The world sparkled as if someone had spilled a bucket of glitter on it and turned on the "dream" filter to the maximum. The meadow where Vanya woke up was alive: flowers swayed as if dancing to an inaudible melody, birds sang arias worthy of an opera, and the air smelled of vanilla, hope and... fresh buns? He was lying on the grass - no longer just Vanya, but a man with long white hair, in a regal robe embroidered with gold, and with a face that looked like it had been carved out of marble for a museum.
Animals were bustling around. Squirrels were staring, whispering, deer were nuzzling each other, and little Bambi, standing next to his mother, timidly asked:
"Mom, who is this?"
"A man," she answered, her voice soft as a cloud.
"A man?" Bambi tilted his head, looking at Vanya. "What about him? Is he sleeping?
"Yes, my child," the mother nodded, but her eyes did not leave the strange guest.
"Why... why is it so calm next to him?" Bambi whispered, clinging to his mother. "He is... different."
"I don't know," she admitted, and there was confusion in her voice. "He is not like other people. There is something... special about him."
Their conversation was interrupted when Vanya began to stir. His eyelids trembled, he slowly rose, and then suddenly opened his eyes and mouth, as if he was about to swallow the entire clearing. The animals froze, staring at him with the same shock with which he looked at them. Silence fell, so thick that it could have been spread on bread. The squirrels froze with nuts in their paws, the deer stopped chewing the grass, and Bambi hid behind his mother, peeking out with one eye.
And then Vanya screamed:
"WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! IS THIS NOT A DREAM?! HAVE I REALLY DIED?!"
The animals ran in panic in different directions, as if they had heard a shot. The squirrels fell from the trees, the deer ran away, and Bambi and his mother ran to a safe distance, but remained standing, looking curiously from behind the bushes. The other animals followed their example, hiding in the shadows and whispering to each other like spectators at the premiere of a strange play.
Vanya jumped up, looking around as if the world around him was a giant meme that he could not comprehend. His gaze fell on his hands, and he froze. Her skin was covered in intricate tattoos that shimmered as if painted with stardust, and on her fingers were ten rings, each one shining like a miniature sun.
"WHAT THE FUCKING TATTOOS ARE THIS?!" he yelled, waving his arms as if trying to scare the tattoos away."AND THE RINGS?! WHERE FROM?! TEN?! WHAT, I HAVE TEN BRIDES?! MOM WILL KILL ME! WHAT AM I GOING TO TELL HER?! "MOM, I MARRIED TEN GIRLS IN ANOTHER WORLD, BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT"?!
He grabbed his head, and then his gaze fell on the world around him. Everything was too bright, too warm, too... vanilla. The sky shone like a smartphone screen at maximum brightness, the grass glistened as if it had been doused with shampoo, and the trees looked like they had been painted by an artist obsessed with pastel colors.
"AAAH!" Vanya closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands."WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! I'VE BEEN BLINDED! THIS IS NOT THE WORLD, THIS IS AN INSTA FILTER ON STEROIDS!"
He shook his head, and to his surprise, his vision quickly adapted. He began to see further — much further than before. In the distance, he noticed animals staring at him with curiosity, but with some strange... meaningfulness? The squirrels were exchanging glances, as if discussing him in a chat, and Bambi was whispering something to his mother, pointing his hoof in his direction.
"WHAT, DO THEY HAVE INTELLIGENCE?!" Vanya pointed his finger at the animals, as if accusing them of a conspiracy. "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY?! THIS IS ABSURD! MY BRAIN CAN'T HANDLE THIS!"
He plopped back down on the grass, trying to collect his thoughts. "God said... Disney. Disney?!" Vanya slapped his forehead, and then it dawned on him. "So this is the world of Disney?! Where are the princesses, castles, and all that saccharine crap?!"
He remembered the cartoons he watched as a child: kind princesses, singing animals, magic. But this was too much! Too real! And what was he supposed to do?! He had literally been kidnapped, stripped of his underwear, made a laughing stock, and now he was in the body of some handsome guy with tattoos and rings, in a world where everything looked like a gum commercial!
"Okay," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Let's say I'm in Disney. But what next? Where are my burgers? Where's the cola? I didn't sign up for this crap!"
He glanced at his robe, heavy, gold-embroidered, with a long train. "At least I have pants," he thought with relief, but then added: "But without burgers, it still sucks!"
