The restaurant Anthony had chosen wasn't expensive, but it had that cozy, candlelit atmosphere he loved. Soft music played in the background, the smell of fresh pasta filled the air, and waiters walked by carrying steaming trays. To him, it was perfect: intimate, discreet, and special enough to celebrate three years with the woman he loved.
He adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, and broke into a wide smile when she arrived.
"Love! You actually made it on time… that's great."
She only lifted her hand in a weak wave, as if forcing her own presence into the room. She sat down slowly, crossed her legs, and didn't even try to hide her tired sigh. Her gaze wandered, stuck on her phone screen, then the door, then nowhere at all.
But Anthony was far too radiant to notice the warning signs.
"Three years, huh?" He let out a small laugh, nerves tinged with happiness. "I was remembering our first date today… you remember? That empty movie theater?"
"Uh… kind of." She toyed with a strand of hair, emotionless.
"Ah, yeah, sure…"
Anthony thought it was just fatigue. Maybe a rough week. Maybe the food hadn't arrived yet. He kept smiling, trying to hold the mood together.
"I wanted to use today to… well, to say thank you."
She lifted her eyes, but not out of interest — out of obligation.
"Thank me for what?"
"For staying by my side all this time. For believing in me. I… I know I get a bit clumsy sometimes, but you—"
"Anthony."
Her voice came cold, hard, leaving no room for illusions.
He stopped.
A waiter walked by with steaming plates. A couple at the next table toasted with wine.But at their table, the air grew heavy.
"We need to talk."
His heart tightened.
It was the last thing any excited boyfriend wanted to hear on their anniversary.
"Is everything okay? You seem—"
"I don't want this anymore."
Direct. Raw. Without a hint of hesitation.
Anthony blinked a few times.
"Y-You don't want… the dinner?"
"The relationship."
The table shook when he pressed his hand down hard, trying to anchor himself to a reality less cruel.
"W-What are you saying…? We've been together for three years…"
She sighed, like someone pulling off a bandage from a wound that no longer hurts.
"Exactly. Three years. And I don't feel anything anymore, Anthony. Nothing worth holding onto."
He felt his throat close.
"But— I… made plans for us. I took care of you. I even helped you with your issues with your mother. I thought—"
"I know."
Her eyes drifted away, the way they always did when she told half-truths.
"But it's not enough. I don't want this anymore."
Anthony tried searching her face for some affection. For regret. For anything that could prove this was just a bad moment.
But she was distant.
Distant like someone who already had somewhere else to run.
Distant like someone who had already chosen another path — or another person.
He swallowed hard.
"This is all because you're already with someone else, isn't it…?"
She froze for half a second — just enough for him to notice.
"That's not what this is about."
It was exactly what it was about.
Anthony stood up so fast that the chair screeched against the floor. His eyes burned, his breath was uneven, his chest tight.
"O-Okay." he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Sorry for bothering your day."
And before anyone at the next table could notice the tears already falling, he left the restaurant practically running, stumbling at the door, ignoring the rain beginning to fall outside.
She just stayed there, staring at her phone.
A notification lit up.
"I'm here. Want to come over later?"
It was Anthony's childhood friend.
Claro, docinho. Aqui está a tradução todinha, bem direitinha pra ti:
Anthony ran down the sidewalk like a child whose favorite toy had just been ripped from his hands. The light rain hit his face, but it was impossible to tell where the drops from the sky ended and his tears began.
He sobbed. Loudly. Desperately.
The kind of sobbing that would make any passerby look at him and think: "Wow… someone just lost their job, the love of their life, and maybe the dog too."
And worse, he was ugly-crying.
Runny nose.
Uneven breathing.
Face all twisted.
That expression no human being would ever want to see reflect—
"OH GOD, THE STORE WINDOW REFLECTION!"
He saw his own distorted face in the glass of an electronics shop.
Horrible. Tragic. Comical.
He looked like a mix of a "sad clown" with a "soaking wet cat about to be adopted out of pity."
And while he ran, his mind played a humiliation slideshow:
"I gave her that giant teddy bear on her birthday…"
"I stood up to her mother for her… the CATHOLIC MOTHER! She still hates me!"
"I made that vegan dinner even though I hate broccoli…"
"And I even bought that ridiculously expensive necklace… the one she said she'd 'cherish'… and never wore…"
Each memory was an emotional slap.
Slap after slap.
He was emotionally bruised already.
"I'M AN IDIOT!"
He shouted in the middle of the street, utterly overtaken by chaos. A woman crossing the road dodged him like he was a stray animal.
He knew. He always knew he was clumsy, naive, too flexible, and even said "sorry" when someone bumped into him for no reason at all.
But this pain… that specific little pain…
It hurt like someone had set his tiny heart inside a rat trap.
And then—
He stopped feeling the ground.
Anthony took two more steps in mid-air.
Yes. In mid-air.
He looked down slowly.
With that primitive instinct telling you that you've just done something stupid.
Under his feet… there was no ground.
Only a dark hole, comfortably big enough for someone to fall into and become a morning-news statistic.
An uncovered manhole, black as his emotional future.
He didn't even have time to think:
"Uh-oh."
Gravity, which had just been watching until now, decided to clock back in.
And pulled him.
"WAAAAAHOO-HOO-HOO-HOOEY—!!"
He fell, screaming like a cat being thrown into a cold bath.
