That Time I Conquered the Demon God!

Author's Note: This story is a slow burn — I apologize for the lengthy setup, but I promise the wait will be worth it.

Please Note: This story is intended to be experienced in game mode. Be sure to activate it before you begin.

There are plenty of customization options available to tailor the experience to your preferences, so don't forget to set them before you start. (Entirely optional, of course. But they're there if you want them!)

You wake with a gasp, the hard-packed earth pressing against your back and a smell of smoke in your nose. The truck, the traffic, the screech of brakes—all of it feels distant, unreal. You sit up, rubbing your head, and realize the world around you doesn't quite look like what you're used to. Ancient-looking trees loom in the distance, their bark silver-white and their canopies thick and rich with emerald growth. The sky above burns a blue so deep and saturated it looks painted, and nothing like the washed-out grey you commuted under every morning. The sun hangs heavy and gold, casting long amber shadows across a landscape that is definitely devoid of anything resembling asphalt or concrete. As your eyes continue to adjust, glittering catches your gaze: ornamented spires rise above a rolling hillside, hiding an elegant castle town.

You rub your eyes in disbelief. You rub them again. You take a long, slow look around as you draw deep breaths of air that smells suspiciously clean and faintly of wildflowers and other aromas you can't quite identify. Your senses join in a chorus of a bittersweet song: you're very, very, very far from home.

You look down at yourself. You're wearing a simple, worn tunic of a muted earthy tone, and trousers tucked into scuffed boots that have clearly seen better days. A leather satchel sits beside you, its strap frayed at the buckle. Inside: a few crumpled coins, a small folded note in handwriting that doesn't resemble yours, and a half-eaten piece of bread wrapped in cloth. Whoever you were before you were this, was clearly not rich. But he was real...a whole person with a life and errands and apparently somewhere to be. You feel a faint ghost of their routine sitting behind your eyes like a dream you can't quite remember. His hands are your hands now. His debts, probably, are your debts now. You pocket the note and the coins both, and try not to think too hard about the person who used to live here.

For a moment, you feel as if you've been hit by a—that's right! You...died...didn't you? Trying to save someone else from dying. Well, virtue wasn't exactly it's own reward, huh? Your emotions stir into a thick, heavy brew as thoughts of your life—your friends, your family, everyone you knew—exist now only as reflections. Distant memories.

You sit for a while.

You stare at the sky, thankful that you at least don't have to go into work on Monday. Or ever again, for that matter. What day is it even? Hell if you'd know.

You **** yourself up with a smirk.

Most people might start by going on a hunt for information. Not you, though. You've seen enough isekai anime to clock what's going on here: you've been transported to a magical fantasy world. Surely you're the chosen one, destined to save these lands from whatever tragedy has or will devastate them. Or maybe you have some hidden, overpowered skills just waiting to be awakened. There's got to be at least a legendary weapon only you can wield lying around somewhere, right? None of this could be simple cosmic accident. Easy mode unlocked. Life will be a cakewalk from here. And hey, maybe you'll even find a doting noble charmed by your pedestrian charm. Well, what the heck are you waiting for?

You sit cross-legged, running through everything you know about how these scenarios usually go. If this is anything like the isekais you've seen, there should be video game-esque elements—most importantly, some way to access your stats and inventory. You focus your eyes, hunting for a floating user interface somewhere in your field of vision. Nothing. Maybe you need to open it first? No harm in trying. You psyche yourself up and try to will a glowing stat menu into existence. Try as you might, you can't help but feel a little giddy about what you're probably working with. Strength? Maxed. Speed? Obviously maxed. Charisma? I mean, look at you, you're practically irresistible. You try every approach you can think of: waving your hands like a conductor, counting down in your head and dramatically gesturing open a menu, even attempting to meditate and "sense" your latent powers. Still, nothing happens.

Minutes pass, full of trial and exclusively error. Finally, with a frustrated flourish, you shout. You recline back on the ground. Maybe the randomness of the universe didn't serendipitously coalesce into a tailor-made power fantasy. Maybe it's all just a dying hallucination...your brain's last, **** attempt at a good story before the lights go out. You close your eyes eyes with a heavy sigh.

"Wait! I'm almost there!"

You jump up with a jolt. "Hello?" you shout. "Hello? Is someone out here?" you aimlessly call out again. You swear the foliage stares back in amusement. As you scan your surrounding, you still hear echoes of that voice, almost as if it's ringing inside of your head.

Before your confusion can fully settle in, you black out with a thump.

"Please, please, please wake up!"

The crisp slap of a glove catches your cheek before you can even process the words. Your body gets shaken roughly enough to rattle your teeth, and somewhere between the second and third jostle, you manage a grimace and a groan.

"You're alive! Thank the Creators!"

