The Fate Coordination Office was a cathedral-like building built with towering obsidian pillars and silver-etched constellations that shimmered faintly as if alive. Within the halls, whispers of fate trailed like smoke, and spectral attendants walked in silence, burdened by scrolls and records no mortal could ever hope to comprehend.
Vanessa stood at the main entrance, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She was here because Elder Valta had summoned her, though the timing couldn't have been more suspicious. After reading her own death file, and learning she had nearly died twice, she was rattled to the bone. She needed answers. But part of her feared Valta had called her in not for answers—but because he knew she was snooping around.
She stepped inside.
A receptionist with translucent skin and one glowing eye motioned her to the rear chamber. "The Elder awaits, Reaper Vanessa. Please do not tap on the soul globes along the corridor. They're sensitive."
"Right," Vanessa muttered, eyeing the floating orbs that pulsed faintly like jellyfish in an eternal drift.
She reached the end of the corridor and found Elder Valta seated behind a crescent desk made of moonstone. Instead of his usual intimidating robe, today he wore something that might pass for casual: silver-stitched robes with stars embroidered into the hem, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and reading spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.
"Reaper Vanessa," he said without looking up. "Close the door."
She did.
He gestured toward the seat in front of him, still scribbling something on a long scroll. It was only after a full minute of complete silence that he rolled the scroll up, sealed it with a molten wax insignia, and looked at her.
"I see you've been busy," he said, voice calm but laced with meaning.
Vanessa's fingers twitched. "And you've been watching."
Valta smirked. "I wouldn't be a department head if I weren't."
She leaned forward. "Then you already know what I found. My file. The false death reports. The anomalies. Someone tried to kill me—twice."
"Indeed," he said without flinching.
She blinked. "You're not even going to deny it?"
"No point. It's true. But what matters is whether you can discern why."
Vanessa's throat tightened. "Do you know why?"
Valta steepled his fingers. "I have theories. But you're not here for guesses. You're here because the real answers are buried deep in the FCO Department." He paused, "And I need someone inside to find them."
She stared at him silently. Feeling suspicious of her assignment, "You're assigning me to investigate your own department?"
Valta smiled, just faintly. "Oh, Vanessa. The moment you stepped into this world and refused to die when they told you to—you were already investigating. I'm just making it official."
---
An hour later, Vanessa walked into the FCO's Subsection of Soul Tag Verification, still stunned.
Her official task? To assist with a sudden audit of soul tag records. Unofficially? To unravel whatever rot had taken hold in the Fate Coordination Department.
The Soul Tag Verification room was a hexagonal chamber filled with suspended spirit archives—cylinders that hovered midair, each glowing with a different hue depending on the soul's status: assigned, reincarnated, misrouted, or pending resolution.
Vanessa met with the department assistant, a reaper with silver bones and a faint Yorkshire accent. "We're short-staffed, miss. We've had over two thousand backlogs since the shift in reincarnation protocols. Half the tags don't match their registered deaths."
Vanessa blinked. "Wait, what do you mean don't match?"
The assistant gestured at a cylinder. It contained a flickering soul tag labeled Lioren Vask, supposedly deceased fifty years ago.
"This soul tag should be flagged as Reincarnated," he explained. "But look—"
He tapped the side of the cylinder. It flared briefly, revealing a different name beneath the surface: Tiran Els. A completely unrelated soul.
"That's not a clerical error," Vanessa muttered. "That's an identity swap."
"Exactly," the reaper said. "We've found dozens just this week. Some are minor—but others involve souls from High Ranks. Nobles. Ex-lords. A few reapers even."
Vanessa took notes, already feeling her pulse rise.
By mid-afternoon, she had reviewed over 40 soul tags and uncovered at least 8 mismatches. But one in particular made her stop cold.
A soul tag labeled Kazeh N.
It pulsed red—a marker used only for restricted files.
Vanessa's hand hovered.
Should I…?
She reached for it. The moment her fingers touched the cylinder, a jolt of cold rushed through her skin.
"UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS," a deep voice echoed from nowhere.
The room flickered. The soul tag vanished from view, leaving behind only a faint wisp of darkness.
"What the hell was that?" she whispered.
Before she could process it, the assistant reaper returned.
"Sorry, miss. We've just been alerted that a few tags are… missing. We think someone's remotely wiping them from the system."
Vanessa's breath hitched. Someone was watching.
---
Later that evening, she returned to Valta's office.
"I found evidence of soul tag mismatches," she said. "Intentional identity swaps. Restricted files disappearing mid-review. I even found one tied to the name 'Kazeh N.'"
Valta's face darkened. "You touched the Kazen file?"
Vanessa hesitated. "Just for a second. It vanished the moment I did."
Valta stood and began pacing. "He's not supposed to exist. That name isn't written in any current death registry. It was erased centuries ago."
She stared at him. "Then why is it still showing up? Why are people's soul tags being swapped?"
"Because," Valta said grimly, "someone in the FCO is rewriting fate."
Vanessa sat in silence. The implications churned in her stomach.
Valta continued, "This goes deeper than just erasing deaths or delaying reincarnations. They're building false identities, forging new existences from shadows. If we don't stop it—"
"The entire cycle of death and rebirth could collapse," she finished.
Valta nodded slowly. "You've seen only the edge of it. And now that you've touched the Reaper Kazen tag… they'll come for you."
Vanessa's blood turned cold. "Who?"
He leaned in. "Those who guard the True Ledger. The ones buried beneath the FCO's lowest level. The Archivists."
She swallowed. "What do I do now?"
Valta smiled, but it was a sad, tired smile.
"Now, Reaper Vanessa... you can keep digging. And you pray that your name doesn't appear on that list again."