This is the final chapter of the first arc in Otherside. I hope it is to your liking. It's mainly a transition chapter, but those are still very important.

If anyone wants to contact me for any reason, find me on Discord at Lucas Whitefur#7822. But enough about that; I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

VICTOR CHELAN, 20* - FIRST PERSON

It's remarkable how quickly you can adjust to a new reality. Even if it's something utterly shocking such as there being a heavenly afterlife (or at least, one you're told is heavenly), one can become accustomed to it after a while.

Within the first few days of having arrived on Paradise Island, I realized that when I woke up in the morning, I was no longer surprised to find myself here. I felt as though all of this were normal, which, to be fair, it was for many others here.

As soon as I'd returned from my aptitude test, Amanda had been waiting for me at the door with a tall glass of mango juice. She was smiling at me, and, although I couldn't quite place the reason, she might have been proud of me.

"How did your test go?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious rather than simply going through the motions.

"I think it went okay" I replied, not knowing what else to tell her. Those were my actual feelings, but even if they hadn't been, was I supposed to say that it went terribly?

I mean, Amanda is my soulmate. I'm supposed to trust her.

"That's good to hear," the Braixen replied, pointing towards the kitchen. "I made chicken pot pie for lunch; I bet you must be famished."

That was the leading candidate for Understatement Of The Year, 2021. Having skipped breakfast, taken an oral exam, and then going through a burning maze as a Growlithe, I felt as though I could have eaten a Rapidash.

"I am" I said, chuckling as I felt (and heard) my stomach growl. "I haven't eaten all day; I didn't have time once I reached Enil Edam."

"Eat as much as you want, then. We might be dead, but you still have to nourish yourself, especially with a transition coming up."

It was then that I remembered what Amanda had told me the first morning about the medication she took, as well as the reason she was taking it. If I recalled correctly, she'd said that the side effects included insomnia.

We sat down at the table, where a steaming chicken pot pie was sitting on its coaster. Chicken pot pie was typically a dish eaten on winter evenings in my family, but I didn't mind having it at other times. Amanda cut herself a slice and then allowed me to do the same.

"How did you become such a good cook, Amanda?" I asked her, finishing a bite of delectable chicken that had been cooked to perfection. "Like, back on Earth, I barely knew how to microwave hot dogs or mac n' cheese."

"They say practice makes perfect" the Braixen responded matter-of-factly. "That's mostly true, although I would object to the use of the word perfect. The fact is, nobody's perfect."

We don't have to be perfect to get here. We just have to be good enough.

"I guess not," I replied. Although the food was delicious, it was still very hot, so neither of us took a bite for a while as we waited for it to cool down. This gave us more time to talk.

"Did they tell you what Pokemon you're supposed to become?" Amanda asked me at one point, sniffing a piece of carrot to see if it was cool enough to eat.

I shook my head. "That disembodied voice in the arena just told me that I'd done well, and that I was free to go. They didn't tell me anything specific about the results."

For a moment, I was worried that something had gone wrong, so I was very relieved when Amanda continued speaking.

"That's normal," she told me. "It took a day or two for my results to come back as well. Some things here are processed quickly, but this can take some time."

"Good. That makes me feel better."

"Anytime" the Braixen replied in between blowing on her pot pie in order to cool it further.

Even though my results weren't available yet, I felt fairly confident that I'd become a Growlithe. This assumption (and it was only that, an assumption) was based on the fact that I'd seemed to ace the trial as that Pokemon species. In theory, I should be in tune with Growlithe, or whatever the term was.

After lunch, the rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Back on Earth, I'd cherished the days when I didn't have any obligations, since they meant I could simply rest, relax, and recover from a stressful week of school.

This was no longer the case in the immortal realm, at least not for me. I can't speak for anyone else, but I felt restless as I paced back and forth in the house, eventually settling in on the porch with a tall glass of lemonade and a book.

The day had grown very hot, but the maritime winds served to cool things down a bit. The sweat my body produced evaporated almost immediately as a result, for which I was quite grateful; I didn't want to end up soaking the cushions.

At one point, Amanda came outside to visit me, but I was so engrossed in the book that I didn't hear her. It wasn't until she placed a plate of freshly-baked cranberry cookies in front of me that I noticed her presence.

"A bit restless today, are you?" she asked, evidently able to notice that my toes were tapping against the wooden porch.

"Yeah, how did you know?" I replied, chuckling. Even the smallest amount of levity went a long way towards helping me relax.

