Just another isekai

“Sir, yes…please. I need to ask just once more. Are you sure that your monitor is plugged in?”

Martin sighed dejectedly into his headpiece. His fingers tapping irritatedly on his desk as he listened to the person on the other end argue with him. “I understand sir, but…for my sake and yours please check and make sure that the cable is connected to your monitor from your PC and…yes, yes.” Martin let out a breath of relief, thankful to hear the silence on the other end as the man finally followed his advice. “Now you can…hello? Hello?...Ugh, of course... Thank you Martin! No sir, it was no problem! You’re welcome!” He mocked the now-dead phone line, after having been abruptly hung up on. He logged his call on the app, then closed it. Pushing away from his desk and getting up to stretch his back.

Someday he’d quit this job. Troubleshooting for the technically inept and answering simple, mundane questions to oblivious people who don't even know how to open an app on their phone, let alone understand what a command prompt on their PC was. He wondered if he should just call it a half-day today, and get started on preparing for his campaign tonight. Checking his notes and setup list, he went over his itinerary.

Get the maps ready, make sure snacks were on hand, and that he had all his notes about everyone’s characters and hanging personal arc threads, all the NPCs and dangling plot hooks to keep track off from session to session, some from the first session of the campaign, some as new as last game…oh, and spare character sheets in case someone forgot theirs or needed to remake a new one lickety-split. Everything seemed to be in order, good. Now he just needed to wait for tonight and log into their Discord server. Looking over he spotted the 3D-printed figurines of his party he’d commissioned.

Martin stared listlessly at the various models, miniatures and figurines dotting the landscape of his desk, cupboard and shelves. All of his knick-knacks and fantasy parapheniala saturating every single inch of his apartment.

When he used to work at the office before, he’d spend most of his time daydreaming. Before every call, he’d be inside his own head, imagining himself thrown into a world of medieval fantasy and what type of hero he’d be. Spending hours upon hours a day playing his MMOs and maxing out every class, switching around mains with every new update and expansion. And if he wasn't, he was going through his favorite single-player RPGs and trying every iteration of class available with different builds and scenarios to see how each one played. Writing guides and walkthroughs, arguing on message boards, and browsing through all of his favored video-game and hobbyists news sites for updates and new information.

His weekends were spent building figurines, and painting the many miniatures that he’d collected over the years. All were fantasy-themed; knights and monsters, dragons and centaurs, minotaurs and kings and queens of all kinds. Folders upon folders in his gaming PC filled with different builds and character sheets for his weekly online D&D sessions. A whole bookcase filled with guidebooks, manuals and other references. Along with a large collection of fantasy manga, which included a huge amount of his favorite genre. Isekai.

Not a day went by that Martin didn't dream, fantasize or sleepwalk through all the times he wished that it would happen to him. How his life would be, were he thrust into the realm of magic and adventure. To be a grand hero in a new realm, to be revered and treated with respect and admiration. Using his extensive knowledge of the genre to overcome any obstacle and pitfall. He could be a great champion, a bard, a cleric, a monk. He felt he was adaptable to any class that the world could offer him.

Martin ate up all that fiction like a sponge, living in his head a reality that he controlled where he was the all-important hero. Where he could save the kingdom, no, the world. Fight against incalculable odds, topple even the vilest of foes. In his mind, he was the chosen champion, destined to bring peace and prosperity to the land. The one to get the beautiful and chaste princess’ hand and become the new and beloved king.

But in this reality, he lived alone in a studio apartment sleeping on a fold out bed from his couch. Living paycheck to paycheck, and spending ninety percent of it on more manga and figures, games and books. He was content with this lifestyle, and didn't have lofty ambitions or goals. Unremarkable in every way, as long as he was left alone in turn. He was “Content” in a manner of speaking. Stagnant but not depressed, he simply just lived his life as he wanted without care of and fulfilled his basic and simple desires. Sure there was a slight longing here and there for companionship, and the few relationships he had had with the women in his life were always met with disappointment. They didn’t end badly, and he wasn't on bad terms with any of them. It was just a lack of mutual interest in each other's desires. To be honest, Martin wasn't particularly sure what he was looking for in a partner, romance wasnt his strong point as he’d spent most of his time digesting stories about heroes and monsters rather than tales of chivalry and love.

