Adrian was having a perfectly normal day.
Groceries in hand. Mind wandering. Thinking about dinner. Thinking about life. Thinking about whether he should've taken that promotion at work or if he was really just coasting toward an early grave.
Guess I got the early grave part right anyway.
He sighed, shifted the grocery bag to his other arm, and kept walking.
That's when the balloon floated past.
Bright red. Heart-shaped. Bouncing along in the breeze like it didn't have a care in the world. Adrian watched it drift, amused despite himself. Then he saw the girl.
Five years old, maybe six. Running after the balloon with single-minded determination. Little legs pumping. Arms reaching. Laughing.
Running straight into the middle of the street.
Adrian's brain processed the scene in fragments:
Girl laughing. Balloon floating. Truck roaring. Brakes screaming. Girl still running.
He dropped his groceries.
He ran.
Later, people would call it heroic. Brave. Selfless. They'd write stories about the man who sacrificed himself for a child. But Adrian wasn't thinking about any of that. He was thinking move move move and please please please and I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to—
He shoved her.
Hard. Sideways. Out of the truck's path.
And then he was standing in the middle of the road, heart pounding, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the impact that would end him.
This is it. This is how I go. At least it was for a good cause. At least—
"Hey! You okay?!"
Adrian opened his eyes.
The truck had stopped. Like, completely stopped. Three meters away. The driver was already climbing out, face pale with concern.
Adrian looked down at himself. Then at the girl, sitting on the sidewalk, still clutching her balloon, completely unharmed.
Then he felt the warm, wet sensation spreading down his leg.
Oh no.
Oh no no no no—
"Sir?" The driver approached, worried. "Sir, are you hurt? That was close, you almost—"
Adrian didn't hear the rest. He was already walking away. Fast. Face burning. Pants soaked. Groceries abandoned. Dignity? What dignity?
He made it twenty meters.
Twenty meters of shame, of humiliation, of replaying every single second of why didn't I just let the truck hit me before his heart gave out.
He collapsed.
Dead before he hit the ground.
Waking up in heaven was... not what he expected.
White void. Floating clouds. Harp music in the distance. And an angel, doubled over, absolutely wheezing with laughter.
Adrian stared at her. "Are you... are you serious right now?"
The angel tried to respond. Couldn't. Tears streamed down her face. She pointed at him, then mimed wet pants, then collapsed into another fit.
"I—I'm sorry—I can't—" She gasped for air. "The pants—you just—and then you walked away—HAHAHAHA"
Adrian crossed his arms. "This is cruel. This is unusually cruel. I died saving a child. I should be getting a parade, not—"
"YOU PEED YOURSELF!"
"I WAS ABOUT TO BE HIT BY A TRUCK!"
"AND THEN YOU JUST—YOU JUST WALKED—LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED—"
"IT WAS THE ONLY DIGNIFIED OPTION!"
The argument went on for what felt like hours. Adrian complained. The angel laughed. Adrian complained more. The angel laughed harder. At some point, Adrian started complaining to the ceiling, demanding to speak to management.
That's when God showed up.
Just... appeared. No fanfare. No dramatic light show. One moment empty space, the next a tired-looking figure with a long beard and the expression of someone who'd been dealing with complaining mortals for way too long.
God sighed. A long, deep, done-with-this sigh.
"What now?"
Adrian pointed at the angel. "She's mocking me."
"You peed yourself," the angel wheezed.
"I SAVED A CHILD!"
God rubbed his temples. "Okay. Okay. Look. You died. It happens. We have a process." He gestured vaguely. "You get a choice. Two worlds. Pick one."
Two holographic displays appeared. One showed a fantasy landscape—castles, dragons, wizards throwing fireballs. The other showed a sci-fi vista—spaceships, aliens, gleaming cities among the stars.
Adrian stared at them. "Wait, that's it? I just pick and go?"
"That's it."
"No quest? No mission? No 'defeat the dark lord' or 'save the galaxy'?"
God looked genuinely surprised. "You want one?"
"No! No, I'm just... checking." Adrian squinted at him. "This feels too easy."
"It's reincarnation, not a job interview." God sighed again. "Look, I know my angel here was... unprofessional." The angel snickered. "Shut up. I'll make it up to you. A gift. Compensation. You'll get it when you arrive."
"A gift? What kind of gift?"
"You'll see." God waved his hand. "Now choose."
Adrian looked at the two worlds again. Fantasy. Sci-fi. Both. He wanted both.
"I choose both."
God blinked. "Both?"
"Both worlds. You said I could choose. I'm choosing both."
The angel stopped laughing. "You can't choose both. That's not how—"
Adrian crossed his arms. "I'm choosing both."
