What Comes Next Pt 01

Author's Notes:

What Comes Next is my attempt at writing an Isekai style story.

A hero reborn on a new world where he must survive dangerous trials and find his way amongst different races and cultures to find the ultimate treasure: Love.

Lots of classic elements... with a twist!

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What Comes Next: Part 1

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Chapter 1

The flash of flame and light, intense heat, and a wave of overwhelming force slammed into him like the hand of God.

The bright pain lasted for only the briefest instant, almost long enough for him to realize he was dead.

What happened next was unclear, but it didn't follow his expectations. All the lessons he'd learned in his Sunday school years, then at his parent's side in the pews of the community church, meant he knew what comes next.

He was ready.

His heart yearned to be reunited with the one he loved, the one he'd so recently lost.

Hope flared but was soon replaced by confusion.

He felt... a physical sensation.

Wasn't he dead? He couldn't have survived the explosion.

Unwanted memories of his last moments flashed through his mind in a jumble.

Approaching the worksite storage shed at his last contract position.

Sparks.

The smell of gasoline spilled onto the mud floor with a strong undertone of... garlic?

His outrage at hearing his tools had been dumped in the shed.

The rage, cursing, and spittle from the red-faced project manager and site foreman after he'd told them he'd reported them for multiple severe safety violations.

The acetylene tanks, damaged in a careless accident the previous day, hidden in the shed next to the tipped gas can.

The rusted and squealing diesel generator kicking on as he opened the door.

The flash.

He jolted at the last memory, and phantom pain flared.

As it quickly faded, he wondered why he felt sensations at all. Wasn't he dead?

He heard a moan and realized it came from him. His eyes were open, but there was no light. Had he lost his sight in the explosion?

The force of the blast should have turned him into a bag of broken bones, but the ache seemed to be localized to his lower back. It felt more like bruising.

Awareness of his body slowly expanded beyond this area, but there was no additional pain. He lifted his arms and touched his face. He found smooth skin, not scorched and charred as he'd expected. After running his hands over his head and discovering he still had hair, he moved them down to touch his chest, arms, groin (just in case), and legs. No damage or pain anywhere.

He realized he was naked and lying on a rough woven mat, but the floor beyond seemed to be rock. It was a little bumpy but didn't seem to have any sharp edges. He carefully sat up and still felt no other pain.

He reached his hands out into the darkness in all directions to explore his immediate surroundings and mapped the space in his mind. It felt like he was in a small, dry alcove of rock with a low ceiling just above his head. The floor was smoother than the roughly cut walls, but a soft fabric curtain covered one side of the alcove. He lifted the bottom edge and noted the top seemed to be affixed to the rock somehow.

Moving slowly, he exited the alcove and discovered it was at the bottom of a tunnel that sloped upwards gently. The ceiling was still low, so he remained on his hands and knees as he moved further up the tunnel.

He found the curtains of twelve more alcoves, all on the left side of the tunnel. They had mats in them but were otherwise empty.

He sighed in relief as he wasn't sure what he'd do if he found a body.

He paused as he realized how calmly he was taking this whole experience.

Why was he so calm? He'd died!

Then he recalled how calm his dad was in crisis situations. He must be emulating the man.

That wasn't a bad thing, considering the circumstances. He'd just have to be careful not to lock his emotions away as tightly.

He was sure he'd died as the memory of the explosion was brief but intensely real. He should have been crushed and burned beyond recognition, maybe even pulverized into a red mist... but he wasn't.

He paused and let the realization sink in that he'd just woken up from being dead. He needed more information before he decided to panic.

Then he heard a noise. Something metallic and sharp, followed by a scraping sound.

Were those voices ahead? He couldn't determine what they were saying, but it sounded like they were becoming more distant. He tried to call out, but his throat was dry, and all he managed was a weak croak.

A distant boom, a metallic clack, and silence returned. He shuffled forward, hands outstretched and determined the ceiling was getting higher. He took a chance and stood as he shuffled forward.

His hands touched something made of wood. It felt like a door, but this side had no handle.

His fingertips determined the wood was smooth and without splinters. He pounded a fist against it, but it was solid and didn't budge. The sound of his thumps echoed slightly, but no one responded to the noise.

