A Gift For Me?

The morning sun streamed through the slightly parted window shades, bathing her in a warm, golden light. She felt herself enveloped in soft, silken sheets, her body resting as if on a bed of clouds. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in her new surroundings—a room unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. Despite everything, she felt a bit excited.

Sure, she had died a horrible death just as she was finally starting to get control of her life, but this... this wasn't a bad start for her new one. That god, the one who wore her face, claimed to be the god of luck. Maybe she really had gotten lucky.

Just as a smile began to creep onto her lips, a searing heat spread through her stomach, and the smile vanished. Her muscles spasmed as she clutched her abdomen, a strained curse slipping through her teeth. Her vision blurred as her eyes darted wildly around the room, seeking something—anything—that could explain the agony.

"Ugh, why?" she groaned.

As if in response, a shimmering figure materialized beside her bed, floating a few feet off the ground. It was her—or rather, it was the god, mirroring her old appearance. Her previous face, she reminded herself, since she now had a new one.

The sight only added fuel to her frustration. She glared at the ethereal figure: delicate features, striking blue eyes, and long golden hair cascading over his shoulders. He still wore the same blouse, jeans, and white sneakers she had died in. Even as pain wracked her body, a stray thought crossed her mind.

'Damn.'

Though the god had taken on her former form, his voice was still the same soothing tone of a young man. So she kinda defaulted to calling him "he."

"You damned devil," she spat. The pain was unbearable, as though her entire body was being consumed by fire. Was she dying again?

The god looked startled at first, then a look of realization dawned on his face. Sheepishly, he glided toward her.

"Ah, right. Sorry about that," he said in an apologetic tone. "This body died of poisoning. Let me fix that real quick."

Without waiting for a response, he tentatively placed a glowing hand on her stomach. Even before the healing began, a soothing warmth spread through her, melting away the pain. When the soft light seeped into her abdomen, it was like a rush of pure euphoria. Her mind emptied; she couldn't think, nor did she want to. Thoughts would only interrupt her perfect bliss.

When the warmth finally subsided, and she regained her senses, Sofia sat up abruptly, her face a mix of panic and anger.

"Poisoned?!" she shouted, glaring at the god.

The god avoided eye contact, awkwardly pulling his hand away and floating back a few inches. "Well, uh, yeah…"

Her glare intensified. "What kind of hell did you send me to?"

"It's not hell," he muttered, his voice shy and unconvincing.

"At least have the decency to look me in the eyes when you lie to me!"

He flinched, his face burning with embarrassment. Reluctantly, his gaze met hers.

"Trust me, it's far better than the other options," he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.

Sofia studied his face for a moment before sighing. There wasn't much point in staying mad. At least she got a second chance at life. And, she reminded herself, as far as she knew, this god probably didn't have to do anything for her. Yet here he was, trying to make amends. A moment of silence passed between them.

"Tell me," she said finally, her voice softer but no less curious. "You said you 'sort of' caused my death. Why? And why the hell was it a truck falling from the sky?"

The god's expression went glum. "I didn't mean to," he admitted. "I was experimenting with how lucky I could make a mortal and how the world would accommodate the changes in fortune. On the sidewalk that morning, there was a woman standing beside you."

Sofia frowned, trying to recall. She hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings that day. Her life was turning for the better and she took the time to enjoy a coffee while waiting for the light to turn before she crossed the streets. She didn't think that morning would be her last...That she'd be here having this conversation with a god. But here she was, dead.

The god continued, "I saw when her life ended. It would end then, that morning. An unfortunate accident, hit by a swerving truck. A single witness, a girl of eighteen, her fabulous blouse ruined by the spalter of blood." He hesitated, his gaze falling.

"When altering fate one must chip away at it, a series of small fortunate coincidences that nudge it in the direction you want. My domain allows me to do so but... Fate is a stubborn thread, when pulling too hard you risk it slipping from your grasp and snapping back on reality. I was trying to prevent her death."

"And did you?"

"I did but…I pulled too hard and…now you're here."

He looked at her, guilt etched across his face. "I'm really sorry."

Sofia stared at him, processing his words.

'At Least it was my life for someone else's.' She thought. But that wasn't really a comfort to her, she still hated the fact that she was dead. She had so much life to live and now…

 A long silence stretched between them before the god suddenly shook off his melancholy.

"Anyway," he said, awkwardly clearing his throat, "I really gotta go."

"What?" Sofia instinctively reached for his hand, the blissful warmth returning the instant she made contact. "You can't leave me here all alone! I don't know anything about this world!"

The god looked down at her hand, his expression apologetic. "I can't shirk my duties, Sofia. I'm a god. If I spend too much time here, the others will notice, and it won't be good for either of us."

"Others?" she asked, reluctantly letting go. The warmth faded, leaving her feeling oddly empty.

"Yes, other gods and all that jazz." He sighed, running a hand through his shimmering hair. "Don't worry, though. I'll pop by sometimes. I promise."

"Really?" she asked, a flicker of hope in her voice.

"Yes, really."

His reassurance eased some of her anxiety, but new worries quickly replaced it. How was she supposed to survive here without any knowledge of this world—or this body? Unlike in all those transmigration novels she occasionally partook in, there wasn't a convenient, overpowered system to guide her.

Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. "Wait!" She turned to the god with an expectant look.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Do you have a system to give me?" she asked, excitement bubbling in her voice. Her mind raced with possibilities. A luck based system where she got luckier and luckier as she leveled up till she was the luckiest person in the world? Or maybe a Luck based system where she stole luck from others, ruining their lives in the process...She giggled at this evil thought.

The god's face twisted in confusion. "What the hell is a system?"

Sofia blinked, stunned. "You're joking, right?" What the hell did this god mean by what the hell is a system? A transmigration without a system? She felt like she was being cheated, robbed even. What was even the point if she couldn't get overpowered and flex on her Enemies? Snatching the hearts of maidens and men left and right. She looked at the god, wondering how she could explain a system.

She tried her best, she really did, but as her words grew more convoluted, the god's expression only became more baffled. And her face only looked more desperate and sad. He stared at her blankly as she continued explaining, throwing around words like: Cultivation, game like, and Villainess of all things.

Finally, unable to bear anymore, he interrupted her rambling.

She crossed her arms, a slight pout on her face. Knowing she wouldn't get a system made her feel like this whole thing was nothing but a tragedy. She could even cry right now, in fact she needed a good cry, curl up into a ball and wallow in her misery. But she had her pride, and a god was in her presence so she sucked it up.

Seeing the sad look on her face he felt even more guilty...He sighed. "Look, I don't know what this 'system' thing is, but I can give you a gift...It's power you want, right?" His voice was hopeful.

Before she could respond, he snapped his fingers. Space warped and folded, spitting out an object into his hand. He held it up with a triumphant grin.

It was a mask.

A hideous mask.