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"Listen, when the specialist gets here, don't say a word. Understand?"

"Sure, boss."

"No, listen, Lenny. I am serious. Don't even open your mouth. I need to hear you say that you understand."

The young man seemed almost taken aback by how serious I spoke.

"I... Yes. Yes sir. I understand."

"Good. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a dick, I just... I'm trying to keep you or me or any of us from getting sued."

"I mean... Boss, is this guy... Is he dangerous? We're just doing utility work here..."

I sighed.

"Dangerous? Not really. But he's very specific - we need to watch what we say around him, or it could be disastrous."

I looked to the new guy, and saw his confusion hadn't lessened. He was still curious - too curious. I trusted him, but that curiosity made me nervous.

"Look," I explained, "I've only spoken to his assistant. Best I can figure: this guy, Rodgers? His ability is tied to his perception. It's based off of fixing things - fixing pipes - that seem broken... Specifically, things that seem broken to him. And how they're corrected is also based off his perception. So if you go and say just a little too much, and he starts to understand how this stuff works, maybe his power doesn't work no more. Or it'll start to work differently. That means our stuff doesn't get fixed, and he loses a lucrative livelihood. That's part of why he's very specific."

I shook my head.

"I'd hate to be on the bad side of a guy who loses out on a job that's pulling him this much dough this easily."

"Oh..." Lenny was quiet. "Alright, yea. I guess that makes sense."

"Believe me, it's well worth it, kid," I expressed. "That's why we're paying him the big bucks."

"Oh yea?" he questioned, and I nodded. "How big of a project is this? For him?"

I gave him the side-eye, then figured there was no harm in it.

"We're paying about a hundred-and-twenty-five-kay."

I thought Lenny's eyes might pop out of his head.

"He's getting paid what?!"

"Yep. And if all goes well, it'll be done in five minutes."

Lenny practically swayed on his feet, flabbergasted at the number. If we stood any closer to the road, I'd have been nervous, but at least the guide rail and barrier offered us some security from the 6-lane highway next to us.

I did motion for him to take a step back from the manhole in front of us, though. With only a 2-foot opening, it wasn't likely he'd fall in, but... Well, I've seen stranger things happen.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel made me turn my head, and I saw a large, shiny pickup truck, with a rack over the bed stacked with all manner of plumbing supplies, pull up behind our own utility vehicle. Two men got out - Rodgers himself, of the Rodgers' Perfect Pipe Fix, and his assistant, the man I'd spoken to previously, Franklin. With no experience and no know-how from the owner, this duo had become the most sought-after utility specialists in our entire half of the country.

"Morning, fellas!" I called out as they approached, and received the same in reply. Lenny, much to my appreciation, said nothing at all.

"This the location we talked about?" Franklin asked.

"Exactly," I replied, pointing downwards. "This one under the road."

Franklin nodded, and turned to Rodgers.

"Okay, sir. So... Like we talked about. This pipe is broken. The correct way it should work is: It should be eight-inch plastic pipe running straight from this manhole down to the next one. Normally they have joints every thirteen-and-a-half feet, and they're water tight, through and through. Just remember that picture I showed you."

"Got it," Rodgers replied. "Thanks. Let me get this done!"

With that, the super-powered-professional hopped down through the manhole opening, and began the twenty-foot climb to the manhole's bottom.

"I hesitate to ask," I opened up, once I thought he might be out of earshot, "But... Do you know how he discovered his power?"

Franklin chuckled.

"Yea. He bought his first house a few years back. Was trying to fix the drain trap for his kitchen sink. Got so frustrated because he couldn't get it water tight, kept flooding his kitchen and making a mess. Eventually, he got so goddamn angry he musta blew a gasket, and he said he stuck his head in the sink and just.... Well... You'll see in a second."

