Reincarnation is a process that varies for everyone. For some, they are greeted by a ghostly voice while floating in darkness. Others might find themselves in a landscape impossible to describe.
I didn't end up in a pitch-black void or a kaleidoscopic world. Instead, I found myself standing in a line filled with other recently deceased souls. I could tell it wasn't Heaven because there were no angels flying overhead singing hymns or other songs. It also wasn't Hell because the ground wasn't scorched black with fire and brimstone.
The sky was cloudy gray with rumbling thunderstorms in the distance. A layer of fog curled around my legs and chained iron manacles were worn around my wrists and ankles. The only sounds that filled the air were muted groans, loud sighs, and bell-like jingle of the chained manacles.
This was Limbo, the inter-between area that straddled the borders of Heaven and Hell.
I wasn't too surprised that I was here. I hadn't been too pious to go to Heaven and I hadn't committed enough grievous sins to be dumped into Hell. I lived a normal life and died in a normal way. Nothing too crazy.
The line to wherever it led to was like any other shopping line - excruciatingly slow and boring. You take a step forward, wait a few more minutes, and repeat. I don't know how long I was in the line, but I did notice a few things as I inched closer to the front.
Standing on a wooden pedestal was Death itself. Garbed in a tattered black robe, he held two items in either of his skeletal hands. A leather-bound book was held aloft on his left and a golden rod with a circular pommel in his right. His signature scythe was nowhere to be found.
Every time a soul appeared in front of him, he would stare at the book before turning his head at the poor figure, raising the rod into the air and swinging it at the soul's head. The moment the rod made contact, there was a loud pop followed by a flash of white light. After a few seconds, the next soul approached him and the cycle repeated.
No one attempted to beg or plead Death, which I found weird. Maybe it was because he wasn't swinging his scythe that no one complained. It was probably less terrifying or more acceptable to be smacked in the head than to be shredded in half.
Regardless of my thoughts, it was my turn to face the reaper. The empty dark eye sockets glanced at the book for a few seconds before staring at me. It happened so quickly that I never felt the blow. Instead, I was blinded and wracked with an intense coughing fit.
Moments passed and the coughing fit subsided quickly as I came to my senses. The dreary overcast sky and misty fog were with bright orange walls and tacky retro-like decorations. I was seated in front of an elegant Victorian-fashioned desk made from mahogany wood. A pile of paper was stacked neatly on one side of the table, while a black rotary dial telephone and a chipped coffee mug filled with pens and pencils sat on the right side of the table.
A wooden name plaque with bronze lettering was displayed prominently in front of me, and I nearly screamed when I realized who I was seating in front of.
The man behind the desk wore an olive business suit jacket over his crisp white shirt and a checkered tie. His brown eyes shined with eagerness as he extended his hand to shake mine and he grinned at me like a madman.
"Hey there, kid! I'm Cave Johnson and I own this office."
I shook his hand, dumbfounded that I was his presence.
"Am I working for Aperture Sciences, sir?"
The legendary CEO laughed loudly at me and quickly stifle his laughter. "Nah, kid. Aperture doesn't exist in this place," he wiped away tears from his eyes with a handkerchief, "You have been selected to work as a contractor for the Company."
"What company? Does it have a name?"
Cave placed his handkerchief inside his suit and steepled his fingers together. His warm joking persona was replaced by a cold, stoic businessman-like tone as he explained to me everything about my new job.
For those that don't know, the Company was essentially a multiversal organization that specialized in researching and developing new products that seemed like paradise. Their flagship product was the Waifu Catalog, a brochure-like item that allowed one to live their new life like a video game: travel to new worlds, get power ups while earning credits and getting wives across the multiverse.
I had been selected to participate as beta-tester for their prototype programs. Even though the Waifu Catalog is the Company's popular product, there's always a chance that it will be forgotten. Hence, the creation of new and untested products.
Cave reached for something underneath his desk and handed me a list of products I was testing.
The Deck of the Fallen, a modified tarot deck containing twenty-five cards. Instead of the typical tarot characters, these cards contained the souls of randomly chosen deceased characters.
The Selenar Test, a modified personality test based on the primarchs. Depending on the results, something may happen to the examinee.
