My new life began in much the same way my old one ended. I was lying in the middle of the road, having just been struck by a vehicle – except this time the vehicle in question was a shabby old fruit cart, being pulled slowly along by an ancient-looking donkey and its equally geriatric owner.

  I propped myself up on one elbow. It was hard to believe I was even alive after what happened. A sixteen-wheeler had barreled through a red light, straight into the crosswalk, and sent me flying across the asphalt. There was a moment of pain, and then…

  Well, and then I was here, somehow.

  I would’ve spent more time pondering the circumstances of my arrival, but the fruit cart was still pushing painfully into my ribs. And neither man nor donkey showed any signs of stopping.

  “Git outta the way, kid! Reborn or not, ya can’t just lay about in the middle of the road like some kinda idiot!” the old man yelled, urging his donkey forward.

  “Wh-what? Reborn?” I stammered. But the old man didn’t pay me any attention. The cart’s wheel rolled over my chest, crushing all the air out of my lungs. There was another bump as the cart’s rear wheel struck me in the ribs.

  “Ow, stop! You hit me!” I wheezed, but the cart didn’t stop. The rear wheel was caught against my side, and slowly but surely, it was dragging me along the rough cobblestone road.

  I planted my feet and managed to squirm myself out from underneath. I was ready to give the fruit vendor a piece of my mind, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. He and his donkey trudged heedlessly along, leaving me in their dust as the victim of the world’s slowest hit-and-run.

  I rubbed my battered ribs and took a quick look around. For the most part, the place seemed just how I would’ve imagined a street from some fantasy town: narrow and winding, lined on either side by thatched-roof buildings variously two or three stories tall. Some of the buildings leaned precariously over the road, and as I watched, a woman wrenched open a third-story window and dumped a mysterious liquid into the gutter below, narrowly missing the head of a passer-by. The road itself was bustling with activity, crowded with men and women lugging heavy wooden carts or carrying burlap sacks of grain across their shoulders.

  But some things were just off. For one, the doors were all fitted with modern-looking doorbells. Off in the distance I heard what sounded like a train whistle. And looking closely, one of the grain-toting ‘peasants’ was wearing white tennis shoes not unlike my own.

  Were they all from my world, too? If this was a kind of afterlife, I guess that made sense. More importantly, did everyone from my world end up here after they died? The thought shook me. Because if so, that would mean that she was here too. That I could see her again.

  “HEY!” came a yell from across the street.

  A few people in the crowd startled and looked around nervously, but it wasn’t hard to pinpoint where the racket was coming from. Emerging from one of the nearby buildings was perhaps the most conspicuous… woman?... that I had ever seen. She was easily seven feet tall and dressed like a barbarian, clad only in a leather chest wrap, waistcloth, and gladiatorial sandals, which did nothing to conceal the lilac skin of a creature that was most definitely not human. Never mind her horns, which were–

  “HEY, YOU!” she shouted again, leveling a finger vaguely in my direction. I tried to figure out which merchant had been unfortunate enough to peeve her off, but no one around me seemed especially concerned. The people closest to me were simply shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval.

  I turned back, only to meet the enormous woman’s ruby red stare. She was pushing her way through the packed street and was already halfway across. I shakily pointed to myself and adjusted my face into a confused but polite expression. “M-me?”

  “Yeah you!” she bellowed, “Get over here!” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  My insides turned to soup. “Uhhh… sorry, but I’m gonna… uh…”

  I turned on my heel and dashed into the crowd, hoping desperately to find a guard or a policeman or something, anything, to protect me from this… Ogre, or whatever she was, who apparently had taken an interest in me.

  “GET BACK HERE!” she shouted, as I swerved behind a gaggle of shoppers and ducked into a side street. My heart was racing, half from fear and half because I admittedly wasn’t in the best shape. I had barely sprinted two blocks and my lungs already felt like they were on fire. I’d been swearing up and down for months that I’d finally get my act together, but I never actually bothered to get into a proper exercise routine. Now I was getting chased by some horrible creature and had approximately zero chance of outrunning her.

  I sprinted to the end of the side-street and turned the corner into a small plaza. Maybe a dozen people were milling about, a few of them working together to prop up a festive-looking booth. There weren’t nearly enough people for me to try to disappear into the crowd.

  But beside the booth there was a large wooden cart stacked high with hay.

  I dove in. The hay was itchy and prickly, and being covered in the stuff was, overall, not a very pleasant experience. A few seconds passed before, through gaps in the hay, I watched the monstrous woman charge around the bend. She scanned the plaza, cursed, then took off past my hiding spot, scowling all the way.

  What could she possibly want with me? And why wasn’t anyone stopping her from chasing me down? Maybe Monsters were just allowed to eat people in broad daylight here. Or maybe everyone around had already decided I was a lost cause.