We peered down into the dim manhole. At the bottom, the trough was damp, but we'd plugged off the line further upstream, so no sewage actively flowed through the lines. Rodgers got down on his knees carefully, planting them on the shoulders to either side of the trough, and doing his best to keep away from any unpleasantness. He lowered his face to the pipe opening, the place we had issues, and just....

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He screamed like a man possessed. I couldn't help it - I recoiled in surprise, and maybe a little bit of fear. I had sort of expected it, but even still - I could hardly blame Lenny, who, standing next to me, nearly stumbled and let out a few curses.

After a minute, Rodgers clambered back up through the manhole lid, and Lenny nervously hopped back down to inspect the work. I shook Rodgers' hand with a word of thanks, and he confidently walked back to his truck, answering a phone call as he climbed inside to wait.

It was only a minute or two longer when Lenny came back up, his eyes like dinner plates.

"Boss, I'm sorry, but what the fuck? It's just... it's all gone! He just... he fuckin' screamed into the pipe and replaced like five-hundred feet of clay pipe from fuckin' nineteen-sixty-whatever with new plastic? What the hell?"

"No... Don't think of it as replacing stuff. Just that he fixed it. Sounds like he did the job, though! Thanks, Franklin," I extended my hand to the other man, who shook it. "Send the invoice to our office, we'll get it turned around with some of those grant submittals and see if we can't get you guys the money fast."

"Sure thing! Gotta get paid."

"Jesus," Lenny sat on the edge of the manhole, his legs dangling into it and his eyes staring into space. "More than a hundred grand. For like... three minutes. He just yelled!"

"Listen, bud," I said gesturing to the roaring highway next to us. "That man just saved us about six-hundred-thousand dollars and about fourteen months of work."

I turned to Franklin, and I couldn't help it - I laughed. Genuine, mirthfully, belly laughed.

"He's my hero. Tell him I'm his number-one fan."

Franklin chuckled, and began to turn away. As he walked towards the truck, he called out over his shoulder:

"It's a shit job, but it pays well! And the boss says he gets lots of stress relief!"

I chuckled. I could definitely see the knight being disgruntled over it. Thanks for sharing!

Thank you so much, I sincerely appreciate it 😀.

And thank you for making this prompt. I enjoyed expanding it.

Please, feel free to offer any feedback and critique in what I've written here.

This is perfect! Thank you so much!

I absolutely love this, especially the dialogue. It feels so authentic. I also personally enjoyed the theme.

Great work!

Bro, this is hilarious

Mister Mangler had thought he was clever. He'd beat the henchman union, hiring foreign workers as scabs. Not illegals, he was very careful about keeping above board on that front. He even personally helped a few fill out their paperwork.

Carlos Sanchez Rivera was not one of those. He actually was already a citizen, and only took the job to hang out with his friends. Mangler had seen the boy's mother once when Carlos's car was in the shop, and she gave him a ride to work. He'd bought her tamales through Carlos, and the kid loved to tell stories about and what an inspiration she was to him. She'd come over from Cuba (or maybe Puerto Rico, Mangler had honestly just been waiting for Carlos to stop talking already at the time) and made her way as a single mom, working three jobs and somehow finding time to make Carlos see how much she cared for him.

Unfortunately for Mister Mangler, she had the time to do so right now. From what he had gathered, she'd Googled the union rates, and realized Mangler was under paying his men considerably. Hey, he got them good insurance (so did the union, of course). She had called first and got one of the phone reps, who had failed to calm her, and may have even egged her on, likely wanting a raise as well.

Mangler had laughed as she came in, waiving a sandal. He had laughed in his ignorance. All the times he had called people fools, and here he was, greatest fool of them all. His face and arms bloody and bruised, and his ego in similar condition, he had given a raise to Carlos, the workers present in the room, and those in the call center before she finally let him stand. He was actually thankful his Spanish was mediocre, based on the things he'd understood during her tirade. After he stood, she negotiated raises for his entire staff as he wiped tears, snot, and blood of his face. She actually accepted lower than union rates for the non-citizens, though she called him something that got a few gasps, but he would be paying Carlos union rates or higher, going forward. And he would have trouble sleeping without nightmares for the next few months.

