When I awoke, I found myself gazing into a twelve-foot mirror. Its white rectangular frame was decorated with a vintage floral pattern, though despite how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to touch it.
The next thing I noticed was the lack of pain in my arm where I'd been shot. Then I saw that I still had my wings, but the rest of my body was terrifyingly generic, without any distinctive features. Hell, I didn't even have a face.
'Welcome to Everblade, please tell me your race.' The woman's voice seemed to echo all around me.
'Human.' I reply quickly.
'Humanoid.' She corrected.
'What is your age?'
I suppose you're going to decide that for me too.
'Eighteen.' I answer hesitantly.
'What is your gender?'
So far, so good. 'Male.'
'What is your profession?'
I don't have one.
'What is your profession?'
