The landing wasn't graceful. It was a wet, bone-jarring thud that tasted like dirt and rotting vegetation.
Jack Miller lay face-down in the mud, his limbs tangled in a mess of swamp grass and sludge. A sharp, stinging pain radiated from his nose—he'd definitely broken it, or at least bruised it severely. The cold seeped into his skin, biting and uncomfortable. His lungs burned as he inhaled air that smelled of sulfur, wet dog, and decay.
He groaned, pushed himself up on trembling arms, and spat out a mouthful of grit.
Then, he started laughing.
"Hahahaha. Yes!" he rasped, his voice cracking. He wiped the mud from his eyes, ignoring the sting. "Pain! Actual, physical pain! My back hurts! My knees are stiff! I'm miserable!"
Any sane being hearing him right now would definitely think he's finally gone crazy. He scrambled to his feet, slipping slightly in the muck. He looked down at himself. Naked. Pale. Lean, but not sculpted like a marble statue. He had scars—small ones, from childhood, from construction jobs on Earth eons ago. He pinched the skin of his forearm. It turned red. It stayed red.
"Fragile," Jack whispered, a grin splitting his muddy face. "Weak. Mortal. Finally."
He took a deep breath, savoring the sheer mediocrity of his new existence. No cosmic awareness flooding his brain. No prayers from distant galaxies cluttering his thoughts. Just the sound of wind howling through twisted trees and the wet squelch of mud between his toes.
"At least I'm human again," he murmured, stretching his arms. A satisfying pop echoed from his shoulder. "No wings. No halo. Just Jack Miller in the flesh."
He was about to celebrate with a victory dance when a memory flickered in the back of his mind.
We included a parting gift. Just in case.
Jack froze mid-stretch. The grin vanished.
"Wait," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the foggy treeline. "Those Old Geezers... they wouldn't. They couldn't. Right?"
He focused inward. He didn't have his cosmic senses anymore, but he had something else. A habit formed over a trillion years of solitude.
"Aura?" he called out, his voice echoing in the damp fog. "Are you still online?"
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Then, a familiar blue shimmer ignited in his retina—not in the world, but directly across his vision.
[ Auralysis System Booting... ]
[ Integrity Check: 100% ]
[ Establishing Neural Link... ]
[ Connection Stable. ]
[ How are you today, Master Miller? ]
The text floated in the air, crisp and clean, a stark contrast to the chaotic, messy swamp around him.
Jack let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good. I thought you dissolved with the scenic route. Scan my new body. I need to know what kind of lemon they sold me."
[ Scanning host body... ]
[ Scan Complete. ]
[ Anomaly Detected in Soul Matrix. ]
Jack's stomach dropped. "Show me."
The interface flickered, bringing up a list of skills.
[ HIDDEN SKILL: GENESIS RUIN ]
Authority: Absolute.
Effect (Active): Disintegrate matter, mana, or souls based on user's visualization.
Effect (Active): Construct matter, mana, or souls from conceptual blueprints.
Constraint: Usage emits a Class-0 Cosmic Signal detectable by High-Tier Divinities and Administrators.
Jack stared at the text. The blood drained from his face.
"Those sons of bitches," he whispered. The anger didn't flare hot; it burned cold, the cynical rage of a man who knew exactly how the corporate game was played.
"It's a tracking beacon," Jack hissed, pacing in the mud. "They gave me the power of a Creator God, but if I use it—even once—it lights me up on their radar like a flare in a dark room. They'll know exactly where I am. They'll fucking tamper with the fate threads, 'accidentally' kill me, and drag me back to the office."
He kicked a rotting log, shattering it. "It's a trap! They expect me to panic, use the power to save myself from a wolf or a bandit, and boom—vacation over."
He looked up at the grey, overcast sky and extended a muddy middle finger. "Not today! And not ever! I will live my entire mortal life without touching that button, you hear me? I'll never die of old age in a bed, or get killed and you won't get a single ping, you bastards!"
[ Awaiting further instructions, Master. Shall I scan for remaining Passive Traits? ]
"Yeah," Jack grumbled, lowering his hand. "Let's see what else stuck to the soul during the transfer."
[ Scanning... ]
[ PASSIVE SKILL: Abyss-Tempered Soul ]
Description: Mental resistance forged through 500 billion years of isolation. Immune to madness, fear, and psychic intrusion.
Note: User is technically sane, though personality defects are permanent.
"Hey," Jack protested weakly. "But fair. That explains why I'm not screaming at the sky right now."
[ PASSIVE SKILL: Cosmic Work Ethic ]
Description: Absolute focus on task completion.
Effect: Once a task is accepted, the user enters a hyper-focus state. Grants immense precision in crafting, planning, and engineering.
Drawback: User experiences extreme irritation at structural inefficiency or poor workmanship.
Jack groaned, slapping a hand over his face. "I hate that one. I hate it so much. That's why I couldn't leave the Spirit Realm until every star was aligned within 0.001 degrees."
He glanced at a nearby tree. It was leaning slightly to the left. A twitch developed in Jack's right eye. That root structure is unstable. If I just moved that rock, the load distribution would be—
"Stop it," he told himself, forcing his gaze away. "Ignore the shoddy tree."
[ PASSIVE SKILL: Soul Sense (Fragment) ]
Description: Can perceive vague soul-shapes within a 50-meter radius.
Rank: Mortal (High).
[ PASSIVE SKILL: Reflex Interpretation ]
Description: Abyss-honed instinct allows subconscious prediction of hostile movements.
[ PASSIVE SKILL: Adaptive Combat Memory ]
Description: Muscle memory of a trillion years translated to a mortal frame. The body is weak, but the technique is absolute.
Jack rubbed his chin. "Okay. Not bad. These are the survival kits. I can fight, I can sense anybody within 500 meter radius, and I can build stuff without losing my mind—mostly. I can work with this."
[ Scan complete. No additional skills found. ]
"Give me the stats, Aura. Let's see how bad the hardware is."
The blue screen shifted, displaying a wireframe model of his new body.
[ STATUS ]
Name: Jack Miller
Age: 21 (Physical) / ∞ (Soul)
Race: Human (Base)
Strength (STR): 9 (Average Adult Male: 10)
Agility (AGI): 8
Endurance (END): 7
Vitality (VIT): 7
Perception (PER): 14
Magic (MAG): 0 (Mana Core dormant)
Jack looked at the single-digit numbers and smiled. A genuine, relieved smile.
"Look at that," he said affectionately. "A nine in Strength. I'm below average. In the Abyss, my strength stat was a number so long it crashed the UI. Now? I struggle to open a jar."
He flexed his bicep. It was terrifyingly ordinary.
"Perfect," Jack declared. "I can work with nine. Nine is safe. Nine doesn't attract attention. Nine doesn't get you drafted into a cosmic war."
[ Master, Environmental Scan indicates temperature is dropping. Humidity is 98%. Local flora suggests we are in the "Foggy Swamps" of the Central Plains. Threat level: High. ]
Jack sighed, the euphoria of mortality fading as the cold wind bit at his nether regions.
"Right," Jack said, shivering. He looked around the desolate, misty swamp. "Step one: Survival. Step two: Find civilization."
He looked down at himself again.
"Step zero," he muttered, covering himself with his hands as a particularly icy breeze rolled through. "Find some pants. I am not fighting my first swamp monster with my 'little Miller' swinging in the wind."