It was supposed to be a normal day.
Coffee. Headphones. City noise. Nothing special.
I walked the same cracked sidewalks, humming to a song only half in tune. The sky was unusually blue. A perfect day for living, really.
So of course, fate decided I wouldn't.
I was checking my phone - maybe a meme, maybe some random article about parallel dimensions (ironically)- when the shadow came.
A flicker. A shape.
And then—
CRASH.
A piano.
An actual piano.
From the fifth floor of an apartment building. Maybe loosened by time, maybe gravity, and what you would later call "the universe's sense of humor."
My last thought wasn't profound.
It was, quite literally:
"No f—ing way."
*****
Silence.
Then... static.
Not darkness. Not light.
Just glitching pixels and a sensation like being halfway between a dream and a computer error.
A soft ding echoed in the void.
[System 707 initializing…]
A pause.
Another ding. This time with more attitude. (....Huh?)
[System 707 online. Welcome, Host.]
Congratulations. You died.
"..."
[Again.]
A glowing screen flickered in front of my shaky eyes, hanging in the air like a hologram with bad Wi-Fi. It pulsed with text in digital blue, as a voice - dry, sarcastic, somehow bored and amused at the same time, filled the space.
"Before you ask: yes, you're dead. No, this isn't heaven. No, you don't get a refund. And no, I won't repeat myself."
I blinked. "What the hell is happening?"
"Language. Tsk. You're being registered into the Multi-Existence Synchronization Protocol - fancy name for you now hop between worlds every time you die."
"Lucky you."
"…Excuse me?"
"You'll be placed in different bodies. Different identities. Different worlds. Each time, you'll learn, adapt, survive - or don't. You can carry one object from each world to the next."
"Skills you've learned? They stay with you."
"Memories? Oh, you'll remember everything. Try not to spiral."
I squinted at the floating interface. "Are you real?"
"Define 'real.' I'm System 707, your assigned transmigration assistant. Think Siri, if she had trauma, judgmental tendencies, and access to every version of your soul."
"…Cool."
"Also, quick note: this isn't optional. You died. The contract signed itself. Welcome to the job you never applied for."
"Now. Let's begin, shall we?"
The void around me seems to pulse, fragments of color and code swirling into what looked like a loading screen. In the center: a Start Button.
I reached out. I don't - for god's sake, know why I did so…
"Oh, and Host?"
I paused.
"Try not to die too fast this time. I just got rebooted and I hate paperwork."
I rolled my eyes and my finger pressed the button.
Just then, the world shattered into stars.
....what in th hell?