I woke to the sensation of nothing. No light. No sound. No warmth. Not emptiness—absence. As if even the idea of existence had been scrubbed away. It was a hollowing void that stripped not only matter, but meaning. Not a place, not even a dream. Simply a conceptless state. No direction. No up, down, or any bearing to anchor the mind.
If I still had a body, I couldn't feel it. If I still had eyes, they weren't working. Even my thoughts felt dulled, as if they had to travel through molasses to reach me.
Great. Either I was dreaming, or I had died in the most boring way possible. Of all the apocalypses I could have imagined—fire, brimstone, a nuclear flash of light—this? This was the cosmic equivalent of waiting in a dentist's office with no magazines.
Then, a voice sliced through the nothingness, smooth as silk and dripping with amusement. "Well, well. Color me underwhelmed."
I blinked—no, felt myself blink, like a simulation flickering back online, as if my senses were clicking back into place one by one. Taste returned with the metallic bite of fear. Smell came next, though it carried nothing tangible. Then came sensation—vibration, pressure, gravity. The void around me shifted, a rippling distortion in the fabric of reality, until suddenly, I was somewhere.
It was… hard to describe. The sky was a swirling mass of colors, like oil spilled on water, shifting between hues that shouldn't exist—lavender that hummed, red that smelled like smoke, green that pulsed with warmth. Stars flickered in and out of existence like dying embers, each one vanishing with a pop of static. And the ground—if it was ground—felt solid but looked like nothing. Just an endless expanse of shifting, formless space beneath my feet.
And standing before me, arms crossed and expression unimpressed, was a man. No, not a man. A god.
He was tall and lean, dressed in green and gold robes stitched with shifting patterns—like runes that danced when you weren't looking. His long, auburn hair framed a sharp, angular face, his piercing emerald eyes glowing faintly with mischief. He radiated an aura of power, the kind that could make a lesser being drop to their knees in reverence—or fear.
But the most telling thing? He was grinning like a fox that had just found its way into the henhouse. Relaxed and smug, like a creature who had all the answers and knew you never would.
"Loki," I muttered, because who else could it be?
The god's grin widened. "Oh good, you do have a brain in there. I was beginning to worry." He took a step forward, hands steepled together as he studied me. "I must say, I was expecting more from you. Screaming. Maybe a dramatic monologue about how unfair life is." He sighed, shaking his head. "But no. You see the end of the world coming, and all you do is sip your coffee and make a half-hearted joke. Truly underwhelming."
I stared at him. "What, would you rather I had thrown myself at the window and declared vengeance upon the gods or something?"
Loki clapped his hands together. "Now that would have been entertaining!" He sighed again, dramatically, as if I had somehow let him down. "The last time I plucked someone from a world-ending event, they at least attempted a last-minute hero moment. You? You just sat there." He gave me a pointed look. "Dull."
I rubbed my temples, only to realize I wasn't even sure if I had a head to rub right now. "Okay. So, what happens now? Are you here to send me to Helheim? Reincarnate me? Or just mock me until I dissolve into existential despair?"
Loki smirked. "Oh, I could definitely do the last one, but that would be wasting a perfectly good opportunity." He flicked his wrist, and suddenly, a small, glowing object appeared in his palm—a shimmering rune, pulsing faintly with energy. "You see, I have plans for you. A little experiment, if you will."
I frowned. "What kind of experiment?"
Loki grinned. "The fun kind." He tossed the rune into the air, and it hovered between us, spinning slowly. "Tell me, mortal—do you believe in second chances?"
I hesitated. "I don't know. Do you?"
Loki chuckled. "Oh, I love second chances. Third chances, fourth chances—as many as it takes to get what I want." His expression shifted, something sharper lurking beneath the playfulness. "And what I want… is to see what you'll do when given power beyond mortal comprehension."
That got my attention. "Power?"
He nodded. "You've seen the stories, haven't you? The ones where men become more than men? Where a mere human suddenly gains the ability to shape the world as they see fit?" He spread his arms. "I'm offering you that chance. A gift. A system to guide your path. A way to survive in a world that would otherwise swallow you whole."
I narrowed my eyes. "And the catch?"
Loki's grin was pure mischief. "Oh, you'll find out."
Before I could protest, he snapped his fingers. The rune flared with blinding light, and suddenly, a screen appeared in front of me.
[System Initialization: Welcome, Drengr.] [Assigning Starting Parameters…] [Preparing for Transfer…]
Drengr? That was different. Not 'Player,' not 'User'— Drengr. The word echoed with the weight of blood and old songs. What did it mean again? Warrior? Adventurer? I couldn't remember. But it tasted ancient. Important.
I barely had time to process it before Loki clapped his hands together, drawing my attention back to him. "Now, before I throw you into your new life, I suppose I should give you a bit of context." His grin turned sharp, and with a wave of his hand, the strange, shifting void around us rippled.
Suddenly, images flashed before my eyes.