This seemed to be the end of the tunnel. As there was a locked door and he'd heard voices beyond it, he decided he'd just have to sit and wait for someone to return. Hopefully, that would be soon.

He collected the matt from the closest alcove and set it on the floor next to the door. Then he sat and took stock of his situation again.

He was somehow miraculously alive and potentially unhurt. There was still a question about his ability to see.

He was in a cave, and caves were typically underground and dark, which could explain his vision issue.

There was no sound other than the ones he made, so it almost felt like he was in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, except he was sitting on a woven mat, not floating in body-temperature water.

He had no idea where he was. This wasn't a hospital, and it certainly wasn't anywhere near the building site, as there were no caves nearby.

He was naked, sitting in the dark in a cave behind a locked wooden door.

His mind felt sharp, so he didn't think he'd taken any brain damage. He hadn't lost any memories, as even the chaotic moments of his death seemed to be reordering themselves in his mind. That felt like a positive sign.

He was thirsty and hungry but not cold. He found that last aspect suspicious as he was naked in a cave and expected such places to be cold.

After a time, he realized he was tired. With no other alternative, he stretched out on the mat and let himself drift off.

What a strange way to end your day.

Chapter 2

Hemlin was feeling his fifty-two years as he opened the cathedral's catacomb entrance before the sun reached the horizon. He had maybe ten minutes before dawn, so they had to hurry.

His assistant, Baxly, was right behind him, lugging a large sack of freshly laundered tunics for today's new arrivals. A second bag contained simple leather slipper shoes. One-size-fits-all for both items. Their job wasn't to make them pretty, just presentable in public.

He made his assistant do the carrying these days as his chronic back injury was acting up again. He was grateful for the job the Cathedral gave him as it paid for his family's lodging and meals. The side job he'd signed on for earned him the money he'd need when his back finally gave out.

The older man stretched carefully as Baxly watched him nervously, and he hid his smile. It was kind of sweet that his assistant was concerned about his health.

"Are you going to finish teaching me the ceremonies today? I still don't know all of them and your back looks a little more crooked every day," Baxly said in concern.

Hemlin's pleased smile soured as he realized his assistant was only worried about his training so he could remain employed when Hemlin was forced to retire.

With a sigh, he nodded as they climbed down the stairs. "Yes, yes. We'll do it today."

Baxly dropped the bags on the floor by the door and hustled back upstairs to get the water and cup.

New arrivals were always thirsty.

When he heard Baxly climbing back down, he put his key into the outer door's lock and wiggled it before turning the stiff mechanism. It opened with a loud clack and Hemlin pulled it open to rest it back against the wall. Baxly went inside and set the heavy water keg on the stone bench carved into the wall next to the door. A short distance beyond the bench was a counter. This was where the new arrival cards were stacked with the writing implements.

The younger man lit the torches and stopped when he heard a dull thumping. He turned to look at Hemlin, but the old man just stood inside the door, pointing to the bags of clothes and shoes still in the hall.

"Did you hear that?" Baxly asked as he hustled to get the bags. These went to the empty space on the counter.

"What?" Hemlin asked wearily.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The hair on the back of Hemlin's neck stood on end as he locked eyes with Baxly.

"...hey," a weak voice said from the other side of the door to the catacombs.

"It's too early," the young man hissed.

Hemlin flashed a glare at his assistant to hide his own fear. Then he moved to unlock the inner door. He pulled it open and stood aside to let the torchlight shine inside the entrance.

Baxly squeaked a brief noise as a man with very light-colored hair stood just inside the door, blinking at them as he shielded his eyes. They couldn't tell the color of his hair in the orange glow of the flame, but it was light.

"How did you get in there?" Hemlin asked.

"No idea. Woke up here. In one of the alcoves." His voice was very scratchy. "Could I get some water?"

Hemlin gestured for Baxly to quickly get him a cup as he helped the man walk into the room.

"It's important you remember when you arrived," Hemlin said, taking the cup from his assistant and placing it in the young man's hands. He watched him swallowing and gestured for Baxly to get the tunic and slippers.

