Кто знает английский? Можете оценить как ЖПТ перевел текст. Читабелен или нет

The day had gone by in a blur. A lot of things to do, yet somehow none of them actually got done. And judging by how things were going, not all of them would be solved by the end of the week either. And it was only Tuesday.

I stopped by the little store near my building and bought two cans of beer and a pack of salted nuts. Drinking in the middle of the work week wasn’t exactly a great idea, especially when you knew that even those two cans would be more than enough for you. But today had been a particularly shitty day.

I went upstairs, already reaching for my keys, ready to open the door—when I realized the door wasn’t mine.

I mean, the floor was mine. The apartment’s position was correct. But the door definitely wasn’t.

Instead of the usual metal door every apartment in this complex had, there was a wooden one covered in carvings. Dozens of tiny figures depicted some kind of fantasy battle: demons, winged men, even women. There were little figures carved into the handle as well. And there was no keyhole.

Or… was it called a keyhole?

Funny. I had never actually thought about it before.

Though what did it matter? My door was supposed to be different.

Confused, I walked over to check the neighboring doors. Maybe I’d mixed up the floor. Or the entrance.

But no. The apartment numbers were the same. And that same auntie lived next door.

“Pathetic drunk,” Aunt Galya said disapprovingly, glancing at the cans in my hands. My deeply respected neighbor, for whom I would personally be willing to pay funeral expenses—on the condition that the funeral took place tomorrow.

“Evening,” I greeted her. “Do you know who replaced my door?”

“No,” she replied, now looking at me with open dislike.

Then she slammed the door shut.

“And a wonderful night to you too,” I muttered after her.

I stepped back to the not-my-door, grabbed the handle, and pulled.

It opened effortlessly.

A blinding light burst out, forcing me to squint. When my vision cleared, my surprise came out in the form of a loud shout.

“Holy fucking shit!”

I jumped backward.

Standing in front of me was a demon. Or a devil. Or some other hellish thing—definitely not a cosplayer.

It was enormous. Probably over four meters tall. Dark red skin, wings, spikes, horns, claws—and equipment to match the size. Completely naked.

Not exactly what I’d imagined in my head, where things tended to be more… horizontally impressive rather than vertically overwhelming.

“See? Your appearance frightens him rather than impresses him,” a voice said from behind me.

I spun around and saw a winged man.

Probably.

He was taller than me too, but in a reasonable way—around two meters. Dressed entirely in white, with white wings and long blond hair. He practically glowed. From the face, voice, and overall build it was impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman.

Maybe neither.

Maybe one of those… what were they called… androids.

Or something else entirely.

Then again, what did it matter? This wasn’t my apartment. And these weren’t my cockroaches.

Everything around us was stone. The floor, the ceiling, the distant walls—stone everywhere.

It was a massive cavern.

“I don’t give a damn whether he likes it or not,” the big red one said. His voice sounded exactly the way you’d expect.

“Where am I?!” I finally managed to ask. My voice cracked embarrassingly.

“Hear us, mortal soul,” the white-winged one began with grand solemnity. “We are the Primordials, and you have been chosen to make a choice that will determine the course of all existence.”

“…What?” I blinked. “Choose what? Chosen by who? Who are you? And where the hell is my apartment?”

“You were chosen randomly. Do not worry—anyone could have been in your place,” the white one said calmly. “You must choose the path of the future of all that exists. As I said, we are the Primordials: good and evil, light and darkness, cold and fire—”

“Stamen and pistil,” the red one snorted.

“Everything that embodies opposites,” the angel continued, ignoring him. “For only through struggle is meaning born.”

“Or everything falls apart,” I added.

“That too,” the white one agreed easily. “As for your last question—your apartment is exactly where it has always been. And you will return to it once you make three choices.”

“What choices?” I asked. I really didn’t like where this was going. “And what if I don’t?”

“Then you die. Right now,” the demon said, taking two steps forward and looming over me. “And you’ll die if you don’t make all three.”

“Fine. What kind of choices?” Considering the circumstances—and the size difference—I decided not to escalate things and stepped away from the red giant.

“You must decide that yourself. If you are ready—step into the abyss,” the angel said, pointing behind me.

And there really was a hole there.

“Uh… and if—”

“Fuck it,” the red one said and kicked me.

The fall didn’t last long.

And after a short while, I opened my eyes.