The Universe Has a Terrible Sense of Humour

Interdimensional travel feels a lot like being pulled inside-out through your own nose while simultaneously having every cell in your body rearranged by a toddler with questionable artistic skills. Not recommended for those with motion sickness, dignity, or any attachment to the laws of physics.

When the cosmic taffy-pull finally ended, I found myself sprawled face-first on a cool marble floor, my stomach doing somersaults that would impress Olympic gymnasts.

"Finally," sighed an exasperated feminine voice. "The runner arrives."

I peeled my cheek off the floor and looked up. Seated in a semi-circle of twelve ornate thrones were what could only be described as deities; female in appearance, inhumanly beautiful, and radiating annoyance like space heaters of divine frustration.

"Do you have any idea," said one with hair that cascaded like liquid moonlight, "how much energy we expended catching you?"

"Fifty-one circles," grumbled another whose skin shimmered with constellations. "For one human."

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, noting with relief that my muscle pain from yesterday had vanished. Interdimensional travel: bad for digestion, good for lactic acid buildup.

"In my defence," I said, straightening my Paradise Heights uniform, "most people don't respond well to being hunted by magical teleportation circles."

"Most people don't make us deploy fifty-one summoning circles," countered a deity whose eyes contained actual galaxies. "The average is two, maybe three if they're distracted."

I managed to stand, feeling oddly light despite my recent cosmic tumble. "So, you're saying I set a record?"

Twelve pairs of eyes narrowed simultaneously.

"He's proud of it," muttered one whose hair seemed to be made of living flame.

"Typical mortal," sighed another with skin that shifted between various precious metals.

The deity seated on the central throne, her crown floating several inches above her head, leaned forward. "You were the final summon in a batch of fifty. The other forty-nine required forty-nine circles. You alone required fifty-one."

"I'm an overachiever," I shrugged. "But wait, forty-nine circles? There were only two circles used. One for the forty-eight in class, and another for Naomi-san that was summoned in her home."

The twelve deities exchanged glances that clearly communicated: "Is he for real?"

"Each summoning circle," Crown-Floaty explained with the patience of someone addressing a particularly dense child, "can only be used once. We deities simply cast new circles instantly after each use. To the untrained mortal eye, it appears as one circle summoning many, when in fact it is many circles cast in rapid succession."

"Right. Divine technicalities," I muttered. "So, is this the part where you explain I've been chosen for some grand destiny to save your world from the demon lord?"

"We," intoned Crown-Floaty with gravitas that suggested she'd practised in a mirror, "are the deities of Voluptaria, the realm to which you have been summoned."

I waited for more, but apparently that was the extent of their introduction.

"And you all have names, or...?"

"Our individual identities are irrelevant to your purpose," stated Moonlight-Hair dismissively.

"You may address us collectively as the deities of Voluptaria," added Galaxy-Eyes.

"That won't get confusing at all," I muttered.

"We heard that," they said in perfect unison, which was both impressive and deeply unsettling.

"So, is this how you actually look?" I asked, gesturing vaguely at their forms. "Or are you just appearing this way for my benefit?"

"We can take any form we wish," said Metal-Skin. "This manifestation is merely what we deemed appropriate for this interaction."

"Although," added Flame-Hair with an amused smile, "most humans forget our appearances shortly after meeting us."

"Until they see our statues in Voluptaria," clarified Crown-Floaty. "Then they remember, 'Oh yes, that's what they looked like.'"

"Convenient," I remarked. "So, why am I here? Why are any of us here?"

"The reasons are many and complex," said Galaxy-Eyes vaguely.

"In the meantime," continued Crown-Floaty, "we must prepare you for life in Voluptaria. As a summoned individual, you are entitled to selections that will help you navigate our world."

A glowing panel materialised in the air before me; a semi-transparent screen filled with text in a language I'd never seen before but somehow understood perfectly.

"Each arrival to Voluptaria receives fifty selection points to distribute as they see fit," explained a deity whose skin was covered in moving runes. "Some selections cost more points than others, depending on their utility and power."

My gamer instincts immediately kicked into high gear. This was it—the classic isekai character build moment. With the right choices, I could become ridiculously overpowered and breeze through whatever quests this world threw at me.

I scanned the list eagerly. It was filled with impressive options: Accelerated Learning, Blood Fury, Beast Companion, Arcane Focus... I felt like a kid in a sweet shop. These were the exact kind of overpowered skills that protagonists always get in these situations!

"I'll take Blood Fury, Beast Companion, and—" I began, already planning my unstoppable build.

"Oh," interrupted Moonlight-Hair, not sounding particularly apologetic, "we should clarify that most of these selections have already been claimed."

I paused mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, what?"

"First come, first served," explained Metal-Skin with a shrug. "As the fiftieth arrival, many selections have been depleted from the available pool. Your forty-nine compatriots have already made their choices."

