A Hard Place

It's dark.

It's... empty.

There's no feeling.

I try to put my hands in front of my face.

There's no sensation. I can't see them. I can't feel them.

Maybe they're there. Maybe they're not.

Maybe I don't have hands at all. Or a face.

Am I even breathing right now?

________________________________________________

Blanche looked at me expectantly.

I shut my eyes and tried to grasp at the tidbits of information floating loosely in my head.

"... is it kind of like c'est la vie?"

Blanche frowned at my answer. "I thought I could save a little time explaining, but it seems like you really did spend your entire life sleeping under a rock."

"Hey, I can barely remember my name! How am I supposed to know foreign language trivia?" I said indignantly.

"Trust me, Jude. Barely being able to remember your name is not something you want to brag about unless you've been drinking from the river Lethe. If you'd had any other processing agent, they would have laughed you out of their office. And for that matter, they probably wouldn't have even bothered to loosen your Soul Shackles, let alone release them."

I paused for a moment. There were those 'soul shackles' again. But more importantly...

"There are other people like you?"

Blanche's smooth forehead crinkled as she gave me a smile that was almost a grimace. "Of course. Many agents are needed to process the amount of souls that come throught the Department. Why? Were you thinking of transferring to another agent?"

"Oh... well, uh, if that's something that I can do then-"

"Before you answer that question, I'd like to inform you that I have been extraordinarily kind and forthcoming, given your situation. Most, if not all, other agents would treat someone with a file such as yours as trash who'd slapped their mother."

"W-what?"

"The others would not hesitate to discriminate against someone who had received the gift of life, only to seemingly piddle it away meaninglessly. It's almost as if you're spitting in the face of the gods themselves."

Wait a second.

"Gods?"

Blanche snorted at my question before sneering towards the roof. "Yes. 'Gods'. Who did you think was running all these different afterlives? Did you think it was a Democracy? I'm pretty sure Zeus would have a heart attack if that were true."

Blanche looked back down at me.

"Look, forget about that for right now. What's important is that I'm your best, and probably only shot here. I'll be honest with you, your case file was sitting in the queue untouched for quite a while before I came along. Who knows how long it'll be before another agent is willing to go near such a problem case?"

I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. "Oh yeah? Well if I'm such a problem case, then why did you decide to be my agent?"

"Well... let's just say I'm not in a position to be turning down clients." She said with a pained look on her face. Her eyes seemed to rest on one of the walls that had begun growing mildew.

Ok, so maybe she was telling the truth. And although she can be a bit rude and condescending, it's not like Blanche has done anything that would make me hate her. It's probably better to stick with her than gamble with someone new.

"Alright, fine. I won't go looking for another agent." I said, throwing my hands up in surrender.

Blanche simply returned back to her customer service smile. "I knew you'd see reason, Jude. That's why I think you'll also be able to see what a grand opportunity this is!" she said while gesturing back to paper in front of me.

"Oh yeah. What was that thing you were talking about earlier?"

"Isekai. It's a term that's popular on earth for when someone is transported to another world. Usually a high-fantasy type of world. You know, with magic and monsters and such. There's often an unending battle between Good and Evil. And hey, sometimes there's even a Demon King! It's a place that really inspires one to adventure boldly and really take action. Well anyways, that's where I plan on sending you. "

I looked at Blanche who was saying this so nonchalantly.

"Uh, you mean I'm going to have to fight monsters? And a Demon King!?" I asked nervously.

"Oh don't worry about that too much. Your odds of getting a Demon King world is quite low. Most worlds that have a Demon King infestation have..."

Blanche looked at me as if she were looking for the right words.

"... Strict requirements when choosing transmigrators. Besides, even if you do end up in a world with demons, that doesn't mean you have to fight them. You can leave the fighting to others while you choose to run an inn, or become an apothecary, or attend a wizard academy! There are so many fun and unique things to do in these worlds! Doesn't that sound fun?"

"I mean, it does, but..." I trailed off without finishing my thought.

"But what?" asked Blanche expectantly.

But why does it seem like you're trying to sell me something?

I didn't say that of course.

"...But doesn't it sound a little too dangerous?"

Blanche sighed. "This might be hard to hear, but a little danger is exactly what you need right now. If you lead another boring, low-stakes type of life like the one you had on earth, you'll just end up back here again."

"That doesn't seem so bad...?" I said half-truthfully.