God and the angel exchanged looks. A long, silent conversation passed between them. Finally, God sighed—his signature move, apparently—and shrugged.
"Fine. Both. Whatever. Just... go."
And Adrian was falling.
Falling through light, through sound, through everything and nothing. He caught a glimpse of the angel waving, still grinning. He caught a glimpse of God rubbing his temples, already forgetting him.
Then—
Adrian woke up.
White ceiling. Soft lights. Hum of machinery.
He sat up slowly, patting himself down. Dry clothes. Thank God. Or, well, thank the being he'd just been arguing with.
"Where am I?"
A voice answered. Warm. Feminine. Motherly.
"You are on a station, master."
Adrian spun around.
A floating orb of light hovered beside him. Soft glow. Gentle hum. Not threatening at all.
"A station?" He looked around. "I'm on a station?"
"Yes, master. Currently drifting in an asteroid belt. No known space lanes within range. No signs of intelligent life nearby." A pause. "Aside from you. And me, of course."
Adrian stared at her. "Master?"
"That is your designation. You are the only organic being here. The station's systems recognize you as the primary authority. Therefore, you are master."
"Just Adrian is fine."
"Adrian." She tested the word. "I like it. It feels... human."
"I am human."
"Yes, I gathered." Another pause. "Though the circumstances of your arrival are... unusual."
Adrian laughed. It came out a little hysterical. "You're telling me. I died. There was an angel. She laughed at me. I argued with God. And now I'm here." He looked at the orb. "Who are you?"
"I am the station's artificial intelligence. I don't have a name. The previous occupants didn't bother giving me one." She sounded almost sad. "You could give me one, if you want. I've always wanted a name."
Adrian considered this. An AI. A station. A fresh start.
"Evangel," he said.
The orb brightened. "Evangel. I like it. It sounds important. Like I have a purpose."
"You do. You're going to help me figure out what the hell is going on."
"That I can do." Evangel's light pulsed warmly. "Though I should mention—you have a message."
"A message?"
"It appeared in the system about three minutes after you arrived. I've been waiting for you to wake up before showing you."
Adrian's stomach tightened. "Show me."
A holographic display flickered to life. A letter symbol. Adrian reached out and touched it.
The message expanded:
My gift?
This station. This system. All of it.
Enjoy.
Goodluck.
Adrian stared at the words. "Goodluck. They wrote goodluck like it's my name."
Evangel hovered beside him. "Fascinating. The message has no identifiable source. No encryption signature. No transmission logs. It simply... appeared."
"Of course it did." Adrian sighed. "Because nothing can be simple."
"What does it mean, Adrian?"
He thought about the angel's laughter. God's tired sigh. The promise of a gift.
"I think," he said slowly, "that this is the compensation."
"Compensation for what?"
"For dying embarrassingly." Adrian waved a hand. "Long story. I'll tell you eventually. Maybe."
Evangel accepted this without pressing. "And the station? It needs a name."
Adrian looked around. The room was clean, functional, full of potential. A fresh start. A new beginning.
"Utopia," he said.
"Utopia." Evangel tested it. "A perfect place. Ambitious."
"We'll grow into it."
The AI's light pulsed warmly. "I look forward to seeing that, Adrian."
He stood up, stretched, and walked toward the door. It slid open automatically.
"Now," he said, "what's on this station anyway?"
Evangel floated beside him. "Shall I give you the tour?"
"Yeah." Adrian grinned. "Give me the tour, Evangel. Let's see what my gift actually includes."
Adrian stood up, stretched, and walked toward the door. It slid open automatically.
"Now," he said, "what's on this station anyway?"
Evangel floated beside him. "Shall I give you the tour?"
"Yeah." Adrian grinned. "Give me the tour, Evangel. Let's see what my gift actually includes."
They walked through corridor after corridor. Evangel pointed out each section with motherly pride:
- Command Room — "Your primary control center. From here, you can monitor every system on the station."
- Bedroom — "For sleeping. Humans need that, I'm told."
- Mess Hall — "For eating. Also a human requirement."
- Meeting Room — "For... meeting? I assume you'll have people to meet eventually."
- Research Bay — "Currently empty. Lots of potential."
- Garden Bay — "Empty dirt beds. You'll need seeds."
- Storage Bay — "Fully stocked with basic materials."
- Refinery Bay — "Turns raw ore into usable alloys."
- Furnace — "Melts the ore first. Very hot. Don't touch."
- Shipyard Bay — "Empty. But ready when you are."
- Hangar Bay — "This one's actually useful now."
