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Chapter 3

  I woke up with a jolt. I looked around and realized I was in my own room. My bedside clock said it was 7am on Saturday morning. I was in my pajamas. I moved my left arm around and could swear I felt a ghost of pain from the dream I just had. Ya right, like there could possibly be three people beating up a homeless person at the park. Then I realized I must have forgotten to walk Bento last night and groaned, imagining the kind of attitude he was going to give me today. I just hoped he was able to hold it in last night. I felt terrible for not taking him out for a walk.

  With I sigh I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Only to find a homeless man sitting at my kitchen table with two cups of coffee already made and Bento blissfully asleep in his bed, on his back with all his paws in the air.

  “Good morning,” the homeless man said.

  I closed and rubbed my eyes, wondering if I was still asleep. I opened and found Oscar, still sitting at my kitchen table. Still wearing his sunglasses despite being indoors. He waved towards the cup of coffee opposite him. Wordlessly, I walked to the table and sat across from him. Silently, I took a sip of coffee. Then another. Then another. Finally, I looked up at him.

  “Last night happened for real,” I began.

  “Yes, yes indeed it did,” he replied as he sipped his own cup.

  “You set me up,” I accused.

  “Yes, I did indeed,” he admitted.

  “Why?”

  “Like I said last night, plenty of potential, as of yet untested. I was curious. So, I made a small test. The results were rather surprising if I do say so myself,” He explained with a small smile.

  I took a sip of coffee, both to calm my mind and wake it up. I was not ready for this kind of conversation without at least one cup of caffeine in me.

  “What part of that was a test?”

  “All of it. What would you do if you saw a stranger in peril? What would you do if someone threatened something important to you? What would you do in the face of mounting adversity? And finally, what would you do in the face of death,” Oscar said patiently.

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise at his response. “Why would you need to test for those specifically? And why were the results surprising?”

  “I’ll start with your second question first,” he began, “The results were surprising because most people with potential break or falter under enough pressure or in the face of certain failure. You were outnumbered three to one but were still willing to intervene. You could have taken Bento and run but stayed to help a stranger without prompting. You fought against superior opponents and managed to emerge as the victor. Finally, in the face of an impossible situation you didn’t panic, realized your only path of escape, and calmly chose to take it without hesitation. Now, to answer your first question, I needed to know if you were worth recruiting.”

  “Recruit me for what?” My mouth said before my brain could catch up with what I just heard.

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  “A tournament of sorts.”

  I took another sip of coffee this time. “A tournament,” I said flatly. “What kind of tournament would need me to be tested in the face of death?”

  Oscar grinned at that. “Why, a tournament of the Gods of course!” He exclaimed.

  All sense of patience for me broke at that response. “Ha ha ha,” I started with a fake laugh, “you really had me going there for a bit. A tournament of the ‘Gods’ you say. Sure. Look, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. I’m not going to press charges about last night or the obvious breaking and entering that you’ve performed to get into my apartment. Next, you’re going to say that you’re also a God.”

  “Well met, I am a God,” Oscar replied.

  “He’s telling the truth.” Another voice supplied.

  I looked around the apartment hearing that unfamiliar voice. All I saw was me, Oscar, and Bento walking up to sit beside me.

  I looked at Oscar. “Who else is in my home?”

  “No one, it’s just the three of us,” he replied.

  “Obviously there’s only the three of us. God why is he so dense sometimes,” the third voice spoke again.

  Woodenly, I turned to look back at Bento sitting beside me, looking at me judgmentally.

  “Did you just speak?” I asked my dog.

  “Did you just understand me?” Bento shot up to his feet as he looked at me, panting excitedly.

  Without prompting, he hopped onto another chair and sat down in a particularly human manner. Then we both whirled back towards Oscar.

  “Why can my dog speak?”

  “Why can my human understand me?”

  “Now now boys,” Oscar said while placating us with his hands, “one at a time. Though I can certainly understand the excitement. I thought it was a fitting gift for passing my test. Both of you.”

  “I was being tested too?” Bento asked.

  I was still flabbergasted that my dog could talk, let alone that he was also way smarter than I thought a dog could be. Idly, I wondered if that somehow made racist. I dismissed the thought before I tuned back into the conversation.

  “Of course you were. As I said last night, you’re partners. It would hardly be fair if I only tested one of you and not the other. You faced all the same challenges as Robert here and passed with flying colors. I thought it fitting to reward you both with the ability to properly communicate. Hard to be effective combatants from body expressions and gestures alone.”

  “How is he so smart all of a sudden that he can talk?” I asked, unable to completely dismiss the stray thought.

  “I told you last night that he’s a particularly clever one. He was always capable of complex thoughts. He just didn’t have the means of communicating those thoughts to others until now. And strictly speaking, it’s not really talking. It’s more akin to telepathy. Selectively mind you. He can decide who to talk to. Though I recommend you don’t go around speaking to everyone just yet. Might be good to keep that secret between us three for now,” he explained.

  “But... how?” I asked again dumbly.

  “Magic. I already told you I’m a God, why is this what surprises you?” Oscar quirked an eyebrow at me humorously.

  This son of a bitch was enjoying melting my brain this morning. I took another sip of coffee in a futile attempt to recover some of my sanity. Unfortunately, my cup was empty. Now convinced of my utter insanity, I asked the question I was most afraid of.

  “Oscar, who are you really?”

  “About time,” he pulled off his sunglasses to show that one of them was missing, “I like to use Oscar when I’m trying to be anonymous, but most of the world knows me as Odin.”

  I could feel my brain melting out of my ears. “... Odin? As in king of all the Norse Gods Odin? The All-Father?”

  “The one and only,” he replied with a patient smile.

  I looked him up and down, best I could at least while sitting across from him at my table. He was bald, wearing ratty clothes, and covered in dirt and grime. He had a scar over his missing eye, though thankfully he kept it closed. I’d never seen someone with a missing eye before and didn’t know what it would look like to peer into an empty eye socket. His remaining eye, however, was clear and alive. It wasn’t kind, especially given his disheveled appearance. Nor did he give off an impression of royalty or disdain. He just looked like another man, though one that felt like he knew more than the people around him. And if he was telling the truth, given that he was currently surrounded by a normal dude and his dog, that was most likely the case.

  After staring into his one eye, I came to a decision. “I need another coffee. Would you like another too?”

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