  All I knew was that I wanted as much distance as possible between her and me. Luckily, I could just lie back in my hay-pile and let her do the running. Other than how itchy it was making me, and how my eyes were watering, and the way it was poking every exposed inch of my body, the hay wasn’t all that bad. I figured I could wait in here for hours, if I needed to.

  Seconds later, a gauntleted hand invaded my little burrow and grabbed me by the shirt collar. I was wrenched bodily to the ground – deposited at the feet of a hulking, plate-clad figure. Whoever he was, he had an air of authority about him. “What’s going on over here? Taking a nap in the community hay cart?” a deep voice rang out from behind the figure’s metal helmet. There was an accusatory edge to his tone that made me feel strangely defensive.

  “Wha- I’m not napping! I was just run over by a truck! And then… by a fruit cart! And then a giant… lady, I guess, but she was a Monster or something? She was chasing me, and–”

  “Hold on. A Monster was chasing you? Today, the day of the Unification Festival?” He shook his head. “Disgusting, but I’m not surprised. They never should have been allowed inside the city. Vicious creatures, every one of them. You never know when they’ll snap.”

  I could practically feel him scanning me up and down through the gleaming helmet that encased his face. “You look like you’re from back home. You’ve just arrived, haven't you?”

  From back home? So he was one of the Reborn, like me. He looked like a proper knight: all decked out in a suit of gleaming plate, topped with a magnificently plumed helm which didn’t reveal even a sliver of his face. His chest was decorated with an impressive tabard of pristine, flowing white silk. Just based on his fancy equipment, I figured this guy must have been bumping around in this world for quite some time now. And given that he’d wrenched me out of the hay with just a casual flick of his arm, he was obviously jacked underneath his armor.

  “Yeah, I am! At least… I’m definitely from somewhere that’s not, uh, here? I guess I don’t know where you’re from, and whether we're from the same place,” I said. I kept my face neutral, but inside I was dying from embarrassment. Getting Reborn hadn’t cured my lack of social prowess. I half expected the guy to heave me back into the itchy cart of hay.

  “But seeing as we’re both… Reborn, or whatever, do you want to join up?” I asked. “Like, form a party? Unless you’re in one already. Which I would totally understand.”

  A deep laugh resonated out of the man’s helm. “Hey, you’re a funny guy. Anyone ever tell you that before?” He nearly bowled me over with a hearty thump on the back. “Listen. Love the enthusiasm. But me and the boys, we’re just about ready to embark for the Queen’s Threshold.” Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he quickly added, “The Queen’s Threshold. The Dungeon.”

  “A Dungeon?” I asked. “Is that like–?”

  “So we’re leaving Zone One, and we won’t be coming back,” he continued, ignoring my attempted question. “But I’d be happy to show you the ropes before we go, give a fellow Reborn some of the information I wish I’d had when I first got here. You can even take some of the starter gear we don’t need anymore. Just keep what works for your Class and sell the rest.” He gave me a once-over and harrumphed. “A few silvers could do a newbie like you some good. Of course, it’d just be chump change for me or the boys. Not even worth bringing to the vendor.”

  There was more than a splinter of condescension in his tone… but you wouldn’t catch me turning down a free starter kit and a tutorial. I needed all the help I could get, if his mention of Dungeon-crawling was any indication.

  "Yeah, that would be great, man!” I cleared my throat and dropped my voice about an octave. “I mean… yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.”

  A muffled chuckle escaped the man’s helm once again. “Super. Come with me, then.” He gestured ahead of us and we started walking side-by-side across the plaza.

  “So, what Class are you?” I asked. What I really wanted to know was what Class I was. But that felt too embarrassing to ask. “And how does that work, anyway? Does everyone get auto-assigned a Class when they’re Reborn? And what if you want to change your Class? Can you, like, update–”

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  “Whoa, slow down there!” the man laughed. “First off, you’re not ‘auto-assigned’ anything. To start, if you haven’t yet – and based on your question, I guess you haven’t – you get to choose almost any Class you want. But it’s really more of an illusion…whoops, right this way,” he said, letting his voice trail off as he guided me away from the plaza and onto a gently winding side-street. Here the road was bordered on both sides by humble homes and single-story, somewhat dingy-looking storefronts.

  “Where was I? Oh, it’s more of an illusion of choice than anything. Like, if your Class doesn’t work with your starting stats, you’ll just be knee-capping yourself. For instance, I was a total gym rat in my past life, so when I got here, I went with the Fighter Class to capitalize on my strength. It was just the obvious choice.”

  A Fighter, boring but practical. But seeing the way people were making way for us on the street, it was clear this guy had won the townsfolk’s respect, exciting class or no.