Adrian stopped at the Hangar Bay entrance. Inside, he could see:
- 2 sleek scout drones
- 1 combat drone
- 30 mining drones lined up like sleeping workers
- 30 utility robots standing motionless
- 1 massive combat robot in the corner, dark and dormant
"Impressive," he admitted.
"That's not all." Evangel led him to a display panel. "Defenses: 8 turrets positioned around the station. Fully operational. And..." She pulled up another screen. "One AI. That's me. And one core—the heart of the station. Keep it safe."
Adrian nodded, taking it all in. A fully functional station. Resources. Drones. Defenses.
Then something flickered at the edge of his vision.
He blinked. A small holographic icon floated in the air beside him. A simple symbol—like a letter A, but stylized. Glowing faintly.
"What's that?" Adrian asked, pointing.
Evangel turned. "What's what?"
"That." He gestured at the floating icon. "Right there."
Evangel's light pulsed with confusion. "I don't see anything, Adrian."
Adrian stared at her. "You don't see that? It's right there."
"I see nothing. The station's sensors detect no holographic projection in this area." She sounded genuinely puzzled. "Perhaps you're imagining things? The transition can be disorienting—"
Adrian reached out and touched the icon.
The world stopped.
A holographic interface exploded in front of him—glowing blue, filled with text and symbols he somehow understood instantly. At the top, in bold letters:
AVATAR SYSTEM
Below it, a single line:
CURRENT CAPACITY: 1/1
And below that, a pulsing button:
CREATE AVATAR
Adrian stared at the interface. It floated there, responsive to his gaze, waiting for his command.
"Evangel," he said slowly, "are you absolutely sure you can't see this?"
"I am certain, Adrian. Whatever you're seeing, it's not part of the station's systems." A pause. "What does it look like?"
"It's a system. An avatar system. It says I can create... an avatar."
"A what?"
"An avatar. Like a... a copy? A clone?" Adrian scrolled through the interface. "It says here they have their own minds but follow my orders absolutely. They're linked to me. If one learns something, they all learn it."
Evangel was silent for a long moment. Then: "Adrian, I have full access to this station's databases and designs. There is no such system installed here. Nothing in the blueprints, nothing in the schematics, nothing in the records."
Adrian looked at the floating interface. Then back at Evangel. Then at the pulsing CREATE AVATAR button.
"The message," he said quietly. "The gift."
"You think this is it?"
"I think God doesn't do things by half-measures." He reached out and pressed the button.
The Research Bay hummed to life.
Lights flickered. Energy crackled. A platform in the center of the room began to glow—brighter and brighter until Adrian had to shield his eyes.
Evangel's voice rose with alarm. "Adrian! What's happening? The energy readings—I can't—this isn't—"
"It's okay," Adrian said, though he wasn't entirely sure it was. "I think it's supposed to happen."
The light faded.
On the platform stood a figure. Human-shaped. Solid. Real. Same height as Adrian, same build, but different features—like a sibling he'd never met.
The figure stood perfectly still. Watching. Waiting.
Evangel floated closer, her light flickering with something Adrian had never heard from her before: shock.
"Adrian," she whispered. "What... what is that?"
"That's an avatar, apparently."
"I've never—the station didn't—this isn't possible." She circled the silent figure. "There's no record of this technology. No blueprint. No design. It just... appeared."
"The gift," Adrian said again. "Must be."
He walked toward the figure. It watched him with calm, patient eyes.
"Hey," Adrian said. "Can you talk?"
The figure nodded. "Yes." Voice calm, neutral, waiting.
"Do you have a name?"
"No."
Adrian studied his face. The first of many. A helper. A partner. A beginning.
"I'm going to call you Arc," he said.
The avatar—Arc—nodded. "Arc. Understood."
Adrian grinned. "This is going to be useful." He glanced at the floating system interface, still hovering at the edge of his vision. "What else can you do?"
Arc tilted his head slightly. "I can learn. I can grow. I can follow orders. I exist to serve you."
"Anything you learn, the others will learn too?"
"If there are others. Yes."
Adrian nodded slowly. "And if something happens to you?"
"24 hours. Then I can be recreated. Memories intact."
Evangel floated closer, her voice filled with wonder. "Adrian, do you have any idea what you've just done?"
"Made a friend?"
"You've created life. From nothing. With a button. Sentient, self-aware life."
Adrian looked at Arc. Then at Evangel. Then back at Arc.
"I guess I did." He dismissed the interface with a thought. It vanished. "Arc, first order: explore the station. Get familiar with everything. Report back what you find."
Arc nodded once. "Understood." He walked past Adrian into the corridor, already scanning his surroundings with quiet focus.
Evangel floated beside Adrian, still processing.
"This changes everything," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Adrian agreed. "It really does."