Deity Ascension

Have you ever poured your soul into something?

Years of your life, sacrificed. Relationships withered. Nights spent convincing yourself it was all worth it in the end.

Nuriel was one such man.

He had spent decades developing the Scepter System, a project who's goal was to connect the entire human race in a space beyond the physical realm.

He had unveiled it before the company's boardroom.

Was bathed in applause and camera flashes. 

The patent was his. 

And the wealth... Holy cow.

And now, he was alone. Reclining in a self-flying jet, swirling a glass of ancient wine in one hand, and holding the Scepter, a small cube that fit into his closed fist, pulsing faintly with light like it was alive.

He allowed himself to dream of what came next. A future shaped by his genius.

But of course, he hadn't done it alone. However, in a world driven by capital, those who shared too much sank. He had climbed the ladder and made sure no one else had a hand on the rung.

The entire bottle of wine was his.

In fact, Money CAN! buy happiness.

and if you weren't happy, Its still better to cry inside a billion dollar yacht than to die happily in the streets.

Ring ring.

A voice call blinked onto his panel.

It was her, his lead assistant. The only one who had come close to matching his obsession. The second most important name behind the Scepter.

Maybe, for once, he'd share a toast.

He tapped the screen. "What is it?"

Her voice came through, soft and distant.

"Congratulations, Nuriel. And goodbye."

He blinked. The Scepter shifted in his grip, a faint hum vibrating up his wrist as unease crept into his soul.

"Right... Surely you're not quitting the team, are you? We still have more to—

"Look out your window."

His fingers clamped tighter around the Scepter. Its glow intensified, a sickly blue pressing against his skin.

Have you ever poured your soul into something?

Nuriel did.

And he was betrayed.

He turned toward the small window.

In the distance, a bright orange flare was racing toward him, leaving a trail of smoke across the clouds.

'A missile'

"you..." he muttered under his breath.

And then the sky burned.

***

"Bleeerghhh…"

Falling to his knees, Nuriel let out a horrific substance from his mouth before covering it with his hands. Without thinking, he rushed toward the bathroom, leaving a trail of mysterious liquid leaking through his fingers.

"Hmmp…"

The sound of streaming water reverberated throughout the room, accompanied by a symphony of grunts and induced vomiting.

For a moment, he felt like the world had flipped upside down as his vision turned blurry and dizzy. Soon after, the toilet water was being painted with streaks of blood and snot from his nose.

Thud

Collapsing on the bathroom floor, his mind began to race. The sense of being and individuality he once had was being ripped apart and stitched back together again and again.

He was engaged in a brutal battle inside his mind. One moment, it was pitch black, the next, he returned to the waking world, only to be dragged back into darkness.

. . .

A weak sigh escaped his lips. Aside from the splitting migraine that could kill anyone, the battle inside his head had quieted into a strange stillness.

He looked up at the ceiling. It felt unfamiliar, yet oddly right to him.

'Looks like it worked.'

The escape plan involved transferring his entire consciousness into the cloud via the Scepter System. Although the lack of wired infrastructure to aid the transfer and reduce latency was a gamble on his life, it was a miracle that not only did his mind survive, but somehow transmigrated into an unfortunate host to harbor his identity.

Pushing himself up for a better view of his surroundings, a strange duality of memory flooded his nerves and senses.

Pristine wooden furniture. No digital tech. A small apartment, just enough for one person.

As he walked through the room, something crinkled beneath his foot. He looked down and saw a newspaper — something he must have overlooked during his episode.

//Civil unrest and protests plague the Capital!

//Anti-war shipwrights strike at the Bose Northern Harbor. New Dreadnought-class warship delayed another year?

//New semester at Owhen University starts in just 1 week!

Nuriel squinted at the headlines, then rubbed his temples as another mild ache flared through his skull.

He slumped into a chair beside the balcony, then stared at the ceiling, allowing new memories to flow through him.

He read the last headline again.

'this body found a suitable job. As a... librarian?'

Nuriel dropped his head down again and chuckled. This body was educated early as a child, he could've easily gone through and risen within the government. But this one chose a librarian, a job that, albeit respected, didn't lead higher into the ranks of life.

But this wasn't so bad for the new Nuriel.

Owhen was a relatively large city within the Kingdom of Bose. Its city-sponsored university was prestigious among both aristocrats and the lower class, and its massive library was nothing to scoff at.

