February 18th, 2025Somewhere in California
I laid there staring at the ceiling, doing absolutely nothing useful.
The fan above me spun in lazy circles, squeaking every few turns like it had a grudge against silence. My phone rested on my chest, screen still glowing from the YouTube video I wasn't even watching. Something about a guy turning a shipping container into a tiny home—yeah, real groundbreaking stuff. Not like I had anything better to do.
I was twenty-three, living in a half-decent apartment I could barely afford. No degree, no girlfriend, no serious plans. Just working part-time at a gas station, surviving paycheck to paycheck, and figuring things out later—whenever later decided to show up.
The air smelled like dust and leftover pizza. A crust was still on the nightstand. I didn't even bother to throw it out. My eyes felt heavy, but my brain wouldn't shut up. You know that feeling? Like your thoughts just keep looping the same dumb questions.
What am I doing with my life?Should I have stayed in school?Did I even lock the front door?
Yeah. That kind of night.
I sighed and shifted to my side, finally letting the phone slide off my chest and onto the mattress. My blanket was half tangled around my legs, and the room felt warm, even though it was February. Typical California winter. I reached up and rubbed my eyes. Maybe if I slept now, I could pretend tomorrow would be different.
I closed my eyes.
And that's when it happened.
11:59 PM
It didn't start with a bang. No flashing lights. No dramatic music. Just... nothing.
I opened my eyes again, and something was wrong.
First thing I noticed: no ceiling. The white paint and fan? Gone. Replaced by sky—pitch black, scattered with stars that looked way too close, like they were drawn by hand. I blinked, once, twice, sitting up slowly.
The second thing I noticed: trees. Massive ones. Way taller than anything I'd ever seen, their branches curling like claws above me. Moss hung from them like curtains, swaying slightly even though I couldn't feel any wind.
The third thing: no bed. I was lying on grass.
Cold, soft, slightly damp grass.
"What the hell…?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
I stood up too fast, heart already pounding. My head spun for a second before I steadied myself. I looked around—no buildings, no lights, no traffic sounds, no phone in my pocket. Just me, the trees, the stars, and a quiet that felt too complete.
I slapped my jeans and hoodie, hoping maybe my phone was just buried somewhere in the folds.
Nope. Empty.
Then I heard it.
A voice—not out loud, but inside my head. Clear. Calm. No accent, no emotion.
[Son of God System initializing...]Welcome, Falcon Jostar.
My stomach dropped. I stumbled back a step, eyes darting around.
"What the hell is going on?" I said out loud. "Who said that?"
No answer.
Then the voice came again.
You have been chosen by Heaven.Your role is ordained. Your path is yours to shape.Activating Unique Skill: Mandate of Heaven.
"Chosen by who?!" I shouted into the trees. "What is this, a prank? Is this a dream?"
Silence.
Then—
Skill Activation Successful.Title Acquired: Chosen by HeavenTitle Acquired: Son of God
I felt... something. Like a warm wave rushing through my chest. Not painful. Not pleasant either. Just—real. Like my body had just synced with something that didn't belong in it until now.
My hands shook.
"This isn't a dream, is it…?" I whispered.
12:01 AM
I sat down again. Cross-legged. Breathing slower now, trying not to freak out. My heart was still beating like I'd run a marathon, but there was no point screaming anymore. No one was around to hear me.
After a moment, I said, "What the hell is the 'Mandate of Heaven'?"
Nothing happened.
Then I remembered how it said "Skill Activation Successful." Maybe it was like a game. I hesitated, then tried again.
"System," I said, "tell me what the Mandate of Heaven does."
This time, the voice replied instantly:
Mandate of Heaven (Unique Skill): Everything the user wills shall be made possible within the bounds of imagination and divine authority.
The world shall follow the will of the Son of God.
My mouth went dry.
I blinked at the air around me, hoping maybe some kind of UI would show up, but nothing did. I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to make sense of it.
"So you're telling me… I can do anything?"
No answer.
"Create stuff? Change things? Summon people?"
Yes.