Vanya stood up, looking around. The animals were still watching him, and he couldn't help but yell at them:
"WHAT ARE YOU STALKING ABOUT?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO HERE! WHERE IS MCDONALD'S?! OR AT LEAST A PIZZA PRINCESS?!"
The squirrels looked at each other as if he had said something brilliant, and Bambi whispered to his mother:
"Mom, he's really weird... But I like him."
His mother nodded, but her gaze was full of mystery. Vanya, not noticing it, rubbed his belly - a habit that remained even in his new body - and muttered:
"Okay, God, you win. I'm in your fanfic. But if there are no burgers here, I'll start a riot. And tattoos and rings won't help!"
Somewhere in the sky a light chuckle was heard, and the wind brought the aroma of fresh buns. Vanya froze, sniffed and said:
"Hey, is this a hint? Okay, old man, I'm playing by your rules for now. But burgers are sacred!"
And with this thought, he, slapping his bare feet on the grass, moved towards the forest, not suspecting that a city, a throne and a choir of singing subjects awaited him. And the animals, watching him with their eyes, whispered:
"He's definitely different.
"Yes," Bambi's mother nodded. "But something tells me that this "man" will turn our world upside down."
***
Vanya walked through the vanilla world of Disney, still stunned, as if his brain had been downloaded into a simulation created by a child with a box of markers. Nature sang around him: birds trilled, flowers bowed to him like fans at a concert, and the air was so sweet that Vanya suspected you could spread it on toast. But the further he walked, the more he began to be bothered by... something. Voices. Not one, not two, but a whole crowd, as if a chat room with a hundred participants had opened in his head, and they were all screaming at once.
"Oh, here we go," he thought, clutching his head. " I have schizophrenia! At my age! I haven't kissed, haven't fallen in love, and I'm already hearing voices! And with these tattoos and rings, I'm probably married to ten chicks! Mom will kill me!"
But then the voices began to speak more clearly, and one of them, deep and slightly mocking, said:
" Calm down, Vanya. You're not crazy. We are the Demons of Goetia, your faithful servants. Just breathe, man, you're winding yourself up."
Vanya froze, his eyes widened like saucers.
"DEMONS?!" he yelled, waving his arms as if shooing away flies. "What the hell, demons?! I was in my world, eating burgers, scratching my belly, and now you're in my head?! What are you, spam from hell?! Get out of here, I don't fall for that shit!"
The demons seemed offended. One of them, with a squeaky female voice reminiscent of an anime heroine, squealed:
"Are you fucking nuts, Vanya! Ignoring me, Gremory, the great and beautiful?! By the way, I'm a tsundere from God, and you dare not pay attention to me?! Now look in my direction, or I'll give you hell in your head!"
"WHAT?!"Vanya tripped in shock, his foot caught on a root, and before he could figure it out, he rolled down the slope like a burger that fell out of its packaging. "AAAH! WHAT KIND OF TSUNDERE DEMON IS THIS?! I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS!"
With a scream, he splashed into the lake, raising a fountain of spray. When he emerged, he spat out water, and also a small fish, which snorted indignantly, looked at him as if he were a pervert, and, flapping its fins, swam away into the depths, as if to say: "Lustful little man, get out of my house!"
"FUCK, WHAT WAS THAT?!" Vanya yelled, sitting waist-deep in water, with a wet braid stuck to his face. "A FISH OFFENDED ME?! IS THIS DISNEY OR A MADHOUSE?!"
He looked into the water and froze. It wasn't Vanya looking back at him from the reflection, but some handsome guy with long white hair braided into a braid and eyes shining like an anime hero's. His robe, though wet, looked like it was made for an elf king.
"Hey, dude!" Vanya pointed at the reflection. "Who are you?! Help me out of this shit, huh? I don't know where I am, but this is definitely not where I belong!"
The reflection was silent. Vanya frowned and looked around - no one. Only water and curious squirrels, who had already crawled to the shore, whispering.
"What the..." he began, but then the demons in his head slapped themselves on the forehead (or whatever they had instead of foreheads) and screamed in unison:
"IT'S YOU, IDIOT! THIS IS YOUR REFLECTION!"
Vanya froze, slowly turned to the water and stared at himself again. His jaw dropped.
"NOOOOO!" he screamed, clutching his head. "I CAN'T BE THAT HANDSOME! THAT'S NOT ME! I'M A REGULAR GUY WITH A BELLY AND BURGER CRUMBS! IF I'M LIKE THIS NOW, THEN THE PRINCESSES ARE MINE! A HAREM OF A THOUSAND BEAUTIES, WOW!"
