The street had transformed into an impromptu arena. Strangers formed a wide circle around us, their faces flickering between terror and excitement like they couldn't decide which emotion would win. A goddess—an actual goddess—had just challenged me to a fight. In the middle of a public street. In a city I'd arrived in yesterday.
Well. I appear to be in danger.
I bit back a laugh. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit me like a shot of adrenaline. Two days ago, I was washing dishes in a backwater tavern. Now I stood face-to-face with a goddess.
This was front-page news. If Orario had newspapers.
The crowd pressed closer, hungry for violence. I caught snippets of their whispers.
"What did that idiot say to her?"
"Ten thousand valis says she breaks both his arms."
"Is that white-haired kid suicidal?"
I tuned them out and ran the numbers. How do you fight a literal divine being?
Option one: Run.
The outcome was obvious. I'd be branded a coward before I'd even made a name for myself. Word would spread through Orario by nightfall—the white-haired nobody who insulted a goddess, then tucked tail and ran. My reputation would be zero before it began.
Unacceptable. My entire existence in this world was predicated on the acquisition of power. Running was an admission of powerlessness.
Option two: Fight.
The outcomes were far more interesting.
Scenario A (most likely): She'd hand me my ass in spectacular fashion. The downside? Some bruises, maybe a broken bone or two. The upside? I fought a goddess. I didn't flinch. That earned a different kind of respect in this city.
Scenario B (unlikely, but possible): I impressed her. Landed a single, clever hit. Showed a spark of something she liked. A massive high-risk, high-reward victory.
The math checked out. The only logical, profitable move was to fight.
I glanced over to Rumi for a shred of solidarity. My bunny-eared companion had gone pale, her crimson eyes wide with terror. Her long ears pressed flat against her head as she took one deliberate step back, then another, melting into the safety of the crowd.
Traitor.
I rolled my shoulders, felt the satisfying crack of joints loosening up. My face settled into an expression of calm I didn't entirely feel. Across from me, Quetzalcoatl planted her feet in a wide stance, her feathered headdress catching the sunlight like a crown of fire.
"You're awfully quiet, chico," she called, her voice carrying above the murmurs of the crowd. "Having second thoughts?"
"Just first thoughts," I replied. "Trying to decide if I should go easy on you, considering your age and all."
A ripple of shocked gasps ran through the crowd. Someone whispered a prayer. Quetzalcoatl threw back her head and laughed, the sound bright and wild, like a jungle bird's call.
"I like you already," she said, her eyes glittering. "¡Venga, venga! Show me what you've got!"
I couldn't win with strength. That much was obvious. My only play was audacity.
I dropped into a low, ready stance—a street brawler's crouch. My weight shifted to the balls of my feet. I was going to charge. Going to go for broke.
The crowd gasped. Quetzalcoatl's smile widened to something dangerous and pleased. She loved the fire in my eyes. The tension in the air reached its absolute peak.
I tensed, ready to launch myself forward—
A sharp, piercing whistle cut through the air. The unmistakable sound of authority.
The crowd parted like a school of fish avoiding a shark. Three large, imposing figures marched into our impromptu arena, their movements precise and coordinated.
Their uniforms were practical gray and blue, marked with the distinctive elephant-head emblem of the Ganesha Familia.
"Alright, alright, break it up," the lead officer called. He was a broad-shouldered man with close-cropped hair and the dead eyes of someone who'd seen this exact scene play out a thousand times before. "Lady Quetzalcoatl, you know the rules. No unsanctioned duels in the main thoroughfare. Public disturbance."
The change in Quetzalcoatl was instantaneous. The fierce warrior goddess vanished, replaced by a charmingly flustered maternal figure. She pressed a hand to her cheek in an exaggerated "who, me?" gesture.
"Oh my! Officer!" Her voice rose half an octave. "My deepest apologies! You know how it is, I just got so excited about my two newest children here!"
She gestured grandly at me and Rumi, who materialized beside me again now that the immediate danger had passed.
"Just a little... enthusiastic family sparring! A welcome test!" Quetzalcoatl continued, her smile dazzling. "We were just heading home, I promise!"
The officer's eyes narrowed. "Your... children? Since when do you have—"
Before he could finish the sentence, Quetzalcoatl strode forward and grabbed my hand. Her grip was impossibly strong, her skin radiating heat like a furnace. She began to lead me away from the scene.
I wasn't about to leave Rumi behind. Without missing a beat, I reached out my free hand and grabbed hers, pulling her along with us. Her fingers were ice-cold with shock.
"Let go," she hissed, trying to tug her hand free.
"Not a chance, bunny girl," I whispered back. "We're in this together."
We formed a human chain, Quetzalcoatl dragging me, me dragging Rumi, all of us fleeing the scene of our almost-crime. Behind us, the Ganesha officer watched with the resigned expression of a man who just realized how much paperwork lay in his future.
