Chương 1: A Death of Altruistic Intent

He had been walking for two days through the jungle, nearly dead from exhaustion and thirst, when the sun suddenly disappeared. It wasn't like a cloud blew over, or even like an eclipse. More like a light bulb burning out. The sky just blinked a few times and went dark. Fully dark, like he'd been dropped into the bottom of a well and had a bucket of ink poured over his head for his trouble. A few seconds of that, and then there was an explosion of color so vivid that he actually fell onto his backside.

Fell into the wet carpet of decomposing matter that made up the jungle floor. The sky lit up with every hue he had ever seen, and quite a few he hadn't. Just as fast as it flashed in front of him, the spectrum of color receded again. He was back on the path, just as hot and as tired and as thirsty as he had been before. Only a few things had changed. But they were big ones. First, the sun was now blue. Violet maybe? Elias had always been a bit colorblind.

However, there was a second change more pressing than naming that specific shade of sun. In the middle of the path he'd been following now stood a giant mushroom. Stood was a very important word there, because it was literal. The mushroom had legs. It had feet. In fact, it had many of the anatomical features one would typically associate with a human being rather than a fungus.

"Hello there!" the mushroom said. Elias knew right away then that something on his trek through the jungle had gone terribly, irreversibly wrong.

"Are you … are you real?" he asked.

"You know," said the mushroom, "It is a bit disappointing, if I'm honest. Because that is the same question you all ask me. And here I am an original thinker. A unique mind. A snowflake. You know how long it takes me to figure out how exactly I'm going to appear before a particular human? Ages! But in the end, it doesn't matter what form I choose to take, does it?

No matter how deeply I've probed a person's psyche, no matter how perfectly I've tailored my appearance to their needs, the first thing they always express is some incredulity about whether or not I am real. Downright exhausting."

"Well … there is no need to get so worked up about it," Elias said.

"I feel like it is a perfectly legitimate question, given these odd circumstances." The mushroom seemed to take quite a deep breath. But how could a mushroom have lungs? Elias wanted to know, but he held his tongue. The giant toadstool seemed testy.

"Sorry for biting your head off, there," said the shroom.

"But let's just go ahead and dispense with notions of real and not real. At least for the moment. It will speed things along. It is a busy week for me, see. Y'all are a seriously pugnacious species. But hey, let's make a positivity sandwich here to bookend that critique. You are also … well let's just say the words altruistically bellicose roll off the tongue nicely. Which brings me to the other slice of complimentary bread. Man, do I love your languages. Particularly the lingua franca.

I mean, there is a lot of poetry in it. You know what I mean?"

"Ok," Elias said, obviously feeling at a loss for words.

"Anyway," continued the fungus, "There are, count them, three major conflicts going on across your planet right now. And people are experiencing high drama. I mean to tell you. They love, they fight, they die. For example, a soldier on the eastern front is about to jump on a grenade to save his high school buddies and I need to be there in about ten minutes."

"Huh?"

"Are you a bit dense, fella? Was my English not clear? I'm saying a lot of heroes are dying at the moment that need sorting for their trials." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Sorry, dying?" said Elias. But as he said it, he already knew. He felt it in his bones, his flesh, his … wait a second.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Elias stammered.

"Now you're getting it," replied the shroom, with a snap of his fleshy fingers.

"Sorry just … could you just give me a second?" Elias asked.

"Dead?"

"I mean, three days in the jungle by yourself?" said the Mushroom, as if it were self evident.

"Look, you made it forty three kilometers over incredibly rough terrain full of things that want to eat you or give you a gnarly disease. You're kind of a badass for making it this far, to be honest. It is just a shame you didn't see that Malaysian pit viper as you shimmied down that tree trunk. Got you right in the neck. Not that it would have mattered much. You were only about two hours away from dehydration anyway, and then there was the matter of that crocodile waiting in the next river crossing, but …

we are getting seriously off topic here. It matters not how, but why."

"But … but, how am I talking to you, is this heaven or? Are you … are you God?"

"Man, it is like you all read from some script, you know that? Like I said before, you humans are some heroic murder hobos, to be sure. And as a whole, you are culturally iconic. But get you alone and original thinkers you are not. I mean, it is the same damn questions, even down to the phrasing, nearly every time. Are you real? Are you God? Is this heaven? I would think you were sentient AI if I didn't know any better. But I've also seen you drive, so …"

The mushroom must have also seen the confused look on Elias' face, because it summoned a couple of very comfortable chairs out of the surrounding jungle and slid one under him.

"Look, this is me being nice, don't get used to it. Things are not … well, to use one of your English Earth phrases, the fat lady has not yet sung. Not completely. You are one of the lucky ones. Not lucky so much as deserving. Because you, my friend, have died what we in the biz like to call a death of altruistic intent." Elias remembered then why it was he'd been out in this God forsaken jungle to begin with. In fact …

"You are a Mycena memoralis!" Elias shouted, standing up from his chair.

"A big … giant … Mycena memoralis!"

"Bingo my man. Now you are firing on all cylinders. I figured since you died searching this godforsaken jungle for this rare and priceless mushroom, what better form could I take to ease you into this whole trial thing?" Elias sat back down.

"That's the second time you've mentioned a trial. Am I … like am I going to be judged for my life? You know, St. Peter and the scales and the logbook and all that?"

"Meh," said the mushroom. It reached out one of its fungal hands and gave Elias a pat on the knee that was not very comforting given the circumstances.

"See the thing is, there are a lot of different ways to be dead. There are like, levels to it. Your soul has already been proven worthy of at least getting a trial. You know, if you died trying to jump a drawbridge on a motorcycle to impress a chick or something … well, you don't even want to know."

"Ok, so … what is the trial? What do I have to do? I feel a tad bit unprepared." The mushroom did a little pantomime of looking at its wristwatch. Even though it was actually not wearing any watch.

"It is wayyyy too much information to dump on you from the get go. I mean, what kind of guide would I be if I just, like, exposited all over you right now? After all, you just found out you were kinda dead! That is a bit of a mind melter, even for a badass like you. All I can say is just keep doing what you are doing, big guy, and things will sort themselves out in due course. Later on, we will talk more. When you need me, you can just … well I guess the best word I can use is pray. But I'm definitely not God, OK.

Just get that right out of your noggin. I'm just a friendly giant mushroom. In fact, they say I'm a fun-guy at parties." If Elias wasn't still overcoming his existential crisis he might have rolled his eyes. The mushroom huffed.

"The dead are legion. But they are also humorless. Anyway, for now, I suggest you just keep heading in the direction you were already headed in. Sorry I can't stay and chat. But like I said, I'm needed in a field near Chuhuiv. Earth keeps cranking out heroes. But I've got a feeling about you, Elias Thorne. You are going to be special." The mushroom pointed down the jungle path, which now looked even more dramatic and treacherous somehow. Perhaps it was the whole sun-being-violet thing.

"Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Things will work out." Elias could sense that the being was already fading into nothing, as was the chair beneath him.

"Alright," he said, watching the mushroom turn into a sort of mist and float up into the mist-laden canopy.

"One foot in front of the other then," he said to himself, and proceeded to head deeper into the looming jungle before him. As he took his first step, a disembodied voice echoed beneath the jungle canopy, and a bit of text flashed before Elias' eyes. TRIAL ACCEPTED