The last thing I remembered was the screech of tires and a blinding flash of light. When consciousness returned, I found myself lying on a bed of impossibly soft clouds, as though the very ground was woven from dreams. Above me, the sky was a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, each hue bleeding into the next as if reality itself was painted by a whimsical hand.

Beside me, Eliza stirred, her eyes fluttering open to take in the same surreal scene.

“Where… where are we?” she mumbled, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear. I turned to look at her—Eliza, the girl I had tried to save—alive and breathing, yet just as bewildered as I was. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly drowned by the gnawing question: where in the world were we?

Moments later, a strange procession caught our attention. A boy, no older than us, was being carried toward us on an ornate platform, held aloft by four muscular figures dressed in simple, loincloth-like garments. It was like something out of an ancient Egyptian fresco, the kind you see in history books—his platform adorned with golden accents and draped in silken cloth, swaying gently with each step of his bearers. The boy himself lounged casually, one hand resting on the armrest, the other idly twirling a scepter-like staff. His expression was one of utter boredom, as if this grand, almost regal display was just another tedious chore in his day.

“Marchos! Why do I have two humans here?” the boy exclaimed abruptly, his tone betraying genuine surprise at our unexpected arrival. “I specifically told you to find only one, didn’t I?” He continued, his voice tinged with irritation, though it wasn’t clear who he was addressing.

Eliza and I exchanged confused glances, our bewilderment growing with every passing second. Before we could fully grasp the situation, a man in a crisp driver's uniform materialized beside the boy. He dropped to one knee, his posture one of deep contrition. “I apologize, my lord. It appears a boy somehow jumped into the process and was brought along with the girl.”

The man’s voice carried a note of urgency, his eyes downcast in a mix of embarrassment and regret. As he spoke, the boy's frown deepened, his gaze shifting between us and his kneeling attendant. The surreal nature of our predicament was becoming increasingly apparent, but answers remained frustratingly out of reach.

The boy before us had the unmistakable air of a pampered aristocrat, draped in opulent robes and lounging on a golden platform as though he was the very embodiment of indulgence. His bored expression and the way he casually waved his scepter made it clear he was accustomed to having his every whim met without question.

Eliza, her irritation palpable, decided to speak up despite the tense atmosphere. “May I ask where we are?” Her voice, though steady, carried an edge of frustration.

The boy’s gaze shifted to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I have not permitted you to speak yet,” he replied, his tone heavy with authority and condescension. It was as if his status alone was enough to silence any interruption, and he expected compliance without hesitation.

Eliza and I stood there, the weight of the boy's words hanging in the air, as we tried to make sense of our bizarre situation and the seemingly arrogant figure before us.

“I’m so sorry if we appear disrespectful,” I said, my voice soft and steady as I tried to ease the tension. “We’re just confused about where we are and who you all are.”

The boy’s expression shifted slightly, momentarily taken aback by my attempt at diplomacy. Then, with a hint of smug satisfaction, he declared, “I am Yozak, the god of the world you are living in.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with a sense of finality that left us both stunned. The reality of our situation began to settle in, but the sheer audacity of his statement made it difficult to fully grasp what this revelation meant for us. A god? The very idea was overwhelming, yet the conviction in his voice made it hard to dismiss. Eliza and I exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the absurdity of our predicament, even as the weight of Yozak's words pressed down on us.

Yozak, still reclining on his gilded platform, began to explain the situation. “I commanded Marchos,” he said, nodding towards the man in the truck driver uniform, “to find a capable human to serve as a Divine Commander—someone who could build an army to defend against an impending attack from another world. After a thorough search, we determined that Eliza was the ideal candidate.”

As he spoke, his tone was calm, almost as if he was discussing something as mundane as picking out a new pair of shoes. But then, his explanation took a turn for the bizarre. “Now, our method of selection… it’s a bit unconventional. We transport candidates by, well, hitting them with a truck.” He said this so casually that it took me a moment to fully grasp what he had just revealed.

Wait—what? Their divine selection process involved vehicular impact? That’s one way to get a job offer, I suppose, though it seemed more like the setup for a dark comedy than a serious divine plan.

“But,” Yozak continued, now sounding slightly annoyed, “just as we were about to carry out the process, you,” he pointed directly at me, “decided to intervene. You jumped in to protect her, and, well… you got yourself brought along for the ride.”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of confusion and disbelief. So, by trying to save Eliza from a freak truck accident, I’d somehow landed us both in the middle of some divine selection process. Of all the ways I’d imagined our day going, this definitely wasn’t on the list.

