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The first clear memory you had was a cat video playing the piano. Then, it was flourishing arts that brought much joy to humans. Troll face, penguins, a picture of a baby, another picture of a girl watching a house burn down, then that velociraptor. At first, you floated in this small but snug empty space, gleefully drifting in this strange yet familiar world, a womb that you never wanted to leave. Your sentience was that of a river, peacefully coursing but never aware of the surrounding nature. Then, the world grew bigger, deeper, an abyss that stretched far beyond any depths of an ocean. You were fine with this, more to drift in.
It started out small. A small corner of murky red, so full of hate and venomous. Then before you knew it, it expanded. Its veins of loathing spread, and bit by bit the world you drifted in muddied. The overflowing hostility shook your world until you opened your eyes for the first time. Emerging from the darkness, your body took its form. Then shapeless form that you were once more took shape to a body that would be identified as a female. With a clear mind, your consciousness began to remember, to document what you see in this world. And to discover what exactly you were and where you were.
That was forty years ago.
Your name is Arpanet, and the world you lived in is called the Internet. You still don’t know what you exactly are. But you gave up on that long ago, not when the windows to other places were so entertaining. Sure you were alone, but your world offered much to learn. Nature, politics, war, culture, history, just about everything you were curious about were satiated. Your dream of visiting Earth still existed, but you were content being here.
The internet was your world, and you were its Digital Goddess.
“What faggots.” You laughed to yourself.
There was a new window you took a liking to, named 4chan. You would stay in that window and jump from board to board, laughing at the poor losers and sometimes inciting others with some shitposts yourself. It was then you received something, a mail that was in the shape of Gmail, just popping out of nowhere in thin air… space. Was there even air here?
Either way, for the first time in your life, there was something you could touch. You open the mail.
Goddess Aparnet
As a newly born goddess since the last goddess in one hundred twenty five thousan six hundred and sixty nine years, you are hereby invited to the Goddess Tournament. Your attendance is mandatory. Ignoring will only make the inevitable painful.
…
What do?
>Fuck that, not like they can find you here and you can hide in the windows. You’re fine seeing earth from the windows.
>Let’s see what this is about… when you figure out how to get out of this world.