It needs to be said that the test results made me very nervous. Yes, there was a good chance I'd get Growlithe, but what if I got something tiny like Charmander? Would anyone even take me seriously as a Charmander?

Back to the conversation, it was Amanda's turn to laugh. "Your body language indicates that you really need something to do. Why not go for a walk on the beach?"

I had no reason to argue with her. While I didn't want to go anywhere that didn't have significant shade, I was desperate for something, anything to alleviate the boredom. Besides, I could always jump in the ocean and cool off if need be.

"Yes, let's. I just need to get into my bathing suit and swim shirt."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "You're twenty years old, and yet you still wear a swim shirt?"

"Well, most women wear bikinis when swimming. I see no difference!"

"There is a big difference, but I don't want to get into it. Do what you need to do, and then let's get going."

I headed up to my bedroom and changed into my swim clothes: A red bathing suit and black swim shirt with the words You Only Live Once on it. I snorted as I noticed this, hoping Amanda would appreciate the irony as much as I did.

When I went back to the living room, Amanda was still right there, waiting for me. I realized that, in all the time I'd been here, most of the Pokemon hadn't been wearing clothes.

I asked Amanda about this, to which she responded, "We don't need to wear clothes, Victor. Fur keeps us warm enough; indeed, my fur sometimes makes it feel like I'm getting boiled alive in this heat!"

We walked together out the front door. We weren't holding hands or anything like that, but I felt connected to Amanda somehow in a way I hadn't felt before.

Is this what love feels like? No, it's too early to say that. I've only known her for a couple of days...really hard to believe it's only been two days.

Ever since the day before yesterday, my worldview had been completely shattered, everything blown away until there was nothing left. A whole new construction of reality had taken its place, one in which Earth wasn't all there was, and one in which fictional universes were real.

Amanda led me down a gravel path for about half a mile that ran parallel to a pineapple field. Then, she took a right, going down a slight incline where the grass had been shaped to form stairs.

The beach was absolutely spectacular. It was made up of tiny white grains of sand, somewhat resembling sugar or salt. Crystal-clear waves lapped against the shoreline, breaking at low heights. This wasn't necessarily an ideal beach for surfing, but since I wasn't much of a surfer anyway, I was just fine with that.

Although the beach was soft and sandy, comfortable enough to walk on barefoot, there were also several rock formations rising up from the water. I wasn't sure what type of rock they consisted of, but they were still quite a sight to behold.

I don't want to deceive anyone about this; not all was perfect here. I was still dead, after all. My family still didn't know where I was, or even that I still existed in any capacity. And meanwhile, I was awaiting the results of an extremely high-stakes standardized test that would chart the course for the rest of my afterlife.

Even so, I was pretty happy at that moment to simply walk along the beach, hearing the waves form just out to sea, watching seagulls fly into and out of the water, and even see a few tropical fish out there.

I died at sea just a few days ago.

That was true, but my brain tried to hammer that thought into the ground. The circumstances of my demise no longer mattered; the only thing I should be concerned with now was making the most of my second chance. Still, would I ever enter the ocean the same way again?

This is the afterlife, I thought. What do I have to prove to anyone, other than myself?

Sometimes, proving that you are braver than you believe is its own reward. Out of nowhere, without giving Amanda any indication, I started running towards the water's edge. I didn't look back.

Although I couldn't see her face, I imagine that at that moment, the Braixen must have thought my feet were burning up from the hot sand. This wasn't the case; the sand was very comfortable against every part of my feet, from my heels to my toes.

The water wasn't exactly like bath water in terms of temperature, but it wasn't nearly as chilly as I'd expected it to be. It was pleasantly cool, exactly what one would hope a tropical paradise's ocean would be like.

"I'll jump in with you!" I heard Amanda exclaim from behind me.

I looked around to find my soulmate sprinting towards the sea, but as soon as she reached the edge, she slowed down and then gradually lowered herself into the water as though it were a hot tub.

"Do you ever go here alone?" I asked her.

The Braixen shook her head. "They say to always swim with a buddy, and before you came along, I didn't have anybody to swim with. The last person was…".

"Yeah, but you're a pretty strong swimmer, right? The currents probably aren't that dangerous anyway, and even if the worst comes to worst and you do drown, surely you just respawn somewhere, right?"

Amanda laughed, presumably at my use of the word respawn. "Truth be told, Victor, I don't know what happens if you die in this world. I don't want to try it."

It then hit me. Amanda had just mentioned the last person. Did she mean her last designated soulmate, by any chance?

