I had fallen in love with the full immersion games of my young adulthood during my time with the Army. Something about living in a fantasy world and being able to feel, taste, and fight like a hero of the old epics always felt more visceral than even real life firefights. Or maybe it was just simpler, with fewer shades of grey and less meaningful, and tragic, deaths.

The time compression the games offered, using the processing power of modern computers to make a precious hour or two of free time into a dozen or so in-game, had also proven to be very attractive on into parenthood and the civilian world of college then business life.

"Before we get into all of that," I started. "The girl I tried to save, did she make it?"

The goddess frowned. "Like I said, everything I know about you comes from this document right here. Normally I'd have seen your final moments and even felt them right along with you if I wanted to, but as far as I can tell, yes, it says right here: "Jeremiah Knight, through his bravery and sacrifice, ended a life of bloody war and invention in a moment of selflessness, saving a young high school student who was being held at gunpoint."

I got some relief hearing that and I wasn't too hung up on the bloody war part--at least it also mentioned the other things I'd done too. But my heart still longed for my daughters and wife.

"There's no way I can go back?" I asked. "I have a family."

"I'm sorry," the goddess shook her head as I'd suspected she might. "I'm trying to make the best of this for you. I don't know the rules for resurrection for your world, but even if you could be brought back, I can't send you there. As I said: I can't even find your world, and believe me, after I realized that I searched."

I paused. I appeared to be stuck with only options that I didn't really want to commit to.

"If I choose one of your worlds to live in, will I keep my memories?" I asked.

"You will," the goddess said. "It's a completely unique situation for a soul that is technically still owed a life in one of my domains to have accumulated any memories to be born with at all, but because of that there's technically no rules against it."

"And will I be an adult, or am I starting from scratch?" I asked.

"That'll be your choice. I'll be honest, I've only heard the term RPG by reading through your biography, but its rules sound just like how one of my worlds works," she admitted.

"So it's just a fantasy world with magic, dwarves, and elves?" I asked.

"Yes and no. Some of those translations are approximations to what you'll see," she said. "There's a leveling system, is what I believe you'd call it, with a World Spirit that controls the progressions and skills of the inhabitants and that helps them track their lives," she explained. "I just figured it was more tidy if everyone had bare numbers and statistics to gauge their progress, rather than something as relative as relying on intuition to stack oneself up against others."

I paused. This woman, underneath her neat and orderly attire, for just a moment I'd seen a glint of creativity there, but obviously it was still filtered through the lense of order that she seemed to project.

"So it's a fair world?" I asked.

"It's a raw world. Wild and mostly unclaimed. Fairness is a mortal concept. Even myself, as you see me, is only a rendition of a natural law made physical and processed through your perceptions," she explained. "Nature and myself, we just are. Even I must design my worlds around laws and deep magics that aren't always fair. But, it's a world that can give you a fair shot."

"And I imagine by keeping my memories I'm already getting an advantage," I admitted. "So maybe I shouldn't be too worried about fairness."

"So you've decided to try it out?" she asked.

"If there's really no way for me to see my wife and children until you figure all this out? Take me there," I shrugged. "But if I do make it to one of your afterlives, I don't want my case just thrown out. I'd rather sit here and stare at you for eternity than never get the chance to see my family again."

"I don't throw out cases, Jeremiah," she said. "I'm not that sort of natural concept."

I sighed in acceptance and relief. "I didn't think so."

"So do I need to roll my stats, or?" I asked.

The goddess smiled. "I wasn't going to make you, but."

She waved her hand and below them appeared a pair of red dice.

"No?" I asked with a raised eyebrow; a bit of humor rose up in my chest for the first time since realizing I was dead.

"Just know that this is your choice Jeremiah," she said. "After you're landed I can't show you any more favoritism. I'm only doing this on the off chance that this mix up is my fault, as an apology of sorts."

"Okay," I said and reached out to grab the d20s. "I appreciate your honesty."

I wrapped my right hand and tightened my knuckles around the dice that would decide my future.

I hadn't always been a decisive man. Years of soldiering and then running an Engineering firm had beat that into me. Part of me wondered what this otherworldly entity was thinking as she gazed at me holding a pair of plastic dice that I suspected were much more than just that, but the part of me that knew my future was once again my own responsibility didn't feel the need to ask and possibly provide time for this strange god to change her mind.

I felt the d20s press against my skin. "I know it's not exactly what I want, but thanks for this. It's better than looking at the walls."

At least it was some kind of action.

And then I rolled.