"Perhaps I treated you too harshly" Nuriel applauded himself before freezing.

'Right. Damnit, this is so weird.'

Nuriel stared into the distance, slowly gathering what remained of his thoughts. It was like waking from a nightmare, the memory fading in a heartbeat then clawing to reassemble the fragments into a coherent story.

'that bitch...'

He shook his head before succumbing to rage. One thing came to his mind first and foremost.

'Where the hell am I?'

Leaning back, he closed his eyes and meticulously checked his new memories without regard to the host.

Putting his head forward, he rubbed his glabella out of habit. Whether it was the host's habit or Nuriel's didn't bother him that much.

'We share the same name, but his last name is Malachi. His... my sister was married off to a more powerful noble family, the house of Yuncandel, and now my position as head of the family has been taken away overnight. I've left the house, and the allowance they gave me is...'

"They think I'm some peasant!"

Slapping his face, he dropped his head to the floor. Perhaps looking at the memories of the other Nuriel was affecting him too much on a mental level.

"Eight... allied silvers... monthly."

Although he wasn't exactly familiar yet with the foreign currency, his body screamed that it was mere penny change to a noble. But his own mind told him it was a reasonable amount for a single person who did absolutely no work.

He stared at the cityscape, which stretched beyond the horizon, a single massive cathedral was present in the distance. The vibe reminded him of 19th-century France. In his previous body, he had visited it in virtual reality to escape the dystopian city he lived in. Earth wasn't the beautiful green and blue orb it once was. But seeing the city before him stirred something.

'My general knowledge of this place tells me a lot. One thing's for sure, this isn't Earth. And another'

Just in front of his balcony, he saw what seemed like a witch flying through the air on some sort of scooter. But no one other than the people stuck in traffic batted an eye as she zipped along at running speed, skipping the long line of vehicles.

It seems a primitive form of magic exists here. On Earth, you'd have been labeled a backward fool for not relying on magic for everyday life. But this is good to know.

Nuriel rubbed his chin in thought. This is a completely different planet, part of a group of others connected by ancient gates.

'Ancient gates? With that level of technology, it doesn't make sense for this world to be stuck in this era. How long has it been between transferring my consciousness and arriving here?'

Standing up, he leaned his body against the guardrails of his balcony. He eased his body and mind, ignoring the honking and distracting noise of the city below him.

Nuriel tried getting in touch with the Scepter system, calling for its presence.

. . .

Nothing answered, only the distant sound of honking and street noise greeted his ears.

A smile crept onto his face.

'Despite her greed, she cared a lot about technology. She would do everything in her power to monopolize and improve on my work.'

But the silence meant the Scepter system had failed to bloom into what he expected. Though saddened by the failure of what felt like his own child, he was pleased that it didn't benefit her.

'I need to move on. I won't even bother remembering her name anymore.'

In the bathroom, Nuriel washed himself, taking this chance to observe his new body in the mirror.

A sharp face, wavy brown hair that flowed to his neck, vibrant eyes like a perfect cut of topaz.

'You're quite the looker, Nuriel.' He admired his face, trying different angles which satisfied his taste.

Leaving the bathroom, he dressed himself and looked at the clock. It was almost evening, yet his body urged him to go out and visit the church.

'I guess visiting the church would be nice to experience the culture in person, but I'm not much of a religious man compared to this body.'

Suiting up, he made his way to the cathedral on foot.

***

In front of the cathedral was a massive plaza for parking and vendors. In the center was a magnificent sculpture, its white marble glowing an orange hue as it met the setting sun. Looking closer, Nuriel observed the fine and intricate artwork.

It depicted a woman with a witch's hat. Her dress was loose, yet it hugged her body, and you could faintly make out the curve hidden beneath the fabric. Only an artwork fueled with blood and passion could mimic such realism in a piece of carved rock.

'The Steel Witch. It is an odd name for a deity.'

Nuriel's eyes traced upward from the floor, climbing slowly until they settled on her face.

It was entrancing. Her face was filled with youth, yet it looked so mature. Her long flowing hair resembled that of a river, and her eyes were sharp, yet emitted a sense of calm and ease.

Nuriel was speechless for a moment. Seeing this in person, instead of through the memories of his body, was a different experience altogether.

'So that's the face of a god? How pretty... she looks so... like...'

He raised his eyebrows. His breathing became erratic as his pupils quaked in fear.

'That bitch!'