Staring at the three figures kneeling in front of me with a fourth looming behind them, I can't help but ugh as I think about how I got into this mess in the first pce. Just a short hour previously, I had handed in my two-weeks notice to my boss, who was particurly unhappy about his best employee finally growing a spine and leaving. Walking out the door with my backpack, I sighed as a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Finally free of that bastard! No more double shifts! I cheered to myself, smiling slightly as I double checked that no cars were coming my way. Not even halfway across the street, I heard screams coming from behind me as I turned to look. There, not twenty feet away, was a delivery van that had decidedly not been there moments before, and it was barreling straight at me way too fast to dodge. I barely registered the shocked expression of the driver and the multicolored sparks driving away from the sides of it before it hit me. A surge of agony accompanied the crunch of breaking bones, overwhelming my body with both pain and numbness simultaneously. I could feel my skull fracture, splinters of calcified tissue shredding through my brain before everything went dark.

  Opening my eyes to a stark white room, I bolt upright with a gasp, heart pounding and eyes wild as I look around rapidly. I'm ying on the ground in front of what looks like one of those u-shaped meeting tables, with three figures chatting away on an eclectic mix of seats. The man on the far right is dressed in Roman legionary armour, polished brass gleaming in the omnidirectional light. His chair is a throne made of broken weapons fused together, a pair of plush cushions padding the seat and back as he leans onto the table. The one in the middle is a woman in flowing silks, chocote brown skin and green hair woven with flowers giving her an otherworldly beauty. Her seat is a massive beanbag chair made of woven vines and rge flower petals, and she's animatedly arguing with the third member of their strange little triad. The st one on the left is the picture of a stereotypical wizard, complete with a tall hat with a crooked tip and long schorly robes embroidered with arcane patterns. He sits at a simple wooden desk chair, the type you'd see in a cssical noble’s study. He looks mildly annoyed as he yells at the woman.

  “I don't know how else to expin this to you Friea, but you fucked up! She died, we all saw it, so why in the name of the entire pantheon is she here?!”

  Before Friea can retort, the wizard rounds on the Roman guy.

  “AND YOU! How many times must we tell you Artemer, don't teleport cars into buildings just to cause a war! If I hadn't interfered with your spell, that van would have ended up crashing straight into the Oval Office! Where the President of the United fucking States is having a meeting! Why must I be the voice of reason!” The mage cries, burying his face into his hands with a deep, drawn out sigh. Then he turns to me, his previous anger exchanged for a sheepish expression.

  “I must apologize for that dispy, young one. And you are probably incredibly disoriented right now, so I will attempt to expin.” He says, locking eyes with me. “You see, us three are gods, part of a pantheon that oversees another world. Artemer is the god of war, honorable death, and chaos. Sometimes, he leans a bit too much into that st part, such as now, and tries to start a war in your own world for some amusement.” He continues, sighing.

  “My name is Quilinarus, the god of magic and space. Please, call me Quill. In order to prevent a global war resulting in an apocalypse, I tried to interfere with his teleportation spell, and succeeded… to a point. Though it is my domain, I must admit that interfering with another god's power is difficult at best and impossible at worst. The car was dimensionally shunted to the nearest pce that the world considered ‘correct’ for it to be, which happened to be the street you were crossing. I deeply apologize for this accident, and it would have normally ended at that, with us two getting into trouble with the rest of the pantheon for meddling with another world.”

  Quill turns his gre back to Friea.

  “However, Friea is the goddess of life, growth, and healing. And upon seeing your… untimely demise, she impulsively pulled your soul to our realm and constructed a temporary form for you to inhabit.”

  My mind was reeling from the information dump I had just received, and yet I wasn't as terrified nor traumatized as I would have expected. Because I don't have a real body right now? And looking down confirms it: in pce of my body is a wooden mannequin-esq construct, cking any defining features. Quill clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Now, I would like to get this issue solved before Deras finds out-” He's interrupted by a woman's voice ringing out, husky as though just woken up.

  “Before I find out what, Little Quill?” She asks, a woman I can only assume is Deras walking out of a crack in the white surrounding us that seals a moment ter. The small glimpse of what was beyond the break was so incomprehensible that I can't find the words to describe it even to myself, beyond simply ‘infinite’. She looks at me, anger clouding her delicate features, but not at me. At the other gods. Deras slowly turns to Artemer, who leans back in his throne and looks everywhere except her eyes. Next is Friea, who is entirely unconcerned and matches her gre with one of her own. Quill flinches when she looks at him, before she turns back to me with a gentle smile.