He paused for a second, imagining a crowd of princesses lining up, but their emotional problems and everything related to the harem. He immediately waved it off:
"No, that's nonsense. Scratching your belly and eating burgers is more important. A harem is too much work."
The demons in his head came to life. Gremory giggled:
"What if the beauties bring you burgers? And cola? And scratch your belly while you read fan fiction?"
Vanya's brain hung in the air. A lightbulb literally lit up above his head, then fell on top of him, broke into shining particles and evaporated. The demons burst out laughing.
"Ha-ha, you're such a fool!" one of them muttered, with a bass voice. "But funny. We're staying with you, man. It'll be fun!"
"WHAT?!" Vanya jumped up, splashing water. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD! I NEED TO GO HOME! I HAVE TESTS, BY THE WAY! GUYS, IT'S NOT COOL TO SKIPP!"
Gremory chuckled, her voice becoming sarcastic:
"Tests? Seriously? You're in another world, genius. There's no homework. No studying. Just magic, princesses, and... well, you'll figure it out yourself.
Vanya froze. His eyes sparkled. He slowly raised his head to the sky and whispered:
"No... homework? No... studying?"
Tears poured from his eyes like a waterfall. He fell to his knees, spread his arms, and screamed at the whole forest:
"LIFE IS WONDERFUL! THIS IS PARADISE! MORE TIME FOR BURGERS, COLA, AND FANFICTION! ISSEKAI, I LOVE YOU!"
But the demons looked at each other (how they did it in his head, Vanya didn't know) and said in unison:
"Uh, kid, there's one problem. There are no burgers here. And you don't have a home either."
Vanya froze. His face turned pale. He fell back into the water, sending up another spray, and screamed so loudly that the forest echoed:
" WHAT?! NO BURGERS?! NO HOME?! DON'T CUT IT, THIS IS HELL! I CURSE THIS WORLD! I CURSE GOD! I CURSE EVERYTHING!"
His scream was so loud and so full of pain that the sky darkened and it began to rain. Somewhere nearby, in a small village, the villagers heard his scream. Their hearts sank with sympathy, but the rain pouring from the sky made them happy. "The drought is over!" they screamed, dancing in the downpour. But looking towards the forest, they whispered:
"That voice... it hurts so much. Who is it?"
The village elder raised his hands to the sky and said:
"We do not know you, oh suffering one, but we pray for you. May your heart find peace."
And Vanya, sitting in the lake, wet, with his braid stuck to his face, and with demons laughing in his head, muttered:
"Peace? I need a burger, not peace! God, if you are listening, I will find you and make you open a McDonald's in this vanilla hell!"
Gremory giggled:
"Oh, this will be fun. Let's go, Vanya, let's find you a throne. Or at least a bun.
And with these words, Vanya, grumbling and scratching his belly under his robe, trudged on, unaware that the village was already preparing to greet him as a savior. And the demons in his head whispered:
"He is either a genius or a complete idiot."
"Both," Gremory chuckled. "But I'm already in business."
***
Vanya walked through the forest, still trying to digest the fact that he was in someone else's body in a world where even the grass looked like it had been combed before filming. The demons in his head continued to crackle like a radio with poor reception, and he, although skeptical of them, decided to find out who he was dealing with.
"So, you're like the Demons of Goetia, huh?" he asked, scratching his belly under his regal robe.
The chorus of voices in his head snorted in unison, and the bass demon muttered:
"Bravo, Captain Obvious! And we thought you mistook us for a choir of church singers!"
"Fuck you!" Solomon snapped, stomping through the grass. "If you're so smart, I won't have anything to do with you at all! Get out of my head, I'm sick without you!" But then a new voice pierced his mind, deep, enchanting, with such velvety grace that Solomon felt goosebumps run down his spine. It was a woman, and her words flowed like honey:
"Now, now, dear boy, don't curse like that. Relax, breathe in this sweet air... I am Sitri, and I want you to be calm."
Solomon froze, his cheeks flushed. He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment, and muttered:
"Uh... well, I'm sorry, lady. It's just... this is all too much, you know?"
Sitri giggled, her voice like the clink of crystal glasses:
"Good boy. Now listen: you are now in the body of Solomon, the great mage of Fate. We, the Demons of Goetia, are your power in this new world. Get used to it, my dear.
Solomon froze, his brain froze, and then he burst out:
"WHAT?! SOLOMON?! THAT GUY WITH THE FACE OF A BRICK AND THE EMOTIONS OF A STONE?! NOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO BE A COWARD WHO ONLY SIT AND WORD! I'D BETTER EAT BURGERS!" He paused and added: "Although... the name Solomon sounds cool. Okay, I'm Solomon now. But only because it's stylish!"