Maybe one day he’d find that special someone, but he made no attempts to find it himself or just wait for someone to come along to him one day. Until then, his biggest concern was going to the store to get more almond milk. He grumbled as he felt his stomach turn in hunger, maybe he could munch on some dry cereal instead. Being lactose intolerant was such a pain in the ass...literally.

Barefoot, and stumbling over to his fridge. He opened it, looking for something to drink. There was some orange juice, some soda, a glowing purple portal to another dimension, some water, a couple sports drinks, a—

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?” Martin screamed, falling flat on his ass. As if noticing him, the portal that appeared inside his fridge pulsed and grew. A vacuum of picked up at his clothes and hair, dragging him across the tiled kitchen floor. Martin was stunned for a moment before he felt himself being pulled towards the strange portal. However it was too late for him to even put up a fight, even as he grabbed onto the fridge door and sides, his legs up to his waist had been pulled inside it. There was no one to call for help or scream, Martin cursed his lack of upper body strength as the suction proved too much and his hands slipped. With barely a sound, Martin was swallowed up whole by the mysterious vortex in between his icebox and salad crispr, the door slamming behind him and leaving his single apartment in silence.

Martin felt nauseous and disoriented, his body felt stretched and pulled in a million different directions before being roughly deposited into a soft and very plush chair.

“Welcome brave adventurer, yadda yadda, so forth and so forth. You’ve been chosen to become a champion in another realm as you’ve got all the qualities, requirements and/or attributes, something or other for their plight at hand. Blah blah blah and yeah…” Martin, despite still trying to get his bearings, upon hearing the gruff yet musical voice of an older woman - who seemed to be very tired or annoyed - opened his eyes…

Looking across, he saw a literal goddess of light. Dressed in long flowing robes, with a body fit for divinity. Long, gorgeous glowing red hair adorned a face that would make an angel jealous, full bee-stung lips painted an ethereal crimson. Her body was, well damn Martin could only say it was “bangin!” At least from what he could see of her upper body from the waist up, which included a rather large pair of breasts he wanted to smother his face in. The goddess noticed his staring and snapped her fingers in front of her face. A snap that was more like a deafening roar to him as it got his attention, Martin shook his head trying to get the ringing to stop in his ears.

“Why can't it be a woman for once geez, all i get is the lonely mortal male losers who get hypnotized as soon as they see a pair. Whatever…” she cleared her throat, making a dramatic yet sarcastic flair as her voice echoed.

“CHOSEN ONE YOU HAVE BEEN…ugh, fuck it. I'm so tired of this shit” The goddess declared, her shoulders slumped and visibly deflating. The ethereal wind and aura that surrounded her fell and fizzled out and she sagged in her chair. Looking more haggard and disheveled than divine. Holding her hand in the air before her face, she made a smooth motion with her fingers and summoned what looked like a vase, decorated with ornate designs and glyphs.

“Oh, yeah” She sighed happily, as she hovered her face over the edge of the vase and inhaled the vapor that was spilling forth. “Fuck yeah, thats the shit” she inhaled, and then began to cough somewhat violently. Martin was dumbstruck by the display, this supposed goddess he’d just met indulging herself so blatantly.

“Uhhmm…excuse me” Martin ventured, trying to find his voice, and cringing at how small and meek he sounded.

The unnamed goddess held up a finger, not looking in his direction and took another long drag of the vapor from her “vase”. She choked down a cough, breathing in hard and tried to compose herself in a regal manner. An attempt decidedly at odds with her puffed-out cheeks and the smoke spilling from her lips and nostrils.

“Ooooh shiiiiiitttt!” She exhaled, waving her hands in front of her face to dissipate the remaining vapor. “That really hits the spot, damn…gotta thank Deblorius for figuring out that you can turn ambrosia into a vapor. I’d offer you some kid, but it’d probably melt your lungs and make your head explode…but fuck, it’d probably be worth it.” She laughed, lounging over her chair in a more relaxed manner.

Martin stared wide eyed.

“Oh yeah, sorry for the abruptness. I'm just venting. Being punished for letting one mortal realm get consumed by a chaos deity of immense evil and eternal darkness and all of sudden everybody throws you under the bus. I thought I was helping!..How was I supposed to know that having a planet full of horny elves could do that? Everybody was having fun and then…well it’s best to not talk about what happened. Nevertheless..I'm stuck here, for a MILLENIA just because of one simple mistake” the goddess sighed.