🏆

Here, take a free award

we share 90% DNA with cats, 75% is nothing

A henchman’s mom interrupts the villain’s plan because he isn’t paying her son the proper amount… oh god she has a chancla

'An Oasis to the Strong-Willed'

The desert sun is too punishing, the terrain uncaring, and the winds hostile. Only the companionship and tolerance of the camel that Sir Pierre of Orleans is riding upon, make sure that there are still some chapters remaining in his life.

"Keep steady, oh ye magnificent beast. And give up me not and yourself, for our quest is at an end."

He reaches his destination, a small cactus in the middle of nowhere, with the faintest of energy left inside him. His companion, the mighty ship of the desert, seems to have run out of its source of sustenance. Such was how cruel the landscape around him was.

Nearby the cactus, he sees a person. A Saracen. Draped in a green cloak with yellow stripes. Middle-aged, on the verge of being called "old", but in good health and possessing a robust physique. His gaze fixated on Pierre.

"I am in no mood to fight my adversaries", he thought. Pierre places his hand near the sheath, preparing himself to deliver a swift but strong blow to this person, should this encounter go nasty.

He slowly and cautiously approaches this figure while still being mounted.

"May Peace and Blessings be upon you.", said the Saracen, his voice gentle but authoritative, "I have some bread and roasted goat. Enough for me to share them with others. Along with some dates and figs, sweet and freshly plucked."

The Saracen lets off a smile and says, "Rest assured, kind sire. For these lands are sacred. Blood shall not be spilled. You have my word, and my Lord, our Lord, bears witness to my proclamation to you."

Sir Pierre is very hesitant. But, another hour and he and his beast may not survive the desert's "hospitality". And so, he accepts the Saracen's offer.

"Very well... God is our witness amidst this absence of men and civilization."

The Saracen takes two pieces of bread from his travel bag. And a few pieces of roasted goat. Seems like thigh and breast pieces. He serves Pierre in a wooden trough. Pierre is too weary and defeated to thank the Saracen's offering, as he proceeds to eat.

The man approaches Pierre's camel, pats it, and offers it a large water bag. Enough to last two-to-three days of further desert traveling.

"Kind stranger...will you not be needing food and sustenance for yourself?", Pierre asks the Saracen, perhaps out of a sense of paranoia that he's been served poison. But, he smells not anything foul in what he eats, "The desert is too unforgiving to tolerate camaraderie and generosity among men, do you not agree?"

"I appreciate your concern, kind sire. But, I will be provided sustenance somehow, God willing. Besides, I did have a hearty meal not long before your arrival. A single piece of bread or meat more and I shall throw up all that I had eaten and lay them waste on the ground...", he laughs.

The Saracen looks ahead East, before shifting his gaze back to Pierre,

"Kind Sire, what brings you to these harsh lands? Are you traveling to the town up east? You have come all the way here from Jerusalem, I wager?"

"Yes, but I have reached my destination. For, I have to safeguard this.....plant. This is what I was ordered.", Pierre looks at the puzzled expression of the stranger, and realizes that he's owed an explanation for the hospitality that was offered to him, "This is my punishment. For violating the Templar's oath as I attempted to marry a woman of supreme piety and virtue in Jerusalem. Having secretly been engaged with her a month back. We Templars have abstained from the secular institution of marriage."

Pierre pauses for a while, as he finishes having the last piece of dates and gulps down all the water that was served to him.

"I should have been expelled for what I had done. Instead, due to my "accomplishments", I was pardoned to a more "lenient" punishment. That being to guard this plant. In the middle of nowhere. In earnestness utmost, I do wonder if expulsion would have been a better verdict. I could have married Lady Hannah. Return back to Orleans with her. Or stayed with her in Jerusalem... regardless, a future seemingly blissful and wholesome with her might have awaited me, if I and she remained God-fearing and dutiful."

