That Time I Wrote Myself into an Isekai to Escape a Plague
**Author's Note** (henceforth abbreviated as "AN")
-I haven't sat down to write an honest fanficition in years. I always viewed it as training ground for new authors to find their footing but was a metaphorical cradle all true writers must eventually leave. I'm returning to this ground because I suppose I need the artistic freedom to tell this story without warping it around international copyright. As the title rather pointedly states: this is my escape from a truly terrifying reality at the moment, and I kind of just need to be able to fully express myself. If this thing isn't too much of a rambling hot mess by the time I wrap it up I may try to adapt it into something a little more (forgive the phrasing) legitimate.
-As both an aspiring novelist and legit playwright my styles in both mediums blend into something I loving refer to as "pseudo-script". I'm sure some of you will be greatly annoyed by this. Sorry but you're just going to have to live it.
Thank you. Sincerely, BCW

Chapter 1:
What a hell this week has been.

To any of you whom may be reading this in the future, allow me to set the proverbial stage: I'm an American and it's March of the year 2020. We're stuck here at the true beginning of the "Corona Crisis" or whatever the hell this global pandemic is going to wind up being named. It was already a rough year before this literal disaster happened.

I'm turning thirty this year and I've been thinking a lot about what my future entails. At this point in my life I've been working the same dead-end job as a "go for" delivery driver for 12 years. It's not a bad job, I mean I've stuck with it for over a decade, and it pays well enough that I can go out and really take my shot at the stars. Just this past year I finally finished my first play, it got produced for a local festival, it was exceptionally well reviewed, I even got it published, but after selling a couple dozen copies that's where that road ended. A couple years ago I picked up a second job as a stage manager at a local theater. That has been a very rewarding pursuit but like all jobs in theater, it pays a shit wage. Between the two I work 60 hour weeks and I've managed to save up some good money and I'm finally in a financial position where I can make some big life changes.

Then the world fell apart…again. I came out of high school in the middle of the 08 financial crisis to the worst jobs market in decades and now that I'm finally in a position where I can legitimately start making my own life the world goes to hell practically overnight. What's really sad about that is that it's the story of my generation, us millennials are more than willing to take a chance on changing the world because the world as is neither has been particularly good not holds any real promise for us. We had a real chance to change it this year, and as the progressive political animal and (in the words of a former friend) "opinionated prick" you had better believe I was neck deep in that fight. Alas, we didn't win.

As I stare down the barrel of life at 30 years on this Earth I find myself examining my life and trying to extrapolate what it means for my future. I've been with my share of women but none of them stuck around for longer than a month. What does that say about me? Have I gotten too good at being alone? I suppose that I've been in love, or at least what my lonely/hormone fueled brain justified as love, before but I'm pretty sure the sentiment has never been returned. You never made it easy though, didn't you Brady?

I'm a Floridian, dirtbag leftist, Taoist atheist who practices pagan sorcery living in ultra conservative, Molly Mormon Utah. While they're at church during Sunday morning you're practicing Taiichi with your Jian and bo staff. As they give their thanks to their Jesus and their prophet you're beseeching a pantheon of gods from all over the world, who you don't even think exist, to help you live up to the ideals and virtues that they represent inside your head. Is it really a surprise that their interest in you is little more than a passing fascination?

But let's get back to this week. A global pandemic is sweeping through our lives, grinding them to a halt and precipitating a financial disaster unlike any since the Great Depression. The theater had to close and who knows when it's going to open again. The other job is going to start rotating people's shifts as they try to keep the doors open. If all my income stopped, I could last half a year. Living alone has the benefit of limiting your expenses and you have a lot of freedom in how you can adapt to a situation. I'm better off than most in that regard. Hmmm…I suppose I now have the free time write more, so it's not all bad. Well that's where my head was at until the earthquake hit.

This is not dramatic license, this actually happened. I woke one morning and I found that my world was literally shaking apart. Once it stopped I laughed with gallows humor for 5 minutes straight. Later that day I heard the heard the report from the government, they were desperately trying to avoid 20% unemployment. The following day some people in my social circles got quarantined. The day after that one of my co-worker's friends committed suicide, his family found him hanging in their living room. And just as you catch yourself thinking, "so this is when the nightmare truly begins", you learn that the semi-fascist manchild leading your rightwing government is asking the congress to suspend your constitutional rights during the crisis. On top of everything else you now have to contemplate the very real possibility you may be living through the fall of the republic.

Good gods, what a fucking week it has been.

Would you consider it odd that something that stuck out to me this week was a conversation I had with a coworker about anime?

It's true. He's about ten years younger than me and he was telling me about how he's watching Sword Art Online. My initial response was, "I probably would've liked that show if it came out when I was younger", and that made me realize that I'm no longer young. It also got me thinking about SAO's genre: isekai, the escape to another world. A younger me probably wouldn't have liked it but after this week, I certainly understand its core appeal…and that got me thinking about my own passions: my chosen animal companion will always be "Char", my Charizard from Pokémon Red named after the Gundam character, the title "Black Swordsman" will always belong to Guts from Berserk, how I'm a Taoist because of Star Wars…and that got me thinking how I've watched late capitalism murder those stories that are so near and dear to me. Game of Thrones made me watch as they turned a beautiful revolutionary woman into an unhinged, murdering sadist damned to fate by her genetics. As somebody with my own family history of mental illness, who has had/will continue to fight the existential dread of being afraid that you're a ticking time bomb, that truly felt like an icy dagger in the heart.

Perhaps they are, yet that doesn't change how it is in these pleasant moments that people seek refuge from the fury of a failing world. Huh, there is an apropos irony in such safe harbors already being wrecked before I needed them. How desperately I wish I could fix them as I wish I could fix this world. Then a simple yet powerful thought dawns on me, "I can".

Am I not an author? Am I not a creator totally within my power to do so? What if I allowed myself to chase that vain dream by writing myself into that story? I could save that story, I could save that world, I could save her…and all I would need to do is let my consciousness fall through the pages.

And so I do.

The world fades away into a white void and I fall through the nothingness as I merge my consciousness to The Song of Ice & Fire. I close my eyes and I feel gravity assert itself on me and the cold air sting my face as I hurdle through the sky above the North towards the ground. I hear a familiar roar and slowly open my eyes to see a shadow descending upon. He catches me in his claws and gently carries me to the ground. I sit in the snow and look upon Char, the Red Comet, my very first Pokémon. His scales are crimson and he stands 10 feet tall. I stand with my Jian in one hand, bo staff in the other, and my busted lightsaber on my belt. I'm wearing the black and grey robes of a Revanite.

I stroke Char's head and he rubs his face against mine. I climb on top of his back and with a mighty roar he soars high above the frozen forests. Flying 4x faster than any other dragon we streak across the sky towards Winterfell. Maybe if I can save this world I can figure out how to save my own.

End

**AN**
-I'll be continuing this as it fancies me. There is not going to be any real structured release schedule with this. It kind of depends on what the hell is going on IRL. Maybe I'll release 3 chapters in a single day or I'll release one a month.
-Feedback is always appreciated.
-Be safe, stay healthy.