Reality is a clusterfuck of failure and pain, the only reason any form of life had ever managed to form was pure coincidence mixed with a large helping of beyond divine levels of luck.
Nothing would ever be able to express how incredibly stupid the universe was than what was currently happening Infront of me, in the middle of some random road in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Australia was a crack in the fabric of reality. Constantly emitting a ripple of unraveling with each passing moment.
I looked up at the sky, taking some of the little amount of time left to wonder how I even managed to beat all the insurmountable odd that is required for me to be born and live long enough to reach this very moment. And yet somehow it wasn't even something natural that would do me in, it was some dipshit cult that had decided that humanity needed some evil dark gods as rulers.
I sigh and I reach down to the body of the cult leader and pluck my knife from his temple with a wet squelch, a quick flick removing most of the blood before I re-holster it and instead reach of the book clutched in the lunitic's cold dead hands.
I flip through it quickly, not paying any mind to the mounting migraine that the forbidden knowledge housed in the cursed book had caused. Instead I flick through it until I reach the ritual this nutcase had used to try and summon some eldritch being with.
I skim the words while absently clutching my nose as it starts bleeding along with my eyes. Not finding any reversal to the summoning I continue looking through the pages, pointedly ignoring that the crack in space was growing and that the bodes closed to the crack were starting to twitch with unlife.
Near the last page I finally find what I was looking for, a ritual that acts like a reality anchor. Normally used to stop the enemies of this particular god from breaching our world, I make some quick modifications to spell and have to hold back a sigh as I see that even with my changes it requires a sacrifice to function.
I draw my knife and slice my hand to use my own blood to start marking out the ritual circle, making sure to not let any of the cult members blood mix with my own. Even having to use my knife to carve channels into the road when their blood started flowing backwards in an attempt to mix with my own and disrupt the spell.
After half an hour of meticulous work I had finish the circle, and put down the reanimated corpses that tried to stop me and took a step back to double check.
I nodded at my work while ignoring the whispers in long dead languages that echoed in my head before I stepped past the circle and into the sacrifice module and taking a seat.
"S̷͖̬͐̊o̵̗̣̾̓r̵͚̼̀ŕ̷̗̬y̶̼̝̆ ̶͍̐̒e̴̘̎a̵͉̔r̶̜̒͝t̷̢̥̔ḧ̶̜́͛ ̴̘̔̐ḯ̶̢s̴̫̀̉n̷̨͙̕'̷̲͛t̶̼͘ ̵̧͌̈â̷̪̝c̷̩͋̐c̷̝͈̍͌e̷̘͉̍̄p̴͇̙͑t̷͙̄̀î̴̖̒n̴̛̮͘g̴̫̉̓ ̶̻͈͊v̵͈̌̔í̷̡̤š̴̢̤i̴͙͚̅̅ẗ̵̫͕̄o̷̟̩͆͋r̷̦̤̋̿s̴̘̥͐̽ ̷̩̀̚t̸͕̗̿ö̸̳̓d̸̹̈͝a̵̛̦̽ÿ̴̥́,̷̺̅̌ ̶̜̄͌ș̵̃͌o̷̹͝ ̵̳͝k̴̨̏͘í̷͎n̸͖̞̅͆d̷̪̈́̓l̶̨̼̀͝ÿ̷̲́ ̷͔̤̂f̸̛͓ṵ̵̆ĉ̴̥͙k̷̘̒ ̴̫͈͝ọ̷̓̌f̵̪͌͠f̵͓̬̽" I swallow the blood that threatens to force itself from my mouth and with a lopsided grin I plunged my knife into my own chest, the wickedly sharp blade easily piecing through flesh and bone before forcing its way through the centre of my heart.
The only sound I can hear is a deafening unholy screech of something otherworldly as the Universal barrier is supported by the reality anchor ritual and the crack starts repairing itself.
I lay back on the hot road as i feel myself reach the point of blood loss where I lose feeling in my extremities and start getting dizzy.
I stare up at the sky as I think over my life for a moment before deciding that, that's boring and instead I use what ever is left of my willpower to force my hand into my pocket and to fetch my phone before flipping it to some of my saved videos.
I grin as I watch the many many saved memes i had collected throughout my life play on my phone, hacking up some blood when a still image of a can of beans is displayed.
(Line break.)
Magic and rituals can be finicky things. Sometimes they work exactly as expected; other times, even the smallest mistake can cause a catastrophic cascade that spirals completely out of control.
A perfect example of that would be someone making last-minute adjustments to a ritual they barely understand.
The reality anchor ritual was meant to draw power from the eldritch being it was designed to repel. But because the man had altered it, the spell now sought power from him — and him alone.
That should have been impossible for a mortal to survive.
The only reason the ritual didn't immediately backfire was because something else intervened — something that quietly took the burden from his shoulders.
Something had long since taken an interest in this particular human. His dry humour and startling level of competency had first drawn its attention — but it was his deeply buried desire to help others that had convinced it to intervene.
Its formless body shifted as it cradled the dwindling soul it had plucked from the aether, limbs constantly warping into incomprehensible shapes as it repaired the damage left by the ritual.
Unfortunately, its lack of understanding of how a human soul should function meant it had to improvise — something its kind were notoriously bad at.
In desperation, it began plucking fragments of drifting souls from the void between worlds, mashing them together and weaving them into the human's essence in the blind hope of a miracle.
And a miracle is what it got, as one of the souls it had plucked from the soul stream happened to be that of a healer. This combined with the absurd amount of spiritual energy that the combining of souls had left the human with meant that their soul started healing passively.
With its human out of danger of soul degradation it the something now had to find somewhere for its human to be housed, unluckily it is very hard to find any universes that can house a being touched by the eldritch like its human had been.
It searched and searched for a world with a high enough probability filter that could at least hold back the effects while its human got properly adjusted to its new situation.
It even went so far as to ask some of its siblings where it could place its human, with equally helpful and useless answers from all of them.
It was only a faint tug in the direction of the oldest dream that held any form of concrete answer to its question.
Listening to the feeling it was brought to a cluster of multiverses all situated incredibly close together around the Last Wall.
Taking a moment to seek permission from the oldest dream to place its human in their pet project, it was as close to happy as any of its kind could be when it received a reluctant affirmative from beyond the Last Wall.
It reached into the fractal expance of space it had created to house the rapidly growing soul of its human before grasping some of the ambient probability and forging a body suited to house such a incredibl(y weird)e soul.
With as loving as eldritch hands can be it placed its human into the vessel it had crafted and gently inserted it into the epicenter of probability for this planet, Korea.