The Saracen sits down nearby the cactus, seemingly fascinated with what he's hearing from this wanderer.

"Kind stranger....", Pierre asks, "...what is your story? Why this offering of mercy to an infidel? I have slaughtered countless heathens in God's name. As I've witnessed the same being done by your fellow men."

"I am not one of Salah-ad-Din's men. Or a Turkic mercenary. Neither am I a disciple of the men from the mountains. Nor am I not a "defector" to the Christian "infidels" for worldly gains.", the stranger says, having closed his eyes as if to focus and collect his thoughts more clearly. "The desert, much like the rest of the world, is my abode. I wander where I am destined to, as per the Lord's will."

"I understand....", Pierre decides to sit down on the scorching desert floor. He finds the stranger eccentric, but fascinating, equally.

"I will now commence my watch. You are most welcome to be my companion, kind stranger, but let me assure you, it'll be a futile and frustrating exercise."

"Certainly not", replies the stranger, "consider this plant an 'Oasis to the strong-willed and resilient'. For, those who stumble across this in their quest, are made to reach spiritual enlightenment and liberation far above, their roots from worldly woe and misery. Much like this plant. Perhaps, kind sire, you too are such a person of remarkable quality."

"You are far too kind, my friend.", Pierre lets out a hearty laugh.

"What shall be my will? Marry Lady Hannah of Jerusalem, lead a devout and solemn life with her, and raise a family of equal, if not of greater piety? Lead a life of contentment, as it might be 'unremarkable'. Or prove worthy of myself to the Order and continue fighting in my God's name and honor?"

"You are left with two choices. Difficult in their nature. Regardless of what you choose, kind sire, you shall prove yourself strong-willed and spiritually far-reaching. May your company with the plant guide you to that of spiritual nourishment and enlightenment."

"Thank you for your kind words, my friend. And thank you very much for your offerings. It was most fulfilling and pleasing. Words do not convey the sincerity of how much I respect your gesture to me. May God guide you to the path of righteousness and may you attain the highest salvation man can attain in the Hereafter."

The stranger smiles and gives a slow, gentle nod.

"I shall depart from here by tomorrow morning if it's okay with you."

Pierre nods his head to imply he had no problems with it.

The sun has set, withdrawing its bright, harsh rays, and in place, the full moon illuminates the desert with the stars acting as lanterns. Offering coolness as a respite to the harsh heat of the daytime sun. Sir Pierre is offered some figs, but refuses further bread and meat from the stranger, as he felt the man barely had enough for himself.

Later in the night, Pierre goes back to singing some devotional hymns, and the stranger offers his prayer and goes to sleep early.

Pierre guards the plant, seemingly in highlight by the moon's rays, like a source of light amidst the darkness surrounding them both all over.

The next morning, as the sun proceeds to spread its rays again over the landscape, Pierre notices the stranger's absence. But is surprised to see food and resources all over him. Bread, Meat, Fruits - Fig, Olives, and Grapes. Fresh, almost as if they were plucked a few hours prior. Along with small, but reasonable jars of Milk and Honey. Almost as if they were sourced from cows and bees yesterday. And especially water, along with all of them. Enough to last three-four days. A week even, if he wishes to be miserly with them.

Sir Pierre is still of doubt as to whether God's viceregent came to discharge mercy towards him. Or if it's the devil playing tricks with him and trying to lead him astray to the path of damnation.

He nonetheless thanks God, ponders on the choice he has to make, as it was reminded to him by the Saracen, and tells himself that he'll make a decision in two days maximum, after which, God shall decide what will be a better path for him.

"Ok, so you remember how I helped you during the Tarvaxi Invasion, and I didn't just immediately betray you, so you said you'd owe me one?"

