Shawn wasn't sure how long he'd been floating among the other souls. Time didn't really work here. Seconds, minutes, maybe days? None of it seemed to matter when you didn't breathe, didn't hunger, didn't blink.
But one thing was certain: Boredom wasn't an option. Not in this place. Not when there was drama absolutely everywhere.
A loud, high-pitched wailing suddenly echoed from the front of the judgement line.
"NO! PLEASE! NOT AGAIN! I REFUSE!!"
Shawn perked up instantly, drifting higher like someone peeking over a crowd at a concert. His translucent, glowing form practically vibrated with amusement. He wasn't exactly alive anymore, but his curiosity certainly was.
A soul was being dragged—no, hauled—by two towering Reincarnation Guards in gleaming, ethereal armor. The poor guy flailed wildly, legs kicking like a toddler denied candy, his cries echoing like sirens through the glowing mist.
"I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THE ANT KINGDOM!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE BEEN EATEN ALIVE?! I'VE DIED SIX TIMES IN A ROW! I WAS CRUSHED! BURNT! FLUSHED! FLUSHED!!!"
Shawn grinned. Souls nearby exchanged weary glances, clearly familiar with this guy's recurring performance.
At the front of the platform, the Soul Conductor assigned to this case—a tall woman with glowing pink eyes and a sugary-sweet smile that probably hid a terrifying amount of paperwork—sighed dramatically and waved one elegant, glowing hand.
"Tsk tsk… your merits are still below basic humanity," she said, in a voice that sounded like bubblegum and menace. "Until you stop eating your siblings upon hatching, you shall continue reincarnating as insects."
The soul shrieked louder. "BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO BAAACK!!"
Snap. She flicked her fingers, and with a soft poof, the screaming soul vanished into a glowing teleportation bubble, voice trailing off as he was unceremoniously yeeted back to bug life.
Silence.
Then a few chuckles.
Shawn snorted. "At least he's consistent."
A soul nearby—a crusty-looking old man with a spectral beard that floated like seaweed in slow motion—grumbled with the deep bitterness of someone very done with reincarnation.
Shawn drifted closer. "Uh, hey Grandpa Ghost. What did you get judged as?"
The old soul huffed like a broken kettle. "Back in my day, when a man died, he got a heroic resurrection or eternal sleep! But nooo, now it's all lessons and merit-based systems. They're sending me back as a baby. Again!"
Shawn blinked. "Isn't… isn't that normal?"
The old soul spun his head with the slow menace of a turtle with vengeance issues. "Not when it's my fifth time! You ever try learning to walk again with no memory and mushy knees? It's humiliating."
"Uh-huh," Shawn said carefully, and respectfully floated one soul-length away.
Then—A hush swept across the space like a wind made of light. The platform glowed brighter.
Judgement in session.
A soul stepped forward—calm, radiant, still. They moved with quiet grace, their very presence dignified. Unlike the panicked or whiny souls before them, this one didn't tremble or plead. They stood tall, calm as a candle in still air.
The conductor—this time an older, silver-robed figure with eyes like polished obsidian—bowed their head with genuine respect.
"In your previous life, you sacrificed yourself to save an entire village from a flood. Your merits exceed requirement."
There was a pause. A few murmurs. Then—
"You are granted Noble Reincarnation. Title: Royal Prince of the Azure Dynasty."
Gasps rippled through the crowd like waves. Even the grumpy old man next to Shawn looked grudgingly impressed.
Shawn clapped enthusiastically like a kid at a school talent show. "Yeah! Go Flood Hero!"
The noble soul gave a small nod of acknowledgment before stepping gracefully onto a golden carriage that shimmered like starlight dipped in royalty.
The moment the door closed behind him, the color of the realm intensified—deep azure and silver, with cherry blossoms floating inside the windows.
"Fancy," Shawn whispered, still clapping.
Next in line: A sketchy-looking soul shuffled forward. They glanced around nervously, then leaned in toward the Conductor like someone trying to order something illegal off a secret menu.
"Look, I may have… borrowed a few bank accounts," he whispered, trying to sound casual. "But hear me out—what if I return as a billionaire? Huh? I'll cut you a share. Real estate, crypto, reincarnate me right."
The Conductor didn't blink.
Didn't move.
Didn't even breathe.
And then: "Attempted bribery of the Underworld Official."
She raised her hand slowly.
"Punishment: Reincarnation as a public toilet seat."
A pause.
"…Excuse me—what?!"
"In a stadium."
The soul shrieked. "NOOO—WAIT, I CAN CHANGE—DON'T MAKE ME SMELL AGAIN!!"Gone.
Shawn covered his glowing mouth, trying not to howl with laughter. It came out as a stifled wheeze. "This place is better than TV."
Next: A soul trembling like wet paper stepped up.
"I… I saved a dog once. Does that count?"
The Conductor raised an eyebrow. "Did you also… kick that same dog the next day?"
"…It barked at me first."
"Regression denied. Reincarnation as… street pigeon."
The soul groaned. "Can I at least be a fancy pigeon?"
"No."
Shawn leaned back, grinning, thoroughly entertained. Around him, the other souls either sighed, cheered, or stared wide-eyed as their potential futures were determined.
It was chaos.
It was justice.
It was oddly hilarious.
He drifted beside the crowd like a spectator at a festival, watching souls rise, fall, beg, barter, and accept their fate with dignity—or the complete lack of it.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The glowing platform flickered with light. The crowd of souls turned, like petals turning toward the sun.
The Conductor's voice echoed, clear and commanding:
"Next soul—Shawn Miller."
Every head turned. Every soul watched.
Shawn blinked.
"…That's me."
The laughter drained from his chest. His glow dimmed, just slightly.
A strange sensation crept into him. Not fear exactly—but weight. Like gravity remembered him.
It was time.
His turn had come.
His judgement awaited.