Isekai’d by Wrong Number

The blinding whiteness slowly receded, not like light fading, but like an idea being erased. I was sitting, though I couldn't feel what I was sitting on. A glance down confirmed the first, absurd fact of the afterlife: you arrive with nothing. Of course. Naked as the day I was born, which, according to the recent "show," was a rather loud and messy affair.

Across from me, in the endless white void, was a girl who could only be Azakiel. She was beautiful, dressed in a simple white robe that shimmered, but her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated panic. Her attention wasn't on me, but on a massive, glowing book open on a floating pedestal in front of her. Her finger traced a line of glowing text as she muttered frantically to herself.

"Oh no, no, no, no... this can't be right..." Her voice was a terrified whisper. "The final digit... the directive said it ends in a 'one'! Not a 'seven'! Oh, by the stars, I called the wrong number..."

My voice, when it came out, was calm and dangerously steady. "Excuse me."

She jumped, her head snapping up to look at me, her eyes wide. "Y-Yes?"

"Why are you panicking?"

The angel rushed over and grabbed my shoulders.

"Please, forgive me!" she said, her voice cracking. "It was a mistake! A wrong number! The soul's number was supposed to end in a 'one', not a 'seven'!"

"...So, you weren't supposed to kill me, and you were meant to call another number?"

"Y-yes... that's right."

"Then bring me back to Earth."

"NO, I CAN'T!" she shrieked. "The transition is irreversible! I can't send you back the timeline would collapse! The paperwork alone... it would be a nightmare!"

He let her panicked shrieking fade into the silence of the white void. I stared at her, my expression unchanging, and let out a long, slow sigh the kind I reserved for junior associates who told me a key deliverable was "blocked" an hour before a deadline.

"Let's reframe this," I said, my voice cutting through her panic. "Your excuses 'timeline collapse,' 'paperwork' are irrelevant. From my perspective, those are just consequences of a catastrophic operational failure. A failure that you, the operator, are solely responsible for."

She recoiled as if I'd slapped her. "But—"

"You executed a non-reversible action based on unverified data," I continued, ticking off the points mentally. "There was a failure in the quality assurance process, and now you're telling me there's no contingency plan for an event of this magnitude. This entire department seems to have a severe workflow issue."

I looked her dead in the eye. "Frankly, your panic is unprofessional and doesn't solve the problem. Since you are clearly not equipped to manage this crisis, I am officially requesting you escalate this to your superior. Get me your manager."

My demand seemed to snap the last thread of her composure.

"My manager?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the void. "Who do you think you are? You can't just 'talk to the manager'! This isn't a mortal company! You can't just file a complaint with God!"

She huffed, pacing in a tight circle before stopping, letting out a long, defeated sigh. She visibly tried to calm herself down, smoothing the front of her white robe.

Seeing her shift, I pressed on. "Fine. No manager. So what's the next step? Am I going to heaven, or something?"

She looked at me, her expression now shifting from panic to something more... transactional. "No. Not heaven," she said slowly. "Look, because this was my fault a major procedural error the system has a protocol. A compensation package."

I raised an eyebrow.

"We can't send you back to your Earth," she continued, "but we can transfer your soul to a temporary world. A sort of Earth-in-development. A fantasy world. And as an official apology for the... inconvenience... you'll be granted a powerful blessing. A random ability, but the system is very generous when the error is this severe."

With a wave of her hand, the empty void was replaced by a massive, glowing screen that looked disturbingly like a slot machine from a fantasy-themed mobile game. "This is the 'Blessing Bestowal' system," she said, her tone now sounding like a tutorial guide.

"The odds are... well, they are what they are," she explained, pointing to some fine print at the bottom of the screen. "There's a 0.5% chance of pulling a Legendary-tier power, and a 0.1% chance for a Godly-tier. Everything else is considered 'trash,' but even a trash-tier blessing here is still a B-rank power by mortal standards. You'll be well above a normal human."

I stared at the flashy, spinning icons. "A bit edgy," I said flatly. "So, what's the objective? I become an adventurer and fight a demon king or something?"

