The Heroic Farce of the 77th Possessor

Darkness enveloped the space. A little girl sat in the chair opposite, beaming brightly as she spoke.

"Say, if someone had destroyed the world about a hundred times and gotten bored, what would they want to do next?"

"Hard to imagine, so I wouldn't know." I tried flexing my unresponsive arm.

"Yeah, yeah, wasn't expecting an answer anyway." The girl crunched on her popcorn, then twisted her lips into a smirk. "I've been craving something clichéd and straightforward. You know, a righteous hero saving this otherworld!"

"...I see." I strained against my unresponsive legs.

"Phew." My body wouldn't budge. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more I struggled, the tighter the threads binding me constricted.

I let out a ragged breath, released the tension, and glared at the girl.

"Told you it's pointless."

"Still, wouldn't it be weird for a kidnapping victim not to resist?"

"Right, right. Normally they'd be screaming and crying up a storm." The girl nodded along with a little hum of approval.

"That's why it's such a letdown. It needs some screams mixed in to really hit the spot." She flashed a meaningful smile and pulled something from her bosom.

It was a toy gun plastered with colorful stickers—a ridiculous design even a child might scoff at. Yet a chill ran down my spine. With the barrel pointed right at me, the sensation sharpened.

"The emotional suppression brainwashing got cranked up too high. Want me to fix it?" The girl grinned sweetly. "Don't worry. It'll only hurt."

Bang!

"...Huh?"

And then my left arm was gone. Pain crashed in a beat late.

"Aaaargh!" My body convulsed wildly. Breath choked off, screams tore from my throat like it was ripping apart.

"Guh... kkh..." Through tear-blurred vision, I saw it. My severed arm rolling on the floor.

My mind went blank. Something rough shoved in—suppressed terror and rage, and the crystal-clear realization that everything had gone horribly wrong.

Right. I'd been at home on my computer when I suddenly ended up here, toyed with by this lunatic before me.

"Fixed~ Gotta dial back the intensity next time." The psycho munched popcorn to the tune of my screams, then appraised me flatly. "Yeah. Now it's getting interesting."

Clap! Applause echoed. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠headache churning my skull eased considerably. I turned my head—my left arm was back, good as new.

But I knew better. That hadn't been some illusion. Phantom pain stabbed my shoulder relentlessly.

The girl glanced at my face and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Ready to get started?"

Another clap. Light flooded in instantly, like spotlights. Squinting, I scanned around.

The space was an empty little theater. My chair sat center stage. The girl lounged in the front row, watching me like it was a show.

"...Ha." Pain still throbbed vividly; my breaths came ragged. But I gritted my teeth and glared. Showing fear here would just amuse the damn brat more.

"What's the point of all this to you?"

"Oh?" Her eyes widened, then she giggled. "Pretty bold, huh? Not a bad type."

Ignoring my question, she snapped her fingers. The white threads binding me vanished. I staggered to my feet; the chair dissolved into smoke.

"Now, before we dive in, why not check out your new body? Something off about it, right?"

"..." As if I needed reminding—I'd felt the wrongness from the start.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Firm muscles. Scarred hands. Overflowing energy. The hyper-masculine body in my view was definitely not mine.

But it was strange. Unfamiliar, yet eerily familiar. The distinctive scars on the back of my hand, this youthful boy's voice—I knew them too well.

Daring not to believe, I looked up.

"Ta-da." The girl popped up right in my face. She thrust a hand mirror at me.

The reflection showed the game's protagonist's face, one I'd seen a thousand times.

"...Aizel."

I'd possessed the hero Aizel's body.

"Correct!" She leaped back to her seat with pinpoint accuracy, grinning innocently. "This is the body you'll be using from now on. Like it? Aizel."

"Hah." My head throbbed, unable to keep up. I let out a hollow laugh, not hiding my scowl. "If I say no or lunge at you, I die, right?"

"Kyahaha! Won't stop you. Don't recommend it, though." Her dress fluttered wildly as she cackled.

...Yeah. By now, her identity was obvious. That outfit matched the goddess from the game perfectly.

Whether real goddess or cosplaying psycho didn't matter. Either way, I was screwed.

"Alright, down to business!" She straightened up, crossing her legs, and cleared her throat dramatically. "Ahem, hero."

With mock solemnity, she declared, "This is your chance to experience a possession isekai tale. The world needs a hero like you~"

Utter bullshit. No sane person would touch that window. No way I'd dance to that bitch's tune.

