Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

All Finn saw were people scattering like panicked ants, sprinting for their lives as he clung desperately to the giant eyeball hurtling toward the ground at insane speeds.

And then—impact.

He didn't even fully see it happen, but he remembered the moment with crystal clarity: the eyeball splattering like a grotesque snowball against the earth. The slick, slimy grip he had on it completely vanished as he was thrown forward, and then—nothing but the brutal, unyielding hardness of the ground.

Everything went black.

'Did I die?'

That was Finn's first thought. The sound of the splattering eyeball still rang in his memory, and, worse yet, the crunch of bones.

'Dear God, I must've died…'

Even thinking about it made him shudder. He could handle fictional gore just fine—but imagining real-life splintering bones? That was a whole different level of nightmare fuel.

But here's the thing: he didn't feel dead. He didn't feel anything.

No pain. No air. No weight. No light. Nothing but an empty, suffocating void.

'How creepy.'

So this was it? His second time dying in this world? First time: suffocated by Majestria's thighs. Second time: splattered against the earth on top of a giant eyeball meteor.

'What a résumé.'

He couldn't help but wonder—what would someone even think, watching all of that? Would they feel bad for him? Pity him? Laugh? Or would they just stand there, slack-jawed, unable to process what they'd just seen? Probably all of the above.

Still… it was one hell of a way to go out. Not exactly how he'd hoped, and definitely not for as long as he'd wanted to live here, but hey.

'Well, damn. I didn't even get to lose my virginity. What a bummer…'

But then—something changed.

Finn felt.

A warmth spread through his body. Divine. Tingling. Almost electric. And—worse—it felt… good. Really, really good. Like the universe had just given him a free massage and a kiss on the forehead.

That was, of course, until his back smacked against something hard, cold, and smooth.

Groaning, he shifted around on the floor, rubbing his spine. "Ow… what the hell now?"

A light beamed over him, forcing his eyes open.

He was lying on polished white marble, so clean it could've been a showroom floor. Slowly, awkwardly, Finn pushed himself up to his elbows, then onto his feet—blinking around in confusion.

That's when the smell hit him.

Freshly baked bread. Rich wine. Roasted meats. Sweet fruit. Every imaginable kind of food, all wafting through the air at once. His nose twitched uncontrollably like he'd suddenly developed a bread addiction.

Is this my reward? he thought, tears almost forming. Did God finally say, "Hey, buddy, you know what you need? Carbs."

He staggered fully upright and immediately froze.

Because he wasn't alone.

In front of him stretched a bizarre, shining banquet. Dozens of people—men and women alike—sat around golden tables, laughing, chatting, eating, drinking like it was the world's most smug dinner party. Blonde, brunette, tan-skinned, pale—every shade of white, all wrapped in white clothing that screamed "I'm better than you."

Well, most of them were. A handful of women had skipped subtlety entirely, wearing outfits that looked like Majestria's wardrobe had been raided and put on sale in a strip mall.

Marble pillars towered around the feast, with fountains of crystal-clear water flowing nearby. Clouds drifted lazily overhead, painting the scene like something straight out of a religious pamphlet.

Finn blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again.

"…Where the hell am I now?" he muttered.

As if things weren't already confusing enough, one of the women—a tall, radiant blonde who looked like she'd been airbrushed by the heavens themselves—suddenly gasped.

She clutched her lips, staggered back, and screamed like she'd just seen a cockroach.

"Who is he—and how did he get here?! And just look at him—it's sickening!"

"What? I'm not bad looking—what is your problem!"

Finn froze.

His jaw dropped.

He was completely naked. His junk was just… out there. Hanging in the heavenly breeze like an exhibitionist art project.

"GHHHHH—!" he squealed, instantly slapping both hands over himself, his cheeks burning hotter than the women ahead.

The crowd of divine beings recoiled in disgust. Some gasped, some turned away, others covered their eyes as if shielding their holiness from secondhand shame.

Muttering rippled through them like static:

"Hideous."

"Foul."

"He's dripping mortal grease!"

One muscular god holding a bottle of wine pointed at Finn as if accusing him of murder. "WHO let this disgraceful wretch into this beautiful palace?!"

The voices rose all at once, a chorus of heavenly condemnation:

"Get this despicable thing OUT of here!"

"He reeks of sin!"

"He drags filth into our divine halls!"

"Even his aura smells bad!"

Finn's eye twitched. "Okay—HEY—that one was unnecessary!"

But then, one of the goddesses squinted at him. Her brows furrowed. Her lips parted. And then she gasped so loudly it echoed off the marble.

She thrust her finger at him like a judge declaring sentence. "That's no god—" her voice thundered, "—that's a MORTAL!"

Her words cracked across the banquet like lightning. Every god and goddess froze. Wine glasses shattered on marble. Bread slipped from trembling fingers.

Gasps exploded through the hall, echoing around the clouds above.

"How in the name of the Gods… did a mortal enter here?!"

"Don't ask me—I don't know!" Finn shot back, throwing his hands up. "I should be asking you guys the same question!" He shrugged, as if this was all just mildly inconvenient and not divine court-level chaos.

The god with the wine goblet glared at him, jaw tight with both shock and fury.

"You should fall to your knees if you know any better! You should be grateful you're standing in a place such as this!"

Finn buzzed him off with a lazy wave. "Oh please. Are all of you people this self-absorbed? You might honestly be worse than her—actually, wait, I might take that back. She's pretty bad."

"Who?" a goddess snapped.

"Who? Oh, I'm talking about the really loud and—"

He didn't finish.

A strange wave pulsed through his body—warm and alien, like static crawling under his skin. His skull throbbed. His vision flickered. He clutched his head, staggering forward.

The women shrieked as his manhood made another accidental appearance, one of them even blurting out, "It's… kinda cute!"

None of that mattered to Finn. The sensation crashing over him was too much to process. His vision blurred, his limbs flickered like bad TV reception. He was fading.

The shouting of the gods dimmed, their perfect faces smearing into nothingness. The marble palace dissolved into black.

'Not this again… where am I going now?'

As if in answer, a warm light swelled around him, pushing out the dark. Beneath him, he felt the gritty squelch of a mucky, filthy ground.

And then—just one voice. Sharp. Familiar.

"There you are!"