PROLOGUE101

Frost descends rapidly on a snowy mountaintop. A precursor of a blizzard strolls through a skeletal forest. The branches look like they are made of bones. In the center of the forest, there's a courtyard. Snow can't seem to make its way past the black obsidian pavement surrounding the courtyard. The courtyard is as black as the pavement surrounding its grounds. The fields are withered and barren. There is not a single source of color in my scenery.

"So this is what hell looks like." I said calmly.

I stare at the blizzard, which has now found its groove, raging all around the walls of the courtyard. Snow is all I see; the skeletal trees have now blended in with the backdrop of the rushing snow. The scenery is so mesmerizing that I can't seem to find it in myself to be grieving my own death.

"You seem to be a man of immense mental fortitude." A voice calls out from behind me.

Startled, I look back immediately, finding an old man, with a head full of hair and a long flowing beard making his way towards me. He's wearing a long white robe and for a moment, I believed that I was in the presence of Gandalf.

"Do I look odd?" the old man asked cautiously.

Thinking that the old man probably hasn't looked in a mirror in a while, I replied.

"You look like a sage, uh Gandalf like?"

The old man chuckled before saying.

"That's what I was going for, thanks dad."

My eyes widen and I stare at the old man, confused as I begin to wonder whether I misheard him.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No… I think I misheard you, what did you call me?"

The old man began to look down with embarrassment.

"Would you have preferred if I call you father?"

-x-x-x-

The old man begins to stroke his long beard while staring at the young man in front of him.

'Was that too forward? I don't think he even remembers…'

The old man begins to speak hurriedly.

"Do you perhaps remember the Necro Quest?"

The young man goes quiet, his eyes become wide and his mouth drops. He quickly closes his mouth and the old man glances at him curiously as he sees the gears inside the youngling do laps.

-x-x-x-

How does this old man know that trash story? I was certain that I had wiped out all chapters and purged it from the internet so how did he find out? I knew that once on the internet, it's forever on the internet but I figured that only applied to tweets, nudes and other bullshit that a lot of people cared about. My novel barely got 200 readers so I slowly gave up on writing the story. I announced a hiatus and just disappeared from that site. So how?

The old man quickly spoke again.

"Perhaps it would be better if we get seated."

As he spoke, a bench made of what appeared to be coal sprouted up in front of us. My eyes widen slightly again but then they quickly return to normal as I realize that I'm in hell so benches sprouting in the middle of a blizzard makes sense. I get seated as the old man gestures for me to sit next to me, accepting my fate.

"Are you aware that you have died?"

I nod.

"You seem strangely calm for a man who knows that he's dead." The old man said.

"I used to live in a state where I kept wishing I was so dead so I got what I was asking for." I replied.

The old man stares off towards the distance. His eyes directed past the snow, being able to peer past the endless blizzard. His eyes seemed to recognize something or someone that lived past the snow. The blizzard seemed to soften for a bit in my eyes before it continued raging like normal around the courtyard.

"Forgive me for asking you again, but do you remember writing a light novel called Necro Quest?" The old man cautiously asked.

"I didn't think Satan read light novels."

The old man tilted his head, looking confused, he opened his mouth to say something but then I quickly asked him.

"Was my light novel one of the reasons I'm in hell? Was it that bad?"

The old man smiled softly. He turned to look at the blizzard before he continued.

"I'm afraid that you're misunderstanding why you're here. This isn't hell. It's quite far from it. You can consider this place to be my office and the area past the blizzard to be heaven. That's the only good news I have for you I'm afraid. This version of heaven is different from the one you're familiar with it."

"Is heaven essentially just hell?"

The old man stroked his beard for a moment before replying yes.

"It can be considered as a type of hell."

The old man sighed softly before adding.

"Are you aware of the trope called transmigration in light novels?"

Suddenly everything clicked, why the old man kept calling me dad, the old man asking me about the novel and why he referred to the blizzard as his office. I have been transmigrated into my own shitty novel. My brain begins to heat up as I try and remember the character in front of me.

The old man, choosing to ignore my complicated expression, continued.

"You've died and your soul was brought to the world that you've created. You can view this as an alternate universe. You see, your novel…"

Ignoring the old man, I began to think of who he was and why I might have been summoned. As I thought it over, I realized that the King of Devils must succeed in his plans… So I have been summoned to fix it. Now, they said I'm dead so they must have my soul, they are probably planning on making me into one of the characters in order to fix the storyline. This wouldn't be that difficult, barely an inconvenience if I REMEMBERED ANYTHING IMPORTANT ABOUT THE FUCKING STORY. I quickly straighten out and shush the old man with my finger.

"Stop right there Gandalf. I can't help you. I don't remember anything about that story. I wrote it when I was very young. The story had a lot of grammatical errors to the point where I wondered why people even bothered reading it so kindly obliterate my soul and let me just die already." I say immediately.

The old man looked at me and smiled. I take my hand back as he begins to speak.

"Do you know how this universe came to be?"

I sheepishly grinned while scratching the back of my head.

"Not a clue and I don't really care. Kill me old man."

"It was created the same way your universe was created."

With this statement, my grin is wiped off of my face. If I made this universe, somebody made the universe I came from and someone clearly wanted me to suffer as much as I did. I start seeing red but I realize that my anger can't really change anything but the old man's smirk doesn't sit right with me.

I stare at the old man with malice written clearly on my face. I slowly get up from bench and I pat the old man's shoulder. The old man looks at me in a dazed expression before I deck him right across the face.