I sat there for a few more seconds, heart finally slowing. The cool air didn't feel so cold anymore. I should've panicked harder, but something deep down—something I didn't understand yet—made me feel weirdly calm. Like the fear didn't stick the way it should have.
Still, I couldn't ignore how insane this all sounded.
I stood again, slower this time, and looked at my hands.
"Alright," I mumbled. "If this is real… let's test it."
12:06 AM
I raised my hand slightly and said the first stupid thing that came to mind.
"Give me… a flashlight."
Nothing happened.
I frowned. "A working flashlight," I said again, more clearly, trying to picture it in my head.
A second passed.
Then it just appeared in my hand—no pop, no glow, no effects. It was just there, solid and cold.
My heart skipped a beat. I flipped the switch.
Click.
Light flooded the forest floor around me.
"…Holy crap," I whispered.
And then, without meaning to, I smiled.
12:07 AM
The flashlight stayed lit in my hand—real, solid, like I'd picked it off a store shelf five seconds ago.
I waved it around slowly. The beam cut through the mist drifting between the trees. Some birds in the distance flapped off into the darkness, probably spooked by the sudden light. I turned the flashlight over, pressed the buttons again. It even had a low-beam mode and strobe. Batteries full. No brand.
Like it existed just to work. Not to be sold. Not to break.
I looked down at my hand gripping it, then slowly exhaled through my nose.
"This is nuts…"
Another minute passed. I didn't speak. I just stood there.
Then I said the one thing I'd been avoiding since that voice first spoke.
"…Son of God?"
My voice cracked a bit on the last word. It sounded ridiculous out loud.
I sat down again. Not from panic—just because standing suddenly felt like too much.
"Okay," I muttered. "Let's back up."
I rubbed the side of my head, flashlight still on in my lap, pointed at the grass.
"I get the whole 'isekai' thing. Guy gets sent to another world, gets powers. Yeah. I've seen that before. But this?" I pointed a finger at the air like I was talking to someone, even though no one was there.
"Son of God? That's not just some cool nickname you throw around."
No response.
I chuckled, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Like… what does that even mean? Is this a title thing? A metaphor? Are you saying I'm a prophet? Or do you actually mean…?"
I didn't say the last part out loud. I didn't want to.
I let my head drop into my hands. "If this is a prank, it's messed up. If it's not, then… I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with that."
You are not hallucinating.
I froze. The voice. Again. But softer now.
You have been chosen by Heaven.Your spirit was judged worthy. You are now the Son of God in this world.
I looked up. "What world?"
You will know it in time.
"Why me?" I said. "There are, like, eight billion people on Earth. Why me out of all of them?"
You asked for purpose.
That stopped me cold.
I blinked. "What?"
In your heart, you longed for meaning. For structure. For a world where you could build something that lasts.Heaven does not choose randomly.
I stared into the darkness for a long time after that. I didn't respond right away.
Had I asked for this?
Not literally. But yeah… I'd thought about it. Wished the world made more sense. Wished I had some kind of direction. Some kind of real chance to build something. Something I wouldn't just walk away from when it got hard.
"…This still feels way above my pay grade," I muttered.
That is why you were given the System.
I sat back, letting the words settle. I didn't know what "being the Son of God" even meant here. I didn't feel holy. I didn't feel divine. I felt like a regular guy with messed up sleep habits and too much takeout in his fridge back home.
But I couldn't deny what had just happened. I made a flashlight out of thin air.
"…This isn't a dream, is it?"
No.
12:11 AM
I slowly stood again, gripping the flashlight like it was a weapon. Not because I needed to fight anything, but because holding something real helped me stay grounded.
"Alright," I said, talking to the air. "Let's just say, for now, I believe you."
I looked around. The trees were still there. The stars hadn't changed. Nothing looked fake.
"You said I can bend reality to my will?"
Correct.
I took a deep breath.
"Okay. Then… I want to know where I am. Like, on a map. Can I get one?"
Affirmative. Summoning map interface…
A faint white shimmer appeared in front of me—a floating screen, simple and clean. It showed a massive landmass surrounded by smaller islands, some marked, some grayed out. In the center of the map was a blinking blue dot. That was me.
