You Have Selected: Violently Divine Tourism

“Alright, System,” I said, arms folded and floating dramatically in the middle of the void-now-turned-cosmos. “You dropped the bombshell that I broke the unbreakable. Gave me a body hotter than most romance anime protagonists. Now what?”

“Would you like to view the Map of Reality?”

“Oh sure,” I said casually. “Show me the world, baby.”

“Very well. Deploying: Reality.exe.”

With a sound like a microwave exploding into Gregorian chant, space itself split down the middle.

What emerged was… uh…

Well.

[REALITY MAP LOADED]

A tangled mess of glowing noodles appeared before me. Some parts glowed gold. Others blinked red. One section was literally on fire. Another was straight-up shaped like a dog. The whole thing pulsed with cosmic spaghetti energy.

“…Is that ramen?”

“No. That is the structure of all known existence.”

“Why does it look like something I’d microwave at 2 a.m.?”

“Because you lack sufficient dimensional perception to interpret it correctly.”

“Just say I’m too stupid next time, damn.”

“You are too stupid.”

“Ouch!”

I poked one of the strands.

It zapped me with a feeling best described as tax paperwork pain.

“Yeah, okay. We’re not doing this.”

I pushed the spaghetti-map aside like it was a weird pop-up ad.

“Let’s go with something easy. I wanna meet the Olympian gods.”

“Acknowledged. Opening a tear in space-time to Domain: Mount Olympus (Divine Layer).”

The void in front of me folded like origami—then tore open with the elegance of a cat ripping through toilet paper.

Through the tear, I saw—

Mount Olympus.

And holy game-breaking DLC expansion pack, it was gorgeous.

Marble spires towered above golden clouds. Waterfalls of pure starlight crashed into pools that sang. The wind sparkled. Literal sparkling wind. Like the air was made of glitter and pride.

“Okay,” I muttered, stunned. “That’s just unfairly pretty.”

“Would you like to walk through?”

I took a single step forward…

…And paused mid-air.

“…Wait. I’m in space, right? There’s no floor.”

“Correct.”

“Then how am I walking?”

“You’re cheating.”

“…Right.”

I shrugged. “Of course I am.”

Then I descended. Not floated. Descended.

As if I suddenly knew how to move in cosmic void just by deciding “Y’know what, down sounds good.”

I gently stepped onto a road made of starlight and marble, leading up the side of Mount Olympus. The rift sealed behind me with a polite zip.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Let’s meet the gods.”

The gate to Olympus was… unnecessarily majestic.

Like, think giant golden arches. But not McDonald's. Like divine, judgmental golden arches made by an architect who was allergic to subtlety.

Two guardian deities stood before it—each at least eight feet tall, radiating divine authority, wearing fancy armor made of clouds and storm metal. Their eyes glowed like judgment incarnate. Each held a divine spear that buzzed with holy code.

As I walked up, both immediately crossed their weapons and shouted in chorus:

“HALT, MORTAL ENTITY. IDENTIFY YOURSELF!”

I blinked.
Then smiled innocently. “Hi. I’m Jinrou. God of Cheating. Possibly broke your sky. Sorry about that.”

They didn’t lower the spears.

One of them narrowed their eyes. “There are no records of your domain in our logs. You are unregistered.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem,” I said. “The whole ‘every pantheon rejected me’ thing. So now I’m freelancing.”

“You are unauthorized to enter Olympus!”

“Yeah, but like… I already did,” I pointed out.

“LEAVE IMMEDIATELY OR FACE DIVINE FORCE!”

I sighed. “Look, guys, I don’t wanna fight.”

Then I got an idea.

A wonderfully, terribly stupid idea.

I grinned.

“Hey,” I said, looking at their spears. “What’s the floral policy around here?”

“…What?”

I snapped my fingers.

The divine spears instantly turned into bouquets of sunflowers, tulips, and oddly enough, one very confused cactus.

The guardians blinked.

“…Did you just turn our divine weapons into flowers?!”

I gave them finger guns. “Botany.exe activated.”

The air tensed.

Their auras flared.
Their fists clenched.
The bigger one threw down the cactus.

“You dare mock Olympus?!”

“I mean, kind of? But like, politely.”

The two were about to leap at me—actual godly fists raised—when—

“Enough.”

A voice rang out. Smooth. Commanding. Young—but eternal.

The kind of voice that made your ears stop what they were doing and just listen.

Descending the grand staircase behind the gates came a girl. No—a goddess.

She looked about nineteen, dressed in elegant divine robes with galaxy-threaded silk, golden earrings that glowed like small suns, and hair like liquid twilight. Her eyes sparkled not with power, but judgment. Not cruelty—but command.

She was beautiful. In a way that wasn’t just visual.
She felt… correct. Like she was made to be obeyed.

She stepped between me and the guards. The guardians immediately knelt, heads bowed.

She looked me over.

“You’re the glitch.”

I raised a hand. “Name’s Jinrou. God of Cheating. Nice sandals.”

