Chapter 1: The Dunes

I often hear from people, my parents included, that I have a "wicked" look in my eyes. People don't exactly recoil, but they try not to meet my gaze; they shift their attention elsewhere and isolate themselves from my company as much as possible. Others, conversely, try to call me out on it—countless street fights have started because of my "crooked" stare, as they put it, which apparently wounded their ego or pride.

Or perhaps people just assume I’m being rude because of my somewhat raspy, smoke-strained voice. Any response I gave to the local thugs was a priori interpreted as cocky, arrogant, and… well, I could list plenty more epithets. Though, I only started smoking because of those very fights: thugs shaking me down for my phone, rich kids flaunting their power, or trying to outrun unhinged classmates who’d call me out for a "behind the garages" showdown. It felt like everything was trying to kill me. In a word: stress. And yet, if it were up to me, I wouldn't even hurt a fly.

I would have loved to find a girl who wouldn't run away during the first date or hang up the phone thinking I was some kind of gangster. I’d love to repeat the only date I ever had in twenty-five years—spent on the beach, under an umbrella, with a glass in hand. To splash around with a loved one again... but unfortunately, I am forced to relieve myself alone. And not on a beach, but under a pouring rain.

Drip-drip-drip…

Whether out of spite or some incredible coincidence, the moment I stepped off the bus, the skies opened up. There hadn't been a hint of trouble, but I’d taken an umbrella with me anyway and carried it all day, despite the odd looks. I snapped it open, stepped off the curb, and headed home, my polished shoes treading through the mud. My face didn't betray a hint of surprise; when you live with this level of coincidence your whole life, you start preparing for anything. My feet automatically avoided manhole covers, and on every road, my eyes darted around in search of stray cars or speeding trucks.

How does the saying go... a fool learns from his own mistakes, a wise man from others’? After being that fool a couple of times and ending up in the hospital, you involuntarily start looking to the experience of others. Books, movies, short stories… I gathered survival wisdom from everywhere. I had no intention of being the lunatic who, through sheer carelessness, fails to notice a giant ice cream truck "unexpectedly" and "silently" lunging from around a corner. Yeah, right.

Nevertheless, sometimes someone has it even harder than I do. Walking past the houses, my gaze caught a shivering puppy huddled against a building. After glancing around for a potential owner, I felt compelled to stand beside him and cover him with my umbrella. Looking closer, I saw a tucked paw, bleeding and likely broken.

"Are you having a rotten day too?" I crouched down and heard a low growl. I had to stub out my cigarette so as not to offend the dog's sensitive nose. Remembering the handkerchief I always kept in my pocket for wiping off dirt, I slowly picked up the unresisting, cold dog and pressed him to my chest. Even though I ruined my new blazer, the one I’d put on for the interview, trying to wrap the paw, I honestly didn't care. I hadn't gotten the job anyway. They said I wasn't a "good fit" for client-facing work.

"Hey, look."

"What is he doing to that dog?"

Schoolgirls passing by began to leer and whisper, sensing some evil intent in my actions. But with just a glance, simple and calm, I terrified them all. Even the schoolgirls fled in fear.

Ah, right... I’d developed faster than my peers since childhood. I was a bit taller and more muscular than the other kids, which apparently gave the older boys the official right to harass me. Perhaps that's why the stress had gifted me with wrinkles, the kind that so frightened women.

"We need to get you warm and fed," I muttered. Seeing the dog shivering violently, I trudged home with him. At the threshold of my apartment, I kicked off my muddy shoes and went to the kitchen. Laying out some paper towels, I set a few pieces of chicken before the dog and sat down at the dining table. My face was reflected in the window; slightly damp black hair clung to my angular features. My eyes reflected nothing but exhaustion. "I need to call a vet clinic."

"Hey, human."

The last thing I expected to hear today was another voice in my apartment. And it wasn't from some random burglar, there had been precedents for that, but from... the dog sitting on the table. "Yes, I’m talking to you, mortal."

"A talking... stray?" My chair flew out from under me as quickly as I recoiled from the table.

"Grrr." Baring his teeth, the dog barked in my direction. "I am no stray, I am a Deity! Once, mortals exalted my name and called me Anubis, God of Death."

"No way... do I have a gas leak?" I glanced at the gas detector, bought specifically after a bout of severe hallucinations, and froze. It was normal. But the dog sitting on the table, looking at me with sentient eyes, suggested otherwise. "A stray using the name of an Egyptian God? Isn't that... heresy?"

"Again with my form," the growl grew louder. I backed away further. "Sigh. Foolish mortals. Can't you see I am seriously wounded? Times aren't what they used to be; I had a skirmish with Bastet that drained a vast amount of my strength. We had a bit of a falling out."

"...Fighting like cats and dogs."

"If she heard you, she’d slit your throat." The puppy trotted proudly across my table. "Or maybe she’d just watch you. A lingering death is much more interesting. Especially one soaked in a mortal's suffering and despair."

Trapped on an emotional seesaw, listening to passive-aggressive threats from a self-proclaimed God of Death, I pressed myself against the wall. My defensive reflex of making jokes wasn't helping anymore. I was too terrified to open my mouth.

Anubis looked me over from head to toe.

"You could drop dead at any moment; your life is a game of lottery." He lay down quite calmly and began licking his paw. "It seems someone forgot to endow you with even a shred of luck. Gods have stopped paying attention to the world lately. They’ve run wild, wandering through other worlds, handing out powers left and right. Creating all these... H-S-Ps... High school protagonists... they've gone completely mad."

