Emma was…Somewhere. Maybe nowhere? The idea of places, of “wheres” in general, felt suddenly artificial, paper-thin in her current surroundings. If they could even be described as surrounding her at all. Ugh.
The maybe-place was a possibly-wide, likely-expanse of perhaps-black potentially-dotted by theoretically-stars. There was no gauging the distance from which they shone, nor whether they were stars in the conventional sense or simply…
Simply what, the most life-like facsimile she’d ever seen?
Yes, Emma, that’s a good deal more likely than you standing in space, getting barbequed by cosmic radiation and having the blood vaporize in your veins without even noticing.
Her head hurt, and she wasn’t the only one. Beside Emma were maybe twenty other people, all men, all young, all in tracksuits or pyjamas or other sorts of attire that would fit in her own wardrobe. One coincidence was unlikely, twenty approached impossible. So what was it they all had in common to be gathered here? Not their clothes, most likely, something that was behind their clothes. A lifestyle?
Her thoughts were cut off before she could ponder the question further.
A figure emerged, or descended, or ascended or did any other kind of locomotive verb that may or may not be remotely applicable to the bizarre space in which it “moved”. Whatever the specifics, it was soon before them all. Maybe ten feet high, covered in golden armour that looked like it would’ve been at home on some gothic battlefield. Wings shone from its back, talons seemed to emerge from its fingers, and its exposed face turned to rake the entire line-up of people. As it passed over Emma, she caught the features of…A pretty mundane looking man. No, not pretty, completely. As if his features had been constructed millimetre by millimetre to exactly average human specifications. Astonishingly creepy.
“Greetings, Heroes.” The voice was soothing, and full of pomp. It sounded like some British aristocrat, though its tones were soft, lilting. Emma felt herself relaxing, the tension oozing from her pores as she heard it continue. “You have all been, I am sorry to say, killed. Some of you died heroically, others less so. All, though, are burning with a bright potential to do good. All of you are going to be given the chance to enter a world not your own and fight for the cause of right within it.”
The being let that lie there as it loomed over them, and Emma found herself studying the other faces around.
Obviously, everyone was thrilled. She was too. This was just like some Isekai story. But it was real. Following the usual pattern, she could expect insane magical powers, a cushy new fantasy world to call home and six or seven anatomically improbable anime women all falling head over heels for her. Life would be damned good.
Too good. And over.
I’ve been killed.
Emma frowned, stretching her memory. She could remember a shower, wet tiles, a foot suddenly slipped out from under her. Was that…That was how she’d died. Cracked her head open on something after slipping and just…Gone, like that.
It was so sudden, so unprompted, so…Unfair. Okay, sure, she hadn’t done much with her life, mostly just sat around flicking the bean and playing video games, but she was twenty. She’d had a future, options.
And what were you planning to do with them, Em?
That thought almost hurt more than the death itself. Not the idea that her life was over, but that the rest of it would never begin.
“-And I send you now to be their saviour.” The strange being before them said, just as Emma looked over to see one of the other people present disappearing into some swirling light right behind him.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Circular, swirling lights in the air, that vanished anything entering them. A portal. Good god, this was starting to get overwhelming.
One by one, the being moved down the rows and sent people off. Some of them looked thrilled, others, like Emma, seemed stunned, agonized by what they’d been told. And that was damn well fair enough. Death sucked, your own death? Seemed like that was a level of suck most people would never get to feel.
Unless this was just the afterlife for everybody.
Emma frowned as she thought about it. What the hell was she doing? All this consideration and she’d failed to move onto the actual answer, the obvious answer. Occam’s.
What was more likely; the existence of magic which nobody had ever found, an afterlife which nobody had never detected, both of those things resembling pop culture and anime, and Emma personally being sent through to live out the scenario of her dreams after dying…
…Or a twenty-something loser slipping in the shower, smashing her head open as she fell and then hallucinating while waiting to either die or just lying in a coma eating through a tube and shitting in a bag?
More people were being sent through now, as many sobs as grins. One idiot threw himself at the being, roaring out and lashing it with fists that just seemed to hurt themselves against their target. The armoured figure sighed sadly as it incapacitated him, then made him vanish with a gesture.
“You will need to come to your senses before we allow you to enter your new world.” It said, with a genuine note of sadness in its voice. Which proved nothing of course, any idiot could make a genuine-sounding note of anything in their voice with practice.
Why am I still thinking about this like it’s all real?
Emma almost felt embarrassed, clinging onto the idea of solid reality while watching so many impossibilities around her. If something seemed too good to be true, it probably was. The thought of dying outright was just too horrible to face on its own. So, this. Anime-land. Emma didn’t have her life ended, she got to go and be an epic, magic hero.
Put so starkly as that, she found her mind made up. She was dreaming, nothing around her was real. Now what to do about it?
She was the last one in the line, and there was only one other person. The one who now held the being’s attention.
“Good fortune in your new life, Thomas Woodley.”
This one was a grinner, he flashed Emma a queasy wink and stepped through his portal like some epic hero. She giggled at the sight, and turned up to see the being eying her curiously. A portal opened up behind her as it spoke.
“Is something amusing, child?”
“Everything.” Emma shrugged, then giggled again. She wasn’t quite sure why, didn’t find anything particularly funny. Then again there were probably less appropriate responses people had had to finding out reality wasn’t real and they were a drooling vegetable. “What’s that sky made of?” She asked abruptly.
The being turned to look at where she was gesturing, and the moment it did Emma pounced.
She really wasn’t certain why, it just…Happened. A momentary impulse, an intrusive thought. Emma knew everybody had them from time to time. When most people had them, though, there’d be consequences for indulging, tangible harm caused by acting out on them.
Not for her. She was living in her own dream, so what the hell? She leapt into the air, surprised to find herself clearing a solid eight or nine feet, and came down hard on the being’s back. Both her hands closed around its helmet, and she started…Pulling. Again, not sure why.
“C-Child, what are you- stop, stop it now!” For all its previous dignity, the being seemed quite distraught all of a sudden. Emma started pulling harder, then added a twist. Was she trying to wring its neck? Fuck it, why not. She’d just imagine something new once it died right? If anything it was a good way to test her little theory. The being stumbled, leaning precipitously back towards the portal. Emma herself was now dangling over it, her weight held above the swirling light only by her grip on the being’s head. “Stop!” It roared, voice now broken from the pristine calm, panic engulfing it. “How are you doing this, what- untethered! You are an untethered!”
That seemed like a pretty good way to describe anyone who went around ripping off heads at random, and if Emma were being referred to as such by a real person who had a real head being really pulled at, she might’ve considered it a point scored. As things were, the idea of retorting felt somewhat…Redundant. Talking to oneself was the first sign of madness after all.
Fuck it, she was somewhere past the ninetieth sign by now anyway.
“You’re not real!” Emma snarled, tugging again. “And I’m gonna prove it!”
“Stop!” The being cried out, voice suddenly lacking its preternatural edge. Panicked, uneven, scared. “Stop, you don’t know what you’re doing, this isn’t normal, you’re not normal, you can actually-” a grotesque tearing interrupted the being, and Emma suddenly found herself falling back.
His head was still in her hands, but his neck was no longer connected to it. As the being’s body fell limply forwards, Emma dropped down into the portal and everything went white.