The last thing Ray saw on Earth was the grille of a delivery truck filling his whole world.
Ten seconds earlier he was crossing Delancey Street in the rain, collar up, thinking about nothing but dinner. Then a little girl in a yellow raincoat chased her bright ball off the curb, right into traffic.
He heard the horn, the brakes and her mother screaming, his body moving before his brain could vote.
"Get out of the road, kid—"
He hooked her by the hood and flung her clear, the ball bouncing away as the truck arrived. The impact folded him in half, throwing him twenty feet down the street in a spray of rainwater.
He lay on his back watching raindrops fall into his eyes, unable to feel his legs at all.
"Aghhh, you have got to be shitting me," he wheezed, blood bubbling on his lips as he stared at the clouds.
’The great Baba Yaga, who outlived every crime family in the city, is dying in a puddle for some kid like a damn fireman.’
He spent his last breath cursing, not at the driver but at how soft he let himself get.
When his eyes opened again, he stood on a crystal terrace floating above clouds that glowed like peaches. A warm wind tugged at his coat, carrying the smell of rain on flowers he could not name.
Somewhere close by a bell chimed softly, though there was no bell anywhere in sight.
A woman stood at the terrace edge, white wings folded behind her and a golden halo tilted off center. Sapphire hair spilled down her silver armor, her pale-gold eyes holding tiny points of starlight that watched him closely.
"The little girl in the yellow raincoat... did she make it?" he asked hoarsely.
"She is home with her mother, scraped knees and all, crying over a ball she will never see again."
Ray let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as something tight inside his chest finally came loose. He pressed a hand to his ribs, finding them whole beneath the cloth without a trace of pain.
’I’m dead at twenty, yet all I feel is relief that a stranger’s kid made it home, so I really have gone soft.’
"You gave your life for a child whose name you never learned," she said gently, "so I chose you over a thousand better souls."
"I’d appreciate it if that stayed between us, since I have a reputation to protect."
Then he finally looked at her properly, taking in the wings, the armor and the face.
"I have to say, if this is the afterlife, I’m a lot less upset about the truck than I was a minute ago."
"Are you attempting to flatter a goddess, mortal?" she asked, one eyebrow climbing.
"I’m not attempting anything, I’m just a dead guy telling a beautiful woman she’s beautiful, and surely that’s allowed up here?"
"I-I am a divine being of the eighth heaven," she sputtered, color rising in her cheeks, "whom you will address with the proper—"
"Proper respect, absolutely, I’m a huge fan of respect, so what should I call you?"
She smoothed her wings with great dignity, "You may call me Nomi, provided you stop smirking at me this instant."
"I can’t promise that, but I’ll smirk as respectfully as a man possibly can."
She cleared her throat, spreading her arms toward the horizon as if nothing happened at all.
"Chosen soul, you stand upon the threshold of Verfall, a world of swords and sorcery with wonders beyond counting, where ancient kingdoms rise—"
Ray raised his hand like a student in the back row, stopping her mid-word.
"Sorry to interrupt, but before you get to the kingdoms, does this job pay?"
The goddess froze with one arm still lifted toward the horizon, her mouth slightly open.
"You wish to know whether I intend to pay you," she said, as if the words left a sour taste in her mouth.
"I’d like to hear the terms before I agree to anything, considering I died about five minutes ago."
She lowered her arm, studying him, "You ask about payment the way other men reach for a blanket."
Ray’s grin slipped for half a second before he caught it and put it back.
"Money is the one part of this I actually understand, so it’s a damn good place to start."
"Then I shall skip to the part you understand," Nomi sighed, "though it was a very good speech."
"It was a great speech, a solid nine out of ten, though it would have been a ten without the blushing."
"Hmph, I did not blush."
"Hahaha, you’re doing it again right now."
Her wings rustled, the feathers puffing out like an offended cat deciding whether to scratch him.
Only then did he notice he was wearing a long black coat lined with blue, cut to fit perfectly. He flexed his fingers in the sleeves, finding his hands steadier than they ever were in his old life.
"I rebuilt you," she said, sounding like a baker presenting a cake, "with a new body, a divine seed resting in your chest and several gifts I suspect you will enjoy far too much."
"How much is too much, when my last good deed got me flattened by a truck?"
"Then perhaps stop stepping in front of trucks, which I am told is sound advice in every world."
She folded her hands, the starlight in her eyes dimming into something far older.
"In the north of this world sits a demon king named Dante, who is killing Verfall slowly."
"How does one man kill an entire world slowly," Ray asked, frowning, "unless he’s poisoning the water?"
"He drives siphons into the mana channels, the great rivers of power beneath the land that feed the crops, the wells and the children who drink from them, then drinks from those channels until every town nearby withers into rot."
Ray’s fingers went still inside his new sleeves, leaving only the quiet courtesy of a man opening a file.
"I need to know where he lives, what security he keeps and how many people stand between us."