  “Obviously, I’m not gonna stay a basic Fighter forever,” he continued. “In fact, right now I’m working on specializing as a War-Marshal. Should hit the requirements for it after we get past the Threshold,” he said, with a tinge of pride. I had no idea what a War-Marshal was, but I nodded and smiled politely and tried to look impressed. We traipsed past a cozy-looking tavern with a delightful little sign hanging over the door that read ‘The Rusty Mug’.

  “I was a corporate recruiter before I got here,” my companion continued. I could tell he was the kind of guy who liked the sound of his own voice. “My job was talking to people all day: negotiating with executives, cutting deals, stuff like that. But I was athletic, too. So I’m making myself into a charismatic martial fighter. Just an example for you of how one might play to their strengths.” He glanced at the tavern window and waved at a beautiful woman having a mid-day drink. She waved back and blushed.

  He was a corporate recruiter? That confirmed it, this guy had to have been from Earth. Or somewhere very much like it. “Gotcha. Choose a Class that fits your starting stats. Something based on what you were… before.” We walked a few more minutes before I mustered up the courage for a follow-up question. “So… sorry if this is too personal, but did you get here the same way I did? I mean, is everyone here–?”

  “Dead?” he interrupted. “No, only some people here are Reborn. Most people have been here their whole lives.” I swore I could feel him shooting me an irritated glance though his helm. “And just so you know, most Reborn don’t like to talk about what brought them here. It can be a sensitive subject.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “No problem. You’re new, you still gotta learn how things work around here.” I still sensed some irritation in his tone, but he seemed to have mostly forgiven me for asking about his death. “I’m Greg, by the way. I was from Ohio… before all this.”

  “I’m Roland,” I replied. “Did you say Ohio? That’s a crazy coincidence, because I’m actually from–”

  “And here we are!” Greg interrupted me again. He indicated the entrance to a dark and foreboding-looking alleyway. “Our hideout’s this way.”

  I almost stepped right into the alley, but something stopped me in my tracks. A prickle of fear ran up my spine. We were being watched.

  I tried peering down the alley… but there was no one there. I shifted uncomfortably on the balls of my feet as I remembered the hulking purple creature that had seemed so intent on chasing me down. “Are you sure this is safe? No offense or anything, just...”

  Greg seemed unconcerned. “Safe from what, Monsters? Or… what, from getting robbed? To be honest, there isn’t much petty crime to worry about in Zone One. Besides, this turf belongs to me and the boys. No one would dare mess with us here.”

  With that, he strolled confidently into the alley. I still felt uneasy, but I didn’t want Greg to think I was a coward. I took a deep breath and followed him in.

  “It’s a bit of a maze back here!” Greg called over his shoulder. “So be sure to stick close behind me. We have to go through the Old District, and it’s… ope! Almost missed that turn. We’re going left here– no, left, this way, now…”

  Mosying through the twisted alleyways between buildings, I was getting increasingly disoriented. The further we walked, the more rickety and ramshackle the buildings became, leaning so far forward that they blocked most of the sunlight and left the alley in a kind of perpetual twilight. Most unsettlingly, we hadn’t encountered a single other person wandering around back here. By the time we stopped in front of an ancient-looking door set in an equally ancient-looking wall, I was well and truly lost. If Greg left me here, I’d have no idea how to get back to the plaza we came from.

  CREAK

  There was the sound of a door opening – not the one we were staring at, but rather one behind us. I spun on my heel only to lock eyes with a viciously scarred woman. One side of her face looked like it had been burned off, along with one of her ears. Her hands were equally lopsided: one was empty, and the other held a naked dagger.

  “Uhh. Greg. Greg? I think we might have a problem,” I said.

  Greg drew his majestic longsword in response. I hoped it could fire energy beams or something because again, we were in a narrow alley. The woman’s dagger seemed like the more appropriate choice.

  “That's where you’re wrong, buddy,” Greg snarled, leveling the tip of his blade to my chest. It glinted malevolently in the dim light filtering in through the canopy of rooftops.

  “Oh.” Maybe it would have been better to have let that Monster kick my ass. At least there would’ve been witnesses. “H-hey, look man. I don’t have anything. I just got here like, an hour ago!”

  The burned woman plodded up beside me. “You sure ‘bout that fella? Why don’t you check those pockets a’ yours real quick-like?”

  When I died I had just been walking to the corner store. I’d only brought a fiver with me, not even my wallet or phone. I was virtually positive that my pockets were empty. I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey orders at swordpoint, though, so I dug into my front pocket.

  My fingers brushed against something that hadn’t been there before.

  “Oh?” I said, pulling free a small, jangling cloth bag.

  “Oh-ho! I’ll be taking that, Ronald!” said Greg with a smirk.

  “It’s Roland.” I muttered, still considering the light coin purse in my hand. I had never seen it before in my life and I certainly hadn’t put it in my pocket. It must have appeared there when I was Reborn.