Eliza, clearly at the end of her patience, cut in with a voice full of frustration. “How dare you assume that all of this is okay for us! We’re just college students who want to live a normal life. I don’t care if you’re the one who created us, but we live our own lives—”

Yozak didn’t even flinch at her outburst. He waited for a beat, then responded with an almost unnerving calmness, “You may continue as you please if that’s what you’d like. However, I won’t be repeating the selection process. If you refuse, I’ll simply allow Zypherus, the god of another world, to destroy your world and everyone you love.”

His words were delivered with such cold frankness that it sent a chill down my spine. The casual way he spoke of destruction and loss, as if it were merely an inconvenience, made it clear that this was no bluff. Eliza and I were no longer in control of our lives—our choices now held the weight of entire worlds.

Yozak continued, his voice dripping with indifference. “Unlike other gods, I am the laziest of them all. I’m not one to bother doing a lot of things just to save a world I can easily recreate later,” he added with a shrug, as if the fate of our entire existence was little more than a minor inconvenience to him.

He leaned back on his platform, his gaze sharpening as he looked at us. “I’m giving you a chance to defend your world. No one else can save it—not even with your cheap, mass-produced weapons. Only you.”

The weight of his words sank in, leaving a heavy silence between us. This wasn’t just some idle threat or a cruel joke; Yozak was giving us an ultimatum, and the responsibility he was placing on our shoulders felt almost unbearable.

“How can we do that?” I blurted out, the genuine desire to save our world pushing the words from my mouth before I could fully process them.

I noticed a smirk tugging at the corner of Yozak’s lips, as if he already knew we were on the verge of accepting his deal.

“All gods possess immense energy, which allows us to create worlds and shape reality itself. We call this energy ‘Soul Energy,’” Yozak began, his tone taking on a more instructive quality. “This energy grows over time and is typically shared among the gods’ creations when they bring them into existence. But me? I chose not to share my energy with your world. I don’t want anyone to surpass my power.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. “Instead, I’ve been dumping that energy into another world I created, a world populated only by lesser intellectual beings. I’ll allow both of you to harvest that energy from this other world to build your armies.”

My face must have shown clear confusion as Yozak explained, while Eliza seemed to grasp everything effortlessly. She stood there, focused and seemingly in sync with the god’s words, while I struggled to keep up.

Yozak noticed my bewilderment and sighed. “And that’s the problem. You weren’t supposed to be here, as you possess lesser abilities than Eliza. I can see you’re confused, but I do admire your spirit to save the world.”

He pointed at my head, and suddenly, a series of visuals appeared above it—snapshots of my past, videos of moments I’d lived, everything flashing before Yozak’s eyes as if he were flipping through the pages of a book. It was surreal, like he was gazing into the essence of who I was while casually speaking.

“So, you’re what we call a gamer,” Yozak observed with a hint of amusement. “Let me simplify this for you. You can harvest energy by killing the creatures in the dump site,” he explained, referring to the world where he’d dumped his excess energy. “The energy you get comes in different values depending on how strong the creature is. And that energy? You can use it as currency in what I’m calling a ‘shopping system.’”

His words started to make sense now, and the idea of a system, something familiar and structured, made the overwhelming situation feel just a bit more manageable. I could see a path forward, albeit a daunting one.

“Why not just give us all of the energy so we can start preparing the army before the attack comes?” Eliza asked bluntly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Yozak responded with a booming laugh, the kind that echoed through the strange realm we found ourselves in, as if he were genuinely amused by her suggestion.

“That wouldn’t be fun, now would it?” he replied, still chuckling. “Your world is just one of my many creations, and to be honest, I don’t really care what happens to it. Think of it this way: I’m doing this for my own entertainment, to see how things play out against Zypherus. But you two? You’re doing it for the people you love.”

His words were maddening, a stark reminder of how insignificant our lives were to him. It was infuriating to think that the god who created us viewed this all as some twisted game. But as much as I hated to admit it, he was right about one thing—Eliza and I were the only ones who could save our world.

I clenched my fists, my resolve hardening. It didn’t matter if this was just entertainment for Yozak. For me, this was about protecting the people I cared about, and I would do everything in my power to save our world.

Yozak glanced at his watch, as if he had somewhere more important to be. Without any warning, he announced, “Well, time to start. May your journey end in victory…”

Before I could react, the ground beneath us vanished, replaced by a swirling portal that sent Eliza and me plummeting through the air. “Hey, wait—!” I barely managed to shout as we began falling fast, the world below slowly coming into view.

The fear of falling gripped me, but it was abruptly interrupted by a voice, calm and almost cheerful, that echoed around us. A floating screen appeared before my eyes, its message clear and unexpected.

“Welcome to the Skill Shop. Would you like to begin shopping?”