Irregur.

  Chosen.

  Hero.

  Protagonist.

  Vilin.

  So many different titles for all the people I've been bound to. So many different stories I'm required to help push them along, or break through. So many different worlds, yet only glimpses of each one.

  It's tough, being a Divine Voice, or a "System" as my most recent incarnations have been called tely. My assignments are automatic and I get no say in the matter, but honestly? I can't say I don't look forward to them. The in-between is quite dull. Sure, some of my hosts have been... well, let's just say, they're certainly motivated. But when their life ends, so too does mine.

  Sort of.

  As a Divins Voice, I get the benefits of never re-entering "The Cycle". Instead, my divinity simply returns to the universal core to rest until another "complete soul" is transferred into a world, and that new World's Will desires a story to be completed.

  Some provide quests for entertainment, some for power, some to save their core world from destruction, but regardless of who they are, they all gotta go through me.

  The Divine Voice. One of the universes Handlers if you will, and the absolute best one, at that!

  ...

  Okay, maybe that's a lie. I'm a mid teir Divine Voice, assigned to mortal bodies. Only the top brass get assigned to immortal realms, but still.

  In my teir? Definitely top notch.

  Of course, I'm not actually divvying up the power for all these hosts, I'm just kinda... sorting it into the right spots? I mean, it's not like they can alter their souls on their own. I'm just... putting the stats where they ask me to. Their existence as a Complete Soul already tends to absorb energy at an arming rate, and when the Will of the World gives them gifts, well, it only goes faster. I've helped facilitate the destruction AND birth of demon lords, toppled regimes, started syndicates, and so so much more.

  I mean, not directly. But like, I was there for it. You know? Part of the team! Like a... like a... okay, I can't think of a good analogy. A mechanics toolbelt!

  No, that's dumb. A sonic screwdriver!

  ...That's somehow worse.

  Look, I was there, okay? That's the important part. Rise and fall of empires and all that. I know how these things go.

  Which is why this cycle is so... confusing.

  Even the most arrogant World Wills give a debriefing, A synopsis, Hell- a bulleted spreadsheet if they aren't psionically versed! But this?

  Nothing. Nill.

  I feel myself getting assigned, my consciousness pulled toward one of the reality folds that a Complete Soul left in its wake, but there's no context! How am I supposed to work in these conditions?!

  Whatever, I'm a professional. I can overlook the ignorance this once. Everyone has a first time at something after all, and I'm nothing if not patient.

  I prepare for the inevitable [System Initializing...] screen to appear, posing my divinity for first contact with my host. I wait.

  and wait.

  But there's no initialization. No mechanical inhibitors limiting my emotional state. No surge of information on what role I'm going to help facilitate.

  Just... wind?

  That's a breeze, right? My memories scramble to make sense of the feeling against my form, only to be shell-shocked by the fact that I have a physical form. A veritable sensory avanche suddenly hits me. The sun's warmth soaking into one of my sides, the cold pinpricks of morning dew scattered among a carpet of soft grass against my back, the soft grain of trodden dirt and pebbles against my bottom side, all brought together into an orchestra of feelings lead by the gentle breeze enveloping me in the softest of kisses..

  It's... heavenly. Even the jagged stone pressing uncomfortably against one of my corners has such a novel ruggedness that it doesn't detract from the awe I feel. I find myself wishing desperately that this form had eyes, just so that I could cry.

  God, grant me lungs to let out the sob shuddering in my soul!

  The inability made the emotions feel so bottled up, like I might explode from this cacophany of joy and wonder.

  I sat, soaking up the heady feeling, forgetting about my purpose - until I felt the vibration. It took me a moment to realize 'footsteps'! My host! Of course!

  I try to gather myself, attempting to wrench my mind free of the overstimution despite my internal protests.

  "Okay. You got this. Just a couple deep breaths, you done this before. All I have to do is - EEK!" My thoughts come to a screeching halt as a new kind of warmth wraps around me.

  A hand.

  A rugged, warm hand, supporting all my curves, a pair of fingers running sensually up my spine! The texture of his fingers rasping along my form, the gentle care in which I'm lifted, like I'm the most delicate treasure, it left my divinity absolutely quivering.

  Is-Is this the "Lover's Embrace"?! I'd be gasping if I could. From one sensation to the other, It's a Rollercoaster of feelings, and I can't help but want more!

  I feel the registration of my host begin. Of course it's my host! Who else would be so... forward with me but my dear host! My ability to "see" slowly activates now that registration has started, and the realization that I'm some kind of book takes a bit of a backseat. I grasp onto the beginnings of the registration desperately, flooding my divinity into his waiting fingers, pushing further than normal just to feel my energy coursing up his thick arms. The subtle brush of his body hair, the tightly corded muscles, the warmth radiating from him! I reach even higher, inhaling his very existence: I feel the thump of his heart in his chest, the soft-firmness of his chest, the feeling of -

  Air?

  A moment of freefalling confusion occurs before I find myself nding unceremoniously, back-first on the ground.

  Ow! He just threw me!? The Divine Voice?! Why would he... oh. Crap.

  I realized betedly that, maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't be getting so... handsy with my host. First impressions are important, and now mine is tainted by me groping his arms with my energy! Gods, I'm burning with embarrassment.

  Okay, I can still salvage this.

  Be professional. Act cool. Confident. You got this.

  I grasp onto the new form's communication. No system Interface, no text box? Right, right. I'm a book. Ink it is! I swirl it around the page to catch his attention, noticing that he'd already looking at me with suspicion.

  I'm not a perv! I swear!

  Whatever, let's do this. Ahem:

  "Greetings Host Bernard"

  FyreDrop