Chapter 2: Sticky-Note

This time, I don't just appear at a desk in front of a mannequin.

This time, I appear at a podium with a bunch of trumpets blasting fanfare.

And the mannequin is a little more animated.

“Welcome!”

“To The Game…

of…

Gooooooooooooooooooods!”

Despite the tiny fireworks that go off behind the mannequin posing like a character from Jojo's bizarre adventure we are still in a void of nothing. That same ‘cars in the parking lot that aren't yours’ nothing, except for the podium I stand on, a ring of circular podiums around me, and of course, the Jojo posing mannequin.

“Congratulations contestant for making the greatest decision of your afterlife! I am the orientation-construct for The Game and am here to help you understand just what gore and glory you signed up for and what sort of arsenal you want to sieze it with!”

Its voice is a genderless, fruit salad mixture of monster truck announcer, game show host, and carnival barker. I step down to sit on the podium and ready myself for whatever pageantry Vince McMannequin has in store for me.

“To start, The Game of Gods is, indeed, a game! There will be many mechanics and systems you are familiar with or that resemble those of a high-fantasy role-playing game or video game.”

It takes a large loping step and leans in close to me, and I swear I see a flash of yellow before it whispers to me.

“You are familiar with rpgs and video games, right?”

I roll my eye.

“Yes.”

“Great!” It suddenly appears back towards the center.

“Then allow me to tell you how this will work, and how it won't!”

“Every contestant will have a class, as well as passive and active skills! You will acquire new skils on level-up, or upon learning or earning them! Here is an example of how mine might look!”

The construct snaps its fingers, standing up straight, and words appeared above it.

***

GoG Orientation-construct, Tier 9 [Humanity Orientation-construct]

[Pizazz] (passive)

[Illusory reality] (active, upgradable)

[Time-exempt] (passive)

[God-exempt] (passive)

[Absolute specialist] (active)

[Indestructible] (passive)

***

“If I were a contestant, my class would be Humanity Orientation-construct, meaning my job is to help you silly little monkeys, and I would have skills to facilitate that.

My skills would be things like [Absolute specialist], which would allow me to know anything and everything relevant to my job! Or [God-exempt] which would prevent any Gods from affecting or interfering with my work!”

It snaps its fingers again and the display disappears.

“Here’s a representation of how you would look to someone who can see such things.”

A much smaller display pops up before me, movable and 2d, almost resting between my hands like a tablet.

***

Horatio Bergmann, Tier 0 [NULL]

[One-eyed] (passive)

[Perfect Memory] (passive)

[Fear Resistance] (passive, upgradable)

***

I sigh. “Can we change the name on this?”

“Of course,” the construct bows, and I briefly see that flash of yellow again. “What would you like it changed to?”

“Cyclops, or Cy.” I reply.

It snaps its fingers and the display changes.

***

Horatio “Cyclops or Cy” Bergmann, Tier 0 [NULL]

[One-eyed] (passive)

[Perfect Memory] (passive)

[Fear Resistance] (passive, upgradable)

***

“You know damn well that's not what I meant!”

“So sorry, any changes to your default name will have to be done at a Great Work office once you reach the 2nd tier and enter the wider world!”

“Can you at least fix the ‘or–”

“Moving on!

Each sapient species’ selection of starting classes is specially chosen by The Great Work by analyzing the gestalt of that species’ culture and history!

Don't worry too hard about what you start with, your class and skills evolve with you. Are you familiar with the idea of the ‘akashic records’?”

“I've heard someone reference it before.” I say, recalling a time a street dealer joked that half the entries in his akashic records would be beating his meat.

“Well, The Great Work contains the akashic records, which are a complete account of everything that is, was, or ever will be!*”

“Wh-- how did you just speak an asterisk?”

“The choices of starting classes for humans are…”

It full-body swings to point to one of the podiums. A spotlight from nowhere flicks on to illuminate it.

“Warrior!” As the construct gestures to it, an actual mannequin appears on the podium wearing plate armor and carrying a sword and shield.

