Author's Preface
JJ dug his heels in, the non-existent floor offering zero purchase.
"Oh, hell no," he muttered, clawing at the swirling colors. "I'm not going anywhere! Wait, hold on. I didn't sign a waiver! Where's my lawyer? Is this a timeshare presentation? Because I'm not buying!"
The white void pulsed, a faint, rhythmic hum vibrating straight through JJ's teeth. Edges of reality blurred—not like a digital screen, but like gasoline swirling on puddle water, warping with every shudder. He tried to mentally force the vortex into the shape of a giant rubber duck, but that only made the colors spin faster and the suction pull harder.
No horizon. No up. No down. Just an infinite, blinding bleach-white, drenched in the sharp metallic tang of ozone after a lightning strike.
Then the figure materialized.
It flickered in erratic bursts like a dying neon sign fighting for juice. Its humanoid form rippled as if viewed through heat haze or a half-rendered PS2 mirage.
"Please, you must!" the figure pleaded, its voice strained against the vacuum. "The vortex is closing! You will be trapped!"
In the back of JJ's skull, the sins were howling with laughter.
Just go with it, they hissed. It'll be fun.
Fun? This felt like a cosmic wedgie.
The figure straightened, suddenly intoning with the synthesized, forced calmness of an elevator recording: "Greetings, traveler. You have been chosen. Selected. Destined, if you will, to embark on a grand adventure in another world."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you need me? Look, how about I just give you the reality-bending thing? Here, catch!"
JJ made a throwing motion. A distorted ripple of light flashed toward the entity—only to smack flat against an invisible barrier and freeze inches from its face.
JJ frowned. "Huh. Guess 'No-Give-Backsies' is a universal constant. Or is it 'No-Reality-Transferrals'? What's the legal keyword here?"
"We are aware of your attempts, traveler," the figure replied evenly, treating JJ's panic like a mild, predictable inconvenience. "They have proven consistently ineffective. I wasn't born yesterday. Or, in this case, whenever time happens to be. You're not the first reality bender to try pawning off their duties. And you will not be the last."
"Oh, so I'm a type now?" JJ said, voice dripping with mock offense. "Great. Do I get a laminated membership card? A secret handshake? Or at least a pamphlet on How to Avoid Saving the Universe 101?"
"This is not a matter for jest," the entity replied, its halo flickering sharply. "This world is in dire need of your unique talents. The darkness spreads. The demon lord grows stronger. You are its only hope."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." JJ inspected his fingernails. "Worlds ending, demon lords, the usual Tuesday. Can we skip the dramatic exposition and get to the part where you tell me what menial tasks I can delegate to you? Since you're so experienced and all."
"Delegation is not within my purview," the figure said flatly. "My purpose is to guide you, not to perform manual labor."
"Right, because standing around glowing is way harder than fighting a demon lord," JJ muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm sure your 'fate of worlds' routine is very important, but I've got a sentient coffee stain back home currently suffering an existential crisis about the meaning of half-and-half. Priorities, man."
"My priorities are different," the entity said, a cold edge creeping into its cadence. "I have seen what happens when the balance fails. The silence that follows echoes through eternity. I act because I must."
"And I act because if I don't, the voices won't shut up," JJ snapped, eye twitching slightly. "And fine, maybe deep down I'm curious. But mostly the voices. Still, if you change your mind about delegating chores, let me know. Could you at least scout ahead for a decent nap spot?"
"Those tasks are not within my parameters."
"Parameters, huh?" JJ tapped his chin. "Are those like cosmic employee guidelines? Do you guys have a union? Because forced interdimensional drafting violates several labor codes. Say, why don't you just tag along? You know the neighborhood."
"My presence is confined to this threshold. I cannot accompany you."
"Oh, come on, you'd make a great tour guide," JJ grinned. "We could get matching 'I Heart Demon Lords' t-shirts. You can point out where to find the best sentient cheese."
"That is not my function."
"Fine, fine," JJ sighed dramatically. "If this demon lord turns out to be a sentient tax audit, I'm demanding a full refund. And you're doing my paperwork."
JJ paused. His eyes narrowed, and he snapped his fingers.
"Wait a minute. If you can't come with me, I'll just drag you with me! I bend reality, right? Rules are suggestions."
JJ reached forward, his fingers crackling with warped, bending distortion, and yanked.
The white void twisted like wringing out a wet rag. But the entity didn't budge an inch. Instead, a wall of pure kinetic back-pressure slammed outward, throwing JJ flat on his heels.
"Your attempts to circumvent the established parameters are futile," the figure stated, its tone laced with immutable weight. "Some rules, even you cannot bend."
JJ dusted his pants off, unimpressed. He looked down and noticed a plain, jagged gray pebble sitting by his shoe.
"Alright, fine," JJ said, scooping up the rock. "If I can't take you, I'm taking this."
He held the pebble at eye level, charging it with a hum of reality-bending juice.
"Listen up, rock. Class is in session. Step one: ignore all known laws of physics. Step two: grab that glowy jerk over there and pull. Got it?"
The pebble vibrated, buzzing like an angry hornet. The bleached void warped around it, bending light into knots as the rock strained against the boundary holding the entity.
The entity pulsed once. A wave of clean white light washed over the stone.
Pop.
With a pathetic little puff of smoke, the pebble vaporized into thin air.
"I told you," the figure said, sounding thoroughly exhausted. "Some rules cannot be bent. And some objects are simply rocks."
JJ stared at the empty puff of gray smoke, clasping a hand over his chest.
"Oh, Sparky," JJ gasped, voice cracking in tragic melodrama. "You were too young! Too full of potential! You barely knew this reality before it snuffed you out! A moment of silence, please, for Sparky. The pebble who dared to dream."
He held a hand over his eyes, squeezing out a completely theatrical sniffle.
"He was more than just aggregate mineral, you know! He was a comrade! A visionary! And you... you took him from me!" JJ pointed an accusing finger at the entity. "He was going to bring you sentient cheese, you monster!"
JJ dropped his arm and blinked. "Eh, whatever. Got any more rocks? I'm on a roll."
The entity stared in silence for three full seconds. Its glow flickered in what looked remarkably like cosmic disbelief.
"Do you wish to retain the... remnants of Sparky for your journey?" the entity asked hollowly, gesturing toward the fading smoke.
"Wait, seriously?" JJ grinned. "You're gonna let me keep the ghost of a rock? Hell yeah! Sparky, buddy, we're back in business!"
The entity's radiance steadied into an aggressive hum. "Then proceed. World. Assignment. Now."
The entity reached down, snatched another random, identical chunk of gray gravel from the featureless void floor, and handed it forward with the grim ceremony of a royal knight bestowing a legendary sword.
JJ took it, squinting. "What's this?"
"A replacement," the entity droned flatly. "You may refer to it as Sparky the Second. Or simply Sparky. It is unlikely to file a formal complaint."
JJ tossed the pebble in his hand, feeling the weight, then gave a casual nod.
"Fair enough. Now, about this whole demon lord mess..."
"I'm JJ's sin, Sloth. And I'm here to tell you: inaction shouldn't be mistaken for weakness. If you make assumptions, you could easily land flat on your back."
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