The air tastes salty, the floor you are lying on can't decide on a stable orientation, and the roaring in your ears would be distracting to any lesser being. Even when it can't be hard to guess that you've ended up lying flat on your back on some ship at sea, it's still disorienting.

Opening your eyes doesn't exactly bring clarity though. Straight up is a wooden ceiling, to your left is a tiny porthole, and to your right is his brother -- also tiny porthole. Craning your neck backwards, you see a few rotting planks bravely pretending to be a door.

So the room is triangular. And filled with you and four dead bodies lying on each of the five points of a decidedly bloody looking pentagram drawn on the floor.

And a book, look at the book. It's a very thick book. Very black. Very ... appealing.

Nothing suspicious about how tremendously appealing the foreboding tome in the middle of a bloody pentagram ringed in corpses is.

Well, corpses minus one. You seem fine! You are dressed in only slightly scruffy blue robes, with a nice deep cowl, and only 20% discoloration from the blood trail tracing back to your wrists.

Did I mention you were fine? Very fine. So fine.

You feel positively divine.

Welcome to your new life as the Chaotic Evil God of Ultimate Freedom!

Or well, your old life really. But last time didn't go so well, did it? Maybe we shouldn't dwell on that right now though. What with your rather... precarious position of having only one follower: the desperate mortal shell you currently inhabit.

Lose this chip and you are going back to oblivion again.

Do you still remember how your divinity works, or have you been struck with reincarnation amnesia?