The evening was beautiful. The kind of golden hour that made the city glow, where the air was soft and warm, and even the breeze felt gentle.
Amara strolled along the sidewalk, sipping an iced latte she had no business buying because her bank account was crying. The neon lights of the nearby shops reflected in the puddles on the pavement, couples laughed as they passed, and she thought idly to herself, If life had background music, this would be the wholesome slice-of-life track.
Then, of course, the universe decided to kill her.
The screech of tires split the air. Her head whipped around just in time to see headlights barreling toward her.
"...Oh, you've got to be kidding me...!"
BAM.
Darkness swallowed her.
When she opened her eyes again, the world had changed. No streets. No latte. No body, even. Just a star-strewn void that looked like someone spilled glitter across black silk.
And lounging right in the middle of it was a man or rather, something pretending to be one wearing a smug grin, a cosmic bathrobe, and sipping what looked suspiciously like coffee from a "#1 GOD" mug.
"Welcome, mortal," he drawled. "You died."
Amara blinked. "...Excuse me?"
"You died," he repeated, as if announcing the weather. "Truck. Splat. Classic. You're welcome."
"You....what?!" She gawked. "I was minding my business! Do you know how rare it is for me to have a good day? And then a truck?! Really? The legendary Truck-kun meme actually killed me?"
ROB smirked. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. You weren't important enough for a meme. Just bad luck."
Her jaw dropped. "Bad luck? You make it sound like I tripped over a sidewalk crack!"
He took a slow sip, unbothered. "You just died. It's not that big of a deal. You're making it out to be this grand tragedy. People die all the time."
Amara stared. "Did you just—? I got flattened like a pancake, and you're telling me it's no big deal?"
"Correct." He pointed his mug at her like a toast. "Welcome to the void. Population: You and my sparkling personality."
"Oh my god, you're insufferable."
"Technically omnipotent," he corrected smugly. "But I'll allow it."
Amara dragged her hands over her face, or at least the ghostly outline of them. "Okay, fine. I'm dead. Now what? Eternal nothingness? Or are you here to pitch me some cliché offer?"
ROB's grin widened. "Glad you asked! You've been chosen for the exclusive Transmigration Experience™. Think of it as a second chance… with a twist."
She narrowed her eyes. "And by twist, you mean you get free entertainment while I suffer."
"Exactly!" he said cheerfully.
A massive glowing roulette wheel appeared beside him, cosmic and ridiculous. Instead of numbers, its wedges were labeled: Naruto, Harry Potter, Doraemon, Twilight, One Piece, Attack on Titan, Barbie's Dream World, and at least twenty more.
Amara's eye twitched. "You've got to be kidding me."
He gestured like a game show host. "Step right up, contestant! Spin the Wheel of Fate™ and win a brand new life! Death doesn't have to be boring."
"This looks like a slot machine from Vegas," she deadpanned.
"Blasphemy!" ROB gasped. "This is handcrafted cosmic technology."
"It has glitter stickers on it."
"Do you want a new life or not?"
She sighed. "...Fine."
She grabbed the lever and gave it a pull. The wheel spun, glowing wedges flashing. Her heart thudded as it slowed, slowed… and clicked.
Twilight.
Amara froze. "No. No, no, no, no, no. Twilight? As in sparkly vampires, moody werewolves, and a love triangle that makes no sense?"
ROB looked utterly delighted. "Ding ding ding! We have a winner!"
"Un-spin it. Re-spin it. I refuse."
He leaned back lazily. "Sorry, no takebacks. Fate has spoken. Forks, Washington, here you come."
She groaned into her ghostly hands. "Kill me again."
"Already did," he said smugly.
Before she could argue further, another roulette appeared beside the first, this one filled with shimmering symbols instead of worlds.
"Since I'm merciful," ROB announced, "you get three spins for powers. Don't say I never gave you anything."
"Merciful?" she hissed.
"Spin."
First spin: the wheel slowed… Healing Touch.
She blinked. "Okay… that's actually not bad."
ROB scoffed. "Shocking. I thought you'd get 'Ability to Find Loose Change in Sofas.'"
Second spin: the wheel turned… Luck Blessing.
Her face brightened. "Yes! Maybe now I won't die crossing roads."
ROB smirked. "Truck-kun sends his regards."
Third spin: the wheel glittered and landed on… Charm of the Moon.
She frowned. "Charm of the Moon? What even is that?"
ROB's grin was wicked. "Congratulations, you're basically human catnip. People will like you, trust you, admire you. Super handy when surrounded by moody teenagers and immortal predators."
"...So you're making me the main character of a teen drama."
"You're welcome."
He snapped his fingers, and a manila folder appeared in her hands. It was labeled: New Identity.
"Amara Swan," he declared proudly. "Cousin of Isabella Swan, taken in by Charlie after your rich parents conveniently died in an accident. Nobody will suspect a thing."
Her eyes widened. "Wait. Swan? You're dropping me right into the plot?!"
ROB leaned forward, smug as ever. "Of course. And because I am extremely merciful, I arranged for your dead parents to be loaded. Rich. Wealthy. So you never have to worry about bills, part-time jobs, or scraping pennies like a tragic heroine."
Amara blinked. "…That's… actually nice of you."
"Obviously." He smirked. "I'm very generous."
She eyed him suspiciously. "…What's the catch?"
ROB took another sip of cosmic coffee. "Catch? None at all. You'll live in a big gloomy forest town with supernatural politics, immortal predators, and hormonal teenagers but hey! At least you won't be broke."
"…You're the worst."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," ROB said smugly.
ROB snapped his fingers, and suddenly a mountain of paperwork appeared in Amara's lap. The papers stretched into the void like a never-ending scroll.
"What the...what is this?" she gawked.
"Standard reincarnation and transmigration paperwork," ROB said smoothly, adjusting invisible glasses. "Don't worry, it's just the usual soul-binding, world-assimilation, and minor clauses about property and liability."
"Minor clauses?!" Amara flipped a page. The text was written in some kind of glowing celestial script. She couldn't read a single word.
"Yeah, yeah, boring stuff," ROB said with a dismissive wave. "Initial here, sign there, don't smudge the ink. Chop-chop!"
"Wait...I should at least read what I'm signing!"
ROB's smug smile widened. "Oh, you could. But then you'd be stuck in the void for a few millennia while you finish the fine print. Your call."
Amara glared at him, then snatched the pen. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, very efficient," ROB quipped.
She scribbled her name on the last page, muttering, "I hope this isn't selling my soul or something."
"Technically, it's more like a long-term lease," ROB said breezily. Then, without warning, he snapped his fingers.
The void yawned beneath her feet.
"WAIT—at least give me time to—"
Then, without warning, he snapped his fingers.
The void yawned beneath her feet.
"Wait—WAIT! You're not even giving me a countdown?!"
"Time is money, sweetheart. And I'm merciful enough to make you rich. Be grateful!" ROB called as she plummeted, his grin the last thing she saw.
Amara's scream echoed through the glittering abyss until everything went black.
"Surprise is part of the charm," ROB called, his voice fading as she fell. "Enjoy Forks, cousin Amara~!"
Amara's scream echoed through the glittering abyss until everything went black.
ROB stretched, swirling his coffee lazily as the void settled back into silence. He shook his head with a smug little sigh.
"Stupid mortal. At least she could have read the contract. She might've bargained for extra perks better powers, maybe even a safety net. But nooo…" He smirked. "Humans never read the fine print. Every single one I deal with stupid, predictable, dramatic."
He took another sip, lips quirking.
"Entertaining, though."