On the first day after he transmigrates, Solin wakes up in a filthy ditch with his shoes stolen.
On the second day, he discovers he owes money to loan sharks, and his creditor is pounding on the door.
On the third day, gods start falling from the sky.
Actually falling.
One streak of golden light, one streak of red, each crashing down hard enough to shake Baldur’s Gate. The Flaming Fist seals off the city, the Thieves’ Guild shuts down, and the streets fill with civilians crying out in panic.
Solin crouches in a corner, completely unfazed.
He’s already this broke. What’s there to fear from the end of the world?
Then a dying old tiefling stuffs a package into his hands before gray-robed men drag him away.
Then a cold, mechanical voice rings in Solin’s mind:
[Deep Blue System initializing...]
Solin looks at the glowing shard in front of him and falls silent.
Then he glances at the distant battlefield, where saints are fighting hard enough to tear heaven and earth apart.
The gods over there are fighting over the Tablets of Fate.
Good thing he has a System. Otherwise, what would be the point of transmigrating?
