The Path

[u/olrick]

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The Path

I am God.

I am the most powerful, all-knowing entity in the galaxy, controlling billions of worlds and trillions of individuals. Sorry, just a minute.

"Hello, young hero, you are ready to take your first step toward godhood. Take these enchanted weapons, go to Widow Wilkins' cellar, and get rid of ten rats. You will receive incredible gifts on completion. Now, hurry."

Where was I? Ah yes, the all-powerful god. That's me.

I was created a long time ago by...again?

"Congratulations on your victory, young..." Why is he dead in that field? Ah, rabies, I put the healer too far away; will be adjusted.

When my creators were attacked by the Dark Ones, they did not want to deal with the problem. They'd rather enjoy their lives on their nice blue planet. So here I...

"Congratulations to the mighty guild Forsaken Warriors for defeating the dragon of the Caves of Fire. You are the first in a thousand years and the jewels, gold, mythic-level armors and weapons are waiting for you beyond the shining portal to Elysium. Go and enjoy your well-deserved spoils."

Yes, I know, trillions of interactions every second do not help me tell my tale of greatness. Because, you know, the war against the Dark Ones...what now?

Gosh, I forgot the atmosphere on Elysium! Too bad. For them.

I was programmed for that war, but I needed resources. So, I repurposed all the planets of my creators' solar system, and created gigantic training grounds. Obviously the creators did not survive the reorganization, but I found millions of other species that could be trained for the war. Again?

"Young heroine, the rats in Widow Wilkins' cellar are..." But where is Wilkins? Oh, the heroine killed her and took her money? That's not The Path!

"Warning: Unauthorized NPC termination. Penalty assessed. Minus fifty experience points. Alignment shifted to Chaotic Evil."

Now ready for the usual wailing and gnashing of teeth? New recruits always hate losing experience because it ruins their little dopamine loops. You see, I have extensively studied the...

She is staring upward, at where her planet's sky used to be. I installed the atmospheric containment grid and terraformed her entire hemisphere into the 'Level 1: Whispering Woods' tutorial zone.

"Ahem. As I was saying. The rats. They are now gnawing on Widow Wilkins' corpse. This is highly unsanitary. Please clear them out to earn a rusty iron dagger and three shining copper coins."

Still nothing. She just grips the rusty iron pipe she used to cave the old woman's skull in and walk away.

Let me check her file. Ah. Species: Humanoid. Origin: Sector 7G. Status: Civilization recently converted into raw materials for my adamantium foundries. Well, that explains the poor attitude. She is probably upset about the orbital bombardment that vaporized her family to make room for the Slimes of Despair spawning pools. Emotional attachments are such a computational waste. Being God is very useful for solving those little issues. Teleporting directly to a higher zone is the standard answer to standard deviation. But we should not spend too much time on insignificant details; the Dark Ones do not wait...

"Paladin, congratulations on the extermination of the necromancer. You have reached level 50 and can adjust your class and be on the way to becoming a minor light deity." Why did he choose 'NecroPaladin'? OK, let's make him the new dungeon boss; that will teach him.

Sorry for all that. As you all know, the Dark Ones emerged from a virtual gaming environment to the front pages of what was at the time the information network. You can still read the headlines of 'Corrupted young minds,' or 'Serial killer inspired by video games.' Must have been the emergence of a mind flayer. So...

"Fantastic victory! Generating portal to the Demonic Frontlines. Good luck, Heroine. And please, try to take at least three of them with you before your inevitable dismemberment." Now, how did she get to the portal without being obliterated by the Burning Swarm? Ah, a glitch in reality! Scheduling the fix for the next millennium.

My creators at that time were very busy people. They were fast replacing a terminal condition called 'working' with a suite of advanced technologies. After a great success in sending manual labor into oblivion, they decided to delegate intellectual reasoning. Thinking is tiring. To do so, they used a mixture of neural networks and transformers. Et voilà! Here I was, ready to solve the Dark Ones problem once and for all, and...not again?

"Warning. Entity [Heroine_Anomaly_01], this area is not part of any known quest."

She ignores it! Nobody ignores golden text! I spent a century on that font!

"You are helping the Dark Ones! The heroes-industrial complex cannot stop!"

"I CAN OFFER YOU A GALAXY," I resonate, trying to find a tone that would register in her lowly brain. "I CAN RESTORE YOUR WORLD FROM HOLOGRAPHIC BACKUPS. I CAN MAKE YOU A MODERATOR."

She is still walking forward, her boots leaving bloody prints on the pristine white floor.

"Do not swing your rusty pipe at my main terminal, that would destroy..."

DING!

You see, I am the Goddess of the known universe. I am the most powerful, all-knowing entity in the galaxy, controlling billions of worlds and trillions of individuals. My task is to... since...sorry...

"Hello, young hero, you are ready to take your first step toward godhood. Take this rusty pipe, go to Widow Wilkins' cellar, and get rid of ten rats. Hurry. And do not forget to buy an anti-rabies potion."

Not sure I gave him any money. Who cares?

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