She didn’t smile.

“You bypassed the divine ban.”

I looked up at the sky.

Where the heavens were still cracked.

Still fractured.

Still torn like broken glass.

I pointed at it.

Grinned.

“The ban ain’t shit.”

For a moment, no one said anything.

The sky crackled softly above, like thunder trying to remember its lines. The guardians were frozen, halfway between duty and total existential confusion. Hera stood there, arms crossed, eyes sharp as divine scissors.

Me?

I was trying really hard not to smirk.

“You broke a multi-pantheon divine firewall,” Hera said, voice low and dangerous.

“I lightly tapped it,” I said, now examining my fingernails. “With, you know… existence.”

“That firewall was coded by the Supreme Architect of the Celestial Accord.”

“Was he a bug?” I asked. “Because I squash those.”

One of the guardians let out a gasp so dramatic it echoed.

Hera's eyebrow twitched. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Wrong!” I pointed. “I’m taking this very seriously. I haven’t even spawned snacks yet.”

I paused.

That gave me an idea.

Ding!

[You have activated: Item.Spawn()]
Item: “Ultimate Godly Nachos”
Status: Crispy, Divine, Extra Cheese

A floating plate of golden nachos—literally glowing—appeared in my hand. Topped with molten stardust cheese and eldritch guac.

I took a bite.

Hera stared.

“Are you eating holy food… in front of the Gates of Olympus?”

“Want one?” I offered her a glowing chip.

She slapped it out of my hand.

The chip hit the ground. Exploded. Created a small crater.

“…That was spicy,” I muttered.

“You’re insane,” she said.

“I’ve been dead five minutes and I’m already banned from Heaven,” I replied. “You gotta be a little unhinged.”

She sighed like someone trying really hard not to punch a kitten. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to visit Olympus,” I said. “Check out the interior decorating. Maybe grab Poseidon’s autograph.”

“He doesn’t give autographs.”

“Oh?”

I snapped my fingers.

Ding!

[You have spawned: Poseidon’s Trident (Hyperverse Gear)]
Status: Wet. Sassy. Overcompensating.

In my hand appeared a massive golden trident, humming with ancient water magic, tidal force, and the distinct energy of “steals the spotlight in family reunions.”

I held it up like a tourist holding a selfie stick.

“Say cheese!”

Hera's jaw dropped. “How—how did you summon that?!”

“I cheated,” I said casually. “It’s kind of my thing.”

“That’s Hyperverse Gear!”

“Oh? Is that rare?”

She looked like she was going to implode. “That takes mortals millennia of trials to obtain!”

“Yeah, well, I speedran the tutorial.”

I tossed the trident in the air.

It hovered, then turned into a dolphin, gave me a high five with its fin, and warped out of existence.

Even I didn’t know how I did that.

Hera pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re a menace.”

“Cute menace,” I corrected. “Very stylish too. Check the hair.”

I flicked my newly-reincarnated locks. They shimmered. Somewhere, a choir sang.

“Why did every pantheon reject you?” she asked, dead serious now.

I actually paused.

“…I don’t think they got it,” I said, voice a bit softer. “My powers. My interface. My… existence. It’s too different. Too digital. Too… cheat-y.”

“Cheat-y.”

“Listen, they called me a bug. A virus. A walking exploit.”

“…You are.”

“But I’m also fun at parties,” I added helpfully.

She crossed her arms again, watching me closely. “And now what? You want to crash every god’s front door?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I want to build something better.”

She tilted her head.

“A new pantheon,” I said. “My own. Not full of rule-followers and snooty deities arguing over wine flavor. I want weirdos. Rebels. Monsters. Saints. Devils. Mortals who broke the mold. Gods who never fit the system.”

“…You’re trying to recruit from within Olympus?”

I shrugged. “Not gonna lie—it’d be funny.”

She turned slowly toward the guardians. “Alert the council. And… someone warn Dionysus not to offer this one a drink.”

The two guardians bowed and dashed off, one still carrying his flower-bouquet like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Hera looked at me again.

And, against all odds—

She smiled.

It was small. But it was there.

“…You’re trouble.”

“Certified and gift-wrapped.”

“Fine,” she said. “You get five minutes.”

I blinked. “To do what?”

“To walk Olympus. See what kind of gods you’d be stealing from.”

I grinned. “I like your style, Queenie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Noted, Que—”

“Don’t.”

And just like that, the golden gates of Olympus swung open with a sound like a harp strumming the void.

A dozen gods peered down from the staircases. Some raised eyebrows. Some summoned weapons. One in the back waved a beer.

I stepped forward, shoes glowing slightly on the celestial tiles.

“Let’s see what heaven looks like up close,” I said.

And then I tripped over the threshold.

Face first.

Into a divine fruit cart.

Fruits everywhere.

“YOU FOOL—THAT WAS SACRED NECTARINE!”

“…I can explain,” I said, voice muffled by divine banana.