The demons in his head rolled their eyes (or whatever they had). One of them boomed:
"A kid. Just a kid. You've gotta grow up, kid."
And Gremory, the same tsundere with the squeaky voice, suddenly blushed (Solomon literally felt her blush in his mind) and blurted out:
"Hey, if you grow up and become cool, I... I might not mind becoming your wife, okay?!"
Solomon choked on air, spat to the side and blurted out:
"WHAT?! Wife?! You're probably as flat as a board!"
"WHAAAAT?! "Gremory roared so loudly that Solomon covered his ears, although the sound was in his head. Her scream was like a siren, and he felt the other demons cringe. " YOU, INSENSIBLE BLACKBOX! I GIVE YOU THIS CONFESSION, AND YOU INSULT ME?!"
"Calm her down, quickly!" the other demons screamed in panic. "She's going to fuck us all up!"
Solomon muttered, sweating:
"Okay, okay, sorry! You're not flat, you're... uh... awesome! Sorry, huh?"
Gremory sniffled, her voice quieter:
"Okay... I forgive you. But you'll pay for it, you blockhead!"
Solomon wiped the sweat from his forehead and muttered:
"My life is a comedy mixed with a circus. Is that normal?"
The demons answered in unison:
"Isn't that how it's supposed to be?"
"Go to hell!" he waved it off and, realizing that he was now Solomon in the Disney world, decided: "Okay, I'll take a walk, unwind. Maybe I'll find a village, get some burgers."
He walked, admiring the scenery, until he came across a strange scene. There was a crowd of people in the clearing - about ten of them, with dirty clothes, crooked grins and knives in their belts. Bandits, one hundred percent! In the center stood a girl with a basket, her face a mixture of embarrassment and fear. She pressed the basket to her chest, and the bandits muttered something, clearly not intending to be nice. Solomon grinned in his head: "Oh, isekai cliche! The hero saves the girl, everyone applauds, profit!" He quickly sprayed imaginary saliva on his fingers (after all, Disney magic requires style), smoothed his hair, straightened his shoulders and, radiating the charisma of his regal ass, stepped forward. His robe fluttered, his eyes shone with wisdom (or panic, who knows), and he said:
"Hey, gentlemen, what's all that noise? Isn't it time to go home?"
The bandits and the girl turned around. Their jaws dropped. They stared at Solomon as if a god had appeared before them. His confidence, his grace, his... tattoos and rings? Everything screamed of greatness that their brains couldn't comprehend. The girl covered her mouth with her hand, the bandits froze, even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
But in Solomon's head, hell was unfolding. "DAMN IT! I'M IN TROUBLE!" he screamed mentally. "I'm in Solomon's body, but I don't know magic! I can't fight! They're going to beat me now, and I won't even have time to run away!" He turned to the demons: "Hey, help me, you're my "servants"! Give me a spell or something!"
Sitri yawned lazily:
"Oh, honey, you handle it yourself. We're just giving advice here."
"YOU DID THROW ME AWAY?!" he screamed in his head, sweating buckets. "I CURSE YOU ALL!"
The bandits had surrounded him in the meantime, and Solomon was already preparing for the worst. He cringed, expecting a blow, but... nothing happened. Instead, the bandits suddenly started... smiling? One of them, with a beard like a pirate, slapped him on the shoulder and shouted joyfully:
"Bro, are you lost? Let's help! Where are you going?"
The other one, with crooked teeth, began to shake off his robe:
"Oh, you're covered in dust! We'll fix it now, you're obviously an important person!"
The third one took out a couple of gold coins and thrust them at Solomon:
"Take these, brother, for the journey! Or maybe you'll spend the night with us? Everything included, food, drinks!"
Solomon stood like a statue, his eyes the size of saucers. "WHAT THE SHIT?!" he was screaming in his head. The girl ran up, blushing like a tomato, and timidly said:
"Sir, you must be tired from the journey! Let me take you to the village, where they'll feed you and... and all that!"
The bandits, as one, nodded, grabbed him by the arms and dragged him towards the village, vying with each other to offer food, then a place to stay, then something else. Solomon, still in a daze, trailed after them, and one thought was spinning in his head:
"Is this how Disney works?! I just went out, and they're already giving me money and inviting me over?! WHAT THE HELL?!"
