I died because of a banana peel.
Not cancer.
Not a heroic sacrifice.
Not even a truck, which honestly would've been respectable by reincarnation standards.
A banana peel.
One second, I was twenty-three years old, carrying groceries up the stairs to my apartment and wondering whether the company would notice if I stopped pretending to read emails.
The next—
SKID.
My foot shot forward.
My groceries went backward.
And gravity filed my resignation letter.
I remember exactly three things from the fall.
First: thirty-seven stairs is a lot of stairs when you're personally meeting every single one.
Second: a carton of eggs has surprisingly good air time.
Third: as I reached the bottom, my last coherent thought was:
I'm going to die like a cartoon character.
Then—
Nothing.
No tunnel.
No angels.
No judgment.
No floating cosmic woman apologizing because she accidentally erased me.
Just darkness.
Which, considering my recent humiliation, was probably merciful.
Then my brain turned back on.
And immediately wished it hadn't.
Cold.
That was the first thing.
Not normal winter cold.
This was the kind of cold that felt personal.
The kind of cold that had looked at warmth, rejected the concept, and chosen violence.
I tried to inhale sharply.
Instead, my nose was assaulted by approximately six billion smells.
Metal.
Oil.
Snow.
Burned circuitry.
Rust.
Something electrical.
Something dead.
Something very dead.
Something dead that had apparently been dead long enough to develop several fascinating new categories of dead—
Too much.
I jerked backward.
My body moved wrong.
Four different limbs attempted four different emergency procedures.
None consulted each other.
I rolled sideways.
Snow exploded around me.
I stopped with my face buried in a drift.
Silence.
Then:
"...Borf."
I froze.
That sound had come from me.
I raised my head very, very slowly.
My vision was lower than it should've been.
My hands were missing.
In their place were two golden paws.
I stared at them.
The paws remained paws.
I lifted one.
It lifted.
I put it down.
I lifted the other.
Yep.
Still a paw.
"No."
Bark.
My ears twitched.
My ears.
Twitched.
"Oh, you've got to be—"
Borf!
Something behind me began moving.
I spun around in panic.
Nothing.
It moved again.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
I stared over my shoulder.
A large golden tail was wagging behind me.
My tail.
Apparently my body had received news about reincarnation before I had and was taking it much better.
Then a blue screen appeared directly in front of my face.
I yelped and jumped backward.
All four legs disagreed about which direction "backward" was.
I crashed into the snow again.
The screen followed.
Great.
Death hadn't cured pop-up ads.
『 SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE 』
Host: Unnamed
Species: Golden Retriever
Sex: Male
Location: Copper-9
Status: Alive
I stopped.
Copper-9?
I didn't know what Copper-9 was.
That sounded concerning enough before getting to the part where I was apparently a golden retriever on it.
Another line appeared.
『 EMOTIONAL COLLECTION SYSTEM ONLINE 』
Generate emotional responses from sentient beings.
Harvested emotions are converted into Emotional Points — EP.
EP may be spent to improve the Host.
Current EP: 0
I stared.
The screen waited.
I stared harder.
It continued waiting.
"...Borf?"
『 Correct. 』
I narrowed my eyes.
The system had attitude.
Wonderful.
I mentally focused on the words improve the Host.
The screen changed.
『 AVAILABLE DEVELOPMENT PATHS 』
Physical
Strength
Speed
Endurance
Agility
Sensory
Smell
Hearing
Canine
Social Instinct
Retriever's Instinct
Additional categories remain locked.
That was... considerably more useful.
So I was dead.
Reincarnated.
As a dog.
On an unknown planet.
With a system that rewarded me for making people feel things.
I considered this information carefully.
Then I sneezed.
My tail wagged.
I hated this body already.
I attempted to stand.
Attempt one ended with my front legs going forward and my back legs somehow going sideways.
Attempt two transformed me into a golden rug.
Attempt three got me upright for nearly two full seconds before I became overconfident and tried walking.
Bad idea.
Left paw.
Right paw.
Rear—
Which rear leg came next?