I stared at it.
"Looks… big," I said.
Continent: Auraleth.Region: Arlan's Hollow.No sentient life within 10 kilometers.
"Well, at least I won't get jumped," I mumbled. "That's something."
The screen faded after a few seconds unless I willed it to stay.
And I realized something in that moment. Maybe I didn't have all the answers. Maybe I didn't even want this. But if this was real, if I'd been dropped into a world that worked on will and imagination...
...then maybe I had the chance to do something right for once.
Even if I didn't understand it all yet.
Even if the title still made my skin crawl.
Son of God. Me.
Still felt way too big.
12:12 AM
The forest was quiet again, but my brain was loud.
I walked a few steps away from where I first woke up, flashlight beam scanning the grass, as if I'd find a clue lying there like a receipt.
I didn't.
I stopped by a crooked tree root, kicked a stone with my shoe, and looked up into the sky. The stars above weren't Earth's. I didn't recognize a single constellation. That confirmed it.
"…Hey. System," I said, still staring at the sky, "what does it mean to be the 'Son of God'?"
The answer didn't come immediately. It gave me a second—like it was thinking. Or maybe it just wanted me to.
Then the voice returned:
The title "Son of God" is not symbolic. You were chosen by the Divine Authority of this world. Your soul bears the mark. Your will reshapes creation. The laws of this world will respond to you as their origin.
I turned the flashlight off and let the dark settle again. It felt more fitting somehow.
"…So wait, does that mean God's my… actual father?"
Yes.
That answer hit different.
Like getting socked in the chest—not from pain, but from weight. I wasn't religious back on Earth. I wasn't atheist either. I was more of a "figure it out later" type. But this? This was something else.
"So…" I rubbed the back of my neck. "Did I have a mother?"
No. You were not born in the traditional sense. You were chosen. Created, soul and all, by Divine Will, through reincarnation. Your body is human. Your soul is not.
"Wait, wait, wait…" I held up both hands. "So I was human? On Earth?"
Yes. Falcon Jostar, born April 22nd, 2001, Earth-standard calendar. Chosen at age 23. Your Earth life served as calibration.
"Calibration? Like I was a test model?"
You were given free will to develop your values, morals, and character before receiving your inheritance.
I sat down again, leaning against the thick bark of a nearby tree. My head was spinning—but not like panic spinning. It was more like processing. Slow, heavy thoughts dropping into place.
"So let me get this straight," I said, eyes closed. "You're telling me… I lived my life like any normal guy—grew up, worked dead-end jobs, flunked college… and all of that was just prep for this?"
Yes.
I snorted. I couldn't help it. "That's one hell of a prep course."
No reply.
"And all this time, I was... what? A divine heir without even knowing it?"
Correct. That knowledge would've corrupted your Earth development. Humility was required.
I let out a long breath and stared at the treetops. The stars were shifting slightly now, like the planet itself was turning under me.
I tried to imagine what kind of being could even decide this sort of thing. Choose a soul, build a system, drop it into a magic world, and say "Hey, this guy? He gets to rewrite the rules."
And then I asked something I didn't even know was sitting in my chest until it came out.
"…Did God ever... talk to me? I mean—before all this?"
A pause.
No. But He watched.
"…The whole time?"
Every step.
That one made me sit there for a while.
Not from fear. Not from pressure. Just... a weird kind of weight. Not heavy like a burden. Heavy like meaning. Like being seen for the first time and realizing someone always saw you.
I picked up a stick near my foot and started poking it into the dirt. Just something to keep my hands busy while my brain caught up.
"Alright…" I muttered. "Let's say I'm not crazy. Let's say all of this is true. What now? What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"
That is up to you.
"Helpful," I mumbled.
You have full control over how your story begins. But your mission has been set.
I raised an eyebrow. "Mission?"
You are to build an empire. One founded on justice, law, structure, and liberty. A nation destined to unify, not conquer.
I squinted. "So... not a kingdom?"