Gremory giggled in his head:
"Well, you're Solomon. The charisma of your ass is magic stronger than our spells."
Sitri added, purring:
"Relax, darling. This is just the beginning. The village awaits its king."
Solomon, sweating and looking back at the happy bandits and the embarrassed girl, muttered:
"A king? I just wanted a burger... Why is everything so weird?!"
And somewhere in the sky, God chuckled and said:
"Welcome to my fanfic, kid. Now hold on."
***
Solomon was still in a complete daze, his mind floundering in a chaotic whirlpool of thoughts, trying to grasp at least some thread of logic. But logic seemed to have long since fled this world, leaving him alone with a mad carnival of events. He did not even notice how he was being carried - the strong, as if carved from granite, arms of the bandits, who until recently seemed like ordinary thugs, now pulsated with inhuman strength. Their muscles, bulging from under tight black suits, shone like those of bodybuilders at the world championship, and dark glasses made them look like either superheroes from comic books or parody villains from a cheap action movie. Solomon, immersed in his thoughts, did not realize how long they were dragging him, until suddenly a familiar melody hit his eardrums.
This music… It was so familiar, yet distant, like a childhood memory you can't quite place, but it gives you goosebumps. Solomon's eyes snapped open and he froze. He was being carried in something that looked suspiciously like… a coffin?! Yes, it was a real coffin – polished, black, with gold handles, in which he was lying, his arms folded across his chest, like some dead man at a funeral! He jumped up in shock, almost knocking over the coffin, and stared at the bandits. They, without taking off their black glasses, continued to march as if nothing strange was happening. Their faces were impenetrable, but Solomon was ready to swear that they were grinning behind the glasses.
"WHAT IS THIS, MY FUNERAL?!" he screamed, his voice breaking from panic and the absurdity of the situation. "ARE YOU TRYING TO BURY ME ALIVE?!"
The bandits didn't answer. Instead, the coffin suddenly began to rock from side to side, like a boat in a storm. Solomon grabbed the edges, trying to hold on, and only then noticed that these thugs weren't just carrying him — they were DANCING! Dancing to that stupid melody that he finally recognized — it was that same meme track that once blew up the Internet! The coffin rocked to the rhythm, the bandits stamped their feet, their pumped-up bodies moving with a grace that professional dancers would envy. One of them even did a pirouette without letting go of the coffin handle.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Solomon screamed, no longer knowing whether to scream or laugh. "WHAT IS THIS, A COFFIN DANCE?! YOU THOUGHT TO TURN ME INTO A MEME?!"
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, a laugh was heard. It was the demons - the same ones that seemed to be orchestrating this madness. They laughed so loudly that it seemed their voices echoed in Solomon's skull.
"Oh, I can't! "one of the demons squeezed out, choking with laughter. "Look at his face! He actually thinks this is the end!"
"He's the star of the show! "another one chimed in, crunching something suspiciously like popcorn. "Come on, Solomon, burn it! Show them how it's done!"
Solomon, unable to bear it, fell back into the coffin, covered his face with his hands and began to pray. Not to God, no - he was no longer sure that God had anything to do with this circus at all. He prayed for this absurdity to just end. For the music to stop, for the coffin to stop rocking, for these pumped-up idiots to stop dancing. And, lo and behold, the music did stop. The silence came so suddenly that Solomon didn't even dare open his eyes right away.
He carefully raised himself up, still expecting some kind of catch. And then the light fell on him. Bright, blinding, as if the sun itself had decided to focus all its rays on him alone. He closed his eyes, but the light did not retreat, enveloping him, as if emphasizing his greatness. And then - oh no, not that! - new music began to play. The same one from The Lion King, when Rafiki lifts Simba over the cliff to show him off to the world. Solomon opened his eyes and almost choked with amazement.
He was standing on some kind of dais, and around him were crowds of people, animals, birds, even, hell, butterflies! They all looked at him with such awe, as if he were not just Solomon, but some kind of deity descended from the heavens. People fell to their knees, animals bowed their heads, and somewhere in the distance even an elephant trumpeted, as if saluting. Solomon froze, his face as still as a statue, but inside his mind was screaming, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"Oh, Great One!" someone in the crowd shouted, and dozens of others took up the voice. "Bless us! Make us prosper!"
"Save our souls!" a woman screamed, wiping tears from her face.
"Make my harvest better than my neighbor's!" an old man screamed, shaking his fist.
