The Multidimensional Mishap

The Infini-sachet? A dream at a price!

   Two teens stand outside in a backyard, a laundry basket sitting on the nearby porch. A broom, wine bottles, and willow branches stick out from the top. two books sit on a step next to the basket, on with a heavy, weathered leather cover with the initials G. Spinoza engraved on the front, the other a simple spiral notebook with 'Yasmine H.' written in purple pen. One person looks to the other, then back to the cleared out ring half the size of the yard.   
   "So, what do you think?"
   "I think you've gone batshit crazy, and that this won't work."
   "So you're not coming?"
   "I'd go, but there's a small problem. Read the instructions again."
    The two teens peered closer at the page, squinting to read the fine print. 'Note: only one person is gifted the benefits from this deal. Any other person(s), if deemed unfit for the bestowal, will be rendered unconscious. ' Yasmine scratched her still bedheaded locks, stifling a yawn. "So, if this works, one of us will be knocked out? Seems like a lot of work if you asked me."
   The other teen, slippers still on in the cold darkness of the night, their shorts and shirt swaying in the wind, stroked their chin like a wiseman in thought. "If you get chosen, I won't be mad. Just make sure you come home with a bunch of cool stuff! Speaking of cool stuff, what should we wish for?"
   "That's... actually a good question. We could ask for infinite riches. Maybe a genie?"
   "Then what's the point of summoning Judice? I think we should ask for a midnight chicken. If we do, we can get infinite wishes!"
   "Doesn't the midnight chicken come with consequences though? Like, for every wish a baby dies or something?"
   "Fair fair. what about a bag that gives you anything you ask for? That sounds like a deal."
   "I don't know. We both want our own wish, so it'll come down to who doesn't get knocked out."
   "Let's get started then."
   Both girls went silent as they started to work. They brought out the substitute for black salt, a mixture of protection and summoning herbs mixed with ground eggshells, to make three layers for the summoning circle. The actual circle itself was made with a large circle of willow branches they spent a month building. They brought out a circular mirror just a bit smaller than the woven circle, and placed a small couldron the size of one's palm on the surface. They poured water on the reflective surface till it spilled over the edges of the mirror, and some cheap wine from walmart into the couldron along with some rosehips and lavender.
   After adding a few finishing touches and a few tiki torches to tell if the spell worked, they dawned protective bracelets that prevents the rest of their arms and body from going through the first inner circle. "Ready?"
   "Yeah. Let's do this."
   The girl with the slippers grabbed the notebook she'd been using to gather information, as well as the spellbook she found inside a semi-abandoned bookshop. They started chanting, going faster with each sentence, until midnight struck.
   The tiki torches blew out. The wind rustled the trees as if a storm was on it's way. Somewhere in the distance, metal on metal could be heard, and the pages of the notebook flipped to show a scribble of a skull wearing a straw hat, a basket of apples and oranges, a broken vase filled with roses, a small lamia written in the corner of a page covered in equations, and a single pink rose with a pearl sitting in the middle of it. The couldron in the middle of the mirror sunk into its surface, like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake.
   Deafening silence ensues, wrapping the two witnesses in a cloud of uncertainty and hesitation. The mirror's surface ripples. Energy shoots out like a lazer beam from the middle, attempting to pierce the dome of the first barrier. the energy fills the space, vaporizing the willow branches and killing any grass inside the barrier. After many failed attempts, the energy settles down and takes form. A figure forms, first a deer, then a cat, then a spider, and finally a human. The light dimmed, and a naked man stood before them. His hair was an unnatural purple and red, like aged wine. His eye held wisdom and amusement within colors that make a fall forest pale in comparison, for the other was stitched closed with golden thread. He spoke with a zest for death, the tone dark yet pitch high. "Who has summoned me? Who has disturbed my eons of slumber?"
   "We have-!" The lone teen said, looking where their friend once stood. She was on the ground, knocked out and fast asleep. "What's your name, lone survivor? You seem to be the only one strong and weathered enough to withstand my energy's presence."
   "(Y/N). My name is (Y/N) Spinoza. I've summoned you for a wish, and in return I offer one of my family's precious possessions."
   (Y/N) holds up a basket of dusty bottles brought up from the cellar. Some had readable dates going back way before the prohibition, others with faded dates and names in lost languages. The man smiled with glee, reaching out to take the basket before being stopped by the barrier. "Nuh uh uh. We haven't made a deal yet, Judice."
   Taunted (Y/N), taking a bottle out and shaking it, playing with the peeling wax. Judice looked at them like a mom looking at a child playing with matches, and started to panic. "No, nononono. Fine, I'll grant one wish, but it'll come at a price even wine can't pay. Deal?"
   He held out his hand, a look of mischief in his eye. (Y/N) looked at his hand, then back to the basket, and glared. "What kind of price?"
   They asked, withdrawing further. He sighed, crossed his arm, and summoned a cane for him to lean on. "Depends, what do you want?"
   (Y/N) thought for a while, then remembered their conversation with their friend. "I want a satchel that will give me anything i wish for without consequences. That's my wish."
   "Are you sure? The actual wish itself will cost you quite a bit for something like that."
   "What's the price, then? I want to know before i finalize my decision."
   Judice summoned the Big Book o' Prices and a pair of reading glasses, then started to flip through a few pages. "This technically goes under wishing for infinite wishes, and based on the demands behind it.... carry the five, add the lack of soul sacrifices, subtract the lack of chicken feet..."
   After some silence, he sits up, his face grim. With a booming voice, laced with the scent of death and life, he announced the verdict. "For your wish, your price... you must abandon your anchor in this world, and serve as a savior for worlds regarded as nonexistent. You must save them, and die to move on to the next one in trouble. When you are not saving worlds, you must live in the in-between, to never feel the sun, or see the moon, or feel the wind on your face ever again! Everyone here will forget you, and you shan't even have a marked grave. Do you accept these conditions, mortal?"
   Silence, the same as before. Judice's words sunk in to their mind, the weight of the of the world on their shoulders, no pun intended. With one word, (Y/N) plunged themselves into a life no one would want if they knew the truth.
   "Yes."