Your eyes crack open and your vision focuses toward the sight of a magnificent form. The first thing you notice is the light: soft, warm, and emanating from all around her. Her long blonde hair cascades over ornate white and gold armor, framing a face wearing the most earnest expression you've ever seen in your life. A fair complexion dusted with a natural rose at the cheeks, slightly full lips pressed together in visible anxiety. She is young, perhaps no older than her mid-twenties, and striking in a way that makes it briefly difficult to think. Wide, sky-blue eyes scan you up and down with a pleading intensity you genuinely can't parse. The armor does its best to be modest, but does little to disguise the soft, rounded curves of the figure beneath it—clearly not a soldier's build. Her golden-trimmed gloves are clasped together mid-prayer...which would be touching if she hadn't just slapped you awake with one of them. Above her head wobbles a dimly lit halo that you swear sits slightly crooked.

"...Uh, who are you?" You ask flatly, trying to mask the flush of your cheeks. As you regain composure (and the soreness kicks in), annoyance settles over you. "And why did you land on me? Also, how?"

"Well, I didn't mean to! I was rushing, and I couldn't slowdown in time. I thought it'd hurt less than just hitting the ground." She said, as if it were a perfectly reasonable defense. "It was honestly still pretty painful. You could use a little more meat on your bones, if you ask me."

You stare at her with an eyebrow cocked in incredulity. "Right." You sit up slowly, brushing dirt off your sleeve. "So, uh. Who are you, exactly?"

She blinks, then immediately lights up like you've just asked her favorite question, which, judging by the way she snaps upright and clasps her hands together, you actually might have.

"I'm Lisandra!" she announces proudly. "Divine Companion, First Class, assigned by the Creators themselves to guide and protect you on your journey through this world!" She beams. Her halo wobbles a bit.

You stare at her. "...Divine Companion." You say.

"—First Class," she adds helpfully.

"And you landed on me."

She falters—just slightly. "I said I didn't mean to."

A long silence settles between you and this celestial escort apparently assigned to your survival. Somewhere in the trees, a bird calls out. The golden sun glints off her immaculate armor.

"Great," you say finally. "That's just great. I still have quite a few questions that I would love answers to, starting with why you landed on me."

"Ah! Well, I was following you, of course. From your world. The latent magic of this world makes physical manifestation considerably easier for beings such as myself, so that's why you've never—"

"You followed me?" You interrupt in confusion.

"It was the will of the Creators." She folds her hands together with a gracious smile. "I had a small hand in certain...complications surrounding your departure from there and your subsequent arrival here, and they felt it was only proper that I escort you personally. Their words were something to the effect of...What was it? Uh..."cleaning up one's own mess," I believe."

You rub your face. This conversation is only producing more questions.

"To elaborate," she continues, "you weren't, strictly speaking, meant to die when you did. Your passing was scheduled for quite a bit further along. To be of natural causes, if I remember correctly. I may have....overreacted a bit and moved things along prematurely when you were hit." She tilts her head. "Which is also why you are the particular you that you are at present, rather than the you that you were meant to be. The timings got a little tangled. Hehe."

You stare at her. "So you're like a...Grim Reaper that's terrible at her job."

Lisandra blinks. "I'm not entirely certain what that is." She pauses. "It sounds vaguely familiar...I was meant to study your world before I was charged to you back then, but....well." She waves a hand. "The point is, you arrived, didn't you? In one piece, more or less." She brightens considerably. "Think of me as a soul escort. It is my charge to shepherd worthy souls from one life into the next. Good souls like yours are rather finite, you understand, so the Creators prefer to see them put to good use across multiple lives." Her expression takes on something genuinely warm. "Yours qualified."

You sigh deeply and look back up at the sky. Thoughts swim around in your head as you process everything Lisandra has told you. Can you really trust it all? To be fair, this whole situation is pretty extraordinary, so you don't find many reasons not to. If it's true, though—it's a lot to digest, even after everything you already grieved when you first woke up. "So," you say, "I wasn't supposed to go yet?" Your eyes wander across the brilliant blue blanket above you, searching for acceptance. "And there's no way back at this point, right?" You pause, hoping Lisandra will correct you, but the look on her face sinks with the weight of a cold, hard truth. And there it is, a possibility you had feared, but held out hope wouldn't be a reality. You preferred this to be a temporary departure; a fantastical detour you just needed to see through. That your home and everyone you knew weren't totally gone. That there was a door back home somewhere, and that there was some contract or expectation you just needed to satisfy to open it.

Lisandra opens her mouth, closes it. Your face falls. "I'm sorry, Mom. Dad. Everyone. I'm sorry I left so soon." A long silence settles. Lisandra's brow creases, her eyes sliding off in search of anything she can find that isn't your gaze. She pauses as she fidgets with her gloves. "Well," she says finally, very quietly, "it wasn't exactly supposed to go like this."