  “I apologize for my siblings’ stupidity, allow me to introduce myself. I am Deras, goddess of death, souls, and reincarnation. When these fools interfered and caused your death, it set off numerous arms and wards I have set up for if this happens. And so here I am, and I would like to give you a choice. Your first option: enter the cycle of reincarnation on your own world, becoming essentially a new person entirely. I would make a few small blessings for you, so that you will live a new, long and healthy life.” Deras pauses to let it sink in, continuing at my nod.

  “Or, I can reincarnate you into a new body in our own world, which is simir to the fantasy worlds seen in your own culture. There is magic and miracles, yes, however it is also significantly more dangerous than your world.”

  I nod again, staring off into the void as I contempte the choices. A safe, stable life in my own world of war and corruption, or a more exciting, possibly short life in a world where getting stabbed in a back alley is the least of my worries. Not really much of a choice, now is it? I turn to Deras, smiling with my probably non-existent face before nodding. She seems to understand the nonverbal que, nodding in return while turning to Friea.

  “You brought her here, and now you will help in her reincarnation, now won't you?” Deras says, smiling in a way that makes Friea cringe in fear before nodding rapidly.

  “Of course! I'll help construct her new body.” She says hurriedly, looking to me. “Simply think about what you want, and then try to push those thoughts to me and I'll create your new form.”

  I nod, envisioning what I want. Something not human, but also not one of the vanil fantasy creatures like elves and dwarves. I want something unique, but not quite monstrous. And since I intend to make the most out of this new life, how about I have the best of both worlds with both a cock and pussy? At this part, Friea blushes slightly before continuing to construct the body, hiding it within a glowing shell to protect ‘my’ modesty.

  Let's see… for breasts, let's go with good old double D's. Large enough to be fun, but not rge enough to give me back pain. Her blush grows darker as prismatic sparks drift from her hands into the body, and the silhouette shifts a bit, though the details and exact proportions are concealed. As for the cock… well, bigger is better, but I'll let you decide on specifics since I don't know anything about people in this world. She smirks slightly even as her blush grows even more, turning her warm brown skin almost bck as red spreads across her cheeks. After another few minutes of magical haggling, my new body is complete and fitted with a temporary robe of light. The mannequin I currently inhabit breaks apart into dust and flows into my new chest, my vision turning dark for a single moment before my eyes open and sensation returns.

  I stretch fresh limbs, feeling corded muscles tense beneath tan skin. Wide, sleek, storm gray feathered wings fan out behind me, silver-blue reptilian tail flicking as I get used to moving all three new attachments. It's surprisingly easy to do, since it feels like I've always had them. Blinking at the suddenly increased brightness, I realize that I can probably see in the dark now. The new addition between my legs went ignored for now, there's plenty of time to explore the other changes ter. I grin as I flex my hands, working the stiffness out of new tendons and ligaments.

  “Now that you have a true body, let’s get to the fun part. I grant you my blessing. By my decree, your mind shall always be your own, and magics of the soul will find no purchase.”

  Deras says, bck cloak swaying slightly as a cold breeze like the breath of a phantom sweeps throughout the otherwise still void. I bow slightly in thanks, unable to speak due to the unfamiliar tongue I now have. Deras snaps, and all three other gods appear in front of her before being forced to their knees by a wave of pressure.

  “Now, my dear siblings. I believe you three have something to say, hmm?” She says, smiling evilly as the others shiver at her tone. Artemer speaks first, voice trembling only slightly as his older sister looms behind him.

  “I grant you my blessing as penance for my mistake. By my decree, your skin will be as iron and your endurance as boundless as the sea.” This time, a warm summer wind with the scent of copper gusts through the area.

  Quill is next, the words managing to sound not forced as he gives his blessing.

  “I grant you my blessing in apology for your demise. By my decree, your mana will move as your own flesh and secrets shall reveal themselves to your eyes.” A soft breeze whispering of hidden things flowed past.

  And finally, it’s Friea’s turn. She smiles, seemingly excited to empower me further.

  “I grant you my blessing as recompense for my hasty actions. By my decree, your flesh shall always remember its shape and no sustenance shall go to waste.” She intones with a smirk, a warm breeze that smells of water and greenery blowing into the void. Her voice whispers in my mind: And a little extra skill I think you’ll enjoy.

  I bow to each of them as I feel the blessings take hold, a rush of strength and knowledge flooding me before fading into the background. Deras smiles warmly as she begins to weave glowing runes into the air in front of her. Even just trying to look too closely at the script causes a headache to build, so I look away as she begins to speak again.

  “Now, I'm going to put you in a pce that is away from civilization so that you have time to get acquainted with the world. Do note that there are pces that are… less than welcoming of non-human races, but they are a small minority. You should have no trouble with them. Good luck, young one, and may your story have a happy ending.”

  Before I can comment on it at all, the dense magic circle fres with an eerie purple light and my vision turns white.