"That's not how this works," I protested, feeling my isekai protagonist dreams crumbling before my eyes. "I'm supposed to get unique, overpowered abilities that let me break the rules of your world!"

"Perhaps if you hadn't spent so much time running away from summoning circles," suggested Rune-Skin pointedly, "you might have had more options."

I crossed my arms. "Let me guess, my classmates got all the good stuff? All two thousand four hundred and fifty points worth?"

Crown-Floaty waved her hand, and the selection list shimmered. Most of the options faded to grey, leaving only a pitiful selection still visible:

REMAINING SELECTIONS:

I stared at the list in horrified disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Fifty points," reminded Crown-Floaty. "Choose wisely."

"Wisely? WISELY?" I gestured frantically at the list. "The most useful selection here might be 'Lone Wolf', and that's only if I squint. And is that... is that literally just rope? Am I spending valuable points on equipment I could probably just buy at a store?"

"The rope is quite sturdy," offered Flame-Hair. "It supports up to 300 kilograms."

"And 'Wooden Puppet Skill' could be quite entertaining," added a deity whose tears fell upward.

"Great," I deadpanned. "I'll be the cleanest ventriloquist with really nice rope in history. The demon lord will surrender immediately."

"Your attitude isn't helping," observed Galaxy-Eyes.

"Nor is your selection list!" I countered. "What exactly is 'Personal Privacy' supposed to do?"

"It creates a sense of disinterest in others examining your belongings," explained Rune-Skin.

"And 'Grudge Sense'?"

"You feel a vague direction toward people who have wronged you," she clarified.

"So, I get a completely unreliable revenge compass? Fantastic."

"'Basic Item Identification' allows you to determine the most obvious feature of simple items you hold," offered Metal-Skin.

"So, it tells me that a chair is for sitting and water is wet? Revolutionary."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache forming. "Look, I understand I'm late to the party, but these selections are objectively terrible. You have to see that."

The twelve deities exchanged glances. I sensed a silent conversation happening way above my paygrade.

"Perhaps we should review these options more carefully," suggested Crown-Floaty.

For the next several minutes, the pantheon and I went through each remaining selection, attempting to find some hidden utility. The exercise quickly devolved into increasingly ridiculous scenarios.

"'Perfect Balance' would prevent you from falling if someone tries to push you over," offered Upward-Tears.

"A common occurrence in fantasy worlds, I'm sure," I replied dryly.

"'Heightened Dust Perception' could help you spot secret passages by dust disruption patterns," suggested Flame-Hair.

"Or drive me insane by making me see every dust particle in existence."

"'Clothing Organisation' would keep your inventory tidy during long journeys," Metal-Skin didn't sound convinced even as she said it.

By the time we finished, even the deities looked embarrassed.

"We did not anticipate needing to summon so many at once," admitted Crown-Floaty. "The selection pool was designed for perhaps twenty chosen ones, not fifty."

"Two thousand four hundred and fifty points of good selections, gone," muttered Galaxy-Eyes. "I told you we should have expanded the options."

"These truly are... suboptimal choices," admitted Moonlight-Hair with a sigh.

"That's one way to put it," I agreed. "I'm especially concerned that you're charging actual points for a length of rope."

Another divine conference ensued, with much ethereal whispering and meaningful glances.

"We have reached a decision," announced Crown-Floaty finally. "As compensation for the... unfortunate selection situation, we shall grant you ALL remaining selections at no point cost."

I blinked. "All of them? For free?"

"It's not as though any combination would provide a significant advantage," said Galaxy-Eyes with a shrug. "Consider it a divine consolation prize."

"Great," I said, trying to sound grateful rather than sarcastic. "I'll be unstoppable with my perfectly folded clothes, unbreakable fingernails, and apparently marketable rope. The demon lord won't know what hit him."

"Your attitude could use some adjustment," observed Metal-Skin.

Before I could retort, golden light enveloped me. A strange tingling sensation spread throughout my body as thirty-eight dubious selections were magically downloaded into my being.

"The process is complete," declared Crown-Floaty. "You now possess all available selections."

I patted myself down, not feeling noticeably different except for the weight of a coiled rope that had apparently materialised on my belt. "So, I'm now... what? A master of mundane conveniences with premium mountaineering equipment?"

"Among other things," confirmed Flame-Hair.

"I should probably take a photo of these down," I muttered, reaching into my pocket. "No way I'll remember thirty-eight different ways to be underwhelming in a fantasy world."

As I pulled out my smartphone, the entire pantheon suddenly went silent. Twelve pairs of divine eyes widened in perfect synchronisation.

"What is that device?" asked Moonlight-Hair, leaning forward on her throne.

I glanced down at my phone. "This? It's just a smartphone."