The air is empty as her words, but you're too overwhelmed to even react. Birds in the distance generously offer you both a distraction from the silence.

No going back, this is it. It's unfair, but that's life, right? At least you're still alive.

Your gaze returns to the ground, before shifting to the horizon with a small nod. "Well, so what now? I still have a shit ton of questions, but I don't know what good getting the answers would do right now. Let's just focus on what's in front of us," you say. Lisandra's eyes light up with a mixture of excitement and a hint of relief. "Ah! Well, this will cheer you up—Now," she declares, producing a small, glowing card from seemingly nowhere and pressing it into your hands, "we check your stats!"

"My stats?" You responded in a half-daze. "Like, video game stats? I fucking knew this was an isekai!" You say, as hope slowly washes over your bubbling despair. At least can finally see what you're working with.

"Precisely!" she chirps. You look at her quizzically. Somehow, out of everything she was supposed to have studied about your world and apparently didn't, she knows about video games and anime. It tracks. You shake your head with slight amusement.

You return your attention to the card. It isn't hot or cold, and it almost feels weightless in your hands. You try to handle it delicately for fear of somehow damaging it, but the longer you hold it, the less certain you feel like you're actually holding on to anything. But strange as these sensations are, in your hands it sits, as you search its radiance for a hint of what you're supposed to do with it.

"Just focus on it," Lisandra interrupts. "Think about yourself."

"I did that already and it didn't help."

"Just try," she pleads.

You sigh. You focus on the strange artifact in your hands, staring into it's luminous depths. The card dims until a porcelain like slate remains, and then the numbers slowly appear.

STRENGTH: 2/99,999; AGILITY: 10/99,999; INTELLIGENCE: 20/99,999; CONSTITUTION: 5/99,999; CHARISMA: 0/99,999

You blink. Twice. Lisandra excitedly joins you at your side, as she, too, pauses to take in the information in front of you. "Ah, they must still be loading due to your stats being so high!" Lisandra optimistically suggests. "Oh, right. Of course." you say with a awkward chuckle. You investigate every inch of the card: flipping it around, shaking it, even bending it. No change. "Hmm." Lisandra says with more confusion than you'd like to hear right now. You shake it again with more desperation.

Your Strength stat suddenly starts glowing. Both of your eyes light up and you wait with bated breath.

Lisandra looks you over with a fawning gaze. "Super strength? How magnificent! That's why you made for a stiff landing! All that muscle!" she says, slapping your arm playfully. You giggle with her, your smile full of joy and relief. The card resets, and text pops up:

*SYSTEM CORRECTION*: STRENGTH (-1)

(2/99,999 →→→ 1/99,999)

You both stare in silence. "You've got to be kidding me." You say in disbelief. All that you had left—the hope for a grandiose hero fantasy—collapses instantly. No legendary sword, no hidden power, not even a basic combat advantage. Just a Charisma score of zero staring back at you adding insult to injury. "So," you say slowly. "Zero charisma."

"It's— well—" Lisandra visibly winces. "It's not zero zero, it's just...it's probably just a very, very low number!"

"It's zero, Lisandra."

"Charisma is honestly the least important stat in most—"

"I have zero Charisma, Lisandra."

She pauses. "You have a very honest face?" she offers.

You stare at the card for a long, quiet moment. Then, somewhere beneath the humiliation, disappointment, and grief, something shifts. No cheat codes. No legendary destiny. Just you—and apparently the social magnetism of a rock.

You pocket the card, as your eyes drag themselves up past Lisandra. "I keep waiting to hit the bottom," you say quietly. "Like, at some point, it has to stop getting worse." You exhale slowly. Lisandra looks stricken. You wave her off. "Relax. I'm not being poetic about giving up." You roll your shoulders back and continue. "But if it doesn't, if I'm just going to keep falling, then fine. I'll fall. And I'll claw my way back up with these two useless hands and zero Charisma."

Lisandra smiles affectionately. Sensing the tide turning, she claps her hands together. "We should start by enrolling you in the Adventurer's Guild, if you, or they, aren't already. It's just down the hill, I can show you the way!" She says excitedly, but pauses when she notices you staring at her halo.

"What about that? Is it okay for you to wander around with that on?" You ask genuinely.

Lisandra jumps. "Ah! No, it certainly wouldn't be. Mortals in this world might mistake me for...Uh, what do they call it? Oh, an angel!" She replies. You cock your eyebrow in amusement as she grabs her halo, and brings it down in front of her. With her hands holding it up, it disperses into a mist of light.

"Now, follow me!" She says cheerfully.