There was nothing.
Then there was something.
It wasn't as simple as a light at the end of a tunnel. It was energy and life force itself: grander and more beautiful and more impossible to describe than the lengthiest of scriptures.
I wasn't certain on what exactly I was supposed to do, so I grappled with the energy. It was all I could do, even if it felt entirely like the wrong thing. The energy just threw me back into darkness and nothing.
When there was something again, I didn't dare fight. I let the energy do it's thing, enfolding me in a kind of power that made me feel like I'd been nothing but a Capsule myself.
As the light and life and energy became me, I woke at last, and lived again.
I was in a room. The walls were decrepit, masonry full of cracks which were pouring with lichen and moss. There was fungi covering some parts of the floor and almost all of the ceiling, dripping diluted cave-water right onto my forehead.
I blinked and took a deep breath, expecting to recoil from pain, soreness, or maybe even the smell of rotting plants, but no such reactions came. Carefully, I guarded my mind, drew myself up, and gave myself a nice long once-over.
I was red, my skin coated in what I knew must've been the remains of the Mikami Church and my own dead flesh. My body itself though was back to normal, maybe even better than normal.
I scooted up against the wall, bracing myself to stand, and walked around the room. There was an old iron door rusted shut in the corner, and in it I could see my reflection at last.
If I looked through the gore I could see the usual: long black messy hair thrown into a ponytail, a lean-muscled runner's frame, and a thin face. My eyes though, which had previously been a pale green, were a scarlet red. And my sclera were deathly black.
I looked a little gaunter than usual, skin a glowing porcelain color that made all of my hard work of getting a tan pointless. I looked like some hybrid between human and skeleton, but I supposed, as long as my eyes were concealed, it wouldn't be hard to find my way back into peaceful society.
I smiled cheekily at myself in the rust-mirror, and had to catch myself. Carefully, I pried open my mouth. I hadn't been seeing things. I had fuckin' fangs!
I slid a palm over my face. What had that damn Hierophant done to me?
Now that I'd found another difference, I searched myself more thoroughly and my hate for those murdering church-goers multiplied with every little modification.
My ears were slightly pointy now, and imbedded with stone earrings: a ruby crystal stud on each, and a third black piercing in the upper lobe of my right ear. My hair wasn't as staticky as it used to be. My skin didn't feel the tiniest bit dry. And—I almost threw up at this one—I was sexless!
Fucking hell! Motherfucker! What the holy fucking shit was I?
I breathed, and calmed. There was another slight change. I knew if I'd lost my dick previously I would've probably wanted to die, but that solution was out of reach since I was already dead. And how did I know?
Well what, other than dying, could be so painful while also being boring at the same time? Maybe school, but I hadn't the money or magic to go.
Deciding I'd rage later, I started to assess the iron door. It was just an old door really, rusted at the hinges and without any sort of handle or keyhole. It was more of an iron chunk of wall basically, useless.
I huffed and reminded myself that boredom was what I detested most. I'd rather do something than nothing at all, even if it was something only a dumbass would do.
I tensed the muscles along my shoulder, squeezed my eyes shut, and barreled into the door. A cloud of rust-dust filled the air and the metal shook. I scrunched my brow. Why hadn't I felt any pain?
Oh yeah, I was dead...weird. Also, awesome! I grinned fanatically and rammed into the door again and again and again and again and again.
I coughed up rusty spit. Huh, couldn't taste either then. That was less awesome, but I suppose it could come in handy. You know, for all those times I actually bit dust.
Giving up, for now, on the door ramming, I spat out the rest of the metal from my mouth and went to work on thinking. Because thinking didn't count as doing nothing. I remembered how I'd felt coming back into existence, like I'd gained something I'd never had before.
But what the hell was it?
Whatever, what I needed was like really hot flames and really cold water. If I could rapidly cool the iron, it'd crumble to pieces.
I must've been thinking a tad too deeply because a second later my left hand held a scorching blue flame with a brilliant white core. Great, now I was hallucinating. I wondered if I could die a second time. If I could, I hoped it certainly wouldn't be something as pathetic as not being able to open a door.
Ouch! Fucking hell, my hand was on fire...my hand was on fire! It wasn't a hallucination after all! I knew what I'd gained now.
Magic.
Heck yeah! I was going down in history as the man who opened a door[1].
[1] Reference to Ever After