Jen took a sip of her beer and braced herself. Doctor Defacer was always a little excitable, but he was especially amped right now, so she knew this was going to be big. She gave a small nod for him to continue.

"So anyway, my college roommate, well this universe's iteration of my college roommate, ok no, actually, I never went to college in my universe, I just bond the Grand Knower of All Things to my mind for a bit. It's OK, he was a jerk and he's fine and we are both better for it. Where was I? Oh yes, this universe's iteration of me's college roommate. That guy is Suprime. You know, the superhero, Suprime?"

"Yup. Real prick."

"Oh? Oh. Well, here I thought it was just me."

"Nah," she chuckled. "You're far from the only prick out there. Just look at my dating history."

"Burning us both? Well played. Anyway, Suprime is going to be here as part of his alter ego's work, and I need to impress him with my villainous prowess. For this universe's me's sake."

"And why are you talking to me?"

"Well, with the new hench union system, I can't afford a femme fatale to help on nonprofit jobs like this."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"I want to call in my favor and have you play the femme fatale for a job I pull to impress Suprime. I just need to trap him and rob a bank. No deaths, no injuries. I'll even release him after."

She took a much larger gulp and finished her beer. She wanted to say no. She could probably weasel her way out of it. But that business with the Tarvaxi was tough, and she had stressed over how to pay him back for a while." Ok, on one condition."

"Name it," he said, already holding out his hand for the shake.

"I choose my own outfit," she said, taking his hand and giving it a good squeeze and one solid pump. She was surprised to find it felt nothing like when she made that deal with a devil last year. At least the Doc didn't remember helping her out of that mess.

I'd read an entire series of Tim and his pet alien

I honestly feel like adding human and alien just makes this prompt worse. I feel like it would be much better if you kept it generic.

A supervillain somehow convinced the superhero to be his henchwoman for a day as another hero is in town

Hope I did this right

"Humans scary, aliens unprepared" take 5,996,447,001

Probably not much different than people with multiple personalities.

[removed]

[removed]

Glow sat up nice and straight, just like the nuns forced him to. He held back the shakes, and wore a nervous smile. He took slow, measured breaths and tried to pay attention.

He didn't understand why Mister Mangler had invited him for a villain team up. He wasn't a powerful super. Not a SkyCat or Professor Pain or Shimmer, all of whom were present. He was even pretty sure that old woman by Mangler was Serene, the first supervillainess. Her skin did the ripple effect like in the old news reels, but he only had those old black and white films as reference, and she was much younger back then. If it really was her, Glow was even more certain he didn't belong here.

Glow was young, and hopeful for the future. He wanted to change the world. But he also knew the system well enough to know, you didn't change it on a heroes path. Not with his measly powers. And life had pushed him to villainy, anyway. Back in high school, when people learned about his powers, they always asked him to make fake IDs. He couldn't do fancy watermarks or anything, but he could adjust the colors to change the birth year. It made him money, but the nuns kept a close eye on him, so he never went to the parties his work benefitted.

Once he aged out and was on his own, he struggled to find work, and the hero registry kept pairing him with D-list heroes who did nothing more dangerous than pulling cats out of (short) trees. Mostly they were just folks who'd put on a small show at mall openings and such. Color changes were handy and flashy for that.

Following an accident with one of these heroes, he'd been blacklisted. It wasn't his fault, but he was low enough for them to get away with not caring. He'd tried to find legitimate jobs, but ended up homeless, and lucked into a henchman job with Mirrorer. It was a headache, but it was also a foot in the door.

He'd had a few bosses after that, using his powers to full effect to avoid getting caught when they did. After his latest boss, the Temporagist, had disappeared in a time vortex last week (and the week before and the week before and the week before and) that Mister Mangler had approached him.

Mangler hadn't given a lot of details, just let him know they were putting together a team of high level villains, and Glow should join in. Gave him a time and place, and was gone. Glow was sure it was a mistake, even as he walked in and took a seat.