Hemlin estimated his age to be around mid-twenties. Tall and well-muscled. He'd have to wait until he had better light to make a more accurate assessment of him.

The man sighed in relief as he handed the cup back. He looked at Hemlin and blinked a few times. "It's good to know my eyes work. Waking up in the dark was a little disturbing." He paused to recall. "I woke up and crawled in the dark to the door and heard someone on the other side locking up and leaving."

"Which alcove?" Hemlin asked.

"Uh, the farthest one, at the bottom. I was in the last one. I counted twelve curtains after I went through the one I woke up behind,"

"Agron!" Baxly gasped and got a sharp glare from Hemlin before the older man turned back to the new arrival.

"Can you say how long it took you to wake, crawl up the tunnel, and hear us locking up?" he asked again.

The young man frowned. "I don't know. Not more than ten minutes? Why does that matter?" He suddenly spotted the clothes in Baxly's hands. "Are those for me?"

Hemlin nodded. "Yes, but we must first see the Gods' marks on your lower back."

The young man looked at Hemlin in concern. "The what?" Then he turned and tried to look over his shoulder.

Hemlin and Baxly stared at the area at the base of his spine just above his buttocks, and both men gasped aloud.

"What? What is it?" the new arrival asked nervously.

"Three! He's got three! No one's ever gotten more than one!" Baxly yelped.

"Three what?" the man was getting angry.

"God's marks. They're like tattoos, but they never fade. The Gods place their mark on the backs of those they bring to our world." Hemlin had a worried look on his face. "It's true. No one has ever had more than one God responsible for bringing them here. But more surprising are the Gods indicated on you. Agron, Ullentra, and Ffornexa haven't sent anyone to us in... generations! Their alcoves are always empty now."

He turned to frown at Baxly. "Did you confirm all thirteen alcoves were empty after sunset last night?"

Baxly looked away from the man to glare at Hemlin. "Of course I did! I followed the ritual to the letter. All thirteen were checked, and all thirteen were empty. I did the blessings in each and ensured the mats were ready for the new day."

Hemlin handed the new arrival the tunic and sandals he took from Baxly's hands. "The timing is significant as the Gods only send new arrivals between sunrise and sunset. Never any other time. Except for you. You must have arrived after sunset as we completed our duties and left the catacombs half an hour after the sun had set last night."

The man pulled the tunic over his head, then froze as Hemlin's words finally began to sink in. "Wait... what did you say about being brought to the world."

Hemlin nodded grimly. "You are in the catacombs of the Cathedral of Rebirth in the capital city of Genthale in the Human Kingdom of Thale. Welcome, new arrival." At the older man's words, Baxly mirrored the older man's gesture and bowed his head as the ritual required.

Confused eyes watched the two men cautiously as his head shook slowly. "Your world? You're telling me I'm not on Earth?"

Hemlin nodded. "Yes, you have been reborn on our world. Many new arrivals have no memory of their previous lives. Can you tell me if you recall anything? Do you know your name?"

The younger man leaned back in shock. "I-I remember everything. My name is Alex Frost. H-how do I know this isn't some elaborate prank?"

Baxly snorted in surprise, then looked embarrassed. "Apologies. This is the first time I've heard a new arrival express such doubts."

Hemlin shot him an annoyed look. "It isn't mine." He turned his attention back to the young man named Alex Frost. "The Gods always deliver people who've recently died on their world. Do you remember your final moments?" He saw Alex jolt from the recollection and nodded grimly. "I see you do. You will have been restored to a fully healed condition. Old scars will no longer be present, though you appear too young to have experienced those."

He watched the young man quickly examine his arms and right leg, pressing the skin on the outside of his ankle. When he finished his inspection, Hemlin saw incredulous acceptance beginning to sink in.

"When you leave the temple, you will see more evidence that you are no longer on...

Urth

. Humans are not the only race which live on our world—"

"What's its name?" Alex asked.

Hemlin smiled amusedly. "It is the world. There is only one. It needs no name. In the city of Genthale, you will primarily encounter Humans, Dwarves, Elves, a few Orcs, and even less Beast-Kin. Out beyond the walls, you will see these and others. The creatures of this world are not like the ones in yours, and many will attempt to kill you. The world is not an easy place to survive. The Gods have brought you here to be an Adventurer. Their will must be followed with utmost obedience—"

He stopped when he saw the man scowl.

