I didn't know what I expected when a god said I could change my appearance.
Maybe a mirror? A floating orb? A majestic golden light shining down like I was some chosen hero?
Nope.
What I got instead was a full-ass character creation interface in form of a hologram literally floating in front of me. It pinged with that subtle chime one can hear in games when customizing an avatar. Rows upon rows of appearance options spiraled through the air—eyes, hair, skin tone, height,bone structure, voice pitch. It even had tabs for facial expressions, posture presets, and clothing tastes. I swear to all the dead stars in this void, there was a damn personality slider.
"Are you kidding me?"
I muttered, dragging a finger through the air as the interface whirled in response. It was responsive, intuitive even. It felt less like divinity and more like playing on a futuristic touchscreen with way too much processing power.
Behind me, the God of Runes was lounging on nothing, cross-legged on open space, surrounded by what looked like chat bubbles and cosmic graphs. He was flipping through conversations, some in languages I couldn't even begin to understand.
"Do gods use tech now?" I muttered to myself, side-eyeing him.
He glanced over. "Hm?"
I waved a hand through the hair texture tab.
"Nothing. Just wondering if the divine council has its own version of group chats."
He smirked. The bastard actually smirked.
"Something like that."
Of course. Of course gods would be hanging out in space, exchanging cosmic DMs while humanity burned down like a gas station fire. Makes perfect sense.
I turned back to the projection. Swiping through appearances felt surreal, like every skin I could've had in some alternate universe was just there. I paused on a version of me with striking blue skin, silver dreadlocks, and glowing eyes, looking like some high-tier alien royalty.
Cool, but no.
Another had wings. Another was male. Another was androgynous and ethereal, all porcelain skin and hair like moonlight.
And another… looked exactly like me. The old me. Dirty cheeks, ratty hair, shadows under my onyx dead eyes from sleepless nights. That street kid version of me. The girl no one saw.
I stared at her for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. That girl… I hated her, but I was her.
No. Not again.
I flicked her away and made my decision.
The next section was "Origin Points." Fancy way of saying "Pick your spawn location," I guess.
The options sprawled out in a star-map format. Cities, families, even districts. There were rich dynasties with pristine estates and thousand-year bloodlines. There were tech-based communes in fortified skyscrapers. There were forest tribes with elemental blood and literal talking trees. Some families had genetic perfection baked into their legacy, some had militaristic regimes, others ran black market empires.
I hovered over a few.
The Lin Brelhaven Bloodline—ruthless aristocrats who ran a pharmaceutical empire before the Blood Rain. Their children were educated in luxury, gifted the moment they could breathe.
The Lokari Nomads—desert-born and sun-burnt, travelers of the sand storms, with powers inherited from a god.
The Abrivers— which is one of the six to eight famous bloodlines in the world.
I felt something tug in me as I scrolled.
"What do you think?" I asked without turning around.
The god looked up from his floating interface, which now had what looked like a cat video playing on one tab.
"You're asking me to decide for you?"
"No, I'm asking if you're still watching videos in divine 12K while I try to re-roll my entire existence."
He actually laughed.
"You're very strange for a mortal."
"Thanks. You're very calm for someone who could smite me with a blink."
He didn't deny it.
I hovered over one last option. It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't rich. But it wasn't alone either. There was a mother. A father. A small home. It was better than what I had before.
And just like that… I felt the weight of it all hit me.
This wasn't just a new life. This was my only shot.
I could choose anything. Be anything. But I didn't want to forget who I was. I didn't want luxury to erase the fire in me that was born from dirt and hunger and clawing against a world that didn't care.
"Alright," I whispered. "Let's do it."
"Chosen?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Countryside family. My features are described here."
He snapped his fingers lazily. The interface dissolved into light.
"Then it's done."
Just when I thought the whole "choose-your-destiny" vibe was settling down, he looked at me again and tilted his head like he remembered something important.
"What was your Flux in your last life?"
"Alteration."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I could control metal. Not just shape it, but break it down, reconfigure it, infuse it into other things. Turn bullets into ribbons. Turn walls into blades. It kept me alive."
He nodded like he was scrolling through a mental archive, pulling out my file.
"Well, you can't have the same one."
"What? Why not?"
"You died and you're being reborn. The soul must change, and so must the tether it aligns to."
I frowned. "So what, I get something random?"
"No. I'll choose it."
That stopped me cold.
"You're choosing my Flux?"
"I am a god," he said, like that was enough. And, annoyingly, it kind of was. Still, I crossed my arms.
"You sure you won't give me something stupid? Like... the ability to make flowers bloom?"
He actually chuckled. "You're not getting some dainty Base Flux. I'll give you something useful. Something... different. It won't be what you're used to, but it will serve you."
My stomach twisted a little. Not fear, exactly. Just that gnawing unknown. That feeling of letting go of what made me me.
He must've seen it on my face, because he added, "You're not getting this power from rain or genetics from the parents you chose. You're getting it from me. A god. Have some faith in someone who is helping you regress won't you?"
That shut me up.
"...Alright. I trust you."
We stood in silence for a moment. Well, I stood. He floated, still sitting on literal space like it was a recliner made of infinity. The weight of everything buzzed in my ears again. I exhaled. So this was it, huh?
"So why can't you do it?" I asked quietly. "Why can't you just go back in time and fix it all yourself?"
His expression didn't shift. His eyes darkened a little though, like clouds passing behind stars.
"I am not permitted to interfere with mortal issues. I can influence. I can guide. I can gift. But I cannot fix. Not for all. I am not the god of salvation. I can help a few. But not the whole race."
"That's... cruel."
"It's balance."
I looked down then, up again.
"Then why me?"
He smiled gently.
"Because you didn't flinch when speaking to a god. Because you're already dead, and you're still asking why. Because—" he reached a hand out and tapped the air like pressing a key— "I like Earth. And I want someone who still has fire left to protect it."
"..."
"Are you absolutely sure?" He asked one last time. "You can still choose a better life. A better family. You don't have to go back to chaos. There are options here far easier than the one you've chosen."
I clenched my fists.
"I know what I'm doing."
His eyes studied me for a long moment. Then, softly:
"Then I'll see you again, Verdamona."
He raised his fingers.
"Wait, what kind of Flux are you giving me?" I asked, my heart pounding.
He winked.
"You'll find out the moment you turn four, Verdamona."
Snap.
Light swallowed me whole.
And just like that, I was gone.