There was a moment—just a flash—where Asher thought, Ah. So this is death.
It wasn't painful.
It wasn't even dramatic.
It was just... a blink.
One second he was in a mangled mess of metal and fire, the next he was standing in a place that didn't make any damn sense.
Fog everywhere. Thick, endless fog that moved like it was alive. It curled around his shoes, licked at his sleeves, twisted up into the sky—if there even was a sky.
And through it all, there were eyes.
Eight pairs of them.
Each one glaring at him through the mist.
One pair black as a starless night.
One pair glowing a beautiful red.
One pair icy blue.
One pair shining blinding gold.
And then more on the right.
A pair of green, a forest in a storm.
A pair of white, empty like fresh snow.
A pair of purple, deep, a swirling galaxy.
And a pair of silver, sharp enough to cut.
They didn't blink... they just stared.
And Asher?
He stared right back.
Dead silent, sizing them up like they were another damn blueprint he had to approve.
But then finally, after what felt like a full minute, Asher spoke first:
"Are you all Gods or something?"
The mist stirred.
Eight pairs of eyes swiveled to look at the ones he hadn't noticed, grey ones, like they were saying: "You handle this one."
The grey eyes gave a small chuckle—not loud, just a lazy, almost amused sound.
"Gods, huh? Many like to call us that, sure. We don't really buy into it, though. Kinda kills the title if there's more than one, y'know?"
The voice was casual. Almost... tired. Like 'He'd' given that same speech a thousand times already and didn't care anymore.
"Anyway, you can call us whatever you want,"
'He' added.
"Makes no difference to us."
Asher gave a little nod. Ticking off a box in his mind.
"I see. So why bring me here? What do you want from me? And uh... heads-up—I'm just an engineer. Pretty sure I can't give you what you want."
Another laugh from Grey, this one a little louder.
"You're already proving why we picked you. Don't worry, you're not here to kiss some princess's hand. It's your specialty we need. Something only you could do... at least in this pocket."
Asher tilted his head slightly, curious now.
"Hm. This about the game?"
There was a tiny pause—like even the grey-eyed one wasn't expecting him to guess that fast.
"...Yeah. Bingo."
Grey's voice now sounded a little more interested as well.
"When you go down there, the system'll fill you in. No need for a whole PowerPoint presentation right now."
Asher scratched the back of his head, glancing around the misty void.
"A system, huh? Like those novels kids are into? Status screens, magic cheat codes, weird gift boxes?"
The grey eyes practically rolled.
"Pffft, no. No triple-S nonsense here. You're not getting some overpowered bullshit where you can snap your fingers and blow up a city."
He paused.
"Okay, you could eventually, but not because of us. It'll just be the game's old AI, recreated in your head. Guide you a bit. Rest's on you."
Asher nodded slowly.
"Huh. Alright. Sounds manageable."
There was another beat of silence, then Grey spoke again, a little softer:
"No last words to your family? Anyone you wanna say goodbye to?"
Asher actually thought about it for a second, hand on his chin.
"Hmm... nah. I guess just... send them my regards?"
The fog shivered a little, almost like it was laughing.
"You are hopeless, mortal."
Grey was half amused, half exasperated.
"Seriously boring. Absolutely zero dramatic flair. No regrets. No tearful speeches. Not even a 'tell my mother I love her.'"
Asher just shrugged.
"What's the point? They'll be fine, all my money will go to them."
The other eyes in the mist shifted, a few muttering under their breath in languages Asher couldn't understand—or maybe he could, and just didn't care enough to notice.
Grey sighed dramatically.
"But y'know what? That's exactly why we chose you. You're not here to cry about the past. You're an emo kid's wetdream... the best tool in the shed."
The mist thickened around Asher, wrapping tighter and tighter until he could barely see the eyes anymore.
Grey's voice came one last time, almost fondly:
"Good luck down there, Engineer. Break the world for us."
And then everything went black again.