The truck had the personality of a thunderclap—loud, brief, and impossible to argue with.One moment Malik Reed was an eighteen-year-old with a backpack full of unfinished homework and a head full of half-grown plans. The next moment the world turned into a spinning coin of asphalt and sky, and the coin landed on silence.
Silence, however, turned out to be temporary.
He woke to the smell of warm grass and something sweet like overripe peaches. No hospital lights, no sirens, no worried faces. Just a blue sky so clean it looked freshly invented. Malik sat up, patted his arms and legs, and discovered they were all present and surprisingly enthusiastic about being used.
"Okay," he said to no one. "Either I survived or the afterlife has excellent landscaping."
A shimmer gathered in the air above him, arranging itself into glowing letters. They looked less written than breathed onto glass.
WELCOME, TRAVELER.YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO A NEW WORLD.LIVE FULLY. PROCREATE. ENJOY LIFE.– THE GODDESS
The message faded with a polite sparkle, like it had places to be.
Malik reread the empty air several times. "That's it? No instruction manual? No map? Just… make babies and have fun?" He waited for a follow-up, perhaps a pamphlet on local customs or a coupon for destiny. Nothing arrived.
A breeze carried the distant sound of bells and voices. Beyond a gentle hill he spotted the roofs of a town, tiled in colors he didn't have names for. It was real, then—real enough to require walking shoes and courage.
He chose courage and started walking.