Kyle tried to steady the shaking of his legs as he took in this mass of information. “Wait, so… I’m dead? I died… in a car bombing?”

“Yes. Try to keep up, please.”

“And you, Cali, are… what, the Grim Reaper?”

“It’s “Call-E,” you fool! And I clearly said I was the Deity of Time and Death! Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Sorry, sorry! And, you judging me… How do you do that? Was that what you did just now? Holding my head and–”

Khali stormed over, cutting him off as she got closer. “I said I was in charge of Time and Death, not patience! I’m not going to tolerate you repeating everything I quite literally just explained!” She seethed as she leaned in, more than a little irritated. Her golden eyes bore into Kyle’s, glowing furiously. “Do you need me to hold your hand over everything?”

“I… think you should at least let me try to figure out what’s going on first before you judge me, maybe? And do you seriously live in this abyss of nothing–”

“Ugh!” Khali threw her head back in frustration and began marching in a circle around Kyle once more. “This is why I can’t stand humans! Damnit Callous, couldn’t you create another of me to deal with them? Or to at least split the workload? Better yet, why not come and do it yourself? You lazy, spineless, pathetic excuse for a God of Creation!” The Deity of Time and Death stomped childishly as she raised her voice, shouting to the heavens as her high-heeled shoes sounded clacks that echoed for multiple times.

“Look. You died,” she said, turning back to Kyle. “And it’s my task to judge the whole of your life to determine where your soul will go. Because, unfortunately, souls don’t come with a quick summary for why they did each and every little thing throughout their life. Whether or not you understand what I do or why is irrelevant. And yes, this is my domain. Unlike the other Deities in charge of any and everything else in How’lea, since I have existed for far longer than I can be bothered to remember, I’ve lost the ability to care about what this place looks like. That’s why it is quiet, calm, and empty, without any distractions or anything to care about. When I have to care, though, it’s because of irritating fools that cause me undue hardship I would rather avoid altogether! Now, are you following so far?”

Kyle raised his hand. “What’s this ‘How’lea’ you mentioned?”

“The world you just died in.”

“And the grasping-my-head thing you did? Was that just a momentary glimpse into my memories?”

“A moment? Oh, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah no, that was a split second for you. I had to spend eighteen hours sifting through your memories. It’s normally an hour for every year past the age of five, but for you… well, you seem to be a special case.”

“I’m sorry, eighteen hours?!”

“I told you, I don’t have time for you to repeat what I have just said!”

“But you’re in charge of time, right? Shouldn’t you be able to twist it to make it only take a second for you too?” Kyle scratched his head where Khali had held him. “Not to mention, shouldn’t you have nothing but time for me to repeat anything?”

“You’re toeing a line, mortal.” Khali said. The clock-like halo disappeared from behind her head, and the scissor-blades from before materialized in her hands, pointed towards him. “I may not be able to properly deal with your soul right now, but I can make you wish I could. You’re asking pointless questions without understanding anything, and I’m getting sick of it.”

“Hey, I’m asking questions because I don’t understand!” Kyle held his hands up in defense. “Then what about this Callous you were just yelling at? A God of Creation? That sounds pretty important to me. Is he like… the God of How’lea?” 

Khali’s shoulders sagged as she sighed, rolling her eyes again.

“Yes, he is the one who started it all,” she explained, her weapon returning to its halo form. “Callous is the one who should be in charge of any and everything, but he’s lazy and unreliable. So he created his own pantheon of Deities to delegate certain aspects of reality. Of course, I just happened to be the first one he created, so he delegated one of the most important responsibilities to me: Time. Then, After he went and created humanity, he put me in charge of Death too. One deity, in charge of the two most prominent aspects of life and the world at large? You’d have to be either insane or an asshole to do that. Spoiler: he’s both!”

“But… he’s a God of Creation, right? Isn’t he supposed to be, like, Divine or Holy? In my world, people believe in–” Kyle started, but a look from Khali shut him right up. He could imagine the halo disappearing and finding two massive blades piercing his chest in the next moment. “You know, I think I’ll take your word for it,” he finished with a terrified nod. 

This has got to be the strangest iteration of a Goddess I’ve ever seen. So many isekai stories have some real scary or shitty divine beings, but this one is just… so different. I still can’t figure out why I’m in this mess either; can’t fate make up its mind about what it wants to do with me?

“Callous is the epitome of ‘whispering game gone wrong.’ I pity the mortals who worship him,” she said, shaking her head. “Anyways, I got off track for a moment. Where were we?”

“I was asking you to elaborate about my… current predicament.”

“Oh, right. The issue at hand.” Khali made a shoving motion, and Kyle fell backwards, landing in an invisible seat. She waltzed up and sat in a chair several feet away from him, crossing her legs and resting her hands atop her knee. “So again: you died. Nothing inherently wrong with that. It has happened or will happen to every human that’s ever lived. It’s inevitable! But we’ve got a bit of a problem now that you’re here.”

She waved a hand, and the crimson string from earlier translated through space, coming to a stop between them. It was just out of Kyle's reach, but Khali was easily able to reach it, especially with her halo-turned-weapon. This time, she attempted to snip the string, using the weapon as a massive pair of scissors instead of swords like before.