"L... Luck?"

"Yes. Apparently, you’re just very observant, which is why you haven't succumbed to death yet." He looked around intently, studying the bars on the windows, the various sensors, the leak protection systems, and even the number of locks on the front door. "But you won't be able to avoid meeting me Over There for long. Sooner or later, you will die, and clearly by unnatural means—violence, an accident, witches, or sorcerers. And there is no way for you to get rid of your lack of blessing; you cannot remove what isn't there. Even in your next life, you will likely remain a loser."

He spoke with absolute nonchalance, lazily licking his paw. But... those words pierced me to my core. He knew how my life was going, as if he had been its sole observer. And it couldn't be stopped? To play lottery with my life every day, to fight off persistent bums and junkies, to be eternally alone, loved by no one... for the rest of my life and all future reincarnations? A losing streak lasting... an eternity.

Slowly sitting down on a stool, I pulled out my cigarettes. I struck a light and smoked while Anubis tracked my movements.

"Don't count on divine help either, even though you helped my hide, I don't fully control the underworld or the reincarnation process. And I won't be able to strike a deal with anyone else—you can see for yourself, it's a mess up there. I only fought Bastet because the Gods aren't fulfilling their primary duties."

Even the Gods couldn't help. At that, I simply pulled the cigarette from my mouth and stared at the floor with a glassy gaze.

"But that doesn't mean the problem is unsolvable." He forced me to lift my head.

"You said yourself my luck can't be restored," I snapped, the bitterness bleeding into my voice. But for perhaps the first time, no one took offense.

"No, but you can keep doing what you’re already doing, only better." He left my brain at a dead end. "Sigh. Stupid mortal, I will give you the ability to avoid unfortunate events! In this world, you cannot rely on luck for everything; it is possible to make decisions that bypass chance. Humans cannot see which decision will be beneficial, but... I will teach you. You will retain your freedom of choice, the Gods' greatest gift to humanity, but you will still continue to live with your curse."

"Ah... my heart..."

"I understand."

"No, I’m serious. It hurts." Clutching my chest, I collapsed to my knees. I wanted to ask the God so many questions, ask if I could find a girl with his gift. If I could return to a normal life and, at least, touch something human. But my vision was blurring rapidly.

"You shouldn't have taken up smoking in this life. Well, I suppose you'll receive the gift in the next one instead. Hmm, Osiris is unlikely to approve of this. Eh, whatever, I'll just say you’re one of my believers. Though all my believers appear exclusively in one specific climate zone~ Oh well, you'll like it."

******

"Waaa... Waaaaa!"

My loud cry echoed through a small tent, as a searing pain in my lungs tore at me from the inside. From the moment I appeared, I could feel grains of sand on my teeth; the exhausting, stifling heat made it impossible to concentrate or come to my senses. Even as a strange shadow before my eyes began to rock me, and another standing behind it started speaking, my head was filled with nothing but questions.

Didn't I just die? Why do I feel only a sense of awe, as if between my death and birth, I had seen something magnificent? Endless gardens where nymphs splash and Gods rest, while the fate of mortals is decided by Anubis.

And what was it Anubis promised me that I can't quite remember...

[Multi-Choice System is preparing all paths for safe SURVIVAL...]

[Given the high risk of mortality during birth, you have been placed into a child who has already entered the world.]

At that moment, against the backdrop of the blurred world, blue text appeared.

[Safe paths found. From now on, you will be presented with various options to choose from; by selecting them, you direct your own life into one channel or another, bypassing ILL-luck. I warn you now: it is a priori impossible to get rid of all negative effects, but you can trust the System’s options, even if they seem strange to you. And now...]

[Make a decision:]

[1 — Reach out your hands to the shadow holding you (Your relationship will improve).]

[2 — Reach out your hands to the shadow standing slightly to the side (Your relationship will improve).]

[3 — Press your hands to your body, ignoring the presence of the shadows (By keeping to yourself, "Renegade" options will appear. Life as a stray has its perks).]

It seemed Anubis's words were starting to come back to me. Now, I could at least try to live like a normal person... and yet, I couldn't stop relying on my intuition.

The text vanished. Lifting my hands and casting a glance toward the shadow in the distance, I reached my tiny fingers toward it. How I wished the veil would lift from my eyes so I could see what I was doing.

******

Shhhhhh…

A warm breeze swept past my tent, kicking up clouds of sand. Sitting on the step at the entrance, watching the sun set into the dunes, casting glittering rays onto the reflective sand, I still couldn't understand... why I had been dumped into a cursed, vast desert located in the center of an equally vast continent. Why, of all the places I had seen on that very familiar map in my parents' house, did I end up in a desert that scorches every nerve ending and grinds down your feet?

And it wouldn't be so bad if this were the modern era, with all the advanced medical equipment, rescue gear, and cutting-edge transport that could make my life at least a little easier, given my luck. But not in a world of howling benders, where a war of genocide has been raging for a hundred years! Where only one small, pacifist child is meant to decide the fate of the entire world's development.

Anubis, why?!

[Choose:]

[1 — Wipe away your tears and prove you’re no pushover (Daily training time will increase by a couple of hours).]

[2 — Keep crying, then drink some fermented juice (Training time will drop to zero).]

[3 — Realize that persistence or a life of safety isn't for you (You can try to get a job as a cleaner in a bar. Training time will be significantly reduced).]