"You're dead."
That was the first thing the old guy—who looked suspiciously like the original Dumbledore—told me. No hello, no warm-up. Just: dead.
I'm what? I thought.
"Dead. Terribly inconvenient, yes, but these things do happen."
…Did he just?
"Yes, I did. And thank you, I might add, for the comparison."
He said everything so politely I almost didn't believe him—except for the fact that we were floating in a blank white void that looked like someone had ordered "Afterlife" from a catalog and left it on default settings.
"Hmm, yes. Though I would've thought the fact that you're a floating amorphous orb of light was the real giveaway."
Wait. Orb of light?
I looked down. Yep. No hands. No feet. No body. Just… glowing blob. Fantastic. I wasn't even a proper ghost.
…So how did I die?
"Ah, right of course." The old man clapped his hands, conjuring a scroll. He read from it like he was checking a grocery list.
"Oliver Fielding. Age thirty. Cause of death: acute gastroenteritis. Colloquially—food poisoning. You purchased two egg salad sandwiches from a convenience store. Consumed one Friday evening, the other Saturday morning. Deceased Sunday afternoon."
If I still had a jaw, I'd have dropped it.
I died from an egg salad!?
"Official notation: unremarkable death."
Unremarkable. My whole life summed up in one word. Dead-end job. No friends. No girlfriend. Weekends spent doom-scrolling. I hadn't lived—I'd just filled space.
But still… eggs?
"Terribly undignified, yes," the old man said sympathetically. "But in your defense, you would've died of exhaustion a week later."
Oh, well that's comforting.
"It is?"
NO IT ISN'T.
Strangely, I realized I was more upset about how I died than the fact I'd actually died. Which probably said everything about my so-called life.
So… that's it?
"Oh no, not the end." He perked up. "Now we get on to the matter of your return."
Wait. Reincarnation? Like… second chance reincarnation? As in I get to do it over again? This was it! My second chance. And this time I'd—
"Ahem."
The old man cleared his throat loud enough to derail my fantasy montage.
"Sorry to interrupt your train of thought, but there are some caveats I fear you must know."
…Uh oh.
"You see, Oliver, one's eligibility is weighted by their life choices. And in your case, well… we have something rather unique."
…Unique?
"Your karma. It's… zero."
A fat, smug zero stared back at me from the scroll.
"Neither good nor bad. Perfectly neutral. Statistically improbable—almost like you were never there at all."
H-how does something like that happen?
"Every good action you took was undone by a comparatively bad one."
I flailed my non-existent arms. "No way! I helped people!"
"You helped an elderly woman into her home… except it wasn't her home. She was a thief. Net result: zero."
Not the granny…
"Yes. The granny."
…So what does that mean for me?
"Well, I could return you to the cycle as, let's see… ah. How do you feel about life as a garden gnome?"
I froze.
My second life… as a lawn ornament. Spending decades staring at hedges and getting peed on by dogs.
I wanted to make a run for it.
The old man gave a nervous cough. "There is… an alternative."
Anything! I screamed internally. I'll take anything else!
"I warn you, it is rather experimental."
Whatever, I thought, desperation overriding reason. It can't be worse than gnome.
"Well, in that case, congratulations on being the first recipient of our Otherworld Reincarnation Program!"
…Come again?
Before I could object, he slammed a glowing stamp onto the scroll, pulled out a pair of half-moon glasses, and unfurled a wrinkly piece of parchment.
"Ahem. You are to be reincarnated into the fantasy world of Terramana as a Guardian. Due to the threat of the Demon Lord—"
Excuse me, what? Demon lord!? Like from some game kind of Demon lord!?
"—a request for aid has been put in by Terramana's overseer." he continued, pretending not to hear me.
"You are to have your soul placed into a compatible vessel. As a Guardian you are tasked with defeating the demon lord"
I'm about to get Jumanjied into DragonQuest aren't I!?
The old man paused, squinting at his parchment. Then he glanced up at me, tilting his head down just enough to peer over his glasses.
"Tell me—how are you with people? This will require a great deal of… crowd work. And the people of Terramana can be somewhat… peculiar."
…What?
He studied me for half a second, then coughed into his hand.
"Actually, forget I asked. I think I already know the answer."
HEY!
He skimmed down his parchment. "Then it says something about unique monsters, guaranteed death, eradication of the soul, et cetera, et cetera."
I know you can hear my thoughts, old man! I choose garden gnome! Garden gnome!
"Ah, here we are. Upon defeating the demon lord you will be given a single wish of your choice"
After he finished reading the old man smiled like he'd just handed me a golden ticket.
He then leaned in and whispered like he was letting me on to something super secret, "If I were you, I'd use that wish to return your world"
…Yeah. I'm screwed.
The only silver lining in all this madness was that at the very least, I'd be a person again. Even if it was in another world, I could just… hide from the Demon Lord, right? They couldn't actually force me to fight him.
"Person?" The old man tilted his head. "Who said anything about becoming a person?"
My glowing orb of a body wobbled.
…You did! You literally just said—
"I said 'suitable vessel'. That doesn't mean person." He said it so flatly I almost felt stupid for not knowing something nobody other than him would know.
Then what am I coming back as!?
There was silence.
He then shrugged his shoulders and just looked me dead in the orb, "How would I know?".
Before I could ram myself into him, the floor turned to light and started swallowing me whole.
Damn you, Dumbledore!!!
*
*
*
[Initializing Guardian Vessel…]
Light. Then smell. Dirt. Moss. Wet leaves. Old wood.
When my eyes adjusted, I realized I was in some kind of forest.
And when I looked down—
…fur. White fur.
My ears twitched on their own. My nose wiggled. My legs were way too springy.
Oh no.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in my head. It sounded like Dumbledore, except stripped of all emotion.
To obtain a detailed view of yourself, I suggest opening your Status menu. Simply think of the word: Status.
…Old man? Why do you sound like a GPS?
[Incorrect. I am the System. I exist to guide the Guardian. Through me, you may grow beyond your natural limits.]
Great. Another voice in my head. That always ends well.
…Fine. Status.
A glowing text box appeared.
[Status]
Species: Lesser Horned Rabbit
Level: 1/10
HP: 30 | MP: –
Stats: Vit – F- | Str – F | End – F+ | Agi – E | Int – C- | Wis – F+ | Lck – E
Skills: –
Titles: [Guardian]
I read it once. Twice. Three times.
…I'm a bunny.
[Correction. A horned rabbit.]
….