I wasn't going to press her on that just yet, but it would certainly give me something to think about. Judging by her newly anxious look as we bathed in the sea, I knew that she'd said something she now deeply regretted.

Would I ever know why she regretted saying it? That was anyone's guess, but as I looked into my soulmate's eyes, I knew there was something she wasn't telling me.

The next couple of days were, as some might say, a hot mess for me. And I mean that quite seriously; it was both hot and a mess.

Hot, I mean in the literal sense. For the next two days, the heat did not abate one bit; if anything, it was more intense. Fortunately, I didn't have to pick mangoes again on either Monday or Tuesday; on both days, I was assigned to work in food service.

Within an hour of beginning my shift at Eatsa Pizza on Monday, I was reminded of the exact reason I'd refused to work food service during my first life. I would say more, but that's a rant for another day.

And, speaking of hot, the pizza kitchen was sweltering, to the point that I would have given quite a bit to be in the mango orchard instead. It was a classic case of "out of the frying pan, into the fire."

I arrived back from that shift soaked in sweat and covered in flour, but there was something about a hard day's work I found satisfying, even if the work itself was very tedious. I made sure to take a shower before I spoke to Amanda that evening.

On Tuesday, my assignment was to scoop frozen yogurt, which was a welcome departure from the pizza parlor. For obvious reasons, Frozen Assets put a great deal of resources into making sure their air conditioning was always working, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Yes, scooping fro-yo was just as tedious as making pizzas, but it was far more pleasant when the workplace wasn't a hundred degrees or more. I could live with it, even if I didn't enjoy it. I was almost sad when my shift ended and I had to walk back in the oppressive heat of the late afternoon.

During those two days, I was haunted by the thought that my test results might not be to my liking. If I ended up as a Sobble or a Skitty, for instance (nothing against those species, of course; I just didn't want to be one), I was in for a bad time.

My results were not in the mail when I returned from the pizza parlor on Monday afternoon. They weren't there when I got back on Tuesday, either. With each day that passed, my sense of anticipation only grew stronger, and I became increasingly terrified of the truth.

But I have no reason to be terrified. This is supposed to be heaven, is it not?

Of course, the key words there were "supposed to be." As time went on, I believed less and less that I lived in a utopia.

Wednesday, however, went a bit differently.

The first sound that forced its way into my brain that morning was that of a thunderclap. I wasn't particularly afraid of thunder, least of all when I was lying safely in my comfortable twin bed, but it was still jarring to hear it for the first time in this new world.

It was still dark out; judging by the exact shade of the sky, it was probably four or five in the morning. Amanda might be awake by now, or she might not be, depending on if her medication-induced insomnia had reared its ugly head today.

With an apprehensive gulp, I remembered that it wouldn't be long until I started on my own meds, ones that very well might have the same side effects in me. Few things in this world, or any world, are worse than waking in the middle of the night, knowing you need sleep badly, and yet not being able to drift off again.

Although I'd been anxious for the letter to arrive, so that it would put me out of my misery, part of me now wished to delay the inevitable for as long as I could. When I got to the front door, it was very much possible that my test results would be waiting for me, as would be my medication.

Staying in bed for a longer period of time might only buy me another few minutes before I had to face the ugly truth, but that was still something. Besides, there's something relaxing about being in a nice, comfy, warm bed while you hear a storm raging outside.

At some point, though, the grumbling of my stomach became too loud to ignore. Even though I was no longer among the living, I still had to eat.

Getting dressed was harder than I'd expected it would be. Normally, I didn't have to give too much thought to putting my clothes on; it's a task that everyone's supposed to do easily after...what age? Three? Oh well, it didn't really matter, because I was so inattentive at dressing myself that I was trying to put my shirt on my legs and wondering why it wouldn't fit.

Once I realized my mistake, I laughed, trying to defuse my own anxiety. Needless to say, I paid a lot more attention to my morning routine after that.

Heading downstairs, I saw that Amanda was at the computer, presumably using Pillowtalk. Honestly, there was probably no need for the "presumably" qualifier, since Pillowtalk was the only app on the desktop.

The Braixen seemed to be talking to herself. "It says here that there won't be any chores today; they are all cancelled due to the storm."

"Hey, Amanda!" I called out as I entered the room.

She turned to face me, looking rather surprised. "Oh, good morning, Victor. I was just checking our schedule for today; there is nothing that we need to do."