I had never needed to think about legs before.
People seriously underappreciated automatic walking.
I took one step.
Two.
Three—
My back paw clipped my front paw.
I somersaulted into a pile of snow.
"...Rrrr."
That one wasn't even intentional.
Something low and canine in my brain was offended by the ground.
I stopped.
That feeling was new.
Actually...
There were a lot of new feelings.
My human mind was still there. Memories. Words. Reasoning. Twenty-three years of embarrassing life experience.
But underneath it was something else.
Instinct.
Not another personality.
Not another consciousness.
More like an entire layer of information my human brain had never possessed.
My ears rotated toward distant noises before I consciously noticed them.
My nose kept dividing the world into trails.
Old oil.
Cold metal.
Frozen snow.
Unknown machine.
My own scent.
And—
My head snapped toward a broken piece of machinery half-buried thirty feet away.
Something smelled interesting.
I took a step toward it.
Stopped.
No.
Absolutely not.
I was still a human being.
Mentally.
I was not going to spend my first day after death sniffing garbage because my new body thought it smelled neat.
...
It smelled really neat.
"No."
Whine.
Traitor.
I forced myself to look elsewhere.
That was when I finally noticed the bodies.
My amusement disappeared.
They were everywhere.
Humanoid machines lay scattered through the frozen street.
Some were buried almost completely beneath snow.
Others had been torn apart.
A head rested several feet from its body, its dark screen cracked.
Another machine had been split through the torso.
Black fluid had frozen across the pavement beneath it.
Oil.
I stepped backward.
My ears lowered automatically.
This wasn't some abandoned city.
It was a graveyard.
Buildings towered around me, many damaged beyond repair. Ice covered shattered windows. Old advertisements flickered weakly from dead storefronts.
One enormous corporate logo remained attached to a distant building.
JCJenson.
Whatever had happened here had happened hard.
I moved closer to one of the destroyed robots.
Immediately, every instinct in my new body screamed:
DANGER.
Not because the robot itself was alive.
It definitely wasn't.
Because of the smell around it.
Oil.
Metal.
And something else.
A sharp chemical scent.
Something unfamiliar.
Something that had been here after this machine died.
I backed away.
"Okay."
Borf.
Right.
No talking.
That was going to become annoying extremely quickly.
I looked toward the blue system window.
Help.
『 Contextual Help 』
Recommended priorities:
Locate shelter.
Locate sentient entities.
Acquire EP.
Avoid death.
I stared at number four.
Very insightful.
Thanks.
The interface disappeared.
I started walking.
Slowly this time.
Four legs became easier once I stopped trying to consciously micromanage all of them. The animal part of my brain already knew how to move. I just had to stop interfering.
Within minutes, walking became natural.
Then trotting.
I tried running exactly once.
My golden retriever brain responded with:
YES.
I shot forward.
Snow kicked behind me.
Wind ripped through my fur.
My legs stretched beneath me, movement suddenly effortless—
THIS IS INCREDIBLE.
I ran faster.
My tongue flopped sideways.
My ears bounced.
My tail went insane.
For approximately twelve glorious seconds, I forgot that I was dead, reincarnated, stranded on an alien world, and surrounded by robot corpses.
Then I smelled something.
Living wasn't the right word.
Active.
Machinery.
Electricity.
Movement.
Voices.
I dug my paws into the snow.
Momentum had other plans.
I slid.
Past the corner.
Across an icy patch.
Directly into a metal sign.
BONK.
I collapsed.
Maybe Speed I could wait.
Agility was suddenly looking like a phenomenal investment.
I shook snow from my fur and followed the voices.
They led me toward an enormous industrial bunker built into the ruins.
Now that was a door.
Several reinforced layers.
Heavy locking mechanisms.
Enough metal to make it abundantly clear that whoever lived behind it was extremely committed to keeping something else outside.
Which raised the obvious question.
What?
I approached.
My nose told me machines were inside.
A lot of them.
My ears confirmed it moments later.
Voices.
Then one voice became loud enough that canine hearing was completely unnecessary.
"YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT GOING OUT THERE!"
I stopped.
Male voice.
Mechanical.
Angry.
Scared.
Another voice fired back.
"Wow, crazy idea, Dad, but maybe hiding behind doors forever isn't actually a PLAN!"
Younger.
Female.
Angrier.
"Those doors are the reason we're ALIVE!"
"And they're the reason everybody's waiting around to DIE!"
Oh.
Family argument.
Universal constant successfully confirmed.
I sat beside the bunker entrance.
My ears automatically angled toward the conversation.
"UZI—"
There was a metallic crash inside.
"I'm finishing the railgun!"
"The what?!"
"The RAILGUN."
"I know what a railgun is! WHY DO YOU HAVE ONE?!"
"Because murder robots don't respond to strongly worded complaints!"
I blinked.
Murder robots.
My eyes slowly moved toward the destroyed machines scattered throughout the city.
Ah.
That answered one question.
Unfortunately, it created several worse ones.
"You are not going outside to fight a Disassembly Drone!"
"Sure."
"Uzi."
"Totally listening."
"UZI!"
Something slammed.
Footsteps disappeared deeper inside.
The older voice continued shouting for several seconds before finally fading.
I remained sitting in the snow.
So.
Murder robots.
Excellent.
Very normal reincarnation destination.
I glanced at myself.
Golden fur.
Floppy ears.
No weapons.
Teeth technically counted, but based on the bisected robot thirty feet away, I suspected my dental plan was not going to carry this matchup.
I needed EP.
Which meant I needed somebody to react to me.
There were sentient machines inside.
The door was impossible to enter through.
But based on that argument, one of them intended to come out.
Uzi.
Railgun girl.
I considered scratching on the bunker.
Then reconsidered when I imagined fifty terrified robots discovering an impossible biological creature outside during an apocalypse.
Best case: curiosity.
Worst case: flamethrower.
I curled up beside the entrance.
And waited.
I learned three important things during the next few hours.
One:
Golden retriever fur is excellent.
Two:
Snow makes an acceptable bed when you're covered in said excellent fur.
Three:
There is no dignified way to wake yourself up because your own tail moved.
I lifted my head.
The bunker door was opening.
I scrambled upright.
A hiss of pressure escaped the enormous seals.
Light spilled across the snow.
Someone stepped outside.
Purple eyes glowed against a dark digital visor.
Black boots.
Dark clothing.
A beanie pulled over her head.
And in her hands—
Good grief.
The railgun.
Even without engineering expertise, I could tell the weapon had been constructed through a delicate combination of technical brilliance, reckless confidence, and total contempt for workplace safety regulations.
Parts had been bolted together that did not look as though they had ever wanted to meet.
A glowing power source pulsed within the weapon.
Wires crawled along the frame.
It looked capable of killing a murder robot.
It also looked capable of killing Uzi.
Possibly both simultaneously.
The bunker sealed behind her.
She adjusted the weapon.
"Okay."
Uzi looked across the wasteland.
"Step one: find Murder Drone."
She checked the railgun.
"Step two: railgun."
Pause.
"Step three..."
Another pause.
"Continue being awesome."
I liked her confidence.
Her survival instincts concerned me.
She started walking.
Now.
This was my opportunity.
I stood.
Snow slid from my back.
Crunch.
Uzi spun.
The railgun pointed directly at my face.
I discovered an interesting fact about being a dog.
Your ears can flatten so quickly they practically disappear.
"WHAT THE—?!"
I froze.
Uzi froze.
The gun hummed.
I stared down the barrel.
Second life.
Maybe four hours old.
Potential death cause:
Teenage robot with homemade laser cannon.
Somehow still more dignified than banana peel.
Then Uzi actually processed what she was aiming at.
Her eyes widened.
The railgun lowered approximately two inches.
"What..."
Lowered another inch.
"...is that?"
I remained very still.
Her head tilted.
"Is that a freaking dog?"
DING.
The system exploded into my vision.