"Smart... phone?" repeated Rune-Skin, sounding out the unfamiliar word.

"You know, for communication, information, entertainment..." I trailed off as I realised they genuinely had no idea what I was holding.

The deities exchanged confused glances.

"We have communication crystals in Voluptaria," said Galaxy-Eyes. "But they are large, stationary objects that require significant magical power."

"And this fits in your pocket?" Upward-Tears looked genuinely impressed.

I couldn't help but smile at their bewilderment. For all their cosmic power, they were completely baffled by basic technology.

"Here, let me show you," I said, unlocking the screen.

The collective gasp from twelve divine beings was something I'll treasure forever.

"It contains light!" exclaimed Metal-Skin.

"And responds to touch!" added Flame-Hair.

For the next twenty minutes, I gave the pantheon of Voluptaria a crash course in 21st-century mobile technology. They were fascinated by everything: the camera ("You can capture moments with perfect accuracy?"), the calculator ("Mathematics without scrolls or abacus?"), the music player ("Melodies contained in such a small space?").

"And this," I explained, opening a video app, "lets you watch moving images with sound."

I tried to play a saved clip, but a "No Network Connection" error appeared.

"Ah, right," I sighed. "No Wi-Fi in the divine realm. Shocker."

"What is this 'network'?" asked Crown-Floaty, frowning.

"It's a system that connects devices together, letting them share information, communicate over distances, that sort of thing. Without it, some features don't work."

The twelve deities conferred silently again, then Crown-Floaty raised her hand. With a casual gesture, she plucked something invisible from the air and pressed it into my phone.

Immediately, my signal bars filled, and the video began playing; a clip of my old cat knocking items off my desk with deliberate malice.

The pantheon erupted in delighted laughter.

"The small creature is so purposeful in its destruction!" chuckled Rune-Skin.

"It knows exactly what it's doing!" agreed Galaxy-Eyes.

"Show us more of this marvel," requested Crown-Floaty.

I obliged, demonstrating various apps: maps, web browsers, online marketplaces, streaming services. With each new revelation, their fascination grew.

"This small device contains access to the knowledge of your entire world," marvelled Moonlight-Hair.

"And entertainment," added Flame-Hair. "And communication capabilities."

"And cat videos," I reminded them, which earned another round of divine giggles.

"We have reached another decision," announced Crown-Floaty after yet another silent conference. "Your device shall retain its full functionality within Voluptaria."

"Wait, really?" I asked, surprised.

"Its power shall never diminish," declared Upward-Tears. "It shall not require what you called... charging."

"And its connection to this 'network' shall remain unbroken," added Galaxy-Eyes.

"Furthermore," continued Rune-Skin, "should you somehow acquire a newer version of this device in our world, these blessings shall transfer to it, and the previous one shall lose its enhancements."

I raised an eyebrow. "How exactly would I get a new phone model in a fantasy world?"

The twelve goddesses smiled mysteriously in perfect unison, which was both impressive and slightly unnerving.

"The cosmos works in mysterious ways," said Crown-Floaty cryptically.

"Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "This will actually be incredibly useful."

"More useful than 'Heightened Dust Perception,' certainly," agreed Metal-Skin with what might have been a wink.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. "What about the others who were summoned? My classmates and... Naomi-san, the mother of two of my classmates?"

"All have been transported to Voluptaria," confirmed Crown-Floaty.

"Naomi-san has already been sent to somewhere where we place the others," added Moonlight-Hair. "She selected some rather... interesting selections."

That sparked a whole new set of concerns. What would Naomi-san consider useful selections in a fantasy world? And what had my classmates chosen? I was about to ask more when the chamber began to shimmer around me.

"It is time for your journey to truly begin," announced Crown-Floaty. "We have granted you selections, maintained your connection to your world's knowledge, and enhanced your natural attributes."

"Wait, enhanced my what now?" I asked.

"Farewell, Andie Ryuu," the pantheon chorused, completely ignoring my question. "May your path in Voluptaria be... entertaining."

The floor beneath me dissolved into light, and I found myself falling through space once more.

"What did you mean by 'enhanced attributes'?" I called out as the chamber receded above me.

Their only answer was divine laughter that echoed through the cosmic void.

As reality warped and twisted around me, I couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of my situation. Summoned to another world? Check. Divine encounter? Check. Special abilities? Check, if you count sock folding and bubble blowing as "special."

The cosmic punchline was that I, with all my genre savviness and expectations of becoming an overpowered protagonist, had ended up with the fantasy equivalent of participation trophies.

"If this is the universe's idea of character development," I shouted into the swirling interdimensional void, "I'd like to file a complaint with the cosmic department of narrative fairness; preferably before I have to defeat the demon lord with my premium dust perception and self-cleaning underwear!"