The System and Crazy — Back to 1995 AmericaPrologue: The Death That Shouldn't Have Happened
Daniel had his whole life ahead of him.
At 23, he had finally made it. Fresh out of university, he had just landed his dream job — system programmer at Apple, one of the fastest-growing tech companies in the world.
Future secured. Big paycheck. Silicon Valley glory within reach.
But fate had other plans.
Walking back from the company campus, coffee in hand, his thoughts filled with lines of code and dreams of success — he saw her. A little girl in the street. A truck speeding toward her, brakes failing, horns blaring.
No time to think. No hesitation.
Daniel dropped his coffee. Ran.
Pushed the girl out of harm's way.
Impact. Darkness. Cold. Silence.
Heaven's Mistake
He opened his eyes to… an office?
Bright, endless space. Desks floating in mid-air. Holograms spinning. Beings in business suits, some with wings, some with glowing eyes, rushing around.
At the reception desk, a young woman in white adjusted her headset, chewing gum. She scanned Daniel.
"Name?"
"Daniel [Last Name]."
She typed… froze… frowned… typed again… and again… and again.
Panic set in.
"No… no no no… this can't be right."
She hit the keyboard twenty more times. Each time, the same result:
Daniel [Last Name] — Death scheduled at 109 years old. Peacefully. Surrounded by family and friends.
Her face turned pale as a cloud.
"Uhhh… stay right there… don't move… not that you can go anywhere… I need my supervisor."
The Third Mistake This Century
Moments later, a tall man in a sharp silver suit approached. His expression calm — until he read the monitor. His eyes widened, color drained from his face.
"Third case this century… unbelievable."
He adjusted his tie, nodded at Daniel.
"Please, follow me."
Daniel, utterly lost, followed through glowing corridors filled with strange beings and endless doors — some labeled 'Archives', others 'New Souls', one ominously marked 'Do Not Enter — Under Maintenance'.
They stopped at a grand, golden double door.
The supervisor knocked gently.
Tea With Death
Inside, the room looked nothing like Heaven.
Velvet chairs, gold details, marble floors. Classical music playing softly.
At the center, a round table. Two figures laughing, sharing tea and pastries.
One — an old man with kind, ancient eyes. Radiating wisdom, power… and a hint of frustration.
The other — a skeletal figure in a black hoodie, sipping tea.
Death.
Daniel's brain short-circuited for a moment.
The old man, God himself, looked up, reading Daniel like an open file in the divine system.
"Ah… him again," God muttered, sighing heavily.
He turned to Death.
"Is this you, mixing up similar names again?"
Death held up bony hands, tea still steaming in one.
"I swear, not my fault this time. System glitch. Maybe IT shouldn't have outsourced soul tracking to Earth's interns."
God pinched the bridge of his nose.
"This is turning into a manga scene, I swear… angels, skeletons, IT failures… what's next? A system reboot?"
The supervisor coughed politely.
"Third wrong death case this century, sir."
God sighed, looking at Daniel.
"Well… looks like you got caught in the mess. You weren't supposed to die at 23. You were meant to live till 109… big life, family, legacy."
God snapped his fingers. A glowing interface appeared before Daniel's eyes.
System Initialization… Please Stand By…
"We're sending you back. But with an upgrade," God smirked.
"Back to 1995. With the power to change everything. Consider it… divine compensation."
The room faded. Light exploded.
Daniel felt himself pulled through time, space, and reality itself.
God, The IT Department, and Death — Emergency Team Meeting
The doors slammed shut as Daniel disappeared, sent spiraling back to 1995 with The System embedded in his soul.
Inside the grand room, God sighed so loudly the walls shook.
"Alright… emergency meeting. Now."
Death, still sipping tea, snickered.
"Told you outsourcing IT to Earth interns was a terrible plan."
Moments later, the golden doors burst open — the Celestial IT Department shuffled in like guilty teenagers called to the principal's office.
