Brady Tyson's Walk Along the Precipice

The Things That Humans Cannot Bear - 2

I open my eyes to an infinite sea of white.

After all the punches I've taken I never expected death to be so...

Tranquil.

"She's awake." A familiar voice says to my right.

I blink my eyes, and the corners of my vision grow slightly darker.

I turn my head away from the light above the operating table, looking towards the fat man.

"Can't be heaven if you're here." I'm starting to feel my body again. It's incredibly heavy.

"Can we get her a stimulant?" He says, and I feel a numb prick in my chest.

"What did you do to me?" I blink my eyes again, and the fat man's large figure swims into focus.

"Brady, what exactly is it that you asked of Fate?" He's put his sunglasses back on, and all I can see reflected in them is myself. It seems like I've finally been cleaned up.

"Fate?"

"...The thing that created the Ragnarök ritual. The crimson pire in the sky."

"...I didn't think that ordinary people could see that thing."

"They can't."

They, he says. Not we.

"However the S.R.O.O. has ways of reading data that is invisible to the human eye." He continues. "Be it scavenged legends or modern technology, we look into anything we can in order to understand the things that shouldn't be. I ask you again, what did you wish for as the winner of the year 2000's Ragnarök?"

"I wished... for the wrong thing." I slide my eyes shut again. I just want to rest.

"Enough moping!" He slams his fist onto the table next to my head, and I'm jerked to attention. "Answer me!"

"...I asked to be healed. I was going to die. In the end it was all for nothing. I'm still just living for myself."

"No." He says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "No you didn't. Asking for your boo-boo to stop hurting doesn't make you come back to life after a bullet goes through your head. Now tell me. What exactly was it that you wished for?"

"I..." I put my hand over my eyes, trying to remember my exact words as my memory unjumbles itself. "I said... I said; 'Don't let me die now.' Or maybe it was just don't let me die.' Forgive me, I guess I should have stopped worrying about bleeding out and thought about my word choice more carefully."

"Yes. You really should have. Fate... What we gather about Fate is that it is very literal when it comes to contracts. Keeping someone bound to its whims by their own devices is how it perpetuates itself. It's likely that Ragnarök initially began as a way for the old gods to appease it. But we all have... Excuse me." The fat man snaps his fingers and a greasy looking woman in a gray suit steps out of the shadows. Doctors push me back down onto the table as I try to get a better look at what she's whispering in his ear.

"Oh yes, do excuse me." The fat man pushes his sunglasses up his nose again. "I get a bit... sidetracked sometimes. The point is, Brady, it seems as though you first said 'don't let me die.' Not 'don't let me die now.' You were shot through the head, and a few seconds later the wound began to heal itself. I believe that due to the way you phrased your plea for life... you may now be immortal."

His voice grows softer as he spells it out for me. Almost like he cares. Unfortunately my mind begins reeling before I can call his bluff, and I let out a gasp as the weight of his words lands on me.