Pangea Morir, an Earth-like planet with three supercontinents modelled after Pangea and filled some kind of horror.
Strange Supermarket, a supermarket containing exotic meats, vegetables and etc. Consuming, drinking or using products may lead to interesting effects.
The only questions remaining were whether I agreed to test it and what my new name was. The first question was answered with an obvious yes. The second took a little bit longer to answer.
"Becker Shawzin" I grinned at him confidently. Cave's eyebrows furrowed as he wrote down my new name.
"Right, now your perks," he murmured and handed me another brochure to look at. "You get five perks. No more, no less."
Ten minutes later, I had chosen my perks and handed the brochure back to him. The perks I had chosen would aid me in a long way.
"Not bad, not bad at all," he replied. The old rotary-dial telephone rang and he turned away from me to answer it. Despite being so close to him, I couldn't hear him talking on the telephone. His expressions shifted wildly in an animated manner. One moment, he seemed happy. In another second, he was furious and shouting loudly.
A few minutes later, I could hear him again after he ended the call. "Sorry about that," he adjusted his tie, "The man upstairs wanted to talk to me about your choices. This packet is for your companion. She will know what to do with it." He grabbed a small yellow packet from his desk and I stuffed it into my pocket.
He glanced at my sheet briefly before gathering the paperwork and shoving it into a manila folder, "Congrats, kid. Any last words?"
"Live well, fight well, and die well." I grinned at him. The man laughed loudly, wiping away tears from the corner of his eyes. He must have pressed a button somewhere on the desk because the floor underneath my seat collapsed and I fell face-first through a swirling white portal.
Layers of dust and pebbles covered my face when I fell through it. A loud boom echoed behind me as I scrambled to my feet. The acrid smell of smoke, the crackling roar of fires and the streets littered with debris and dead bodies overwhelmed my senses. I had landed in the middle of a warzone, and I ran to the closest alleyway. I wasn't surprised to see my health bar dropping as I stumbled through the alleyway. The temperature was in the low thirties and it was starting to snow. I ran through the alleyway, peering through broken glass windows and open doors in my stride.
Occasionally, I stopped to examine the corpses that littered the ground.
Two symbols stood out to me. A crudely drawn double helix on a tattered orange armband and an aquila-like symbol with a star in its chest. That and the animal-like characteristics I saw on all the corpses confirmed my suspicion of where I was. When and which conflict was a different question.
At the end of the alleyway was a door marked with my new name.
There was no doubt the Company left something for me here. Cautiously, I knocked on the door. I heard a 'click' and the door swung to reveal my companion scowling at me. I would have been fine with anyone, but I was really disappointed when I recognized her.
She was a young woman with long white, braided fluff-like hair and golden-amber eyes. She was dressed in aristocrat-like clothing - a long black coat jacket with yellow accents embroidered with golden symbols, red stockings, and black heels. A bright ruby inlaid in gold sat on top of her lace jabot collar.
"About time you got here" she grumbled at me. I side-stepped past her and shut the door behind me. I was standing inside a Victorian-style living room. A grandfather clock stood next to a cold fireplace and a TV hung above the mantelpiece. A pair of L-shaped leather sofas faced each other, and a small rectangular coffee table sat between them on a brown bearskin rug. Behind the sofa was a staircase leading up to the second floor. It appeared to be empty, and I locked the door behind me. I looked around the living room, looking for something to wear or use. After a few minutes of rooting around, I came across a wooden chest box and I kicked it open. Inside were several pieces of clothing, a deck holder containing the deck, and a small rectangular silver chip. A notecard at the bottom of the second chest that instructed me to insert the chip into the back of my head when I was ready.
"By the way, what's your name?" I rummaged through the kitchen's fridge for a drink.
"Olga Marie Animusphere," she answered arrogantly.
Of all people, it had to be her. Arrogant, bossy and a know-it-all at first glance, but all she wanted was some recognition and she craved for it. That flaw, combined with the inability to be a Master and the daunting responsibility as Director of Chaldea, led to her pitiful death. I pulled the packet out of my pocket and tossed it to her. She grabbed it midair and unwrapped it.
"What is this?"
"I don't know. It's for you," I grabbed the clothes and walked upstairs.
