"What do you mean 3 minutes is not enough?" the young man barked, frustrated. "There are men who don't even last 30 seconds."
Average height, lean, fair-skinned, and wavy black hair brushed forward to hide stage two male pattern baldness. Zeth sat in the center, dressed formally, wearing an indescribable expression.
The room was dimly lit, yellowish with golden carvings on wooden walls. Before him stretched a long table. The Apostles stood in white robes threaded with gold, while at the center sat an imposing, muscular figure with a blond beard and curly hair. He was calm, clad in bronze armor. The god was Aeris.
"Listen, child," Aeris' voice echoed in the room, calm yet dominant like thunder in the night sky. "I do not deny that you lasted three minutes in combat against one of my incarnations, nonetheless with human strength."
"And I could have beaten him if not for your intervention!" Zeth interrupted.
"But you see..." The god hesitated, looking away from the mortal. "Your methods are questionable... even unhonorable... Sorry, we can't give you a job."
"Wait... what?" Zeth frowned, but before he could say anything else, he found himself in the middle of the street, with the chair beneath his squishy butt gone. He fell straight onto the white road.
"God of War, you retarded asshole, FUCK YOU!" Zeth yelled, looking up.
The crowd nearby looked at him for a moment. Many people were dressed in black formal suits, while others wore white robes.
Zeth scowled, loosening his tie as he walked through the crowd, avoiding gazes. Nonetheless, he kept complaining in a low tone. "What's even wrong with kicking someone in the balls or throwing dirt in their eyes? Honor in a fight? What moron fights with honor?"
"If only they didn't stop the battle there, I would have pierced my spear into the dumb apostle's ass."
This was the thirtieth interview Zeth had been rejected from. He sat on the coping of a white fountain, looking at another wooden temple before him. The Temple of Freyr.
If he had to compare, this was one of the lower-end temples he had seen. Amravati, also known as the City of Thousand Temples, an ethereal white city floating in heaven, consisted of many large temples, sects, and assemblies. And the height of a temple depended on the followers a particular god had.
Zeth grimly looked at the tallest building in the center of the city, gleaming in reddish gold as it extended beyond what his eyes could see. The Temple of the Sun God. Then he looked at the wooden house before him, a single floor with a cracked roof.
"Economic inequality even in heaven..." he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers and shaking his suit before preparing to enter the temple before him.
The wooden doors creaked open to reveal a wooden table and a chair. Sitting there was a tall man with a gentle, lean build. Long sunlit hair, fair skin he had never seen before, and calm blue eyes like the surface of the ocean.
"I pay my respects to the God of Harvest." Zeth bowed deeply, his face calm.
In response, the god simply smiled.
"Welcome to the temple, my child. Please take a seat." Freyr gestured.
Zeth politely sat on the chair beside him.
"I believe you are here for a job interview?" Freyr's voice echoed in the room, soft and angelic. As his hand hovered in the air, a spherical crystal ball materialized on the table. "Then shall we take a look at the cause of your death?"
Zeth bitterly smiled as he placed his hand on the crystal. A radiant white light filled the room. As it slowly faded, the room around them changed: now, a modern white bedroom appeared, a king-sized bed at its center. On the messy bedsheet lay Zeke, snoring in his silver pajamas.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Young Master, it's about time you left the bed."
A maid entered the room, bowing politely.
But Zeke only turned to the other side.
"Your uncle specifically instructed me to wake you up on time," the maid yelled loudly.
"Young Master, Young Master..." the maid said again.
Zeke's brows furrowed. Eyes still closed, his hand reached for the drawer next to the bed. He grabbed a wad of green cash and threw it straight at her face.
"Letmesbbb slepppmore... kekeke..." Zeke grumbled, refusing to open his eyes.
The maid blushed as she picked up the money from the floor and silently walked out of the room.
Freyr's eyes twitched as he looked at the unfolding scene.
Zeke avoided eye contact.
Freyr concentrated back on the scene.
Zeke turned around and grabbed a pillow between his legs, drooling on the bed, when suddenly a noise jolted him. Zeke ignored it, but another hard noise reverberated through his bed, followed by someone screaming.
"AaFckthem... money-hungry clankers..."
He slowly stood up, grabbing another wad of cash from the drawer, and shambled across the room to open the door. His hands still rubbed his eyes when he threw the wad of cash down the railing.
"Take this and shut up, you idiots..." he yelled, but something felt wrong.
Zeke squinted as his vision cleared. The ground floor was splashed with blood as the paper notes fell onto it, slowly drenching it in red.
Corpses lay on the floor, limbs scattered. Some were faces of staff he knew.
Zeke's pupils widened. He instinctively stepped back when he hit something. Something big and heavy.
Zeke turned around to look at an eight-foot-tall green troll with its arms open wide.
A green humanoid face, yellow teeth bloodied red, and black eyes with red pupils were the last things he saw before the troll clapped its hands against his head, blasting it like a watermelon against a hammer.
The vision ended as Zeke's headless body fell to the floor, and the scene faded away, returning them to the present in the temple's interview room.
"That... must have been horrible," Freyr gasped.
No matter how many times Zeke had seen this play before him, it was still uncomfortable.
He simply sat there, bitterly smiling.
Freyr took a deep breath. "No matter, my child. It is only the duty of gods to show benevolence. You shall worry not, as you will be granted a second life."
"Wait... really?" Zeke's eyes lit up. He barely stopped himself from jumping with happiness. "Does that mean you will really hire me?"
Freyr constantly smiled, holding his hands together. "Of course I will. If gods don't show benevolence, who will?"
Zeke stood and began bowing repeatedly. "Thank you, my lord! You don't know how much it means to me!!"
Freyr chuckled at his reaction. "Still, your résumé, please. I will need to do some formalities."
Zeke quickly opened the black file and took out a bronze sheet with strange engravings. This was the paper he received upon arriving in heaven. Even though he did not understand what was written on it, the gods seemed to value the paper too much.
"Lord of Harvest, you have no idea how grateful I am. Just revive me once, and I will dance butt naked if I have to."
Zeke said with excitement when he noticed Freyr's expression had suddenly changed. The room felt dark as his smile turned to a grimace.
"Mortal..." His voice echoed through the space as he put down the résumé. "Take this, and do not return here. I do not know why you are in heaven, but this place is not for you."
Zeke's brows furrowed. "But the job?"
Freyr looked at him dead serious.
Zeke froze. He felt an unknown pressure slowly crushing his soul.
"Neither I, nor any other god, will ever give you a job."
"NOW YOU MAY LEAVE!"