching. The village residents had exited their houses, pointing at the form and shouting in fear, but there was nothing they could do.

A second roar came. The earth shook grandly, fissures cracking the grass as pieces of land rose and fell. The creek spilled into a dark void, letting fish jump helplessly in its former bank, and the watermill groaned as it collapsed, burying a screaming woman underneath it.

Jerry barely kept his balance as the earth below him titled, sliding stones and dirt into the dark void below everything; an insatiable, impenetrable pit. He glanced up in worry; what could he do? Nothing. He was simply a normal man, maybe able to wield a hoe better than most, but definitely not able to stand up to a godlike being.

A shrill sound came from high above, like nails scratching glass. Jerry looked up and his jaw threatened to fall. Any hope of resistance instantly fled his mind, replaced only by despair and hopelessness. In the face of such forces, he was nothing but a speck of dust, a being completely and utterly helpless.

The gray clouds in the air above had coalesced into hard blades, tearing through the heavens in wide swipes as if hating them. The sky was grated like cheese, strips of blue tumbling to the ground to reveal the endless darkness above.

The earth was still shaking, breaking into small islands as more and more of it disappeared into the bottomless pit of darkness below, and even the sky’s strips fell prey to it, sinking into the darkness with sizzling sounds.

One strip even landed beside Jerry, and it smelled of flowers before sliding into the void.

The earth was crumbling under Jerry’s feet and the sky was torn apart, crying out in pain with such ferocity that Jerry’s ears bled, and all sounds vanished. A moment later, they reappeared.

The world was ruined.

Soon, not much was left. There was darkness above and below, even in the horizon, and the only things remaining were Jerry and half the village. Jerry grabbed his head with both hands as he fell to his knees; such catastrophe was more than he could bear, and the sheer scale of these events challenged his understanding of the world so deeply that it hurt, his sense of identity stripped away just as the sky had.

It was a uniquely torturous feeling, one he almost lost himself in, but something drew his gaze above again; a ripping sound loud enough to fill the world, strong enough to numb the mind.

The darkness beyond the sky was slit down the middle and opened into two, revealing a set of dark jaws with fangs larger than the tallest mountain and deadlier than the sharpest sword. A head loomed behind them, too large for Jerry to comprehend, and it was covered in scales around a pair of hungry, yellow eyes.

The dark-cloaked form from before was now hovering in mid-air where the mountain peak used to be, laughing hysterically as the black dragon bit down on the sad remains of the world and dragged them to inevitable doom.

Only, suddenly, something changed.

A figure of light blinked into existence behind and above Jerry, and it shone with such radiance that the dragon halted and the dark-cloaked figure screamed.

“That is enough.”

Jerry’s ears bled from pure power. His mind shook, his legs gave way, and his soul threatened to turn into jelly.

The new arrival’s voice rang with a God’s finality, the sound alone grabbing reality and forcing it back into shape. Mountains rose out of the darkness, new rivers carved their way through the land, and blue vastness swept in from all corners of the horizon as if escaping a broken dam, running over the gargantuan dragon’s mouth and forcing it to growl in retreat.

The earth and sky solidified. Only the dark-cloaked figure remained, and its form oozed such menacing hatred that Jerry wanted to fall on the ground and become grass himself.

“How dare you?” it cried out in the voice of frozen mountains. “HOW DARE YOU?”

Reality rippled. It held, this time, but entire mountains were torn out of the earth, quaking this entire world, and rivers fell towards the sky. A sea and a mountain range hovered in the sky, and they all pointed at the bright figure, who only snorted and replied, “Why wouldn’t I dare?”

The mountains screamed as they fell, tearing the wind apart in their wake, and the sea seemed to hide all sorts of nightmares as it descended, but the bright figure was unconcerned.

Raising a hand, it plucked the sun out of the sky and brought it before the mountains and seas, which all dove inside it and disappeared without a trace. The sun shot back to its original position, and Jerry could only stare in askance at these powers that defied not just belief, but also imagination.

The dark-cloaked figure was trembling in rage. Its hood fell back, revealing the face of a malformed and rotting zombie, and it released one more shriek as the village’s entire population rose into the air, flailing helplessly and crying out in terror. Unfortunately, before such a being, they were beyond weak.