Martin just stared slack jawed. “What’s happening? Who are you? Where am I?”

“Oh yeah, never got the rest of the spiel…sorry. I’ve been doing this for like twenty thousand years or so. I'm so ready for this shit to be over. Names Maleial, but everyone just calls me Mal. Goddess Second-class, overseeing…ugh “commissions and champions'' Maleiel sighed, heavy and full of disdain.

“Whau?---” Martin answered with confusion.

“Okay, so I'm the one responsible for fulfilling the “commissions” of the many, MANY mortal realms who worship “the gods”. Not even specific gods really, just “the gods.” We listen to the prayers and requests they make to save them from the big bad evil whatever, and place heroes and champions in their realms for their needs, to save the day and yadda yadda yadda” Mal waved her hands.

“You mean I'm…I'm getting Isekaied?” Martin stood up in his seat, a grin spreading across his face from ear to ear. He’d dreamed of this happening nearly every night, and now all of a sudden it WAS real, unfolding right before his eyes!

“Bingo kid, but to be honest I really couldn’t give a damn” Mal started with a heavy tone of apathy.

“What?” Martin's dreams were dashed, this wasn’t how he’d pictured it at all.

“Listen, you see these papers? I’ve got like a million of them. Each one is a request, and each one is a specific “role” they serve. Along with a new body, and different stats–”

“Character sheets?”

“Eh, yeah, sure whatever. Anyway, they all have designations but lack the will or the soul to inhabit them, think of them as empty shells or what have you. So in order for one organism to function, it needs to have a spark of life. That's where you come in.

Now normally you’d make it here after you’ve died or something…however” She shuffles a bunch of papers on the intricately carved desk before her. “Here you go, you were about to have a heart attack and die instantly. So hey, at least you can thank me you didn't have to suffer!” Mal announced proudly.

“But…I was completely fine and healthy…” Martin argued, holding his chest.

“What can I say kid? Shit happens. Anyway, I'm getting backed up on my requests here and I can already feel upper management breathing down my neck. So we need to move this along real quick like before I hit my next break in…500 years” Mal checked her gold wrist watch in the shape of a sundial. “Seriously!?” She screamed up into the endless void above them.

Martin stayed silent, still having trouble trying to comprehend all of the information that assaulted him. Mal was speaking something, but he was too off inside his own thoughts to pay attention.

“Shit, did I lose the form? Fuck it…whatever” Mal muttered to herself, frantically rifling through her stacks of paperwork to find what she needed. While doing so she knocked over the bottle of vapor that spilled a golden liquid all over every piece of paper. “Oh fuck, shit, fuck!” She panicked. Trying and failing to wring out the divine liquid from her paperwork. Using her robes to wipe it off and drenching and staining them in the process. “GODS DAMN YOU!” She screeched, which sent Martin reeling as the voice of a goddess knocked him head over heels off his chair and onto his ass. “I’m gonna be stuck here for eternity at this point if I don't get this sorted out and….YOU!” Mal accused, pointing a finger in Martin’s direction.

Martin righted himself but was reasonably terrified when faced down with an overly irritated goddess.

“You didn’t see anything right? Ha ha ha! Yep…nothing. There was no accident and no souls got lost in translation! You got it!” Martin nodded sheepishly, trying to ignore the deadly ethereal glow emanating from her pointer finger. “Good, good. Well I’d love to stay and chat some more. But you got places to be, and a kingdom to save Mister…” Mal trailed off, wiping one of the stained character sheets along her robes and cringing at the heavy smudges left behind on the sheet barely keeping it legible. “Uhhmm…Destined…champion?...yes! Destined Champion! There you go, sounds good to me” she said with a frantic smile. Flicking the drenched and stained paper with her hand and sending it flying directly into Martin’s chest.

“Have fun! Matilde!” She waved, as a golden portal of light engulfed him instantly sending him hurtling through it. Martin’s eyes bulged at the strange feeling of his body undergoing a rather peculiar transformation the instant the paper hit him.

“My name’s Marrrrrtiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-!” He screamed, in an increasingly-higher pitch while being sucked down into the golden portal of light.

Which then sealed up, and left behind a golden, glowing book levitating in mid air.

“Martin?” Mal wondered, picking up the book and turning it over. She then gasped loudly when she read the title.

Matilde’s Tale, The First Cowgirl Adventurer.

“Whoops…”