Solomon slowly raised his hands, not because he wanted to, but because his body seemed to know what to do. He raised his hands to the sky, and the crowd gasped as if he had just performed a miracle. The light grew even brighter, the grass beneath their feet turned green with some unnatural speed, and somewhere in the distance, it seemed, even a whole forest grew in a second. People were crying, hugging, and the bandits - the same ones who had recently been dancing with the coffin - were now standing to the side, wiping away their tears with huge white handkerchiefs.
"He... he's the chosen one!" one of them sobbed, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. "I always knew he was special!"
"Grab the camera, shoot!" another hissed, frantically adjusting his phone. "This will be the virality of the century!"
Solomon, standing in that radiance, suddenly felt his lips stretch into a smile. He looked at the sky, at the crowd, at this absurd world that seemed determined to make him its king. And then he did it. Slowly, with theatrical solemnity, he raised both hands higher and showed the middle finger. Not to God alone, but to the whole sky, the whole world, all this madness.
"Go to hell," he muttered, but his voice was full of some strange, almost divine confidence. "And you, up there, too!"
And, lo and behold, the world liked it! The sky became even brighter, the grass even greener, and the harvest seemed to spring up right from under people's feet, as if in slow motion. The crowd roared with delight, people began to bow even lower, some even tried to kiss the ground at his feet. The bandits were crying, hugging each other, and one of them, unable to bear it, began to film a live video, commenting: "This is him! This is our king! Subscribe, like, this is a historic moment!"
At this time, the demons in Solomon's head were literally rolling on the floor laughing. One of them, choking on popcorn, squeezed out:
"Well, this guy is a genius! Middle finger to God, and the world becomes heaven! This needs to be recorded!"
"Yes, he was born for this!" the other one picked up, clapping his hands. "He doesn't just rule, he trolls reality itself!"
Solomon stood, surrounded by light, worshiping people and this absurd magnificence. His mind was still screaming that this was nonsense, that he wanted to go home, that this couldn't be true. But somewhere deep inside, he began to suspect that maybe this crazy world was exactly where he was supposed to be.
***
Solomon, still breathing heavily from the madness he had experienced, climbed out of the coffin, which, as if obeying the laws of this absurd world, immediately dissolved into the air, scattering into myriads of sparkling particles. He froze, looking at this spectacle, and took a deep breath, trying to gather the remains of his sanity. Children suddenly began to spin around him - their ringing, infectious laughter echoed in the air, filling the space with bright, almost tangible emotions. They ran, jumped, giggled, their eyes shone with genuine joy, and Solomon, without expecting it, felt the corners of his lips involuntarily rise in a smile. Was it... nice? Yes, damn it, it was nice! To see how these little devils rejoice, as if he were their hero, their savior, their... king?
But this warm thought was immediately interrupted by a malicious snort in his head. The demons, of course, could not resist.
"Well, look at him, our hero!" one of them giggled. "Already melting from children's smiles, huh?"
"Shut up!" Solomon mentally roared, clenching his fists. "Don't you dare rub it in here, traitors! You yourselves arranged this circus!"
"Oh-oh-oh, what an offended girl!" Gremory sang, her voice saturated with caustic mockery. "What, Solomon, can't you handle a couple of kids and our show?"
Solomon gritted his teeth, his patience was bursting at the seams.
"Come out here, Gremory!" he mentally growled. "Say it to my face, if you're not a coward!"
"With pleasure!" she replied, and at that moment the world shook slightly, as if someone had shaken reality like a snow globe. No one around him seemed to notice, but Solomon froze, blinking. Before him stood a girl, about ten years old, with fiery red hair braided into two pigtails and a look of such self-assured pomposity that any king would envy her grace. She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him, though she was barely above his knee.
"You?"Solomon slapped his forehead with his palm, almost groaning. "Seriously, Gremory? You're a child?! Now it all becomes clear!"
"I AM NOT A CHILD!" - she shrieked, stamping her foot so hard that the ground beneath her cracked."I'm millions of years older than you, pathetic mortal! And smarter, by the way!"
"Well, well, of course, I believe you," Solomon waved his hand sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Go play in the sandbox, you "ancient" one."
Gremory, clearly not going to tolerate such disdain, rushed at him with an offended scream. Before Solomon could react, she sank her teeth into his hand like a small but very vicious terrier.
"OUCH!" he yelled, trying to pry her off. "You're crazy! Let go, you little psychopath!"
But Gremory only bit harder, making some inhuman sounds. The villagers gathered around, instead of helping, began to... cheer?! They sat on the grass as if in the stands, munching popcorn and washing it down with cola, as if this was the best show of their lives.
