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….
Heaven.
Grand Office of YHWH, the Creator.
Time: ?
YHWH had been stuck doing paperwork for literal ages now, signing documents that became irrelevant the second they grazed His eyes. Yet, he still had to force Himself out of His stupor and read the document closely.
Not doing that and just signing away things had been the fundamental mistake that allowed the creation of that fucking Incursor Program, after all.
His godly frown burrowed as He was reminded of that shitshow and He tried re-focusing on the piles and piles of work that awaited Him.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Who the fuck dared to interrupt His- Bah, He couldn't even pretend to be angered anymore at things.
He was too exhausted. His days of flooding the Earth because some morons said mean things about Him were long gone.
YHWH took a deep breath and spoke.
YOU MAY COME IN.
Sometimes YHWH wished He didn't cause a small earthquake every time He spoke. Sometimes.
The gargantuan door opened the slightest bit, just to let a platoon of angels carry a massive, giant button.
YHWH couldn't help but stare in confusion at the odd visage. It wasn't often that a platoon of angels had to carry items for Him.
And if He wasn't mistaken, that was a YHWH-sized button.
The leading angel of the group flew up to His eye level, carrying a paper document. The angel bowed respectfully (as he fucking should) before reading the contents.
"King YHWH, due to the signing of document N°771239275, we present to you the finished prototype of project 'INCURSOR-FUCKER', which has finally entered the testing phase thanks to the low number of Incursors this year."
YHWH stared flummoxed at the angel, then at the button, but as He processed the lovely name of the button, a memory resurfaced.
RIGHT—THOUGHT YHWH—I ASKED FOR THAT CENTURIES AGO.
It really was more of a novelty than an actual weapon of any sort, but still, he remembered approving of the project's development after reading of its proposal with a sadistic glee that He thought long gone. YHWH looked at the lead angel.
SO… DOES THIS DO WHAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO?
The angel gave YHWH a look, as if knowing what He really wanted, but still answered.
"Pressing the button, as stated in the project's proposal, will curse the selected Incursor with one instance of bad luck wherever it can be inserted at. Minor misfortune, if you will."
Before YHWH's smile could get too big, the angel continued.
"However, this misfortune cannot directly kill the Incursor, nor put him in an unwinnable status, due to the clauses stated and signed by you in the 'Incursor Project' original document."
The reminder that he actually signed that fucking paper made it so that, down on Earth, a tsunami happened somewhere.
Hundreds died.
As soon as the unpleasantness subsided, a new set of papers (most definitely related to the tsunami) appeared on top of his already massive pile of paperwork.
Fucking fantastic.
FINE. JUST PUT THE BUTTON ON MY DESK.
…
NO, MORE TO THE RIGHT. MORE TO THE- OKAY, NOW YOU WENT OVER IT.
A LITTLE BIT TO THE- THERE, RIGHT THERE.
THANKS. NOW GET OUT OF MY OFFICE.
…
CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU ASSHOLES.
Once YHWH was left alone and the door was closed, He admired the button. It was a massive (although considering His size, it was hand-sized) black button with a number-pad attached to its side.
Above the button was a small screen (which again, meant it was actually gigantic) that had a basic display.
YHWH reached to the side of the button, where an ON/OFF switch was located and flipped it.
The screen came to life.
INCURSOR-FUCKER ON!
SELECT YOUR TARGET, KING YHWH!
Truthfully, project 'INCURSOR-FUCKER' wasn't anything useful for anyone except Himself.
He approved of it just to use it as a way to cope with the fact He allowed that fucking Incursor bullshit get out of hand.
Even the name was just there to sate His insatiable blood-lust against the Incursors.
And yet… on His desk was now the perfect button, really.
The Button of Pettiness.
HEH…. HEHEHEHEHEH…..
One press, and an Incursor could have either his day, or week, or month, or year, or decade absolutely ruined because He decided to press a single button.
They probably wouldn't die from that. Not directly, at least, but it would be an inconvenience to the mid to low level players.
But that was enough.
Now, who to curse first….
…He really wanted to curse Incursor N°1that fucking asshole… but he didn't.
He'd wait for the full version of the INCURSOR-FUCKER to do so, this was just the prototype after all. He'd take his time with N°1.
Instead, he just went to the latest Incursor added. He was a curious case, in YWHW's eyes, since life clearly hadn't treated him well before coming here, a sharp contrast with most of the scum-fuckers that plagued the Program.
But he was still an Incursor, so….
TARGET: N°734
INCURSOR-FUCKER ENGAGED!
For the first time in a while, a pure serene smile, the kind He had on His face when His only true son was born, came forth.
YHWH, at least for now, felt at peace.
FUCK HIM.
YHWH slammed the button.
….
Good old Daniel García's going to KYOTO! Wasn't that a nice place? The pictures showed that there were tons of places to visit!
And better yet, NO TEEN DEVILS WATCHING OVER ME! I WOULD DO AS I PLEASED THERE! Literally perfect spot!
Suddenly, as I headed to the bus, the small pop I was becoming increasingly familiar with rang out.
I stopped on my tracks, E.E already spotting a small note of paper written in angeliquese drifting down in front of me.
I didn't bother picking it out, for E.E had already read its contents.
CAUTION:
EXTERNAL FACTORS (in this case: HEAVEN) HAVE MODIFIED YOUR CURRENT SESSION.
MINOR CHANGES HAVE OCCURRED.
…What the fuck did that mean?
….
Hey guys if u like the fanfic and want to read ahead by 22+ Chapters or just want to support take a visit on my patreon.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
http://patreon.com/Marin_kitawaga