The blades passed easily through the string, as if it weren’t even there. Khali tried this a few more times, attempting higher and lower on the string, but all to the same effect. She returned the blades once more, and held her now empty hands out. “See, I can’t actually end your soul's little adventure called life. The thread of fate dictates the journey of a soul, and when that journey ends, I am supposed to cut the string, and then perform judgment and sentencing.”

“But… you’ve already tried judging me, right? Even when you can’t touch the string?”

“Oh I can touch it,” she said, reaching out to give the string a flick. That sent vibrations through it, but otherwise did nothing. “I simply cannot cut it and bring about an end to you. But, looking at your memories, I think I can see why…” She trailed off as she gazed upwards, as if looking for where the red string might begin.

“Does it have anything to do with the fact that I’m not from How’lea?” Kyle asked.

“I’m going to assume so, yes.” Khali returned her gaze level with Kyle, leaning over and resting her chin on one hand. “You see, I’ve never had this happen before. Callous never exactly gave me a guidebook on what to do when the rules of reality are broken by the appearance of an otherworldly character. He didn’t really give me any rules for ending a life, judging them, or sentencing them either, but I’ve at least managed to come up with my own system over the billions of lives I’ve had to deal with thus far. And aside from a case here and there, I’ve stuck to it–”

“Wait,” Kyle said, holding a hand up. “You mean the fate of everyone’s soul is based on a set of rules you don’t even have to adhere to?”

“Mhm?”

“How is that fair?”

“How is anything fair?” Khali shot back. “It certainly wasn’t fair of Callous to shove all this responsibility on us Deities so he could lay back and just spectate us for the rest of time. Especially when we’re limited in what we’re capable of doing, even with our divine powers! But I digress.” She stood up and began pacing in a clockwise circle around Kyle again. “Now I’ll admit, having an unofficial, undetermined set of rules for deciding where someone’s soul goes may sound a little…”

“Vague and arbitrary?”

“I was going to say like a load of crap, but that works. Regardless, I have my rules, and I abide by them. Usually. For example, I make sure to never finish my judgment until I have seen the whole of someone’s life. You never know how one might redeem their loathsome self, or throw away everything they’ve earned in a bout of selfishness and stupidity. Any soul that doesn’t make it five years gets a second chance, as well; that’s just too short a time for anything. And only those who prove to be too big a problem for the balance of the world get nipped in the bud early. Or at least they used to…” Khali crossed her arms and trailed off, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Well,” Kyle said, standing up, “that does sound more fair than I was expecting. And without the same experience you’ve had doing all of… this, I can’t imagine I’d be able to fully comprehend everything you’ve got outlined when it comes to judging a soul. But I’m not interested in that right now, anyhow.” He walked over, trying to not let his uncertainty betray him. “You said you can’t cut my string of fate, so you can’t finish passing judgment on me, right? Whether or not that’s because I’m from another world aside… what happens now?”

“Oh, I can pass judgment. In fact, I already have,” she said, making her way over to look down at Kyle. “I just cannot sentence your soul. No eternal bliss or suffering for you. And no reincarnating at your age, either.”

Kyle couldn’t think of how to respond to that. Here he was, at the end of his life– his afterlife– and there was nowhere left to go, nothing left to do. Not even rest in peace, by the sounds of it. His voice shook as he voiced the next question he was dreading the answer to. “If you don’t mind me asking, then… H-how have you judged me? Like… what would you do with my soul if you could sentence it? Can you tell me that much?”

Khali’s face did not change as she watched Kyle squirm to get the question out, but he couldn’t tell whether it was from indecision or apathy. She blinked once, her golden eyes shifting focus from Kyle to behind him.

“To be totally honest, I’m not entirely sure if it’s even my place to judge the soul of someone from another world. Your circumstances are clearly different, and I know not the lore or reason for your world being the way it is, or why your life turned out the way it did.” She held out a hand, displaying what looked like a large pocket-watch. 

Why does even a goddess like her have a pocket watch? Are they just that trendy or something?

But as Kyle peered closer, he saw that instead of a clock face, the watch was displaying his memories. The same visions he’d experienced for a second time just a few minutes ago were now playing out on the watch, as if it were a smartphone. “I’ll admit, this is the most fascinating judgment I’ve had to make in a long, long time. Your life, your world, piques my curiosity quite a bit. Under different circumstances, I’d be eager to learn more.”

“Then–”

“However! Despite that, as well as my uncertainty on my authority to even judge you in the first place, I still have a duty to uphold. The soul is a powerful construct, composed of memories, relationships, and impacts made on and by others. So I can’t exactly delete you from existence, especially since your thread is still intact. Not to mention I’d lose these… intriguing memories I’d like to examine more.” She walked through Kyle once again, and stopped in front of the red string of fate. “Hmm… I could send you to where the remnants of obliterated souls go, see if the edge of oblivion is enough to deal with you. And if not, at least you’d be out of sight, out of mind. That’s sentencing you enough. What do you think?” 

Before Kyle could protest, she snapped her fingers.

The light emanating from under Kyle’s feet ceased, and the invisible floor he’d just been standing on vanished. He passed through the would-be ground as if he were falling through a thin layer of ice, returning once more to the pitch black abyss he’d first awoken to, absent of any and all senses.