“Hit and get hit, a warrior is one bred for battle, whether they be a barbarian or a duelist.”

It points to the podium next to the warrior, and another spotlight shines.

“Rogue!”

This time the mannequin is wearing black leather armor with a hood, and is crouched down with a dagger.

“Stealth, subterfuge, and skullduggery. They may not be the best in a fight they haven't rigged, but they are specialists important to any group.”

“Mage!”

The classic wizard with blue robes, big hat, long staff, and even a fake beard for effect.

“Masters of magic, whether it be bending reality to your will or blowing up a continent! Also usually annoying know-it-alls. Studying optional!”

“Cleric!”

Heavy-armored with a mace in one hand and a glowing book in another.

“Channel your conviction or the domain of a God! Eventually stepping into your own as you define your personal piety!”

“Ranger!”

Bow and arrow, heavy furs, and a wooden mannequin falcon on its shoulder.

“Bounty hunters and wildmen. Fight and trap from afar, or tame the wilderness!”

“Soldier!”

A classic army man, camo and even a modern rifle over one shoulder.

“Teamwork, preparation, and doctrine, a soldier knows their duty and does it come hell or high water! That, or jacks off in a blazing hot latrine in the desert.”

“Monk!”

A mannequin wearing tattered robes standing on a single toe, in a meditative stance.

“Hone your body and soul to its absolute limit, and then beyond! Resist a sword to the face through sheer fucking grit! Warning: if lacking in grit, attempting to resist a sword to the face will kill you. We recommend dodging.”

“Bard!”

A dumb looking mannequin in frilly clothes and a feathered hat strumming a lute.

“Channel the truths of the universe found in passion and meaning, tragedy or comedy! Singing optional.”

“Artisan!”

A mannequin in a medieval lab coat leaning over a workbench, covered in tools and grease.

“Enchanters, mechanics, blacksmiths and more! Create masterpieces that can do anything you dream of and empower your allies to thrive. Or, selfishly wield them yourself!”

“And finally,”

the construct turns to the final podium, and as it does so I see that flash of yellow again.

“Mastermind!”

A mannequin in a suit and bow tie stares at a cork board with Polaroids and red yarn.

“Conniving little shits, Masterminds are the behind-the-scenes, Godfather, string-puller, guys-in-a-chair to any groups success. Support others in the finer details to succeed in their goals, or manipulate others to unwittingly work towards your own!”

As soon as it said ‘conniving’ my ears perked. I knew what I wanted. But that flash of yellow I kept seeing as it flailed around piqued my curiosity.

“These choices will give you a basic set of skills to start with, but again, this isn't the end-all be-all of your path. Anyone can learn to cast magic, wield an axe, or craft items. Who you are is determined only by you. And if youre unhappy with the direction its taking, you can always start over!”

“Now, before you decide, I need to clear up some misconceptions.” It summons a pair of spectacles and a, what I can plainly see is empty, clipboard.

“There are no stats, so don't worry about that. Your strength and what-have-you will grow naturally, and beyond mortal limits with no real ceiling.”

“You don't have an inventory, but there are dimensional storage items, skills, or spells, but beware that those items have to go somewhere, so they don't just stop existing.”

“Spells and magic--”

“Yeah, great, thanks. Can you… just turn around for me?”

The mannequin with spectacles over its blank face looks at me quizzically but cheerfully.

“Why?” It asks.

I didn't expect it to question it, I kinda figured it'd do whatever I asked.

“Uh… cuz I need to really think about this and… I need privacy?”

Because that’s a totally normal thing to ask.

The glasses and clipboard disappear. “Okay!”

Nailed it.

The Orientation-construct kicks out a leg, and dramatically turns itself so its back is facing me, and I see that flash of yellow again, but this time it persists.

Right there on its left plasticy ass cheek is a tilted yellow square. A sticky note. One that reads;

CHOOSE MAGE

-Cy <3