Nomi’s wings drew in tight against her back, the way a dove folds small when a hawk crosses the sun.
"You do not understand what you are asking," she said softly.
"I understand it fine, since I ask those same three questions about every target."
"You cannot touch him," she said, all the ceremony gone from her voice, "not this year... nor in the next ten years, no matter what anyone in Verfall tells you."
’A goddess who can rebuild a dead man is scared of this guy, which tells me everything I need to know about the job.’
"Then it’s a long-term contract, where the whole trick is staying alive long enough to collect."
"Then I suggest you begin by staying alive."
She pressed fingers to the bridge of her nose, then lifted her other hand to split the air with light.
[ ARSENAL ONLINE ]
[Contractor: Ray K]
[Sidearms: Rune Pistol x2]
[Blades: Breaker Dagger, Hunting Dagger]
[Ammunition: 64 Rounds]
[Shop: Locked Until First Contract]
[Forge: Basic]
[ STATUS ]
[Name: Ray K]
[Rank: Unranked]
[Title: None]
[STR: 12]
[AGI: 14]
[VIT: 11]
[PER: 16]
[MANA: 0 / 0]
[Skills: Contract Style, Marksmanship]
[Weapons: Rune Pistol x2, Breaker Dagger, Hunting Dagger]
[Gear: None]
[Blueprints: None]
[Blueprint Points: 0]
[HC: 120]
"What does an average person score on these?" he asked, poking the glowing numbers.
"Roughly ten in each, though your numbers will climb whenever you accomplish something worth remembering."
Two pistols settled into his palms, the grips cool and the weight perfect, each slide etched with faint blue runes.
"Hello, beautiful," he breathed, turning one over with the tenderness of a man meeting a puppy, "whoever cut tolerances this clean deserves a medal."
"Are you speaking to the weapon?"
"I’m speaking to the second most beautiful thing on this terrace... if you must know."
Nomi opened her mouth, closed it, then pointedly looked at a cloud instead of him.
He racked the slide, checked the chamber and sighted at a cloud shaped like a duck. The action was crisp and smooth, far finer than any weapon he ever held back home.
’If Nomi is right that nobody here has ever seen a gun, then nobody here knows how to stop one.’
"Your shop opens once you complete your first paid job, with your forge growing alongside you," Nomi went on, ignoring how he was cooing at the barrel, "though I would ask you not to trade it away for drinks."
"Are goddesses really using me as a warning over one car I traded for a bottle of whiskey?"
"The people below measure one another by rank, with F at the very bottom, exactly where they will place you."
"That works for me, since people who think you’re nothing never bother to watch your hands."
"These weapons belong to you alone," she said, studying him the way a scholar studies a beetle, "as do the panels before your eyes, which no smith can copy and no one else can see, so speak of neither, nor of where you came from."
"Secrets are easy for me, but small talk is the part I’ll have to work on."
The light folded itself into a scroll, crisp lines of glowing text rolling open in the air between them.
[ MASTER CONTRACT OFFERED ]
[Contract: Death of a King]
[Target: Demon King Dante]
[Duration: Open]
[Reward: Disclosed to Contractor Only]
"The reward is only disclosed to the contractor," Ray said, tapping the last line, "so you owe me a number."
Nomi stepped close, her wings brushing his shoulders as she leaned in toward his ear.
"If you wanted to get this close, all you had to do was ask," he murmured.
"Be quiet and listen," she hissed, then whispered three sentences that turned the warm air cold.
Ray’s face did not move, though something behind his eyes went still.
’That is worth dying twice for, even for a man who died once today.’
"Holy hell," he said quietly, "that will do... very nicely."
"Then you accept the contract?"
"I accept, but let the record show that I asked about pay first," he said, pointing at her, "which is what we call professionalism."
"Here it is called being rude to a goddess," she sniffed, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
[ MASTER CONTRACT ACCEPTED ]
[Contract: Death of a King]
[Contractor: Ray K]
A second line appeared beneath it, smaller than the rest and written in a script that matched nothing above it.
[ Contract countersigned ]
Ray frowned, glancing from the new line to Nomi, who was humming while she straightened her halo. He opened his mouth to ask, then shut it, tucking the question away like a spare magazine.
’A contract only ever needs two signatures, but I’ll ask about the third one later, since you never ask a client a question you can’t afford to hear answered.’
"Where exactly am I landing?"
"You will land in a gorge to the south called Xua, where a caravan is about to make a very poor decision."
"Then I’d better get down there before they make it without me."
"Please try not to die again, Ray," she said, stepping back as the crystal beneath his feet began to glow, "for bringing your soul across cost me more power than I can spare a second time."
"I can’t promise anything, Your Goddess-ness, but if I do die, I’m requesting the same nurse."
"I am not a—"
The terrace dropped out from under him before she could finish, swallowing him in light.
As he fell, the last sound he heard was a goddess laughing despite herself.