The day began in an utterly miserable way. A ray of sunlight, piercing through the thin curtain of my windows, hit me straight in the eyes. A ray. Of sunlight. Wait, what? The alarm clock? Damn it, I overslept! I practically jumped out of bed—I was late! How could this happen? Oversleeping on the day of the exam? A quick glance at the clock confirmed that, theoretically, I could still make it. But breakfast? Forget it. I felt awful; my soul was heavy. Sure, I knew my theoretical mechanics well enough, but the professor—ugh. Let's just say we weren't exactly on good terms. The old bastard had already promised me three retakes and a fast-track to the military draft board. He even said so outright. My so-called best friend, David, had clapped me on the shoulder then: "Mark, construction battalion—sounds cool!" Oh, sure... The price of a spoiled grade record—a birthday in a military cap.
I gloomily brushed my teeth. Bastards. All of them. I hate this. My girlfriend dumped me; I'm probably about to fail school, and I've got no money—nor is any expected. My dad had made it clear before I enrolled: "Son, either you pay your way or you serve." So now, even if I wanted to bribe that old scumbag, as he not-so-subtly suggested to the entire class, I wouldn't be able to. And Dad definitely wouldn't cough up money for bribery. That's why things between me and the bastard went south after I voiced my opinion on the department's habit of solving issues through envelopes of cash. Foolish? Maybe. But now, Mark, figure it out—you're not living in a fairy tale.
Speaking of fairy tales... Everything's so neat and fun in those Japanese cartoons I got hooked on about a year ago. But here? Life's harsh, and no big-eyed, multicolored-haired girls are wandering around. What a shame. I get it; every culture's got its quirks. I got dressed, packed my bag, grabbed my student ID and grade book, and rushed out. Slamming the door of my tiny rented hovel, I sprinted toward the elevator, skipping steps two at a time.
My idea of "having problems" was about to change drastically. I didn't have problems. No, seriously, my troubles were just minor inconveniences. Because now, I had a real problem, one I couldn't solve. That's what I was thinking when, with a horrible screech, the elevator stopped, froze for a moment, and then, under the sound of snapping cables, began its terrifying plunge. I barely had time to realize I'd met the Grim Reaper before a strong impact hit. Darkness. Oddly, there was no pain. My consciousness remained intact. But my body? Gone. And then I heard a voice. Actually, calling it a "voice" would be an understatement. It was The Voice. Yes, capitalized. It didn't speak so much as proclaim, and its proclamations chilled me to my nonexistent bones.
"Well, well. What do we have here? A soul? No, more like a soul-fragment." The Voice chuckled. "How did you even get here, you poor thing? Don't just sit there; speak up. I promise I won't eat you… right away."
"I..." I tried to reply, but my throat (what throat? I didn't have one anymore!) seized up.
"Do you even understand what's happening?" my otherworldly interlocutor asked, clearly smirking.
"The elevator fell," I muttered, still disoriented.
"Forget the elevator, pal. That life's over. The train's left the station." Somewhere in the void, the being grinned.
"Excuse me, but who are you? And, um, where am I?"
"Me? Think of me as a senior entity; that's close enough. And don't start groveling or singing praises—I'm not a god. Gods, as your primitive world imagines them, don't exist. Anyway, I'm an entity responsible for interworld mechanisms. And you, my friend, are in the primordial void. Where entities like me reside. Got it? No? Figures."
"Okay…" I stammered, "What happens now?"
"Good question! You didn't just die—you managed to bypass the standard reincarnation mechanisms. And now I've got you on my hands. Any bright ideas about what I should do with you?"
"Uh... could I go back?" I ventured hesitantly.
"Back? To that pile of meat your body's become? Nope. Not happening. Even I can't stuff your soul into an inanimate object."
"My body… is just an object?"
"Your corpse is an object," the Voice stated matter-of-factly. Great.
"Not cool," I grumbled.
"Anyway, let me take a closer look at you." Pages of my life flashed before my eyes: Mom, Dad, Grandma... School... First love. First kiss. First slap. College. The elevator.
"Hm," the entity muttered. "No major sins on record. Nothing to punish you for. First incarnation, too. No inherited karmic junk."
"First?" I asked, confused.
"Yup, you're a newbie. Fresh soul. If you'd died as a baby, you'd have zipped straight to the upper worlds—there's a loophole in the system no one's patched in billions of years. But alas. You managed to accumulate a few small stains, so no dice there. Reincarnating you in your old world is out; you're off the ledger there. Should I just… delete you?"
"Please, no!" I begged. "Isn't there any alternative?"
"Oh, there's always an alternative. Tell you what, I'll give you a new life. You wanted magic, right? I'll make it happen. But there's a catch."
"What catch?" I asked nervously.
"Don't sweat it. All I need is for you to live your life. I'll even give you a head start. Think of it as an experiment to cure my boredom. Sound fair?"
The Voice continued: "Alright, let's pick a world. How about one of your favorite animes? Remember 'Bible Black'? I could set you up there—third size, great figure, blonde hair... how about it? Lots of... interaction, guaranteed."
"WHAT?! No!" I recoiled, horrified.
"Relax, just kidding. Men's souls can't adapt to women's bodies. Interface mismatch, you know? Alright, let's see... How about 'Bleach'? I'll drop you in Hueco Mundo. Wander around, eat or be eaten. No sex, though. At all. Ever." The bastard laughed.
"No? Fine. 'Evangelion'? Big robots, sexy girls. Build yourself a harem. How about that?"
"Uh, magic…" I managed.
"Oh, right, you wanted magic. Hmm, how about Fairy Tail? No, can't do. Issues with the local overseer. Aha! I've got it. Magic, male body, age six. Perfect."
"Wait, six?!"
"Yeah, any older, and you'd fry your brain digesting foreign memories. I found a kid with a strong magical talent who's about to die. I'll swap your soul for his, give him a karma boost, and you'll take his place. Cool?"
"And the catch?"
"Catch? Survive. Figure it out. Welcome to your fairy tale, Mark."
Before I could argue, a br
ight green flash blinded me. A whisper followed: "Good luck, dead man!"