Counting to Infinity

Chapter 1

The spirit groaned as they awoke in a familiar chamber. Warm water gently lapped at their translucent sides, despite the spirit's formless nature.

A deity stood in front of them, hovering a few centimetres above the water. If not for the goat's head and glowing aura, they would have easily passed as a human.

"Hey, Dhyros," the spirit muttered groggily.

Dhyros waved casually. "Hello, Rui. Or should I call you something else?"

"You ask me the same question every time," the spirit grumbled as they sat up in the water. "Just call me Rui."

"Still so grumpy after all these years," Dhyros tutted. "You would've thought that a couple of lives had mellowed you out."

"You're sure quick to judge. Can we just get on with the reincarnation process?"

In previous iterations of this scenario, Dhyros would have happily obliged and began their mysterious series of questions about the spirit's most recent life. However, Dhyros simply shook their head this time.

"Unfortunately, I must tell you something before that. It's rather important, so it would be in your best interest to listen closely. First, your future vessel is currently... in use."

Confused, the spirit merely looked back at Dhyros, waiting for him to elaborate. The gods couldn't use a vessel of their kind. They always reincarnated as a newborn, after all. What use was a baby?

"An unknown group recently assassinated a hero that we have chosen for a prophecy. However, we could not simply let him die and leave the prophecy unfulfilled. The most accessible vessel at the time was yours, unfortunately. We have taken the mind and body of that vessel and manipulated the parameters to best match the hero's current age."

"And of course the excuse is a 'prophecy'," the spirit sarcastically ground out. "Truly, how generous of you to steal an innocent bystander's vessel for the sake of a couple of flimsy words. I can't believe you let this guy freeload off my vessel, after all that I sacrificed for our deal. What will happen to me, then?"

"You will have to share the vessel."

"WHAT?"

If the spirit had a face, it would have certainly shown outrage and shock. However, the cluster of light merely shook in indignation.

Dhyros raised their hands to pacify the spirit. "I'm afraid this means that your participation in this prophecy is involuntary. I would advise you to not impede too heavily on the hero's journey. The council of gods shall be watching your progress closely."

Words couldn't convey how infuriated the spirit had become. Still, they needed to convince Dhyros to conserve their precious life.

"But this is my last chance at life! My last vessel, simply taken from me, as if all my sacrifice was nothing? And what's more, I'm forced to risk that precious life being tangled with the gods' plans, disguised as a 'prophecy'! Every time the gods make a move, it's never ended well for the humans!"

Dhyros only shrugged at the spirit's complaints. "Perhaps you were destined to be involved with the prophecy from the beginning. There is little that happens without fate's knowledge. If you have any complaints, please find a deity in a higher position. I'm simply the messenger."

Naturally, there was no response to Dhyros' words. The spirit was too busy trying to come to terms with the absurd and unfair situation that they had just arbitrarily been placed in.

After seeing that the spirit wasn't going to respond, Dhyros calmly continued, "Now, onwards to your reincarnation process. To hasten the procedure, I shall only ask one question this time."

"Go on."

Dhyros smiled mysteriously. It appeared rather uncanny on a goat's face and looked closer to a grimace. "Very well. Is there anything that you would sacrifice yourself for?"

"Myself, of course. Isn't that quite literally our original deal?" the spirit scoffed. "If you're planning on sacrificing me for the greater good, I can think of a million ways to drag you down with me."

The unchanging expression on Dhyros' face offered no reaction to the answer. Perhaps it was because the spirit was unaccustomed to discerning emotions on a goat's face, or because Dhyros had heard much worse responses.

Regardless of their opinion on the spirit's answer, Dhyros simply said, "That should be all. I'll send you to your new vessel without further delay."

Dhyros snapped their fingers as they faded from view. In response, the water rose to completely engulf the spirit in a crashing wave.

What happened next was far from unexpected, but it didn't get any less gut-wrenching each time. There came the unpleasant sensation of being stretched taut and then moulded into various shapes, as if the spiritual essence was nothing but mere Playdough.

When this section of the process finally ended, the fatigued spirit embraced the sensation of falling. It was akin to being viscous liquid in a funnel, languidly flowing downwards into a central focal point.

In this case, the funnel led to the intended vessel. The one that, frustratingly, was already occupied. By a clueless brat who had gotten himself killed, nonetheless. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be the hero mentioned in the prophecy if he died so easily. Similar bitter thoughts continued to ruminate while the spirit felt themselves being siphoned into the vessel.

Just as they were about to celebrate the success of their reincarnation, there came an uncomfortable spike in pressure. No doubt, the vessel was attempting to fit in the spirit, despite already having an inhabitant.

The worst part about the pressure was that it never ceased. It only continued growing, each second surpassing their expectations for how painful it could become. If the spirit had a mouth, they would surely scream, but all they could do was stay still and endure the torture.

In the haze of agony, the spirit could vaguely sense another being. They, too, were writhing in pain from the pressure being exerted upon them. A thread of satisfaction provided a brief interlude from the cacophony of pain as the spirit realised that the hero was also suffering.

Within a split second, the pressure vanished completely. The abrupt change sent both of its victims reeling.

As the spirit slowly gained their bearings and adjusted to the facilities of the vessel, they were greeted with the unpleasant sight of a toilet bowl. Not only that, but there was a worrying amount of puke that was thankfully contained within the bowl.

Disgusted, the spirit looked away from the mess. "This is not the welcome I was expecting."

There was the strange feeling of being pulled away from the body as the other inhabitant took control of the vessel's mouth.

"Nice to meet you too," the hero coughed out sarcastically. "Please, don't even ask if I'm fine or anything. Especially since it was you entering my body that made me puke."

At the disrespect shown to them, the spirit's momentarily forgotten anger flared up once again.

From a combination of being unfamiliar with the vessel and being fuelled by anger, the spirit forgot to take control of the vessel's mouth.

They directly thought out the words, What exactly has you so entitled to this vessel?

Thankfully, it seemed that sharing a vessel meant that their consciousnesses were able to communicate without speaking. Less fortunately, the response was less than ideal.

Huh? You're the one who showed up out of nowhere, the hero shot back.

Cogs turned in the spirit's head as they realised what this meant.

You're telling me that you have no idea what's happening? You don't know how you were magically revived from the dead?

Clearly not, if I'm asking you what the hell is going on.

The spirit felt like bashing their head against a wall. Not only were they put into this situation, but they also had to explain it to a numbskull.

This was going to take a while. In fact, it would be a miracle if they finished before the century ended.