Jake let out a low, strained groan as consciousness crept back into his body.
His head throbbed dully, as though he had been asleep for far too long—or perhaps not long enough. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, the ground beneath him oddly warm, oddly real. For a brief moment, he simply sat there, breathing, letting the fog in his mind clear.
Then he looked around.
His breath caught.
The world stretched endlessly in every direction, bathed in dim, fading light. There were no walls. No buildings. No familiar landmarks. Just open space, quiet and vast, like the aftermath of something divine
Jake's heart began to pound.
He spun his head from side to side, eyes wide, his body tense as if expecting something to leap out at him.
This looks like the kind of place where ghosts live, he thought.
"Ah—um…" His voice came out dry, cracking slightly. He swallowed and tried again. "Goddess?"
Silence answered him.
He hesitated, then raised his voice. "Goddess, please wake up."
Nothing.
No movement. No sound. Not even the wind.
Jake exhaled shakily and rubbed his face. He waited.
And waited.
Time passed—but it felt… wrong.
At first, he tried counting the seconds. One. Two. Three. He made it to thirty before stopping abruptly.
Seconds?
That doesn't make sense.
The air didn't change. The light didn't shift. His body didn't feel tired, nor refreshed. It was as if time itself had stalled, stretched thin like a thread about to snap.
"I don't think that's right…" he muttered.
Counting like that would be a pain anyway, he decided. There was no point obsessing over it.
"If she wakes up, she wakes up," Jake said quietly, more to himself than anything else. "It's going to happen eventually."
He leaned back, staring upward.
At some point—whether minutes or hours later—something finally changed.
The light softened.
A breeze brushed against his skin, gentle and cool, sending a quiet shiver through him. Nearby, a small campfire flickered to life, its flames dancing lazily as dusk began to settle across the strange land.
Jake stiffened.
Something's happening.
He turned sharply
.
The woman—no, the goddess—shifted where she lay. Her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly before settling into something more human, more distant.
Jake stood immediately.
"So… you're finally awake, miss—" he started, then stopped short, realizing he didn't actually know what to call her.
She sat up slowly, movements controlled and graceful, as if even waking was beneath her concern.
"Just call me Goddess," she said.
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
The temperature around them seemed to drop just slightly, enough to make Jake's shoulders tense.
"O-okay," he said, forcing a weak smile. "Miss G, then… may I ask why you're here?"
She looked away, clearly unimpressed by the question.
"I don't know why I'm here," she replied, irritation seeping into her tone. "But I won't be staying long."
She rose to her feet, brushing invisible dust from her clothes. "Still… thank you for your hospitality."
Jake barely heard the last part.
He was too busy staring.
Light gathered around her feet as she began to rise into the air, her body lifting effortlessly, as though gravity itself had forgotten its role. Her hair fluttered upward, glowing softly in the dim light.
She was ascending.
Jake's mouth hung open.
So this is a goddess…
Then—
"Oh shit."
Her ascent stopped abruptly.
The glow flickered.
And she dropped.
"She's falling!" Jake shouted, instincts taking over.
He sprinted forward, heart hammering, arms outstretched. The impact nearly knocked him off his feet, but he managed to catch her, staggering backward before collapsing onto the ground.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
She pushed herself up first, glaring at the sky with open hostility.
"…A barrier," she muttered.
Jake blinked. "A what?"
"A barrier," she repeated, her voice sharp now. "One that prevents me from returning to my post."
She clenched her fists. "That sly old fox…"
Jake tilted his head. "Fox?"
"He should sleep with one eye open," she said darkly.
Jake laughed awkwardly, unsure whether she was joking. "Uh… yeah. Sounds like a jerk."
She didn't laugh.
Only later—much later—would Jake learn that the "sly old fox" she spoke of was God himself.
Her father.
Night eventually settled over the land, the campfire casting long shadows across the ground. Exhaustion—real or imagined—began to creep into Jake's body.
"I guess… we should sleep," he said quietly.
She didn't argue.
They settled near the fire, the silence between them heavy but not entirely uncomfortable.
For the first time since his death, Jake almost felt… calm.
Then—
BOOM.
A thunderous roar split the sky apart.
The ground shook violently, the flames of the campfire flaring wildly as the sound echoed endlessly through the heavens.
Jake shot upright, heart racing.
"What the hell was that?!"
The goddess's eyes narrowed as she stared upward, her expression darkening.
"…Trouble," she said.