Alex shook his head slowly. Something was bothering him about this last part. "I don't know these Gods. Where I was born, I followed the one God until... I couldn't. I'm not ready to leap back into blind faith." He seemed to be waiting for a reaction from Hemlin and Baxly.

The old man sighed. This wasn't his first unbeliever either. "You don't believe what your eyes tell you?" he asked calmly.

Alex glanced down at his leg, which no longer had a long scar from an operation, then held Hemlin's eyes with his. "I'm not saying that. Something... miraculous has happened, but I don't understand the intent behind it. I don't know the names you spoke of or what they represent. On my world, I learned that the God I followed didn't always play fair... even when you followed their rules and worshipped them properly. Terrible cruelty...." Alex's voice tapered off as his eyes saw something only for him.

He gave himself a shake, but his expression remained closed off. "I'm not interested in playing games with another God—did you say three?"

Hemlin nodded, then shrugged. "It is your choice to follow or shun the God, or Gods in this case, who brought you to this world. Be aware they have given you blessings, which are abilities beyond the scope of normal beings. The purpose of this is to give you a fighting chance to survive the trials this world will send you. As a new arrival, you're expected to register with the Adventurer's Guild. They will give you the prerequisite training for your gifts. Those given these blessings are expected to be Adventurers. You also must repay the Guild for the room, board, and education they offer during this time by undertaking some training missions. Once you pass these and become a leveled Adventurer, you're on your own. You must earn a living to pay for your food, lodgings, and equipment. In the city of Genthale, all citizens are expected to work for a living or leave the city and fend for themselves in the wild. You might find some village within the Kingdom of Thale that might accept you, but you'd better be ready to work there as well. You'll get more information on this at the Guild Hall." He turned to his assistant. "A registration card, please."

Baxly stood still with a worried expression. "I don't believe we have any for Agron, Ullentra, or Ffornexa. Haven't needed them."

Hemlin grumbled, then snapped at his underling. "Get me one for Wavesh. I'll cross out the name and add the others."

Baxly nodded and rushed over to the counter to return with the card in question and a writing implement.

Hemlin scribbled quickly, then handed the small card to Alex. "You present this to the clerk at the Guild Hall, and they will register you." He gestured to Alex's feet, reminding the man to put on his slippers.

The old man watched the young, fit man easily squat down to cinch the ties on the loose slippers. This made him reflect on how unfair life was. He would give anything to move so easily without pain, have so many years ahead of him, and have a chance to earn more income than this job gave.

Then he realized this particular new arrival could help him with the last wish. He could earn quite a bonus from his contact for a new arrival with such a unique status. Three Gods! It was unheard of! He decided to take this opportunity.

He turned to Baxly. "Quickly, before the sun rises above the horizon. Check the alcoves. There was a mat by the door."

His assistant jumped and moved to prepare the alcoves as ordered.

"I'll guide you out," Hemlin said to Alex, gesturing for him to follow.

He walked up the stairs, feeling his back tweak as he climbed. When they reached the cathedral, he glanced at Alex and saw the man was impressed with the splendor of the high vaulted ceiling and rich ornamentation, but it wasn't a look of awe. He was simply admiring the architecture, as a non-believer would.

All the more reason for Hemlin not to feel guilty for what he was about to do.

They walked to the grand doors at the front of the building, and he realized it was still a few minutes before they would open them. Was his contact even there?

He turned to Alex. "A moment, please, as I prepare the doors. You did arrive outside of normal hours."

The younger man nodded and looked back at the grand display.

Hemlin undid the locks and poked his head out the door. He gratefully spotted his contact across the wide plaza and saw the man's eyes locked on his in interest. Hemlin tapped the door with three widespread fingers, indicating a high-value target. From the nod he received, he knew the man would be ready.

He turned back inside and faced Alex, noting no one else was in earshot. "You're in luck. A Guild representative is waiting across the plaza. Find the man in the red leather vest. He'll take you to Guild Hall. Good luck." He pulled the door open and gently guided the man outside before closing the door behind him.