It was a day like any other.
The fluorescent lights buzzed lazily above, mixing with the half-hearted drone of a history lecture.
Kyle sat in the second row by the window — the perfect spot for zoning out, watching clouds, and pretending not to exist. He wasn't asleep. Not really. Just cruising at low brainpower.
"Kyle Harrington!"
His head snapped up like someone had yanked a string. The teacher's voice cut through the fog in his brain — sharp, tired, and one more late submission away from early retirement.
"Present!" Kyle blurted, louder than necessary.
A few snickers broke the stillness. Mark, his desk mate and unofficial co-conspirator in classroom apathy, leaned over. "Dude, you drooled on your book."
Kyle glanced down. Sure enough, a sizable wet patch soaked the corner of Introduction to World History. He flipped the page like it had betrayed him and muttered, "Maybe it's evolving."
The teacher didn't even look up. "Unless you want to repeat this class next year, Mr. Harrington, I'd suggest staying conscious."
Kyle gave a half-hearted nod and pretended to jot notes. Really, he was sketching out fantasy RPG classes in the margins of his notebook. Battle Bard, Pyro Chef, Goose Whisperer... Goose Whisperer, he thought with a grin, would absolutely be overpowered.
When the bell finally rang, Mark was already halfway out the door. "Park. 4:30. Don't bail this time."
"Can't," Kyle said, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Promised Grandma I'd help in the greenhouse. Grandpa's trying to grow orange-flavored tomatoes again."
Mark gave him a blank look. "You're skipping hoops for mutant fruit?"
Kyle just shrugged. "Family comes first, man."
Mark shook his head dramatically. "You're basically seventy."
But Kyle didn't mind. His life wasn't flashy. It was quiet, grounded — the kind of life where mornings started with herbal tea and ended with the scent of fresh soil. Raised by his grandparents, his world was full of greenhouse tools, weird jam recipes, and unconditional love. It wasn't exciting, but it mattered. That was enough.
By the time Kyle stepped off the bus, the sun had started its slow descent. He walked with his earbuds in, humming along to a lo-fi remix of anime openings. The sidewalk still radiated heat, and the cicadas were deep into their evening chorus.
As he reached the intersection near his neighborhood, something caught his eye — a faint flicker of light on the pavement. Not a reflection. It shimmered like glitched pixels from an old game.
He slowed. "That's... weird."
A low rumble rolled through the air.
He turned.
TRUUUUUCK—
A white delivery truck tore around the corner, way too fast. Sunlight glinted off the windshield just long enough for Kyle to see his own reflection.
There was no time to move.
Just a flash of white. And.
Death.
***
Silence was all Kyle felt.
Then, a gentle chime.
[Ding. Loading: Afterlife… Please wait.]
Kyle groaned as his senses flickered back. Sort of.
He wasn't lying in the street. He wasn't even on Earth.
He stood — or maybe floated — inside a vast palace made of translucent stone that glowed softly like moonlight on water. The air shimmered. Scrolls floated lazily above him. An ornate teapot poured itself endlessly into an empty cup. And a painting of a unicorn in sunglasses glared at him like it knew all his secrets.
"Okay," Kyle muttered, glancing around. "What the hell is this?"
A burst of static rang out, followed by choir music that sounded like it had been recorded in a broken blender. A radiant figure flickered into view.
She looked like a high-tier NPC from a fantasy game — flowing robes traced with glowing runes, hair that floated as if underwater, and eyes like swirling galaxies. But the effect was slightly ruined by her frazzled expression and the not-so-quiet muttering about "soul quotas" and "cosmic scheduling errors."
"Uh," Kyle said, "hi?"
She jumped. "Oh! You're awake! Right, right. Okay." She cleared her throat. "Welcome, mortal soul, to the Sacred Domain of Transitional Souls!"
Kyle blinked. "That name kinda sucks."
The woman sighed. "I know. I didn't come up with it."
She composed herself again. "I am Altheria, Goddess of Balance and Administrator of Earth's reincarnation system. And... I regret to inform you that you are, unfortunately, dead."
He stared. "You serious?"
"Very."
"Because of a truck?"
"Truck-kun," she said solemnly.
He blinked. "...What?"
"It's a thing. Cosmic meme. Long story." She waved her hand dismissively. "You weren't supposed to die for another sixty-two years, so... this is awkward."
Kyle's voice dropped, softer now. "What about my grandparents?"
Altheria's proud tone faltered.
She stepped forward, her expression gentler. "They'll be okay."
Kyle didn't answer, just kept looking at her, jaw tight.
"We've already assigned them a karmic guardian," she added. "They won't be left alone. And… there's a lottery ticket coming their way. It won't fix everything, but it'll help."
He lowered his head. "They raised me. I was all they had."
There was a pause.
"They'll grieve," she said quietly, "but their path won't be empty. You mattered. That won't fade."
Kyle stayed silent for a moment, then let out a breath and nodded.
Altheria seemed to take that as her cue to brighten up. "Now, as part of our cosmic compensation plan, you're eligible for a high-tier reincarnation package! Magic, swords, dragons, system interface — the whole premium experience. You'll even get a random overpowered skill."
Kyle blinked. "You're offering me... an isekai?"
"With bonuses."
He gave a short laugh. "This day was so dumb, it's looping back to awesome."
"Great!" she clapped. "Just step through the portal when you're ready—"
A swirling golden portal materialized behind her. Kyle took one step toward it.
Then something nudged his shoe.
He looked down.
A small black cube — barely the size of a dice — sat on the floor. The moment he touched it, it blinked. Violet light pulsed from its surface.
It launched upward and struck his chest.
WUBWUBWUB.
Kyle reeled back. The cube melted into his skin, symbols flaring across his chest before vanishing. The portal behind him flickered — the soft gold twisting into violent violet.
Altheria's eyes widened in horror. "No. No no no! That wasn't supposed to be here!"
Kyle felt it then — a pull. Not physical, but deep, soul-deep. Something was dragging him toward the portal, fast.
"What the hell did I just touch?!"
"That's a Fate-Level Artifact!" she shouted. "You weren't authorized for that!"
His expression turned panicked. "Well, you didn't exactly put up a sign!"
"That cube... it holds ancient abilities — thousands of them! From lost realms! I don't even know everything it can do!"
Kyle staggered as the force pulling him grew stronger. "Then get it out of me!"
"I can't! It's bound to your soul now! You triggered a full override!"
She hurled a binding spell at the portal, but it shattered instantly. Her face twisted in frustration.
"I searched twelve epochs for that thing! Whole civilizations crumbled while I kept it hidden! And now you—!"
She cut herself off, overwhelmed.
Kyle was halfway through the portal now, the light turning blinding.
"What kind of world is it sending me to?!"
Altheria looked helpless.
"I don't kno—!"
Then everything exploded into white.