"Lady Quetzalcoatl!" he called after us. "There will be a fine for this disturbance! I'll have it sent to your manor!"
"Sí, sí, put it on my tab!" she called back cheerfully, not slowing her pace.
Quetzalcoatl led us through a dizzying series of turns, down narrow side streets and through busy marketplaces. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew every inch of Orario like the back of her hand. All the while, she hummed a cheerful tune, occasionally punctuating it with bursts of laughter.
"Where are you taking us?" Rumi demanded, still struggling halfheartedly against my grip.
"Home, of course!" Quetzalcoatl replied over her shoulder. "To my manor!"
"We never agreed to join your Familia," I pointed out.
Quetzalcoatl stopped so suddenly that Rumi crashed into my back. The goddess turned, bringing her face close to mine. Her emerald eyes gleamed with mischief and something deeper, something assessing.
"You were looking for a Familia, no? I heard you in the street. Something about trying Hermes and Quetzalcoatl tomorrow? About me being a 'washed-up has-been'?"
I didn't deny it. "We were considering our options."
"And now you have the option right in front of you! The mighty Quetzalcoatl offering you a place!" She spread her arms wide. "Most would-be adventurers wait months for such an opportunity!"
Rumi finally pulled her hand free from mine. She stepped back, her ears twitching nervously.
"You haven't accepted anyone in two years," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why us? Why now?"
Quetzalcoatl's exuberant smile softened into something more genuine. She turned her full attention to Rumi, her gaze lingering on the bunny girl's defiant stance.
"You, pequeña conejita, have a fire inside you." She pressed a finger gently against Rumi's sternum. "A fierce, protective flame. I see how you carry the weight of others on your shoulders. How you fight not for glory, but for survival."
Rumi's eyes widened. She took a step back, clearly unsettled by how accurately the goddess had read her.
Quetzalcoatl turned to me next. Her expression changed, becoming more intense, almost hungry.
"And you, chico..." She circled me slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. "You burn with something I haven't seen in centuries. Not just ambition. Not just pride. Something... primordial." She stopped in front of me again. "You are not what you appear to be."
That made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. How much could she see? How much did she know?
"I'm exactly what I appear to be," I replied carefully. "A nobody looking to become somebody."
"No," she shook her head, her feathers rustling. "You are a king without a crown. A fire without a hearth." Her voice dropped lower. "And I have been looking for a worthy fire to tend."
She took a step back, addressing both of us now.
"Two years ago, I lost my entire Familia. Six children, each chosen for their unique flame. Each precious to me. I vowed I would not choose again until I found flames bright enough to honor their memory." Her voice carried no trace of her earlier playfulness. "Today, I found two."
"Look," I said, "we appreciate the offer, but we need to discuss this—"
"Discuss, yes! Over food and drink!" The playful Quetzalcoatl returned in an instant. She clapped her hands together. "Come! My home is not far. We will talk, we will eat, and if you decide to leave afterward, I will not stop you."
She gave us a look that somehow managed to be both pleading and commanding.
"Consider it an apology for almost pummeling you in the street, sí?"
I exchanged a glance with Rumi. Her initial terror had faded, replaced by cautious curiosity. She gave me a tiny shrug, which I interpreted as reluctant agreement.
"Fine," I said. "Lead the way."
Quetzalcoatl's face lit up with genuine joy. "Excellent! Follow me!"
She turned and continued down the street, this time without dragging us. Rumi and I fell into step behind her.
"This is insane," Rumi muttered under her breath. "We can't join her Familia. She's..."
"Completely unpredictable? Potentially violent? Definitely dangerous?" I supplied.
"Exactly!"
"And also one of the most powerful goddesses in Orario, with a Familia known for its elite members and exclusive training." I kept my voice low. "A goddess who just admitted she hasn't accepted anyone in two years, who personally invited us after a chance encounter in the street."
Rumi gave me a sideways look. "You're actually considering this."
"Think about it, bunny girl. How many Level Ones get personal invitations from First-Tier Familias? This is a shortcut to exactly where we both want to be."
"Or it's a shortcut to an early grave! She nearly attacked you!"
"But she didn't. And now we're having dinner at her manor instead."
I couldn't suppress the slow smile that spread across my face. This situation was beyond perfect. In my previous life, I'd clawed my way from nothing to the top through years of brutal corporate warfare. Here, I'd somehow stumbled into the exact opportunity I needed within days of arrival.
Quetzalcoatl thought she saw something special in me. A "king without a crown."
She had no idea how right she was.
"Well?" Rumi asked, eyeing my expression with suspicion.
"Well," I replied, watching the goddess skip ahead of us, "this is one way to get recruited."