I peeked inside the rooms and felt relieved that there was no one else here except me and Olga. Stepping into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and was thankful that hot water was still running. After minutes of lounging in the bathtub, I stepped out feeling refreshed and eager.
The clothing I wore felt appropriate for the freezing cold. Dark gray, double breasted overcoat with a blue lambswool scarf around my neck. A white undershirt covered by a baby-blue dress shirt and a black silk blazer. Finally, a pair of gray trousers, dark brown leather brogues, black leather gloves and a light gray flat cap completed my attire.
The gloves felt comfortable as I slipped them on. As I came downstairs, I saw Olga kneeling on the living room floor, white chalk in hand. The familiar summoning circle used for the Holy Grail War covered a good portion of the room. In the center of the circle was a small golden rectangular pendant with a red rose emblem.
Olga glanced at me as I settled on the sofa near her. Despite her arrogance earlier, it was replaced with uncertainty and nervousness. Her eyes darted all over, her hands shook and a dark grimace settled on her face.
I wasn't sure what to say to her. I wasn't much of a talker in the past and I never bothered making friends. But I might as well try.
"Do you want some coffee?" I offered. She looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed with stress. She looked like she wanted to say something spiteful, but she sighed heavily and collapsed on the sofa next to me. Taking her sigh as a 'yes', I walked over to the kitchen, grabbed two coffee mugs from the cupboard and started the coffee machine. Meanwhile, I made some small talk with Olga.
"It's been awhile since I saw a Servant summoning ritual," I said.
"You know about the ritual?"
"Yeah. I know enough about it and the Holy Grail War," I scooped out two sugar cubes from a container, dropped them into our mugs and poured the creamer.
Olga narrowed her eyes on me. "Are you a mage?"
I laughed at her, "Hell no. I know a guy who told me everything about the Holy Grail War."
Olga huffed loudly and crossed her arms as I placed the mugs on the coffee table, "He must be extremely lucky, considering he wasn't caught by the enforcers."
If only you knew the truth, Olga. I nodded and sipped my coffee contentedly. After a few minutes of silence, she asked me if I knew what was going on.
"Well, we are in the middle of a warzone between several factions." I grabbed a legal notepad that I found inside the coffee table's drawer and began drawing some symbols.
"Reunion invaded Chernobog to cause chaos and to destroy the city itself. Meanwhile, the Ursus Army is trying to defend the city and Rhodes Island is trying to evacuate a VIP out of Chernobog."
As I explained the situation, I pointed to each faction's symbol so she could identify them later.
"But why are they doing this?"
One lengthy explanation about Originium, Oripathy and Terra's society answered her question and she placed her empty mug on the table.
"Thank you for everything," she said stiffly, her eyes looking downward. Whether that was a sign of her blushing or not, I had no idea. I lightly patted her shoulder and stood up.
"Don't worry, you got this." I grinned at her. "I will be upstairs if you need me"
Once I was upstairs, I chose a random room, locked the door behind me and crawled into the bed. I could feel the ritual's effect from my room. A rumbling noise that slowly intensified, the house trembling around me and the air that had become thinner. A heavy weight pressed against my chest like a heavy barbell and I could barely breathe. A muted 'boom' and a sudden rush of air that broke the door open signaled the ritual's end. I gasped as the heavy pressure disappeared and quickly rushed downstairs. Smoke obscured my vision and I could hear Olga wheezing for air.
She had collapsed to the ground on all fours and I gently pulled her to her feet. On the back of her right hand was a crimson tattoo of a rose entwined in thorny vines. A ring of musical notes surrounded the rose.
By now, the smoke had receded to reveal Olga's servant. She looked more like a cosplayer than a famous warrior. Long strands of light pink hair with a red underside framed her face. A flowing crimson dress with a black bodice covered her chest, while black stockings and shearling-lined boots covered her thighs and feet. The most prominent item was the golden crown of thorns that rested on her head. A rose sat on its right side and a golden disk dangled from it.
Shimmering cyan gazed at us and stepped toward us, her boots clicking loudly on the scorched floor. She took four steps and kneeled in front of Olga.
"I am Servant Foreigner. A pleasure to meet you, Master."
"... Ehhhhhhhh?!"