"Come on, Solomon, show her!" one shouted.
"Don't give up, king!" another picked up, waving an ear of corn.
Solomon, still trying to tear Gremory away from his hand, suddenly noticed a bottle of cola in the hands of one of the spectators. Cold, sweaty, inviting. His throat was dry, and the thirst became almost unbearable.
"Hey, man!" he shouted, pointing at the farmer with the cola. "Give me a sip, will you? Seriously, I'm fighting here!"
The farmer, an old man with a wrinkled face and a straw hat, looked at the bottle, then at Solomon, and his eyes filled with tragedy.
"This… this is my only treasure," he muttered, clutching the cola to his chest. "All I have. I can't…"
"WHAT'S THE MEANING?!" Solomon roared, forgetting about Gremory for a second. "You're sparing your king a sip of cola?! I'm putting up with this circus for all of you!"
The farmer shrugged, looking at him with some kind of philosophical calm.
"You never called yourself our king," he said. "Name yourself, prove it, and the cola is yours."
Solomon stared at the bottle. It shone in the sunlight like the Holy Grail, like water in the desert, like the meaning of life. He was almost ready to agree to rule this crazy people for the sake of one sip, but then Gremory bit him even harder, and the pain brought him back to reality.
"Oh, damn you!" he growled, losing his patience. Grabbing Gremory by the scruff of the neck, he swung his arm without thinking twice and kicked her so hard that she shot up into the sky like a rocket. Her red pigtails fluttered, and her indignant cry echoed around the area. She flew off into the sunset, leaving behind only a slight glow, like a shooting star. Solomon, putting his hand over his eyes to protect himself from the sun, watched her go and nodded in satisfaction.
"Serves you right, little one," he muttered.
He turned back to the farmer, ready to continue the argument over the cola, but... the world had changed. The crowd, the children, the popcorn, the farmer with his precious bottle - all disappeared. The people around him looked at him with confusion, as if he had just appeared out of nowhere. Solomon frantically looked around, trying to find at least someone familiar.
"Where's the farmer?!" he shouted, grabbing the nearest man by the shirt. "Where's that man with the cola?!"
"What farmer?" he asked in surprise, shrugging his shoulders. "There was no one here."
"How could there not have been?!" Solomon fell to his knees, slammed his fist on the ground, and screamed, raising his head to the sky. "GOD, YOU ARE THE MOST TERRIBLE CREATURE! WHY HAVE I DONE THIS?! GIVE ME BACK THE COLA!"
His voice was shaking, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he no longer knew whether he was crying because of the cola, because of Gremory, or because this world had finally driven him crazy. But the people around him, as always, took it all in their own way. They saw in his screams and tears not despair, but... a prayer? A tribute of respect? Worship of God?
"He's praying!" — gasped a woman, falling to her knees. "He pays tribute to the heavens! "
"A true leader! " picked up another, also falling to the ground. "We must follow him! "
And so, one by one, the people began to fall to their knees, repeating Solomon's gesture. They hit the ground, cried, offered up prayers, and soon the entire meadow turned into a chorus of sobs and cries. Someone even began to sing psalms, although the melody was suspiciously reminiscent of yesterday's meme track. Solomon, still kneeling, looked at this madness and felt his mind finally give in.
"Are you... are you serious? " he muttered, wiping away tears. "I just wanted a cola... "
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, the demons burst into laughter again.
"Oh, I can't!" one choked with laughter. "He is their spiritual leader now!"
"He's a genius of the absurd!" another one picked up. "Gremory, did you see that? He launched you into space!"
Solomon slowly rose, looking at the crying and praying crowd. His face was a mixture of fatigue, irritation and some strange, almost manic joy.
***
Solomon brushed the dust off his clothes, trying to regain some dignity after all these absurd events. He glanced around at the crowd still surrounding him and felt his stomach rumble loudly, almost theatrically. Solomon's face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but he quickly pulled himself together, straightening his shoulders and pretending that nothing had happened. However, the villagers, as if programmed to his slightest signals, immediately began to fuss.
"The king is hungry!" one woman exclaimed, theatrically pressing her hands to her chest. "Bring food! Quickly!"
"Yes, yes, the best we have!" another one chimed in, already dragging a basket of bread.
Solomon blinked, trying to object, but did not have time. The world around him blurred for a split second, as if someone had switched the channel of reality, and now he was sitting at a huge, endlessly long table, covered with delicacies that would make any gourmet's head spin. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened - the table was groaning with roast pheasants, golden-crusted pies, fruits that looked like they had just been picked from the tree of paradise, and jugs of wine that glistened in the sunlight.
