Prologue

The fluorescent lights hummed softly, casting a sterile glow over the office. My desk was a mess of blueprints, coffee stains, and half-finished calculations. That was how most of my evenings went—late nights in the engineering department, trying to meet deadlines that no one but the higher-ups seemed to care about. Not that I minded, really. Work was work, and it kept my mind occupied.

I wasn't anyone special. Just your average guy in his early thirties with a knack for problem-solving and a degree in mechanical engineering. My job wasn't glamorous, but I was good at it. Designing machines, optimizing systems, fixing what others broke—it was satisfying in its own way. My coworkers respected me, and I got along well with most of them.

Sometimes we'd share a laugh over lunch or commiserate about the latest round of corporate nonsense. But when the workday ended, they went home to their families, their friends, their lives. And I? Well, I went home to an empty apartment.

It's not that I hated being alone. I just never seemed to fit anywhere outside of work. Making friends was always hard for me. Conversations felt like walking a tightrope—too much, and people got annoyed; too little, and they lost interest. So I stopped trying. My coworkers filled the gap well enough, and I convinced myself that was enough.

Weekends were spent tinkering with small projects, watching documentaries, or playing strategy games on my aging PC. I had hobbies, sure, but nothing that really mattered. My parents called every few weeks to check in, and I visited them for holidays. It was... fine. My life was fine. Predictable. Comfortable. Lonely, maybe, but not unbearable.

Until it wasn't.

I was walking home that night, same as always. The cool evening air felt good after a day in the office. My headphones were in, some podcast droning on about the industrial revolution and how it reshaped society. I liked stuff like that—learning how small innovations changed the course of history.

The pedestrian crossing light blinked green, and I stepped off the curb, my mind more on steam engines than the street in front of me. That's when I heard it—the screech of tires, a horn blaring, and someone shouting. I looked up, and all I saw were headlights.

And then... nothing.

No pain. No sound. Just an overwhelming stillness. It was as if the world itself had been turned off.

"So, that's it," I thought. "I'm dead."

"At last! A soul pure and untarnished by the evils of the world! The chosen one has finally arrived!"

The voice boomed around me, impossibly loud yet strangely clear, as if it resonated directly in my mind. It was deep and grand, the kind of voice you'd expect from a deity in some high-budget fantasy movie. I blinked—or at least, I think I did. It was hard to tell in this endless void of light.

"For countless ages, I have searched for a champion. A hero destined to bring balance, to cleanse the wicked, and to restore glory to a broken land," the voice continued, dripping with self-importance.

I groaned inwardly. Oh, great. Is this some kind of afterlife orientation? The speech was painfully familiar, like something ripped straight out of the isekai manga my coworker kept shoving in my face during breaks. "You'll love it," he'd said. "It's all about this guy who dies and gets reincarnated in another world as the hero." It was entertaining enough, but living it? That was another story.

"Your soul shines with the purity of—"

"Stop," I said, cutting the voice off mid-sentence. "Just... stop with this bullshit."

There was a deafening silence, as if the entire void had taken a collective gasp. For a moment, I wondered if I'd just made a cosmic mistake.

"Excuse me?" the voice said, sounding more confused than angry.

"You heard me," I said, crossing my arms—or at least imagining I did, since I didn't exactly have a body right now. "I get it. I'm dead. You're some kind of god or whatever, and this is the part where you tell me I'm the chosen hero. But honestly? I've heard this spiel before, and it's as boring now as it was in those crappy manga. Can we skip to the part where you tell me what's really going on?"

"You are dead," the voice continued. "And now that you are here, you cannot return to your world. Normally, a soul like yours would be recycled into life without its memories, but—"

"Yes, yes, I know all that stuff," I said, cutting him off mid-sentence again. "And let me guess, you want to send me to the human kingdom to help them fight off the monsters? But aren't you a god? I'm sure if you really wanted to, you could save them by snapping your fingers. So why me, you'd ask? My guess is that you do all of this just for entertainment. Am I right?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the voice burst into laughter. It was loud and hearty, reverberating through the void like an earthquake. "Yes! You're right. I'm doing all of this to cure my boredom. But to be honest, making humans suffer, giving them a hero, and watching what happens is getting a little dull. Since you are so bold, do you have an idea instead?"

As the voice spoke, a humanoid figure began to form in front of me, made entirely of light. It was dazzling and radiant, yet somehow not blinding. A moment later, I looked down and realized I now had a body too—a human form, though far dimmer and less radiant than his.

"Can I get a bit of knowledge about this world first?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I'm sure I can come up with an idea, or I'm no longer called an engineer."

The god chuckled, waving his hand. "Very well. Listen closely."

Images and sensations flooded my mind, like flipping through an encyclopedia at high speed. Fertile lands, a kingdom teetering on the edge of collapse, demi-humans oppressed and enslaved by humans, and a society barely clinging to survival. The dragons and dragonborn lived far from the conflicts, their power unchallenged. The elves and dwarves remained in isolation, their unique skills inaccessible to most. And the humans? They dominated everything, their arrogance leaving the other races to fend for themselves.

When the flood of information stopped, I exhaled heavily, my head spinning. "Okay," I muttered. "I think I've got enough to work with."

"Oh? So you have an idea?" the god asked, curiosity gleaming in his tone.

"Yes," I said, smirking. "Here's what we do. First, you give the humans a run-of-the-mill hero. Someone they can rally behind to fight off their so-called monsters. Let them play out their usual cycle of despair and hope."

"Interesting. And then?" the god prompted.

"Second," I continued, "you get the demi-humans to try summoning a hero of their own. They'll use the church connected to their castle—an act of desperation to match the humans' apparent miracle."

The god tilted his head. "But they lack the resources for such an endeavor."

"Exactly," I said. "You make it so they think they don't have enough mana to complete the summoning. That's when the princess—driven by duty, faith, or sheer desperation—steps into the summoning circle and offers her body and soul to the god."

"Fascinating," the god said, stroking an invisible beard of light. "And you expect me to bring the princess's soul here in that moment?"

"Exactly," I confirmed.

The god's form leaned slightly closer, his glowing face unreadable. "Why? Why should I bring her soul here?"

I grinned, leaning back as if I were sitting in an invisible chair. "Because I want to show you a bit of drama. Trust me—it'll be worth the wait. Besides, my old life was getting boring. I want a fresh start, and let's just say I've taken a liking to the princess's body."

The god burst out laughing again, a deep, booming sound that shook the void. "You are an unusual one. Very well! Let us proceed with your plan. This should prove most entertaining!"