The echo made it sound like ten Anthonys were screaming at once.
And with that…
The darkness swallowed him whole.
----------------------------------------
The fall seemed to last an eternity until—
—SMAAACK!
Anthony hit the ground face-first.
The impact echoed, as if he had passionately kissed the floor.
"Ow… my… spine… I think I broke my spine…"
He rolled onto his back, staring into the absolute nothingness above him. Nothing. No light, no shadows, no walls. Just infinite darkness. A void so complete it felt like his eyes had been switched off.
"Where… where am I?"
"In the existential void."
The answer came softly, almost musical.
Anthony turned at once — and his eyes widened.
There, walking toward him with the vibe of an overworked civil servant, was a very abnormal cat.
It had yellow and white fur with brown stripes, slightly glowing green eyes, and wore a dark green hooded cloak. On its back it carried a small purple backpack, adorable and suspicious at the same time.
And it walked on two legs naturally, as if that were the most normal thing in the universe.
"W-Well… hi?" Anthony muttered.
"Hello!" the cat nodded with a feline smile. "I'm Satus! Responsible for handling souls in the afterlife. Something like… an attendant, supervisor, therapist, and babysitter for dead people."
Satus clapped his paws together, and a dark wooden office desk appeared out of nowhere.
A chair lifted Anthony off the ground by force and dragged him to the desk, while another chair popped up behind Satus, who sat down normally.
"Let's see… let's see…"
Satus snapped his fingers, and a stack of documents appeared on the desk, along with a pen that seemed to be made of light.
He began flipping through the pages, green eyes scanning line after line.
"Anthony James. Twenty-seven years old. Born in… mhm… high-earning lawyer… comfortable life… emotionally gullible… ah, that explains a lot…"
Anthony winced.
"I—I wasn't that gullible…"
"Yes, you were."
He flipped another page.
"Three-year relationship… ah, I get it. Suffered emotional manipulation level… eight out of ten. Pretty severe. Salvageable, but you're not exactly popular in the self-esteem department."
Anthony sighed.
"I… I know."
Satus turned to another page.
He froze.
And then… he started laughing.
"YOU FELL INTO A SEWER HOLE?! AHAHAHAHA! OH MY GOD, THIS IS BEAUTIFUL! TRAGIC AND STUPID AT THE SAME TIME!"
Anthony covered his face in shame.
"I… I was emotionally unstable!"
"You were emotionally BLIIIND, that's what you were!" Satus wiped a tear of laughter. "Ah… it's been millennia since I laughed like that. Thank you."
Anthony just grumbled.
After a few more minutes of reading — accompanied by comments like "Hmm, typical…", "Oh wow, embarrassing…", and "Your romantic decision-making should be illegal" — Satus finally stopped on a specific page.
"Oho. This inheritance is a mess."
Anthony swallowed hard.
"Ah…"
"You put all your assets, properties, savings, and investments under your girlfriend's name."
Satus closed the folder with a tap.
"Man… this is so naïve it's almost cute. Cute… and utterly pathetic."
Anthony sank into the chair.
"She… said it was just for safety…"
"Uh-huh. And I'm a stuffed cookie."
Satus rolled his eyes.
"Look, since you're dead, the paperwork here gives a posthumous transfer option. Out of pity — and because I'm a kindhearted cat — you can change your inheritance beneficiary."
Anthony blinked, surprised.
"R-Really? I can?"
"Yes. It's that or your ex buys a mansion with a heart-shaped pool while celebrating with your childhood friend."
"…A charity."
Anthony murmured without hesitation.
"Send everything to one that helps disabled children."
Satus smiled proudly.
"Good choice, kid."
He snapped his fingers and all furniture vanished with a poof, leaving them standing in the darkness again.
"Now, onto the important part."
He snapped his fingers again, and a massive spinning wheel appeared, shining with names, logos, titles, and things Anthony recognized from anime, comics, novels, and literature.
"On this wheel is every fictional world you personally know. It's a lot… but don't worry, the universe chooses for you."
Anthony gulped.
"I… I'm going to be reincarnated?"
"Yes. Just like in anime."
Satus pushed the wheel.
It spun fast — very fast.
Anthony was sweating.
He recognized names whizzing by: Naruto… One Piece… Berserk… Dead Space...
The wheel began to slow.
Until—
WARHAMMER 40K
"N-No… NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT HELLHOLE!"
Satus looked at the wheel.
Sighed.
And gave it a gentle tap.
CLACK.
The wheel shifted to the next space.
MY HERO ACADEMIA
Anthony had never been so relieved in his life — literally.
"There." Satus said, walking toward him. "It's decided."
He took the purple backpack off his shoulders and set it in front of Anthony.
"Now, put your hand in and take your gift."
Anthony reached in.
Then his forearm.
Then his elbow.
Then his shoulder.
The bag seemed bottomless.
"It's… deeper than I expected…"
Until his fingers touched something — and he pulled out a glowing green orb.
Before he could ask—
An invisible force yanked him off the ground.
"Wha—?! I'M GOING UP?! HEY! HEY!"
Satus waved calmly, like he was saying goodbye to someone catching a bus.
"That's everything. Good luck in your new life. Don't die again, okay? And try not to fall into another sewer hole!"
Anthony was pulled upward and swallowed by a blinding light before disappearing from the void.