A coastline of jagged cliffs, battered by roaring waves. Ships with towering sails, their prows carved into snarling beasts. Warriors, clad in iron and leather, clashing in the mud with axes and swords, their battle cries lost in the storm.
Then the scene changed.
A cavern deep beneath the earth, where something massive stirred in the darkness. A single glowing eye cracked open, its gaze burning like molten gold.
A creature, hunched and misshapen, creeping through the woods, its flesh twisted and gnarled, its mouth split into a jagged, unnatural grin.
A figure draped in shadow, standing atop a frozen peak, whispering to the wind—and the wind whispered back.
Then came more—a woman made of fire, dancing through a battlefield of ash. A hall of mirrors where every reflection wore a different face. A tree so massive it blotted out the sun, roots tunneling into infinity.
The visions vanished, leaving me reeling. I took a step back, trying to shake off the residual sensation of cold steel, damp earth, and something far more unnatural.
Loki was watching me closely, clearly enjoying my reaction. "You see," he said, voice dripping with amusement, "the world I'm sending you to isn't quite like the one you left behind. Oh, it has the same seas, the same skies, the same endless wars fought over land and pride." He leaned in slightly. "But the difference? The stories in this world... are a little less of an exaggeration."
I exhaled sharply. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Loki drawled, flicking his wrist, "when people tell tales of creatures in the woods that steal children in the night, they're not just cautionary fables." He tilted his head. "When a warrior boasts that he slew a draugr and lived to tell the tale? He probably did." His grin widened. "And when a skald sings of gods walking among men, pulling the strings of fate... well." He gestured to himself, smiling.
I swallowed. "So... everything is real?"
Loki shrugged. "More or less. It depends on how you define real." He flicked his fingers, and another image flared to life—a massive, serpentine creature twisting through storm-darkened waters, its scales glinting like wet stone. "The Midgard Serpent? Oh, he's down there. Sleeping... for now." He waved his hand again, showing a towering, antlered figure wreathed in mist, its glowing eyes peering through the trees. "The huldrefolk? They're watching. Always." Another flick of his wrist, and I saw a massive hall, warriors feasting at long wooden tables under a ceiling so high it seemed to stretch into the heavens. "Valhalla? Real enough, though not as easy to get into as people think."
The images vanished, leaving only Loki's smirking face. "So yes, Drengr. In this world, myths don't fade into legend. They live."
I let that sink in. My world had myths, too—stories of gods and monsters, of heroes and curses. But we had written them off as exaggerations, tales meant to entertain and instruct.
Not here.
Here, the monsters were real. The gods were watching. And me? I was about to be dropped into the middle of it.
"Why me?" I asked finally, narrowing my eyes. "Why bring me into this?"
Loki's grin turned dangerous. "Because you amuse me."
I blinked. "That's it?"
He laughed. "Well, mostly. But if you must have a deeper reason, let's just say... I'm curious. Curious about what someone like you will do when given the chance to shape your own fate." He gestured at the screen floating beside me. "You see, your new life comes with a gift—a way to survive in this world, to thrive in it. The system will be your guide, your weapon, your curse."
The screen pulsed, and new text appeared: [Assigning Starting Parameters...] [Initializing Core Abilities...]
I felt the shift—some unseen force pulling at me, dragging me toward the unknown. The world twisted, reality folding around me as the system screen flickered with more text: [Finalizing Rebirth Process…]
But then—just as I was about to be yanked into whatever fresh hell awaited me—Loki leaned in, his grin widening with an extra glint of mischief.
"Oh, and one last thing, Drengr," he said casually, like he was reminding me to pack a lunch. "You're going to be reborn as a baby."
My brain screeched to a halt. "What?"
Loki nodded sagely, as if this was perfectly reasonable. "Oh yes. Can't just drop you in fully grown—that'd be boring. You need time to adjust, to learn, to struggle." He gestured vaguely. "You know, the whole 'finding your place in the world' bit. Builds character."
Loki clapped his hands again. "Now then! We could stand here and chat all day, but I have things to do, people to trick, chaos to sow. And you—" he flicked his fingers, and the space beneath my feet shifted— "have a world to wake up in."
I barely had time to swear before everything collapsed around me.
And then—
I woke up to screaming.
It wasn't my screaming, which was good, because I wasn't entirely sure if I could scream yet. No, the noise came from somewhere nearby—a woman's voice, raw with exertion and pain. The sound shook me at a cellular level. It was real. Immediate. Terrifying.
I tried to move, but everything felt wrong. My limbs were tiny, weak—useless. Like someone had shoved my mind into a doll's body. My skin felt new. Too sensitive. Too exposed.
Cold air hit my skin, and suddenly, I realized what was happening.
Oh, hell no.
This wasn't just rebirth—this was birth.
I barely had time to internally panic before I was lifted, hands grasping me with practiced care, and a sharp smack landed on my back.
Pain. Cold. Sudden, overwhelming sensation.
And then—against every instinct of my old self—I cried.
Loki's laughter, distant and echoing, was the last thing I heard before everything faded into the chaotic blur of new life.