A faint cough was heard between the rubbles of a ruined building. Smoke rose to the sky, and a croak, barely audible against the sound of chaos, came from the parch lips of a young woman on the brink of death.
She tried to make her hand move and scream a last cry of help, hoping this wasn't how things would end up for her.
But she choked on her blood, failing to voice out the desperate pleas, weakly fighting for release.
Slowly, her consciousness faded, and her outstretched hand fell to the ground, unnoticed.
–
Death was supposed to be peaceful.
At least according to what the books had foretold.
I mean, your life ended.
All the things you worried about, the illnesses you obtained, and any physical deformities you have would be—poof!
Gone.
In an instant, you can just have a perfect, peaceful moment.
Supposedly.
Some writers described death as a way of life, a regular occurrence for every individual born into existence.
No single soul would be spared if death knocked on one's door.
You could die rich, young, happy, or neither of the mentioned.
If you die poor, old, and unhappy, death wouldn't be bothered by your circumstances.
It had done its job.
In death's eyes, no matter who you are or whatever status you have, it doesn't matter. We are all equal before it.
I didn't plan on dying early.
I'm only 25, just starting my life, and was living in my parent's old home in Kashjai.
There were only four places you could be in our Universe. Tollista, Oryon, Harrith, and Kashjai.
Tollista was the capital before Bronn, the great leader who defeated Russo—a monster from another Universe, decided it was not prosperous enough. Hence, he moved the capital to Harrith.
But everyone knew that the real motive Bronn had was because of the women.
In Harrith, you will find the most beautiful women that no other Universes could offer. I'm telling you, Harrith women were to die for.
However, on the day of my death, I had this realization: Nothing mattered the most but what you do with your life while you still have it. During that last thirty or maybe ten seconds, the blood sputtered out of my lips, and I fell to the ground, dead when this truth struck me.
So, you must wonder how I ended up floating in the in-between. Here was why.
Before my existence was compromised, I just had that ordinary day: I woke up, got to work, went home, and then slept. The lack of social life made my days tolerable and sometimes lonely.
But did I want to hang out with other humans? Maybe. Unless they were some toxic, arrogant male specie like me, then, no thank you.
Call me an introvert because that's what I am, but I could also be chatty if I vibed with the right people. Truth be told? I value honesty and prefer people to be straightforward about their feelings and what they want from me.
My parents thought I had an abnormality. But doctors convinced them that it was normal.
If you met me, I would let you be the judge of that. However, that's no longer possible.
In looks, I'm somewhere between the nerd everyone would want to avoid and the jock everyone wants to befriend. When it comes to IQ, I do read books. So, I count myself as a decent human being, at least.
A decent human being who got killed in his home.
That didn't sound so cool. I know.
Could you imagine getting slaughtered at the comfort of your place? No? Trust me when I say it felt awful.
Regret, anger, and an ounce of annoyance because you could no longer rewind what happened and make better choices to avoid dying will gnaw on you.
So now, I'm stuck in the in-between—a place where the souls of those who died lingered until they were ready to stand before the Divine.
Contrary to the common belief of standing before the Divine soon after you perish, there was a waiting period.
According to the ancient scrolls taught to us when we were children, all the souls that have died will be sorted according to their deeds when they were still alive.
Hence, a soul must wait for judgment.
You can either enter Nirvana or live in a lesser paradise.
I have no known facts about the lesser paradise. But for Nirvana, let's just say it was comparable to a grand castle, the grandest one could imagine.
However, if you did so many outrageous things and constantly chose to do it despite knowing it was wrong, you will forever live in the in-between, floating in the darkness with nothing and no one.
As I've mentioned, I was at least decent, so my chances of entering Nirvana were high.
Even so, I prefer to live than die.
Oddly enough, after that thought left me, a warm sensation began to spread from the pit of my stomach to my chest.
I only saw a bright light within me before I re-opened my eyes and found myself standing on a wide white platform. Surrounding the said platform were giant puffs of clouds. A single golden seat could be found in the middle.
"Uh," I cleared my throat, double-checking if I was adequately dressed for whatever the occasion. This must be the part where I meet one of the Divine's right hands.
Before one could stand in front of The Divine, they would face one of the trusted assistants.
"Eh?!!" I expressed, my eyes close to bulging out from their sockets. My fingers slowly ran along the satin fabric of the apparel I had on.
The dominant color of the clothing was the same as the clouds. White like snow. On its side, gold lining added to its aesthetics.
"What the hell is this?"
"Proper clothing," a loud voice boomed, shaking the skies with its thunderous tone that had me gulping and wishing I didn't say that aloud.
The once empty seat had found its missing occupant.
A man, probably no older than thirty, with brown curly hair and eccentric blue eyes, looked at me with a stoic expression. His manner of dressing was similar to what I had—a blazer and tunic.
But comparable to me, the guy had muscles while all I could boast was my flat stomach.
"Welcome to the passage to Nirvana, Elijah. As you are aware, you are already dead. But the Heaven's heard your pleas."
I blinked. It took me a while to process what I had just heard.
"What?"
The Divine's right hand clicked his tongue.
"Forgive me, I forgot how your thought process had remained the same." He cleared his throat, clearly insulting me. "To make things simple, Elijah, you will be reborn and live another life."
"What?" I repeated, my chest feeling tight all over again. "Am I being rejected from entering Nirvana?"
"No, no." The man snickered before clearing his throat. "Perhaps I should clarify."
I balled my hands into fists, feeling anxious, mad, and confused with every passing minute.
"You, Elijah Iveya, because of the goodness of your heart when you were alive, became one of Nirvana's favorites. In short, you are not being rejected. Rather, you are being upgraded."