Blanche simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what if someone like me isn't around to pick up your case then, huh? How bad would it look if you spent TWO lifetimes doing jack all? You could spend centuries in that waiting room before an agent is willing to touch your case with a ten foot pole. Soul Shackles can only keep you asleep for so long too, by the way. You could spend hundreds of years staring at those big red numbers, waiting to be called up one 'ding!' at a time."

I gulped audibly. Having to sit drugged up in that room again for any amount of time felt pretty close to hell for me.

"Is this my only option?" I asked.

"Well technically, no. But unless you plan on selling your soul to enter one of the afterlives as a slave, this is your best bet."

That does sound pretty unpleasant.

"Ok then. So what am I supposed to do?"

Blanche handed me the quill pen that had been resting in the ink well on her desk.

"Why, you simply need to sign on the dotted line!" she said cheerily, flashing the brightest smile I'd seen yet.

Her teeth were so white that it made the deep red on her lips look almost like fresh blood.

________________________________________________

Sensory deprivation is the best way I could put it. The only thing I knew was real were my thoughts. Other than that, there was nothing.

I fell into an existential panic when I first regained consciousness. How long had I spent trying to touch something, suck air into my non-existant lungs, or scream for somebody to help.

Hours? Days? Months? There was no way to tell in this endless void.

But eventually, I managed to regain some semblance of sanity. And I began to try and understand my situation.

"The last thing I remember is signing that contract. Which, according to Blanche, would mean that I've been reborn into another world." I thought to myself.

Am I perhaps a baby in the womb?

No, babies would still be able to hear and feel things, and kick at their mother's stomach.

"I don't think experiencing being born is something I'd like to go through. Though it would be worth it to escape this place."

Have I been buried alive?

If I had, I'd be dead and chatting it up with Blanche again, wouldn't I?

So that only leaves one option really.

I've been scammed! Reincarnation in another world, my ass! I probably just signed my soul away to one of the dozens of different Satans and now I'm suffering away in one of the dozens of different Hells. Damn you, Blanche!

No, no. I must have faith. I read the terms of the contract. Well, most of them. This should definitely be a magical world that I've been transported to.

Wait. Magical...?

Magical!

I shut my non-existant eyes and began to focus.

Perhaps... Maybe...

...

Nothing happened.

Yep, this is Hell.

As I was about to resign myself back into madness, a small spark of light appeared before quickly disappearing.

"Huh?"

Light? Sensation?

Was it just my imagination? The madness setting in?

But that one flash of light felt like a drop of rain after a year if drought.

I began to focus again.

Soon, another particle of light popped into existence. I was shaking in anticipation. I focused on it intensely.

This time, instead of disappearing, it began to float closer to me.

"It seemed the more I focus on it, the quicker it comes towards me."

Eventually it reached me, and without any resistance...

*Fwoop!*

It was sucked inside me.

I wasn't trying to do that. It just happened.

It's a hard feeling to describe. Especially when you don't seem to have a sense of touch. Cool, yet also warm. Soft, yet also sharp. Exciting, yet also soothing. But more important than that...

"It feels good."

I tried focusing again, and before I knew it, two more motes of light showed up out of nowhere.

"Come to Papa!" I thought to myself desperately, as I struggled to split my focus between two different sources.

It was a bit slower, but they both eventually made their way in front of me before being absorbed into my body.

That feeling again, only stronger since there were two.

I think I'm addicted now.

Again, an indeterminate amount of time passed. My life had just become a minigame of collecting lights and letting their sensation wash over me.

"I wonder if this what a worker bee feels like when it collects nectar." I wondered silently. Not that I had much choice about the silently part.

After some time, I started to feel full. Like I couldn't hold anymore light. It was a good feeling. Like having a big meal after a holiday. Only instead of growing sleepy, I just grew more excited and energized.

"I feel like... with this light I can..."

Almost instinctually, I began to try and manipulate the light inside of me. In response, large clump inside me slowly began churn and tumble before finally-!

*BLEUCH!*

Ah.

I threw up.

All that light I'd spent time gathering...

"Wait a second..."

I couldn't believe my non-existent eyes. I could see!

Well not exactly see. Anywhere the light vomit landed, I could sense it. I could "see", and even "feel" it's shape. Almost as if the light were my hands and eyes.

There was grass! And a tree trunk! And leaves! And ground!

But the luckiest part, or perhaps unlucky part depending on how you view it, was that I'd managed to throw up quite a bit on myself

I turned my attention towards my self observation.

I had smooth skin, yet sharp features. Perhaps a bit round and heavyset, but nothing a little hard work at the gym can't fix.

Ah, I'm desperately trying to avoid having to accept reality.

The hard truth, you could say.

That I've been reincarnated as a fucking rock.