Kian woke up on a bed that seemed too soft to be real.

  It probably wasn’t. But he was too comfortable to care.

  There was only the question of getting up or not.

  He got up.

  Everything was white. The bed. The walls. Even he was white.

  No, not like that. His clothes were white.

  Shame on you for thinking that.

  The first thing he noticed was a very serious-looking woman. She looked like an attendant.

  Like the kind who'd absolutely stab you with etiquette.

  “Uh, excuse me, miss? Where am I? And… when can I go home?”

  He blinked. Wow, this white was really bright.

  “You are in Vhar’Serai, Master Zayar,” she replied, not even turning her head.

  Kian froze.

  “Wait—Vhar’Serai? Like, the Vhar’Serai? Seat of divinity? Home of the gods?”

  Now he was even more confused.

  “Wait!”

  He yanked up his sleeve.

  Yep. Still there. A glowing symbol, woven from silver and gold, right on his forearm.

  He squinted. Sighed.

  “So it wasn’t a dream.”

  ...Then it hit him.

  “IT WASN’T A DREAM!!”

  “Calm down, Master Zayar. The council awaits,” the attendant said, completely unfazed.

  “You must be dressed appropriately. And fed.”

  Kian blinked. Again. His brain was still buffering.

  But something in the air washed over him, something calming…

  Or maybe it was the mention of food.

  “Alright,” he muttered. “If I’m stuck here, might as well figure out what’s going on.”

  He was led through a hallway that had more glow than a star.

  Eventually, they stopped at a peaceful room with a bed, a study table, and a closet big enough to lose a dimension in.

  “You may relax here. I shall return shortly with food. Please change into the garments provided.”

  She bowed, spun on her heel, and vanished with a shh of her robe.

  A divine shower, some dangerously comfortable robes, and a plate of food that tasted like it had been kissed by the sun later…

  Kian found himself walking down the hall again.

  Only this time, they took a sharp left.

  He was sure that corner wasn’t there before.

  Magic. Rude.

  He was led into a chamber.

  A really, really big one.

  A throne room the size of a stadium, the ceiling lost in clouds.

  Seven thrones. Floating. Glowing. Overkill, really.

  Each throne had someone really powerful sitting on it.

  No—somebeing.

  Gods. He could feel it. The power coming off them was like standing too close to a bonfire on a summer day.

  He stepped in like a confused intern on his first day at a job he didn’t apply for.

  The gods watched him. Silent. Studying.

  Some looked amused. One was already smirking.

  “Uh… hi?” Kian offered.

  A few chuckled. The sound echoed like it had opinions.

  A man wearing something between paper and cotton leaned forward, eyes twinkling.

  “Look at him. The mortal with the mark.”

  Probably the god of stories. Laufeyson. Had to be.

  “What’s so special about him?” muttered another, lightning arcing across his sleeves, his hair literal fire.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Definitely the god of elements.

  “He doesn’t even bow.”

  Kian crossed his arms. “Yeah, I also don’t know why I’m here. One moment I’m getting chased by some creepy cloaked dude, next thing I know—bam—I wake up in heaven’s waiting room.”

  Then there was the one slouched with an easy smile, draped in robes that shimmered like shifting dreams.

  Kian was about 50% sure this was the god of dreams.

  “You were marked by the Spark,” Dreams said.

  Kian squinted. “Oh, so you do know about that glowy thing.”

  A woman brushed a vine-like strand of hair behind her ear.

  “It wasn’t our doing. The Spark came from the Aspects.”

  God of life. Definitely.

  “The big three?” Kian asked, blinking.

  Stars nodded — her voice deep and airy, like starlight trying to become sound.

  “Cael’ryn, Thalenyx, and Veyr’zul. They released it… to find a being of perfectly balanced karma.”

  Kian pointed at himself. “And it found me?”

  Stories burst into laughter.

  “No, no, no. It searched everywhere. Found nothing. So…”

  “It settled for the closest thing it could find,” said Emotion, smiling a little too brightly.

  “You. The one with no karma at all.”

  Kian blinked. “Like… zero? Not good, not bad?”

  “A blank slate,” whispered a skeleton.

  Didn’t even need to guess — that one was Death.

  “Which is fascinating,” Dreams added, “because that shouldn’t even be possible.”

  Kian looked at them. All seven. Floating. Ancient. Glowing with godhood and unknowable thought.

  And all he could say was—

  “So… I suppose you’re not going to let me go home.”

  Silence.

  Then, Emotion snorted.

  Dreams outright laughed.

  Even Death looked like she almost cracked a smile.

  “You can’t go home,” said Stories, warm and sharp all at once.

  “You were chosen—by the Spark, by the Aspects. Whether fate or fluke… you’re here now.”

  Kian crossed his arms. “Cool. So this is kidnapping.”

  Life smiled gently. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. You’ve been brought here for a purpose.”

  “Can I say no?”

  The gods exchanged glances.

  “…No,” said Dreams, way too helpfully.

  “Let me guess, you want me to go find some monsters, kill a big bad, and save the universe,” Kian huffed.

  “More or less,” said Stars.

  “Alright, who is it? Who’s the big bad?” Kian grumbled.

  “We… we don’t know,” said Dreams, looking embarrassed.

  Kian’s jaw dropped.

  “You’re telling me I need to save the universe from something we know nothing about?” he stared at them in disbelief.

  “Um… you see, the Aspects didn’t tell us everything,” replied Stories.

  “We were told to inform you of the universe’s call and send you on a quest to prove yourself.

  But do not worry, my child—we will not let you go unarmed,” Life assured.

  “Whatever it is, why can’t you do this yourselves? You’re undoubtedly more powerful than me,” Kian questioned.

  “My child,” said Stars gently, “a god interfering in matters of the universe would only further imbalance karma. This is why we are unable to act.”

  GREAT. JUST GREAT.

  “Like I said, my child, we will not let you go unarmed,” Life repeated.

  Stars snapped her fingers, and the room changed.

  Suddenly, he was standing on a platform, with seven pedestals in front of him. Each one held a strange, glowing item.

  “Now what,” he groaned.

  The gods appeared again—this time as blurry, floating images.

  “We bestow upon you a gift of your choosing,” smiled Stories.

  “Each gift acts as a conduit to a god, bestowing upon you a portion of their power, and linking you to them. We may not be able to act, but we can still guide.”

  Kian looked at each gift.

  Truth be told, he didn’t want to take any of them.

  He just wanted to stay as far away as possible from this whole universe-saving business.

  Honestly, a few were pretty easy to cross off the list.

  There was a bone coin. Definitely from Death.

  Nope. Not happening.

  There was also a shard of glass.

  Kian didn’t know who that belonged to, but he wasn’t about to risk getting magically stabbed.

  Then there was a flute.

  Kian didn’t know a thing about flutes—off the list.

  There was a stone.

  Kian wasn’t about to bet his life on a rock.

  The only one that looked even remotely promising was a crystal. Probably from Life.

  “I’ll take this,” Kian said, pointing at a simple-looking ring.

  He didn’t know why, but it just felt right.

  Also, everything else was either totally useless-looking or seriously sketchy.

  “You chose well, little wildcard,” came a voice—smooth and sharp, like a smile in the dark.

  “You’ve got potential. And a whole storm of feelings buried under that sarcasm.”

  The ring slipped onto his finger. It fit perfectly.

  Emotion chuckled—audibly this time, from the throne.

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  And then—

  He was falling.

  Literally.