As the table filled up, he found him self seated between an older man in a Trilby hat whose briefcase kept saying everyone here would die, and a young woman in black techno-armor and a cape, which seemed more trouble than it was worth as she struggled through the crowd and into her chair. The Trilby hat's briefcase had him nervous, but seeing someone else struggling with villainy actually helped him relax.

"Hi," he said once she was seated.

She looked shocked and perhaps a little nervous, though he was hardly a good judge. After a second, she speak in a mechanical voice, "Hello."

"I'm Glow." He pointed at his name tag.

"Demolitia, ending t-i-a," she replied, looking around. "Where did you get a name tag?"

"Oh, I just made it. A lot of places have ID badges, so I can just..." He changed the tag to look like a photo ID badge for Amnodyne. "...and I can usually walk right in."

"An illusionist?" This came from the Trilby hat. Not the man, but the hat itself, though Glow almost missed it, as the man's mouth open and closed. It was more like a puppet than actual talking, however.

"No, I just can change the color of objects. Nothing living." He'd learned to give that caveat in the early days, when kids at school wanted him to give them tattoos.

"Just? Don't sell yourself short. Illusionists are a dime a dozen. Don't think I've ever seen your powers, son. And I've seen a great many powers."

"How large an object?" The woman asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure. I've changed cars before, that's probably the biggest I've done." Glow found he was embarrassed about never testing his limits.

"And do things change back after a time?"

"No, not that I've seen." He felt even more anxious as she reached over and started looking closely at the name tag still pinned to his chest.

"Mind of a scientist as ever, Litia? Go easy on the lad," the Trilby said.

She backed off, now embarassed herself. They all sat in silence for a moment before Mangler called the meeting to order, but as he did, she leaned over to whisper to Glow, "One more question? Must it be colors visible to you? Or can you use microwave or radio? Maybe make something invisible?"

Glow found the idea stunned him too much to be embarrassed at not considering it before. He couldn't wait to experiment. Only half listening to Mangler discuss something about eliminating some A-list hero or another, he removed his name tag, holding it where he could see. Then suddenly, he couldn't. Then he brought it back. I was just a little into the infrared, as he wasn't sure of the dangers, but it was enough.

Suddenly, he didn't feel so out of place among these stronger villains. In fact, for the first time in his life, he actually felt super.

"I see... I'm nit sure wether to feel comforted at that. Is this what awaits everyone after they die?"

"ANSWER REFUSED, ONLY QUESTIONS RELATED TO YOUR LIFES, OLD OR NEW WILL BE ANSWERED."

This answer caused Lor to pause. "How odd, a bit of a shame as I really am curious as to my family and friends, but I can understand the need for everyone to have their own privacy."

Lor decided to move on to another question, having the feeling that getting an answer out of the voice in his head would be the equivalent of trying to break through a brick wall with only a toothpick.

"How many mods and What kind of mods am I allowed to make?"

"ONLY ONE MODIFICATION OF ANY KIND IS CURRENTLY PERMITTED."

"Currently?" Now there was a curious thought to have, if Lor was understanding correctly (and he was), then he could be allowed only a single change among all of the possibilities he'd seen. "Seem's a bit of a waste doesn't it? Can't you allow my just 1 more change, please?"

"NO."

Lor frowned at such an abrupt rejection. "Ouch, didn't have to be so hard on me."

"Just one more question then."

"Will I remember any of my past life?"

"NO. UNLESS MODIFIED, MEMORY RETENTION OF PREVIOUS LIVES AND THIS EXISTANCE ARE RENDERED VOID"

"...I see." This final question troubled Lor deeply, he'd rather enjoyed his old life except for how deeply average it all was. Funny that even in death, he was still rather emotionally attached to his old life.

Lor sat for a great many minutes thinking on what to do. About what life to live. And yet...

The ever average man eventually decided on a most average dream in the end.

"Voice? Would it be possible to live the same life again, but be able to retain my memories of my previous life?"