I had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I could really use a distraction from my worries regarding the test results. On the other hand, I'd have more time to do what I wanted here, as long as it was within the house; it didn't seem like a good idea to go outside.

I replied in a manner that, at the time, sounded rather witty. "So we don't have anything we need to do, but is there anything you want to do?"

"Well, you should probably check the mail. But other than that, I wouldn't advise going outside until the storm blows over; some people here think that the tropical storms come straight from the Pit of Panda."

I still hadn't forgotten my dream from the very first night. If the winds from the storm stank of raw sewage, then I had no desire to leave my home until it was well and truly over.

"Does it smell bad out there during the storms?" I asked Amanda. "I mean, worse than the smell of ozone?"

The Braixen nodded. "Oh my Arceus, it's one of the worst smells one can imagine. Think of a dumpster on the hottest day of the year, and then multiply it by ten. Besides picking up the mail, you really should stay indoors."

Wait a minute...picking up the mail? Did it come?

"What mail?" I blurted out.

Amanda winked at me. "I think you know what I'm referring to. Just go to the door and bring it inside, but please don't leave the door open any longer than it needs to be. We don't want the house smelling like a manure pond."

I snorted and made my way to the front door. Sure enough, there was a small singular package on the other side. The instant that I opened said door to retrieve the package, I was hit by a stench that made my eyes water.

I won't even try to describe just how rancid the air was; I'll let the reader use their imagination for that. What I will say is that it was nearly impossible to see, since I had the irresistible urge to keep my eyes almost completely shut.

Picking up the package, I shut the door, turned around, opened my eyes, and exhaled deeply. Needless to say, I would not be opening that door again.

"Did you get the mail?" Amanda asked me as I returned to the living room.

In response, I held up the package for her to see. I heard her sniff unhappily, though, and I knew she was about to chew me out for something.

"Okay. I really think you should take a shower before you open the package; no offense, but you smell like death right now."

She probably wasn't trying to insult me, but it's hard not to feel offended when someone tells you that you smell horrible. I didn't say anything, though, and instead complied with Amanda's suggestion and headed upstairs to the bathroom to shower.

I took the longest shower of my afterlife, sitting down on the floor as the water circled all around me. The whole time, I gagged at the scent from the storm.

If the air came right from the Pit of Panda...is that even supposed to happen? Or does that somehow mean something's wrong?

I chose not to dwell on that, instead focusing on scrubbing my body with coconut-scented shampoo. Most of the time, I took fairly short showers, only washing each part of my body once, but I took great care to be as thorough as possible today.

Once I was as clean as reasonably possible, I resolved that I would never again open the door during a storm. Dressing in clean sweat pants and a fleece shirt, I went back to the living room to retrieve my package.

"Wash your hands after you finish reading the mail" Amanda instructed me. "I don't know if surface contamination is possible from the winds, but that's not a risk I'm willing to take."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I agreed to do as she told me. Ripping open the package, I saw that there was a single envelope inside. The envelope was addressed to Victor Chelan at 1109 Palm Drive.

My heart began racing two hundred miles per hour as though it were on a NASCAR track. Tearing open the envelope, I saw that there was only one sheet of paper inside, which I began reading aloud. The paper read as follows:

Dear Victor Chelan,

Based on your score in the Trial of the Burning Maze (99.5%), it has been determined that you possess near-perfect aptitude for the path of Growlithe. As such, this is the Pokemon species you will transition into.

The transition will be facilitated by medication, your first prescription of which will be delivered to your door later today. Side effects of the medication may include nausea, insomnia, and extreme hunger.

We would like to congratulate you on your near-perfect score, and wish you all the best in the rest of your afterlife.

Sincerely,

The Paradise Island Aptitude Testing Committee (PIATC)

There was a lot to unpack there. I read the note thrice, each time taking note of different details within it.

I wasn't too surprised that I'd received a good score; my own sense had been that I'd aced the trial. On some level, I was surprised that I'd gotten so close to being perfect, but how had they determined the exact number? That was one of the great mysteries of this universe.

Of course, this meant that I would become a Growlithe; the letter told me as much. Knowing that I'd soon have four legs did worry me, since one of my difficulties during the trial was simply moving around as a quadruped.

And having a thick coat of fur had to be quite a nuisance in the hot, tropical environment. I made a mental note to ask Amanda about any tips she might have for dealing with it, because the last thing I wanted in paradise was heat stroke.

Finally, the side effects from the drugs I'd end up taking could include both nausea and extreme hunger. I didn't understand how those two things could coexist, but stranger things had happened here. Insomnia might be the hardest one to deal with.