  The burned woman leaned close and whispered gruffly into my ear, “That was your starter coin, dipshit. Now hand it over nice and easy, or else…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. The dagger pushing into the small of my back informed me of the consequences better than any words could have. I held out the coin-purse and watched lamely as Greg swiped it with his free hand.

  “Gonna count ‘em out?” the woman asked.

  “No need, Grace. He wasn’t here for even a minute before I found him. Poor sap didn’t even know what a Class was,” Greg said as he pocketed my money. He was talking as though I wasn’t even there, which was somehow even more humiliating than the robbery itself. “Why don’t you get his pants off, too?”

  My eyes went wide. “Oh, get your mind out of the gutter,” Greg said, rolling his eyes. “Denim is a hot commodity out here.” As I turned to face the burned woman, ready for my next in a long line of humiliations, the door next to us exploded off its hinges. The only sound that came from the burned woman was an “OOF” as, caught in the door’s path, she was flung against the opposite wall.

  I was faced with a frightening and familiar sight. It was the Monster woman from before, still seven feet tall, flowery lilac, and built like a brick house.

  Greg’s face went white. He immediately turned tail and ran down the winding alley, his plate armor clanging loudly all the way. I probably should have run away, too, but there was something mesmerizing about the scene unfolding before me. Or maybe I was just paralyzed with fear that, as if my first death today wasn’t enough, now I’d be ripped apart by an enormous Ogre woman.

  The curved horns which protruded from the woman’s forehead gleamed like ivory, parting waves of luscious black hair around her face. “Hey! Don’t forget your noodly little friend!” she yelled after Greg. Her voice boomed and rang through the narrow alley like a churchbell, powerful and gentle at the same time. The Monster hoisted the burned woman out from under the ruined door and lobbed her headlong down the alley, as though she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.

  The burned woman crashed into the ground some ten feet away. She staggered to her feet and limped off in the same direction as Greg, only pausing to curse at us before she caught up with him.

  The Monster woman clapped her hands and hooted after them until the pair of them disappeared around the corner.

  “Okay! Let’s try this again.” She pointed at me. “Hey! You! Yeah, you! So what should you say back, dude?” Her voice was no more kindly than when she was chasing me earlier, but for whatever reason I didn’t feel as nervous now. Maybe I’d just given in to my inevitable fate.

  “Uhh, h-hey there,” I stammered. “Are you going to… kill me now?”

  She crossed her arms and scowled. “That’s a rude thing to say to the person who just saved your bacon. Usually you’d start with, ‘Nice to meet you, my name’s whatever.’”

  “Sorry. Nice to meet you, my name’s Roland, okay? I’m just… I just got mugged, and like I appreciate getting to keep my pants, so thanks for that, but–”

  “I stopped you from getting mugged, you mean,” she corrected me.

  “Well, no, not really,”

  “What do you mean not really?” Her scowl deepened.

  “I mean those two took my money like five seconds before you chased them off!” She snapped her head in the direction Greg and Grace had scampered off.

  “They ran off with the money?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes!”

  “Fuck!” she screamed, stamping her foot.

  “Why are you so upset? I’m the one who got robbed!” I shouted. “Who even are you? Why were you chasing me earlier? What’s going on? I literally just died and… and… does everyone who dies come here? Maybe I can find–”

  The Monster woman held up her hands to stop me. “Yeeesh! Hold on, hold on! I don’t need, like, your life story dude. First off, I’ve got no idea which of you Humans end up here and which don’t.”

  Great. There were no answers forthcoming, not even from natural-born residents.

  “Second off, my name’s Aeshma. And I wasn’t like chasing you chasing you earlier, okay? I just wanted to see if we could, you know… party up! And I still do, too, even though you lost all your starter coin already, which is kind of lame to be honest.”

  She wanted me to join her party? Now that we were chatting, I guess this Monster woman seemed nice enough. But Greg had seemed nice enough, too, at the start, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge of character.

  On the other hand, it didn’t seem like I had anything to lose, beyond the clothes on my back. The mugging had seen to that. And if this Monster – Aeshma, she called herself – if she wanted to kill me, she could easily do it right here in the alley instead of luring me somewhere else.

  So why not join up with her?

  “Yeah, let’s party up. That sounds fine,” I said with a shrug.

  She clapped me on the back and shouted, “Sweet! Hey, I think this is the start of something great, you know? I’ve just got this feeling in my gut. Aeshma and Ronald, taking the world by the horns!”

  “It’s Roland,” I sighed.

  “You’ll have to remind me. I am one hundo percent gonna get it wrong again.”

  PARTY (2/2)

  ------------------

  Roland LV0

  Ancestry: Human

  Class: Not yet chosen

  ---------------------------------

  Aeshma LV?

  Ancestry: ?

  Class: ?