No. An empire. But not in the traditional sense. It will be governed by a system of your design, where power is checked, freedom is sacred, and authority is earned.
"…That sounds familiar."
Your heart already knows the design. Your will shall bring it to form.
I looked down at the dirt I'd been doodling in with the stick. I'd drawn a simple square with three stars inside. Didn't even notice I was doing it.
I brushed it away and stood again, stretching my arms and cracking my neck. Still sore. Still tired.
Still human—at least, kind of.
12:18 AM
A chill rolled through the air. I shivered and rubbed my arms. My hoodie wasn't enough out here.
"Alright," I said. "If I really have this power... let's try something a little bigger."
I focused. Not too hard. Just enough to picture it clearly.
"I want a coat," I said. "Black. Thick. Hooded. Pockets. Waterproof. And warm."
Nothing dramatic happened. No flash, no thunderclap. Just… shff—and suddenly it was draped over my shoulders like it had always been there.
I blinked and felt the fabric. It was soft on the inside, windproof on the outside. Fit like it was tailored.
I zipped it up and smiled faintly. "Okay. I'll admit—that's kinda dope."
You have used 0.001% of your Willpower for today.
"Wait, what? I have a limit?"
You may summon anything within the bounds of your imagination, but the scale of what you create consumes proportionate Willpower.
You are currently at 100%. Your Willpower will regenerate hourly until your command over reality becomes absolute.
"Good to know," I muttered. "So no building castles just yet."
Not unless you will it.
"…Right."
The coat warmed me up fast, but the questions in my head wouldn't shut up.
I sat back down, letting the cool breeze nip at my cheeks as I stared at the strange stars again. The same thought kept coming back.
Was He still watching?
"System," I said quietly, voice barely louder than my breath, "is He watching me now?"
Yes.
I paused.
That wasn't some comforting, flowery answer. No "He's always in your heart" or "He's watching over you." Just yes. Straightforward. Certain.
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled slowly.
"…Does He ever talk?"
Rarely. He intervenes only when necessary. Your journey requires your own choices.
"So... no booming voice from the sky? No fatherly advice? No weird metaphors I'm supposed to pretend I understand?"
No.
I cracked a short laugh. "Figures."
Still… I wasn't mad about it. Just curious.
"Will I ever meet Him?"
That is unknown. It depends on the path you take.
That answer made me sit still for a while. I didn't know what I was expecting—some revelation, maybe. Or some emotional swell like in those movies where the hero meets their destiny and it all clicks.
But this?
It wasn't like that.
It was heavier. Not bad. Just… real.
It was the kind of quiet that came with realizing the rules had changed. That the old world—the Earth me—was already fading. And the new one didn't come with a guidebook. Just… a voice. A system. And a title I didn't ask for.
"…If I was chosen by Heaven," I said slowly, thinking it through out loud, "then why say I've always been the 'Son of God'? Doesn't being chosen mean I wasn't before?"
The system didn't answer immediately.
Then:
You were always the Son of God by design. That truth was hidden until the time came for it to matter.
Being chosen by Heaven refers to the formal recognition of your role by the world itself—the moment the world bent to your Will. It is the world that chooses to follow, not God.
I blinked a few times, digesting that.
"So... I was born for this. Not just picked."
Correct.
"And 'Chosen by Heaven' means... the world accepted it?"
Yes. You were chosen by Heaven. But made by God.
I sat there for another minute, quiet.
So this wasn't like being handed a badge or getting knighted. This was built into me from the start. I didn't earn the title—I was it.
Still didn't know how to feel about that.
"…What if I screw up?" I asked.
Then you learn.
"That's it?"
That is what free will is for.
I stared down at my hands.
Same hands I'd always had. Nothing glowing. No weird symbols or divine markings. Just regular hands, with the same fading ink stamp on my wrist from the bar I went to last weekend.
Son of God, huh?
Didn't feel like it.
12:26 AM
The wind had picked up a little. The night air cut through the trees, rustling leaves like whispers I couldn't quite understand.
I stood up again. I didn't want to sit around all night asking questions. I needed to do something. Anything.
First thing's first.