"What does it say?" Amanda asked me, sidling up next to my shoulder and presumably trying to read over it. "Anything about your test results?"

I nodded. "Growlithe" I replied breathlessly, telling her everything she needed to know.

"I hope you're ready for our grocery bills to double, Victor," the Braixen said, clearly doing her best to suppress laughter, "because that's exactly what they're going to do. You are going to be ravenous, they say that Growlithe can burn as much as eight thousand calories a day!"

Well then. If I "have" to eat eight thousand calories a day, that sounds kind of nice! I love food!

Of course, if I ever subsequently found myself in a situation where I struggled to find food, then I'd be in trouble. But from this juncture, I couldn't see how I would ever lack anything in paradise.

"Well, we'd better get started on breakfast," I told Amanda, smiling. "I don't want to starve."

"We've got plenty of ingredients here," she said. "But would you mind helping me cook? I don't want to be alone."

It was certainly nice of her to invite me to help create the meal. At least, that's how I chose to interpret it; she wanted us to be equal partners in this relationship. That's what my parents had always told me about the secret to a happy marriage, which wasn't much of a secret in all honesty.

Even though I had to try hard to choke back a sob, I was getting better at not breaking down when I thought of my Earthly family. Some say that time heals all wounds, and my experience was bearing that out every single day.

On some level, I felt guilty for pushing thoughts of my parents and Jenna to the backburner, since remembering where I had come from was very important. If this was a chance to rectify my mistakes from Earth, for one, then it made sense to know what those mistakes were so I didn't repeat them.

I'm not forgetting them, though. I can still picture all of their faces, and I'll still do my best to take the lessons from my first life and apply them here.

"Uh, Paradise Island to Victor" I heard a familiar female voice utter.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Um...what are we making here?"

"Omelets" Amanda responded simply. "They'll give you plenty of energy, even if you'll be sitting around and doing nothing much for the rest of the day. Or at least, probably the rest of the day; Pillowtalk doesn't have weather forecasting."

I internally processed what she was telling me. "So these sewage storms usually last for a day?"

My soulmate shrugged. "About that, most of the time. Sometimes it's a bit longer, sometimes shorter, though I wouldn't bet on the latter if I were in Vegas."

"Amanda, we'll never be twenty-one!" I joked.

She didn't seem to find it very funny. "Anyway, you've got to crack the eggs just right. What goes in the bowl must be as much of the yolk as possible, but without any of the shell; it is a bitch to dig out!"

Back when I'd been living in the United States as opposed to Alola, I hadn't spent much time cooking. I'd done a few baking projects, but I was at a complete loss on how to cook eggs to make an omelet.

Fortunately, Amanda was pretty accommodating. She showed me how to whisk everything up in the pan, then adding the vegetables; green pepper and onions and even a few mushrooms.

When all was said and done, it didn't seem like a very hard recipe; I could probably do it again without assistance if prompted. It was probably somewhat demeaning for Amanda to have to show me everything, but she was supportive enough that she was willing to do it.

"My parents", she said as we were sitting down to eat, both our omelets having been cooked to what she considered perfection, "always told me that a meal tastes better when you were the one to prepare it. There's a certain magic that comes along with cooking."

"Magic? Amanda, cooking's perfectly possible on Earth!" I said, trying for another joke. I was really on a roll today.

The Braixen rolled her eyes and dug into her omelet. "This is out-of-this-world good."

I had the temptation to crack another joke about how we were in a world full of perfect food, but my soulmate's body language told me that she wasn't in the mood for any more of my lame quips. Instead, I just shut up and ate.

Even if the food wasn't exceptional by heavenly standards, it still tasted pretty damn good. Amanda was right; there was a certain satisfaction in eating something you'd cooked yourself as opposed to something your parents or a chef cooked for you.

In the back of my mind, somewhere, I knew that the halcyon days on Paradise Island (or at least, relatively halcyon) were fleeting. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, we would be tested somehow. We might have made it to heaven, but not everything was going to be heavenly.

Looking at it now, I wished I could have known that day would come sooner than I'd thought.

For the record, I like wearing swim shirts; I think they look pretty cool. I just wanted to create some extra intrigue. But make no mistake, I am NOT running out of ideas. Also, like Victor, I have no idea how to make an omelet.

Since this is the end of the first story arc, I will post the current stats here.

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I am blown away by the support, and I will see you guys next time!