But.

"Guh... urk." Useless. I yanked my arm with all my might. Leaned in desperately. Yet my right hand stretched out on its own and hit accept.

"Ah, the hero has stamped the contract!" She wiggled her fingers like puppeteering invisible strings, smirking smugly, then snapped again.

"!" My body moved against my will. Knees straightened, back rigid, head forward. I tried to speak, but my mouth wouldn't obey.

"Now it's your turn."

At her words, shadows rippled in the theater corner. An expressionless girl emerged.

She scanned me and sighed faintly.

"Hismea, you synced the timeline right?"

"Yes. Regressed to Aizel's academy enrollment point."

"Great, great. Whoa, the 77th worldline already! This'll be fun."

The goddess-lookalike winked; Hismea waved her hand. Red lines spread across the stage floor, forming a massive magic circle. The woman smirked and snapped.

My rigid body lurched again. Toes slid back, torso lowered. Right hand swept grandly to rest over my left chest—a clownish bow to the audience.

Damn it. I wanted to scream, rip my mouth open and spew this boiling rage.

But my tongue was numb. Lips sealed.

A marionette, through and through.

"Ah."

Suddenly, my stone-stiff lips parted. No relief—just violation as my mouth and tongue danced without me.

"Let the heroic farce of the 77th possessor... begin."

Hahahaha! The girl's peals of laughter filled the theater. Vulgar, carefree cackles. Lips curled in delight at another's torment. That repulsive face burned into my eyes.

The magic circle beneath erupted in light. Vision bleached white. Her nauseating grin lingered to the flickering end.

======

[...Runes...!]

[...Harné... wake up!]

[...Harné, you'll be late for the entrance exam!]

A childish girl's voice clamored in my head. It dragged my eyes open.

No theater lights greeted me. Lush forest. Sunlight filtering through leaves.

I shaded my eyes with a palm and slowly sat up.

"...Noktia?"

"Nothing much. Just an old memory in a dream."

More precisely, from a previous worldline. A nightmare, sure.

Reassuring her, I pushed off the dirt and stood—only to collapse as my legs buckled. Breaths heaved; chest ached.

"Phew... this body's frailty never changes, after ten years."

Slender arms that might snap under a blow. Trembling, I pressed a hand to my chest. Soft mounds yielded; an unsteady heartbeat pulsed into my palm.

That real thrum vaporized the theater memories fast.

"Noktia. How long was I out this time?"

"...System window."

I swiped the air. A glitchy translucent pane flickered up—the goddess's scraps of conscience to her possessors.

"This goddess is useless to the end."

Though that "conscience" had been busted for ages.

I reached for the barely intact inventory tab amid the garbled mess.

"My special meds are all here, right?"

The inventory was half-broken too—items a blurry mess.

"Not this... not that... Ah, here it is. Sigh."

A toy gun with weird designs caught my hand. I shoved it back reflexively. Normally loot, but after that dream, I couldn't stomach it.

Thankfully, the meds surfaced quick. Deep red illicit potion. Gulped it down; life seeped back.

I brushed dirt from hair and clothes, hauled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠myself up. Far from peak, but staying put was riskier.

"...Minutes till the academy entrance exam?"

"This shi—"

"What a bother."

Damn speech filter. I swatted the system pane aside.

Frail girl's body prone to collapse. Too many mishaps piled up, landing me here.

Familiar after ten years since regression. Still, the lethality thrilled in the worst way each time.

"...Better than that body, at least."

Aizel's form, that cursed amusement for the goddess. Chills at the memories. But it had achieved something worthwhile.

'Ahaha! Too much~ Ambush during regression? And Hismea, you betraying me?!''Time-out. If I grovel now, mercy? Guh... w-wait...'

At journey's end, punching a hole through her heart, leaving her gasping.

'S-spare... me... p-plea... kkh...'

Her face then? Delicious, even now.

"Yes, let's go."

I shook off stray thoughts. A retired goddess sulking somewhere? Irrelevant now.

The exam mattered. Miss the main story flow, and ten years here were wasted.

First, escape this forest on the hill path to the academy.

I forced shaky legs upright, pulled my emergency med pouch.

"Late crisis. Gotta try everything."

Tore the pouch with teeth over trembling hands, dumped powder in. Bitter numbness zapped my tongue; brain buzzed.

Soon my heart thundered.

"Ugh..." I swayed but clenched teeth, steadied. Kicked off with wobbly legs—plunged into the woods.