I looked around the dark clearing. I couldn't stay out here forever.
"Alright. Let's try something bigger."
I took a slow breath and focused—not on an item this time, but an idea.
"I want... a shelter. A small wooden cabin. One room. Fireplace. Bed. Desk. Window. Made from local wood. Realistic. Like something someone could actually build here."
The moment the words left my mouth, I felt it—something shift in the air. The space around me rippled, like heat off asphalt.
Then: thunk.
Right there, maybe fifteen feet from where I stood, a full log cabin stood like it had always been there. Smoke curled from the chimney, windows flickering with firelight. It even smelled like fresh pine and cedar.
"…Whoa."
You have used 3.5% of your Willpower.
I approached the cabin cautiously, like it might vanish if I blinked too hard.
But it didn't. It was solid. Real.
I touched the door. The wood was warm to the touch from the inside fire. When I opened it, I found exactly what I pictured—simple bed, small writing desk, stacked logs by the hearth, and a little glass window with a view of the moonlit trees.
I stepped inside and shut the door.
The fire crackled. The floor creaked under my boots. I sat down on the bed and let the silence wrap around me again.
Everything about this felt… unreal.
But I couldn't deny it anymore.
This was real.
And I was the Son of God.
Whether I felt ready or not.
12:31 AM
I sank back against the cabin wall, just letting the warmth of the fire seep into my bones. I wasn't cold anymore—but it still felt like I was thawing from something deeper.
I stared into the flames. They moved lazily, like they weren't in a rush to burn anything. Just... existing. Doing what they were made to do.
Kinda wish I had that kind of clarity.
A thought came to me, quiet at first. Then it stuck. Hard.
"…Am I supposed to build something in His name?"
You may, if it is your Will.
"I mean... if I'm His son, and He made me for this... should I? Like, not for show. Not to shove it in people's faces. But out of respect?"
You are free to honor Him as you see fit. Worship is not demanded. Faith is not forced. That is His principle.
I nodded slowly. That tracked. Free will. Not forced devotion.
Still...
"What about a temple or something? A church maybe? A place people can go to offer prayers? Not like the controlling cult types—but something real. A way for people to connect."
The system responded immediately this time:
If you wish to create such a place, the system can assist you in designing it. It will reflect your intent. If built sincerely, it may become a foundation of faith in this world. One not of fear, but of choice.
I breathed out.
Alright. That felt right.
A temple could be more than just a symbol. It could be a place people come when they don't know what the hell is going on in their lives. When they're scared. When they're angry. When they need something bigger than themselves to anchor to.
I guess I understood that more now than ever.
"…What would I even call that religion?" I asked, mostly to myself. "Is there already one? Or would I be starting something from scratch?"
There is no existing doctrine of your Father in this world. If you wish to create one, it will be the first of its kind here. The name, structure, and teachings are yours to define—guided by what you believe His will to be.
I sat back again, thinking.
That felt heavy. Not bad—just… like holding something sacred. Something you don't want to screw up.
But I didn't feel pressured. More like… entrusted.
I'd think on it.
12:35 AM
The wind outside was dying down, and the sounds of the forest grew a little softer. I laid back on the bed, arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling.
One more question had been bugging me.
"If He's my Father... does He have a name?"
He has many. Across realities, cultures, and languages, He has been called by thousands of names. But to you, He is Father. That is the name He chose for your relationship.
"Okay," I said quietly. That one landed heavier than I expected.
Father.
Not just some divine force or cosmic creator. Not some cold, distant thing floating above existence.
Father.
I closed my eyes for a moment. That word felt warm.
But another thought followed it.
"…Did He ever give me a name?"
Yes.
My eyes snapped back open. I sat up.
"What do you mean? My name's Falcon Jostar. That's what my parents gave me."
Correct. But it was not random.
He subtly influenced their hearts. He guided their thoughts, gently—without them knowing. He liked the name Falcon. It suited your nature, your purpose, and your freedom.
I blinked. "…What about my last name? Jostar?"
That was His. Your Father's name is Jostar. He selected a family line on Earth with that name so you would carry it in this life.