"YES, THIS WILL USE UP YOUR MODIFICATION, ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO APPLY THIS MODIFICATION?"

"....yes, yes please."

............................................... ........................ ............ ....... ... . "MODIFICATION AND LIFE CONDITIONS SET, AS YOU ARE USING A PREVIOUS LIFE, DO YOU WANT TO SKIP FORWARDS TO A CERTAIN PERIOD OF TIME IN YOUR LIFE INSTEAD OF STARTING FRESH?"

Lor was quite surprised to hear(?) The voice say this and almost wanted to question how this wasn't another Mod, however, he was smart enough to not stick his head in the gift horses mouth all the way.

"What age am I allowed to start at?" But that didn't mean he didn't want to ask just that little question.

"TO ALLOW FOR EASIER MEMORY RETENTION AND PROVIDE THE FREATEST POTENTIAL FOR GOWTH, THE MINIMUM AGE ALLOWED IN THIS CASE IS 10 YEARS OF AGE. THE MAXIMUM AGE ALLOWED IS 69."

Lor made a squinting motion with his eyes and resisted the notion of laughing at the juvenile coincidence the voice had given him. "I see, thank you......"

After even more consideration, Lor decided to try and get an early start to his life again as a young adult.

"Voice, I'd like to start again as 20 year old me thank you."

"REINCARNATION BEGINING"

"LIVE A GOOD LIFE LOREM"

Before Lor could think on why the voice referred to him in name he felt a sense of somthing returning to him.

If he later tried explainingnthe experience to someone, Lor would say "It was as though I was experiencing what it was like to become concrete on the footpath, solidifying, becoming something."

And like waking up from a dream, he woke up having turned 20. Ready to live his new life.

Gotta know how this ends

Lor found himself back in somthing that looks an awful lot like his previous home. The scenery shifts even as he looks at it. A shelf at one time he remembers holds a collection of novels and books for teenagers and young adults, packed alongside Lego constructs and Nerf guns. Only to shift to a shelf filled with certificates of education and accomplishments of a man at the peak of his prime. It shifts again, displaying family photos and models of carved wood made for someone much younger, another shelf contains boxes of useless junk along side bottles of pills.

Everything in the room follows this strange pattern of seeming to "age along" just as you stop observing it. Like a permanent trick of the eyes.

"Right then, this sight is giving me an awful headache, Lor thought. I think I'll have a sit down to gather my thoughts and wait out this mystery."

It was only once Lor was seated and relaxed that another state of mind began to overcome him again.

"PLEASE SELECT A MODIFICATION FOR YOUR NEXT LIFE"

Raising an eyebrow at the vagueness of "Modification" Lor decided to ask his mind what it really meant by this.

"Would you mind clarifying on what you mean by modification, please."

Almost at once he began to think back on his entire life, as though seeing it on a VHS or DVD player on 1000 times the normal speed. Lor remember all the times he'd wondered to himself about little things. Like changing who got his first kiss, who he married, what job path he went down, places he'd wanted to travle to, and other such small things.

But then there came the more wild fantasys. What if I was some sort of ancient eldrich monster that came from the ocean to wreak havic in the places I'd lived? What if I was a legendary beast like a Minotaur? What if Aliens had invaded and I'd become a super soldier to fight them off and save humanity, or even the reverse; being an alien sent to exterminate humanity?

All of these thoughts and fantasys played through my head and in my heart I knew each of them would be as real as my previous life.

But, Lor decided he had a few questions.

"Well, that was a rather large ammount of information to take in, he said as he rubbed his temples, I do have a few questions though."

"Firstly, have I been here before. Or- uh, I mean to say, Have I died before?"

"NO, THIS IS YOUR FIRST LIFE. AND IS THEREFORE YOUR FIRST TIME HERE"

Heh, very nice. I loved reading this. Very sad(?) Ending. But very appropriate to the prompt.