"That depends entirely on you," she answered. "You can do whatever you want. Open a bakery, become a farmer, read books. Just don't die. If you die there, it's game over for good. So, shall we spin?"

I gave a single, tired nod.

"Okay, here we go!" A switch flipped in her. As she hit the large 'SPIN' button, her professional demeanor vanished. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell slightly open, and she leaned in towards the screen, her breathing becoming heavy and excited as the lights began to whirl. It wasn't just excitement; it was the raw, desperate focus of a degenerate gambler watching the ball drop on the roulette wheel.

I glanced away from the screen to stare at her. She looked less like a celestial guide and more like a gambling addict one spin away from becoming homeless.

The spinning lights on the screen blurred into a blinding rainbow before slowing, clicking through several lesser icons with dramatic tension. My gaze was fixed on the angel's face, watching her hold her breath. Finally, the machine landed on a symbol pulsing with golden light. A triumphant fanfare erupted from some unseen speaker, and large, shimmering words filled the screen.

[ TIER: GODLY ]

[ BLESSING ACQUIRED: PERFECT ILLUSION ]

"YES! YOU GOT IT!" Azakiel screamed, jumping into the air with a fist pump. "THE 0.1 PERCENT! A GODLY-TIER! I KNEW IT!"

Before I could process the words on the screen, she launched herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck in a tight, ecstatic hug.

I didn't move. My eyes remained fixed on the glowing monitor, reading the name of my new, supposedly powerful ability. Her celebration was just noise, her hug an unwelcome weight. I stood there stiffly, a statue being embraced by a hurricane.

While she was still clinging to me, I spoke in my usual flat tone, my gaze still on the screen. "What is it supposed to do?"

She finally released me, still buzzing with a manic energy. Stepping back, she stood before the monitor with the air of a proud presenter. "What does it do?" she repeated with a broad grin. "I'll show you."

She gestured at the screen, and it shifted into a tutorial guide, showing an animated figure that looked like me. "Perfect Illusion allows you to project a flawless, tangible duplicate of yourself," she explained. The screen showed the illusionary figure throwing a punch at a target, while the 'real' figure stood safely to the side.

"Your duplicate can interact with the world perfectly. It can talk, it can run, it can fight. People can even attack it," she continued, as the animation showed the illusion getting hit by an attack. "They can punch it, hold it, whatever. It will feel solid to them, but the real you won't feel a thing. It's the ultimate decoy."

I watched the demonstration, my mind processing the applications. A glorified magic trick. That was my 0.1% godly power.

Before I could comment, Azakiel turned away from the screen and bellowed into the empty void, her voice filled with sudden authority.

"ANGEL OF WISH, GET OVER HERE!"

A moment later, the space beside her shimmered, and another girl in a white robe appeared out of thin air.

The newly arrived angel looked from the celebratory monitor, to me, and then to a very proud-looking Azakiel. "What is it?" she asked, her voice calm and professional.

"Transfer this soul to Temporary World G-77," Azakiel ordered. "Blessing has been granted: Perfect Illusion, Godly-tier."

The Angel of Wish simply nodded, then turned to me. "Are you ready?"

I just shrugged. "Whatever. At least I'll live."

She raised a hand, and the white world around me dissolved into nothingness.

***

With the problematic soul gone, Azakiel let out a huge sigh of relief, stretching her arms over her head. "Finally, that's over with."

The Angel of Wish, however, wasn't looking at her. Her gaze was fixed on the monitor, which still displayed the 'Godly' result. She slowly turned to Azakiel. "Did you... spin this?"

"Yeah, I did it for him," Azakiel said with a casual wave. "To get the process moving, you know?"

The Angel of Wish's eyes narrowed. "Azakiel, you're not supposed to spin the wheel. The soul is. If an administrator spins it, the system automatically defaults to a Godly-tier prize to prevent fraud. That's a basic rule."

Azakiel's triumphant smile froze and melted away, replaced by a blank, slack-jawed stare.

"Eh...?"

To Be Continued.