But before I pressed the button, I paused and looked up at the ceiling, my eyes narrowing.
"Hey, cheeky God! Just a warning..." I said, my voice dropping an octave. "If this mission includes baby-making, I am going to ascend to heaven specifically so I can punch you in the face. Got it?"
The thought alone made my skin crawl. I'd spent forty-nine lives fighting for my survival; I wasn't about to spend my fiftieth as a literal incubator.
The God remained silent. Was he too anxious to reply? Or was he busy hiding? I had no idea, but I wasn't liking the quiet.
My hands were sweating so badly I had to wipe them on my skirt before I could take a deep breath and focus on the interface.
I hovered my fingers over the stack of cards. They were beautiful, in a predatory sort of way—a galaxy design encircled by gold accents, with the symbol of Fertility etched right in the center.
The second I pressed the screen, the card spun away in a blur of motion, trailed by shooting stars. Then, a single card pulled itself from the deck and flipped over.
As I read the details, I felt the life drain out of my body.
"Hey... this is a joke, right?" My voice was flat. Dead.
The text didn't move. It wasn't a joke.
Mission: The Divine Womb
Location: The Kingdom of Estarius
In the distant and sovereign Kingdom of Estarius, fate has delivered an anomaly—five men born within the same generation, each a once-in-a-century genius. However, these men stand on the brink of extinction; unforeseen circumstances have ensured that no sane woman dares approach them.
Your mission: Become the bridge. Bear the heirs who will carry their unparalleled gifts into the next era.
Failure means the permanent erasure of five irreplaceable bloodlines. It means a future dimmed of its brightest possibilities.
The fate of Estarius' next age rests within you.
Difficulty Rating: SSS+
[Yes!] the God of Fertility rejoiced in my head, his voice practically vibrating with glee.
"Don't 'Yes' me!" I snarled. I was still trying to process the sheer absurdity of the words SSS+ Difficulty, and he was in there throwing a party. I hadn't even seen a Triple-S rank when I was working for the God of War.
And of all the missions to get... it was the one I hated most. Times five.
"I am going to kill you someday," I hissed, grabbing chunks of my hair and glaring at the interface. I could feel the veins throbbing in my temples, but the God met my fury with a cowardly silence.
Growing up pretty had always been a curse.
People think it's all glitz and glamour, but for an orphan with no one to protect her, it just meant a lifetime of dodging perverts. I'd been offered millions for my virginity during my career—offers I'd laughed at—and I'd been bullied by girls who assumed I was out to steal their boyfriends just by existing.
I'd grown up isolated, hated by women and "adored" by men who didn't see me as a person. And now, the universe wanted to reward me by making me a professional mother to a bunch of "geniuses" nobody else wanted to touch?
'It's ridiculous.'
"Tell me," I said, my jaw tight as I flashed a truly menacing smile. "Is this why you wanted someone good-looking?"
[Don't worry, Human! I know you can do it!] the God cheered, dodging the question with the grace of a seasoned politician.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. My face was actually starting to go numb from the stress.
"Someday, this job is going to be the literal death of me."
Literally or figuratively for all I care.
The interface chimed again.
[The God of Fertility believes in you.]
"Stop adding salt to the wound, would you?"
[Welcome, Tester! As a reward for pulling an SSS+ card, you can now view additional details about your mission.]
[Press 'Receive' to claim.]
I raised an eyebrow. No "reward" was going to fix this, but I wasn't exactly in a position to turn down intel. I never had a choice in this nonsense anyway. Reluctantly, I pressed the button.
Five cards appeared, arranged neatly. Each one showed only a silhouette. I tapped the first one.
Name: Emperor Thorne Ravencourt
Nickname: The Cursed Royal
Age: 25 | Race: Human (Cursed)
Role: Emperor | Ability: ***
A cursed Emperor. Great. For all I knew, his curse was contagious. I hit the back button and clicked the next one.
Name: Cassian Vale
Nickname: Shadow
Age: 24 (Appears) | Race: Human (Augmented)
Role: World-class assassin | Ability: ***
I bit my lip. An "augmented" assassin? He could probably snap my neck with his pinky. I might as well just sign my death certificate now and save everyone the trouble.
I clicked the third card, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Name: Mael Ithrain
Nickname: The Emotion Vampire
Age: 300+ (Looks 26) | Race: Elven-Human Hybrid
Role: Dark Mage | Ability: ***
Shit. Shit. Shit. Next.
Name: Kael Vlad
Nickname: Alpha-General
Age: 28 | Race: Beastkin (Lupine)
Role: Alpha Warlord | Ability: ***
My breath hitched. A wolf-man? Did they seriously expect me to give birth to a litter? I wasn't even sure that was biologically possible. I took a ragged breath and hit the last card.
Name: Lucien Halbrook
Nickname: Dense Saint
Age: 28 | Race: Human (Divine Vessel)
Role: Traveling Saint | Ability: ***
I flopped back onto the bed, completely defeated. My hand went limp.
At this point, I just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, but the System doesn't do "peaceful rest."
I ran my palm over my face and looked dead at the interface. "The Gods really went all-out on the 'awful' factor this time, didn't they?" I whispered. I let out a long, weary sigh. "I just hope they have pizza in Estarius."
After forty-nine lives in various fantasy hellscapes, the lack of modern junk food was what really got to me. No creativity, no indoor plumbing, and never any pizza.
"Hey, God! Can I skip this one? Exchange it for something with more dragons and less... labor?"
There was no "skip" button. There never was. The interface just started glowing with a blinding, familiar intensity.
[Good luck, Tester! After this message, you will be transported to the Mission Ground.]
The warm, warping light began to suck me in, pulling at my atoms.
[Initializing transport…]
[Transport succeeded.]
'Oh, come on!'