I sat still for a full minute.
So my name wasn't just mine. It was His, too.
And somehow, it didn't feel invasive. It felt... thoughtful. Like the kind of move only someone who truly cared would bother to make.
A small smile crept across my face.
"Guess I've been carrying part of Him this whole time."
You always have.
12:41 AM
The fire had settled into a calm, steady rhythm. Outside, I could hear distant sounds—maybe an owl, or something like it. But nothing threatening.
I looked around the cabin again. Still hard to believe I made this just by asking for it.
"I really can do anything?" I asked, not sarcastic—just curious.
If it is your Will, and you imagine it clearly, it shall be.
"…Like an army?"
Yes.
"Legions?"
Yes.
"…Even angels?"
If you Will it, you can summon, create, or command angels, archangels, divine beings, and more. Your Will governs reality.
I leaned back again, brain spinning.
"So I could build an empire. Literally."
Correct.
I grinned. Not smug. Not crazy. Just… steady.
I was starting to understand what this was.
Not a game. Not a power trip. But a mission.
A purpose.
And if He was watching… then I was going to make Him proud.
12:42 AM
I stared at the ceiling again, mind turning over everything I'd just learned.
I could build anything. Create anything. Summon anyone.
That word stuck.
Summon.
My breath caught a little, and I turned my head toward the fire again. Its glow was softer now, dimmer—like it knew the night was calming down.
"…Hey," I said aloud, quietly.
The system responded instantly—calm, always listening.
Yes, Falcon?
"…If I can summon anything I imagine…"
I paused. Thought it through.
"…Can I summon Him?"
Clarify: do you mean your Father?
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. God. Can I summon Him?"
There was a beat of silence. Not awkward. Not cold. Just... respectful.
No.
I blinked.
Your Will governs reality within this realm, Falcon. But He exists beyond realms. Beyond structure. Beyond the limits of Will. He is not bound by your power, because your power comes from Him.
"…So He's… outside even the system?"
Correct. He is the source of this system. Of your title. Of your mandate. Of your very existence. He cannot be summoned or commanded.
I exhaled softly, nodding. It made sense, even if it stung a little.
"…But is He watching?"
Always.
I smiled, just a little. There was peace in that answer. Not total understanding. But peace.
"…Will I ever get to meet Him? Like… for real? Not just in whispers or through You?"
One day. When the time is right. When your journey is complete.
My eyes fell closed slowly.
"Good," I whispered. "I wanna shake His hand someday."
He would like that.
12:51 AM
The fire had gone from roaring to breathing, the soft orange glow flickering low against the walls.
I laid back on the bed, eyes drifting closed. For once, the thoughts in my head weren't screaming at me. Just whispers now. Quiet enough to rest.
Sleep came slower than usual, but gentler too.
Sometime later…
I stood in a field of golden grass.
No sky. No wind. Just light—bright and warm, but it didn't hurt my eyes.
I wasn't scared. Didn't even question how I got there.
Everything felt weightless.
Then I heard it—faint at first. A hum. A deep note that resonated more in my chest than in my ears.
I turned.
There was a figure in the distance.
Too far to see clearly. Too bright to make out any details. But it wasn't threatening. If anything, it felt… familiar.
Safe.
I took a step forward.
And then another.
But the figure raised a hand—just a gesture—and I stopped. Not frozen. Just… at peace.
I didn't need to move.
I didn't need answers.
I felt it in my heart: He was proud of me already.
Even if I hadn't done anything yet.
Even if I still had doubts.
Even if I didn't understand everything.
That feeling alone was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
But I didn't cry.
I just stood there, letting it fill me.
And then—without words—I felt it:
We'll meet. One day.
The figure turned slowly, fading into the light. The grass around me shimmered like sunlight on water.
Then it all dissolved.
1:22 AM
I woke up with a breath—not a gasp, just a long, deep inhale. Like I'd come up from a calm ocean.
The fire was still glowing faintly.
I looked up at the ceiling again.
"Thanks for that," I whispered.
No response this time.
Didn't need one.