Beings of every shape and form:
A glowing orb wearing glasses,
An angel with code running down his wings like Matrix rain,
One demon intern nervously holding a clipboard labeled Bug Reports — DO NOT IGNORE,
And of course, Jeff… the cherub with oversized glasses and the infamous "Do Not Plug In" USB still dangling from his belt.
The lead technician, an ancient angel with circuits running through his halo, cleared his throat.
"Uh, You summoned us, Almighty?"
God, fingers templed, eyes heavy with cosmic disappointment, nodded.
"Three wrongful deaths. Three. This century. Do you know how long I've been running this universe? Eternity. And never… NEVER… did I lose track of souls… until you geniuses decided to 'modernize' Heaven's infrastructure."
The angel with the Matrix wings looked sheepish.
"It was… for efficiency, sir. Paperwork was piling up, karma points processing took centuries, and—"
Death cut him off, laughing.
"And you thought replacing Divine Fate with Earth's AI was a good call? Half their chatbots can't even reset passwords!"
The room went quiet. Everyone looked at Jeff.
Jeff gulped.
"Technically… the AI didn't glitch. It's the new SoulSync 3.2 Update… little bug… causes death schedules to desync by, uh… 80 years."
God stared.
Death facepalmed, skeletal fingers scraping across bone.
"Little bug? You sent a guy meant to die at 109 straight under a truck at 23! A promising Apple programmer no less!"
The lead tech nervously scrolled his divine tablet.
"But… but look, sir. We auto-corrected… We gave Daniel access to The System."
God's eyes narrowed.
"The System? You mean the hyper-advanced, reality-bending program that manipulates global markets, builds companies, hacks infrastructure, and… controls entire timelines?"
The room fell dead silent.
Jeff, still clinging to his USB, squeaked:
"He… he'll be fine. Probably."
God stood up, aura pulsing with raw power.
"You turned one human's reincarnation into a shonen manga arc with cheat codes. You better PRAY he doesn't break the economy before puberty."
Death chuckled darkly, raising his teacup.
"Too late for prayers. This is gonna be fun."
(Part 2): God, The IT Department, and Death — Meeting Chaos Continues
The room buzzed with tension. Jeff practically turned transparent from stress. The glowing orb was shaking. Even the Matrix-winged angel was avoiding eye contact.
And then…
Death burst out laughing.
A deep, rattling, bone-chilling laugh that echoed across the clouds like a storm rolling in.
"Oh, this… THIS… I gotta see this one up close!" Death wiped an imaginary tear from his hollow eye socket, the skull practically grinning from ear to ear.
"A soul like Daniel… given The System? Back in '95? Stock markets, technology, world history — twisted in his little mortal hands? His karma's going straight down the toilet of Hell's plumbing department!"
The IT team collectively winced.
God, still radiating divine authority, slowly turned His gaze toward Death.
That look.
The kind of look that made supernovas explode out of sheer awkwardness.
"Death… I honestly don't know if I should banish you to Universe-79X… or just make you retire and let your daughter take your job."
The room froze.
Even Death's skeletal jaw dropped.
"Wait… you wouldn't dare…"
God arched an eyebrow, half amused, half cosmic-level fed up.
"Oh, I would. She's been shadowing you for decades. Plus, she's way more organized — no misplaced souls, no 'similar name mix-ups,' no coffee breaks with mortals."
Death raised his bony hands in mock surrender, still chuckling.
"Alright, alright… no need to bring Little Miss Overachiever into this. But seriously, I have to stick close to Daniel. This kid's life is going to be a trainwreck of legendary proportions — watching his karma tank is better than Netflix!"
God sighed, rubbing his temples, ancient patience nearly spent.
"Fine… watch him. But you're on thin cosmic ice, Death."
Death gave a dramatic bow, skeletal cloak sweeping the floor.
"With pleasure. Consider me Daniel's… guardian, observer, and part-time popcorn supplier."
The IT department collectively groaned.
Jeff nervously tapped his Do Not Plug In USB like a stress ball.
God glanced toward the glowing holographic screens showing Earth.
"This better not spiral into a galactic sitcom…" He muttered.
Spoiler: It totally would.