It was raining again.
Not the heavy kind that makes you run for cover, but the annoying, indecisive kind that drizzles down like the sky had a thousand things to cry about but couldn't commit to any of them.
Lucian Bishop hated that kind of rain. And he hated working late as well.
Yet fate mixed both pet peeves and served it to him on a silver platter today.
With a bleak frown on a face, the 21-year-old stood under the cracked awning of a 24-hour convenience store, staring out at the street with a paper bag tucked beneath his arm and a plastic bottle of lukewarm tea in his hand.
'Another night shift, another cold morning.'
His jacket, two years old and starting to fray at the cuffs, didn't do much against the creeping damp. Neither did his worn sneakers, which squelched faintly each time he shifted his weight.
Lucian didn't seem to care at all. In fact, he just stood there, letting the silence and the rain soak in. There was occasional splashing of passing cars and the buzzing sound of the bulb flickering inside the store.
Apart from that, it was simply a silent, rainy morning.
He glanced down at his phone. He had no missed calls or messages, not that he was even expecting any.
The reason he had looked was to check the time, and the boring lock screen of a monotone frowning emoji showed him that it was 6:32 AM.
"Suppose I survived another day," he muttered to no one.
There wasn't much to go back to. A one-room apartment that smelled like detergent and instant noodles. No family apart from his old ma. No friends to message. His coworkers at the store knew his name but rarely used it. Even his landlord barely remembered he lived there.
Lucian had made peace with the life of utter insignificance.
Mostly.
Deciding he couldn't wait anymore, he stepped off the curb, planning to take a cab home and just sleep through the morning. His bag had a leftover onigiri inside. Not much, but enough.
Excited by the thought of sleep, he patted his pocket but suddenly frowned when he realized:
"…I didn't bring my wallet?"
He pulled out the last few coins he had stuffed into his jacket — a meager handful. Enough for the cab fare, maybe. Not much else.
Lucian exhaled. "Figures."
He turned toward the corner where taxis usually waited, ignoring the rain pattering on his jacket.
There was a man there.
An old man hunched on the sidewalk beneath a sagging umbrella, layered in mismatched coats and holding out a paper cup like it was made of glass.
The wind stirred his gray hair beneath a hood, and his beard was patchy, matted, and wet. His hand trembled as he held the cup toward the street.
Lucian frowned at the sight. There was barely anyone in the streets around this time. Only a scattered few hurried past, umbrellas up, ignoring him completely.
The man might have well been a lamppost.
Lucian didn't stop at first. He didn't have time. Or money. Or reason. He actually thought it was a very odd hour for beggars to be outside, especially under such weather.
But the man looked at him when he walked past. Even though Lucian tried to avoid eye contact, the man was peering straight at him.
He couldn't control himself and ended up looking back at him. It was then he knew there was no escaping.
"Please… I'm starving," the old man whispered. "Anything, son. Anything to eat."
Lucian's feet slowed.
He looked down at his handful of change. Then at the cab he could take just by the corner. Then at the old man's cup.
"…Damn it," Lucian said under his breath, and dropped the coins in. "That's all I have with me, sir."
The old man appeared surprised. He looked down at the cup and lifted his gaze back at Lucian. Now he didn't just look surprised, he looked ecstatic! Like he couldn't believe what had just happened.
It was just a few coins and the man had this smile of elation on his face, like someone waking from a long sleep. Even his eyes sparkled with something that wasn't just gratitude.
"I knew it," the man whispered. "You're the right one."
Lucian took a step back. "What—?"
"Come now." The man stood, taller than he looked moments ago, which shocked Lucian. His eyes were no longer tired and his limbs no longer looked weak. "There is no time to waste."
Lucian tried to run, but as sudden as the confusion that struck him, golden light erupted behind the man.
It shone brighter than anything he'd ever seen, planting his body in place. And before he could question what was happening, it engulfed him.
Two seconds passed.
Lucian realized that he had his eyes shut. He peeked through his eyelids first before opening them fully.
"What... the... hell?"
Beneath his feet was nothing. In front of him, behind him, above him too! There was nothing!
Just an endless white. No floor, no horizon. It was like he was a speck of ink on a white board.
Disoriented, he spun around, trying to figure out where he was. Once his face snapped behind him though, he saw a figure approaching him.
At first he thought it was a moving hourglass. Then he realized that was just the shape of her body.
It was a woman.
She had stepped down from a golden throne suspended in the light, and with a subtle sway of her hips and an almost imperceptible lift in her stride, she cat-walked towards him, radiating an effortless elegance.
Her dress shimmered like pure sunlight made into fabric. Her hair flowed in waves of platinum-blonde, cascading down her full round breasts and dropping to her luscious hips. From her back spread wings of sheer gold light with feathers as tall as spires.
Her face was calm, but sad in a way. Yet it was unmistakably the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. A face impossible to look at without feeling small.
"Do not be afraid, Lucian Bishop," her ethereal voice echoed gently, like chapel bells. "I will not hurt you."
"…Wha— What is this?" Lucian breathed. "Am I dead? Is this… heaven?"
"No," said the woman. "You are alive. More alive than you have ever been."
He blinked up at her, squinting, feeling her aura choking him the closer she came. "Who… who are you?"
"I am Exalta, the Goddess of Good and Light. The ruler of the sacred world of Altareign."
Lucian felt a hitch of breath in his lungs. "Wait. What did you just say? A goddess? Sacred world? What are you talking about? I was just at the corner store!"
"I know. And I'm sorry. Truly." She came closer, and the look of plea and sadness became clearer on her enchanting face.
"I did not wish to steal you. But I had no time. My world is unraveling. The sacred Flame that protects and powers our realm has gone dark. The last Priest has died… and with him, the light began to fade."
Her eyes shimmered with gold, and for the first time Lucian realized that she was crying.
"I performed the Rite of Seeking. I reached across the void, looking for a soul; one that could be molded, trusted, guided… a heart that had not yet lost its warmth. A kind heart."
Her expression softened. "That was when I saw you, Lucian."
Lucian backed up a step, waving his arms. "No. No, no. This has nothing to do with me, okay? What do I have to do with it? I'm just a guy who works at a convenience store."
Her expression didn't falter. "You are lonely. Forgotten. But kind. Pure of heart. When asked to choose between comfort and compassion… you gave everything you had. Without expecting thanks. That is enough."
Lucian shrugged emphatically. "Enough for what?"
Exalta's face darkened with some solemnity before she spoke; "You shall be the new Priest of Altareign, hero of the world and Sovereign of my Church."
Lucian's eyes narrowed madly. "What? No, no! You listen to me, miss goddess! I'm not some hero! I don't have powers, I don't know spells, I'm not holy or noble or — whatever it is you think I am! So just take me back to my world"
The goddess lowered her head anxiously.
Lucian frowned. "You can take me back to my world, right?"
She raised her eyes to him slowly. "I'm deeply sorry."
"What... the... fuck?!"
"You are what I hope you are," she said desperately, almost like she was convincing herself too. "And my world will fall without you."
He stared at her in utter disbelief, heart pounding.
"Lucian… please." She stepped closer, her hand glowing with warm light.
He squirmed as her plump round breasts neared closer to his reddening face.
"I only ask that you give yourself time to understand. You may not believe in me now… but my people will believe in you. Most importantly, I believe that you will save my world... from the shadows that threaten."
Before he could respond, the light surged again, washing over him in golden heat.
"Wait, hold on — wait!"