"This... what?" he muttered, looking around in bewilderment.
The table was set horizontally on the ground, which confused him a little - who did that? There were people sitting around, and judging by their important poses and pretentious outfits, those opposite and to the sides were some kind of local bigwigs. Solomon, without thinking much, plopped down on the nearest chair and, tempted, grabbed a piece of pie. The food was… divine. He didn't even notice how his hand reached for his glass of wine, and he took a large sip, savoring the tart taste.
"Oh, now I understand," he breathed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe this world isn't so bad after all…"
A guy approached him then – thin, with deft movements and a smile that seemed both friendly and suspiciously cunning.
"Great, would you like a massage?"he suggested, rubbing his hands."After such a day, you definitely need to relax."
Solomon, already slightly languid from the wine, shrugged.
"Oh, go ahead," he agreed lazily.
The massage was surprisingly good. The guy knew his business: his fingers kneaded Solomon's shoulders with such skill that he almost purred with pleasure. Having finished, Solomon turned to him, narrowing his eyes.
"Listen, who are you anyway?"he asked.
"My name is Judas, " the guy answered, bowing slightly, but with the same sly smile.
"Judas, then,"Solomon chuckled, not attaching any importance to this. - Well, a normal name, what."
He returned to the wine, took a couple more sips, and the world around him began to seem even more rosy. But then his gaze accidentally fell on Judas, who had stepped aside and started whispering to some guys in armor. Their faces were stern, their swords were shining on their belts, and Judas, pointing his finger at Solomon, was explaining something to them heatedly. The guards nodded, and then one of them took out a small bag and counted out to Judas... 30 silver coins.
Solomon froze. The wine he had just swallowed suddenly got stuck in his throat. He coughed, spat the rest out on the table and jumped up, his eyes wide-o-o, damn it, what, they wanted to make him the new Jesus in some Disney nightmare?!
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" he yelled, throwing the glass on the table. "DID YOU SELL ME FOR 30 SILVER COINS?!" ARE YOU GOING TO NAIL ME TO THE CROSS?!
The crowd around froze. People looked at each other, not understanding what was happening. And Solomon, without wasting a second, jumped over the table, almost knocking over the plate of roast duck, and ran away. His heels were sparkling, sweat was pouring down, and his heart was pounding as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. He ran as if his life depended on it - and, damn it, maybe it did!
The villagers, seeing their "king" fleeing, began to wail.
"He's leaving!" a woman screamed, waving her handkerchief. "Our savior is leaving us!"
"We must bring him back!" another shouted, already gathering a crowd. "Follow him, brothers!"
But then an old man with a long beard stopped them, raising his hand.
"Give the king time," he said wisely, although sparks of mirth danced in his eyes. "He will return when he is ready. In the meantime... follow him. Unnoticed."
In the meantime, Solomon, panting and sweating, finally stopped, leaning against a tree. His chest was heaving, and his mind was in complete chaos.
"Come on, guys, that's enough!" he croaked, addressing the demons in his head. "What the hell is going on here?!" I almost got sold for 30 silver and nailed to a cross! I DON'T AGREE! Who would sign up for something like that?!
Gremory, as always, didn't miss the chance to poke fun.
"Oh, come on," she giggled. "The martyr image would suit you. The crown of thorns, the cross, dramatic music - just your style!"
"Shut up, you little psychopath!" Solomon barked, cursing her with every word he knew. All he got in response was her mocking laughter and a promise that this was just the beginning.
"Fuck you all!" he muttered, waving away the voices in his head. "I'll show you a 'martyr'!"
He looked around, trying to figure out where he had ended up. A forest, fields, and in the distance, some city full of noise and bustle. Solomon grimaced.
"Oh, fuck," he muttered, turning his back on the city. "They'll make me perform in the circus, too."
His gaze fell on an overgrown clearing nearby - quiet, secluded, perfect. He walked resolutely there, plopped down on the grass and crossed his arms.
"That's enough," he declared, addressing either the world or himself. "Until I figure out what the hell is going on here, I'm not going to take another step. I'm going to sit here, tinker with magic, build a tower like those crazy old wizards. Because, damn, how else am I going to find peace in this madhouse?!
He lay on his back, looking up at the sky, and suddenly realized why all those magicians in fairy tales locked themselves in their towers. This world is one big troll.