If death is supposed to be peaceful, someone forgot to send me the memo.

  Instead of pearly gates or a fiery pit, I found myself standing in a void so white it hurt my eyes. And standing in front of me was a woman—glowing, floating, and looking down her nose at me with that specific brand of arrogance I usually reserve for my junior executives.

  "So, you are that mortal," the goddess began, her voice echoing like a surround-sound system with the bass turned up too high.

  "Maybe I’m immortal now," I interrupted, checking my suit for imaginary dust. I looked up at her, unimpressed. "I mean, I’m clearly not in Kansas anymore, and you’re glowing like a radioactive lightbulb. Logic suggests an upgrade."

  Her eye twitched. "I think I did not give you any permission to speak."

  "I have freedom of speech," I shot back immediately. "I can say anything I want. It’s a fundamental right. Look it up."

  "I—" she started, looking baffled.

  "In fact," I interrupted again (yes, again, because fuck her entitlement), "if you try to censor me, I will sue. Or whatever the afterlife equivalent is."

  "This is not Earth!" she snapped, her composure cracking. "So, you don't have that! There is no constitution here! Now, I want to talk to you about som—"

  "I will revolt," I declared, raising a fist in mock solidarity. "I will organize a union for the people of the God Realm. We will march for freedom, for dental plans, for the right to not listen to pompous glowing ladies!"

  "Will you shut the fuck up for a moment!"

  The goddess actually screamed. It wasn't a divine decree; it was a rage-squeak. Her glow turned a violent shade of red. "I have a very serious matter to discuss!"

  I shrugged, crossing my arms. "Alright, alright. Go on. What is it? Spit it out before you have an aneurysm."

  She took a deep, stabilizing breath, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this meeting. "So," she gritted out, "you are summoned here so that I can reincarnate you to the world of Xeria. You are to become a hero. Your destiny is to defeat the Demon King that is going to be resurrected in five hundred Xerian years."

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Any questions?" she asked, though her tone suggested that if I asked one, she might smite me.

  "Yeah, wh—"

  "Good, moving on!" she bulldozed right over me, ignoring my open mouth. "That world is a world of magic and cultivation. It is a place where the strongest survives longer. You have to get the other details by yourself. I’m not a tour guide. You should go now and let me have some peace."

  She waved her hand dismissively, like she was shooing away a fly.

  "Wait," I barked, stepping forward. "At least tell me your name. And are you going to help me or not? You can't just drop me in a magic jungle and say 'good luck, idiot'."

  "My name is Talestia," she said, drawing herself up to her full, imperious height. "I am the Goddess of Reincarnation and Wisdom."

  Wisdom? Debatable, I thought.

  "And yes," Talestia continued, "I will help you. But I cannot descend to the mortal plane myself. It’s against the laws. So, I will incarnate a vessel." She paused, looking at me with a strange expression. "But be warned. There are no chances that she will be like me in personality. She can be different. She could even be evil, depending on how she is raised."

  Phew. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. At least she won't be like this dumbass. Relieved.

  "Now, it's time to move," she announced, her voice leaving no room for argument.

  She raised a perfectly manicured hand in my direction. Instantly, the floor beneath my Italian leather shoes began to glow. A complex, luminescent geometric pattern flared into existence—a magic circle, exactly the kind you see in B-grade fantasy movies.

  Staring at her as the light intensified, I couldn't help but think that despite the divine aura, she really is just some kind of bitch—Mhmhm, (clears throat)—witch, I mean. I definitely meant witch. Freudian slip? Maybe. Truth? Absolutely.

  Then, the world dissolved into blinding white.

  So, that is how it happened. That is how I, a titan of industry, was unceremoniously reincarnated.

  If you have stuck with this shit show this far, then do me a favor. Can someone please tell me why I can't stand up? Why do my legs feel like jelly? And more importantly, why am I lying stark naked on this fucking bed?

  I tried to lift my hand to check my face, but the limb that rose into my field of vision was wrong. It was tiny. Pathetic. About as small as an ant.

  (Alright, an ant is an exaggeration. Let's make it a mouse. A hairless, chubby mouse.)

  The horror dawned on me slowly, crashing down with the weight of a collapsing stock market. I wasn't just transported; I was rebooted. I got reincarnated as a baby. A drooling, helpless, tiny human.

  I tried to assess my surroundings, but my neck muscles were non-existent. I’ll tell you where I am and what I am when I figure it out myself. Currently, my intel is limited to the ceiling texture.

  And then, the ultimate indignity occurred. A warm, spreading sensation engulfed my lower half.

  (Ah, shit! I wet my blanket and bed. Somebody help me!)

  I tried to scream, to demand immediate hygiene services, but all that came out was a pathetic gurgle. This is a nightmare. OK, bye, see you in the next episode.

  (At least wash my stick and ass, dammit!)

  I strained my ears, listening for a maid, a butler, or this "vessel" the goddess mentioned. Silence. Just the soft rhythm of breathing nearby.

  Huh. I guess the only person here is sleeping.

  Great. Just great. I have to stay we

  t for sometime. Welcome to my new life.