Their bodies moved to form the shape of an arrow, tip pointed at the bright figure.

“Burn that, if you dare!” screamed the zombie as the arrow flew at impossible speed, crossing the sky in an instant. The villagers comprising it screamed.

The bright figure snorted again. The light receded from its body to form a miniature sun of its own, revealing a blonde woman with blue eyes that seemed to radiate holiness. Reality itself bowed around her in worship, and Jerry felt his knees grow weak as his soul was filled with the desire to simply watch her a bit longer, for the mere sight of this woman was superior to every other aspect of life combined.

“Why wouldn’t I dare?” she repeated. With a flick of her fingers, the miniature sun shot out and enveloped the arrow, disintegrating it instantly. “Lives come and go, but a blight like you must be eradicated.”

The miniature sun went on. It crossed the sky and reached the horizon where the dark-cloaked figure stood, forcing itself around the zombie and sizzling it out of existence. The zombie screamed and shouted, roared and cursed, but its fate was sealed.

Amidst blinding light, it disappeared, and so did the miniature sun, revealing only a bright sky. The torn-out mountains regrew from the ground, the rivers pored back out of the wet soil, and even the broken watermill was repaired, turning peacefully once again. The only remnant of this divine battle was the empty village, as, apparently, not even this woman could restore taken lives.

She turned to Jerry, who simply stood there, forgotten by even himself.

“You endured well,” said the holy woman, and her smile was meaningful enough to make his life devoid of meaning. “Follow me, Jerry, and I will make you a God. Everything I did, you will accomplish, and darkness will be purged as the world turns to light. You will be immortal.”

Jerry stood still, not even blinking.

“Well?” said the woman, frowning slightly, and the opportunity threatened to disappear. “Why are you hesitating?”

Jerry’s heart was trembling. He felt as if dreaming.

A God… he thought. Me, a God?

The longer the woman stood there, the more his mind returned, allowing him to think clearly.

To rule the world, to wield might unsurpassable, to make evil bow under my feet… To vaporize mountains and seas as if they were nothing, to have such power that people are sacrificed like ants to purge the darkness…

The woman’s frown deepened. “There are many people who would sacrifice everything for this opportunity if you don’t want it. Just speak the word.”

Jerry gulped. His mind raced, but then it lightened, and he exhaled the heavy air as he realized the truth.

He could do without Godhood. Maybe the woman could have saved those people, maybe she couldn’t, but Jerry didn’t need difficult questions. All he wanted was to lie on the soft grass, smell the wet soil, and have a light heart. He wanted a simple, happy life, to have friends, and to enjoy what the world had to offer. Immortality…he did not need it.

He would help when needed, but…if other people wanted to become Gods, let them. Jerry was content just being himself.

“You know what?” he said, then smiled. “I think I’ll pass.”

The woman’s eyes widened in rage, but before she could respond, the world cracked before Jerry’s eyes, and everything disappeared. He stood in a dark hut, surrounded by friends and an amused soul that touched his.

“Those were some grand images, Granny,” he said, opening his eyes.

“Do you hate me?” she asked with a fleshy chuckle, more curious than worried. “You have seen yourself. You are soft”—a pause; a deep, trembling breath—“but the world is harsh.”

“I thank you.” Jerry smiled. “The harsher the world, the softer my chair.”

Granny stood in silence, her pitch-black eyes looking over Jerry.

“Nothing is simple…but they could be.” Another pause, this one longer than the others. Jerry felt her soul shudder; clearly, she had been spent. “I pray that your heart remains pure, young one.”

“Sure thing. See you, Granny.”

She chuckled as Jerry turned to leave, and the others, after pausing for a moment, followed.

“Jerry?”

“Master…”

Grunt.

Jerry chuckled, ignoring them, for now.

A hanging fur served as the door to Granny’s hut, and Jerry pulled it open to step back into the twilight swamp. Horace was waiting before the hut, a large crowd behind him; and the moment he saw Jerry, he smiled widely.

“You have passed Granny’s test… That’s wonderful! Let us, the death spirits of the swamp, accept you as our guests!”