『 EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DETECTED 』
Source: Uzi
Surprise: +12 EP
Curiosity: +6 EP
First Encounter Bonus: +9 EP
TOTAL: +27 EP
Current EP: 27
Oh.
Oh, that was good.
Uzi lowered the railgun completely.
"There aren't supposed to be dogs."
I sat.
Tail wag.
Not intentional.
Her expression changed.
"Like... biologically, scientifically, physically, historically—there should not be a dog here."
Tail wag.
"You are extremely bad at explaining yourself."
I opened my mouth.
"Woof."
Uzi stared.
I stared back.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Okay, yeah, that's on me."
DING.
Amusement: +6 EP
Curiosity: +8 EP
Current EP: 41
I nearly wagged harder.
Hold on.
My entire progression system was based on making people emotional.
And I was a golden retriever.
Whoever designed this system had accidentally handed capitalism to a creature professionally engineered to make people say awww.
Uzi crouched slightly.
Not close enough to touch me.
Just enough to inspect me.
"You're real."
I sniffed.
Oil.
Metal.
Electricity.
Cold fabric.
Some faint scorched smell from the weapon.
No heartbeat.
Obviously.
But she smelled alive in a way the ruined drones hadn't.
Active.
Warm machinery.
Movement.
Person.
My canine brain accepted all of this instantly.
New person.
Potential friend.
I mentally objected.
We had known her for approximately forty seconds.
My tail continued voting yes.
Uzi pointed one finger at me.
"Okay. Listen, weird apocalypse dog."
My ears perked.
"I'm going out there."
She pointed toward the city.
"There are Disassembly Drones."
Point.
"They have claws."
Point.
"Wings."
Point.
"Acid."
Point.
"And a really annoying habit of murdering everybody."
My ears slowly lowered.
"So you..."
She pointed away from herself.
"...go somewhere safe."
I stared at her.
"Go."
I remained seated.
"Shoo."
Nothing.
"Dog."
Tail wag.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't."
My head tilted.
Something happened to her expression.
Tiny.
Barely there.
But I saw it.
Oh no.
I had discovered the head tilt.
『 EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DETECTED 』
Frustration: +1 EP
Amusement: +6 EP
Affection: +8 EP
TOTAL: +15 EP
Current EP: 56
I had enough for upgrades.
Speed.
Strength.
Agility.
Several options.
Good.
I could finally increase my odds of surviving this—
Uzi turned around.
"Whatever. I'm busy."
And started walking away.
My body followed.
I stopped it.
No.
Absolutely not.
There were murder robots.
This girl had specifically told me not to follow.
This was a combat mission.
I should remain beside the bunker.
Wait for another drone.
Collect points safely.
Make rational decisions.
Uzi kept walking.
My canine brain watched her leave.
Person leaving.
Yes.
That's how distance works.
Person alone.
Correct.
Follow person.
No.
FOLLOW PERSON.
We are not doing—
My front paws moved.
Then the rear paws.
"Oh, come on."
"Borf!"
Uzi looked back.
Saw me.
Stopped.
"No."
I stopped too.
"Go back."
I sat.
She turned.
I stood and followed.
She whipped around again.
"I can SEE you!"
I sat.
Her eyes narrowed.
I wagged.
"Stop doing that!"
I tilted my head.
"STOP BEING CUTE AT ME!"
I opened my mouth in a happy pant.
Uzi made a noise that sounded like her processor was attempting to file a complaint against reality.
"This isn't a walk!"
I continued looking delighted.
"This is a mission!"
Wag.
"There are actual murder machines!"
Wag.
"They will eat you!"
My tail stopped.
Uzi paused.
"...Good. Great. Excellent. At least one sentence got through."
I stood.
Walked beside her.
She stared down at me.
I stared up.
Several seconds passed.
"Seriously?"
I wagged once.
Uzi threw one hand into the air.
"FINE!"
Victory.
"You want to follow me into the frozen murder wasteland? Fine! But I am not responsible for you!"
I trotted faster to stay beside her.
"If a Disassembly Drone tries to kill you, that's your problem."
My ears lowered.
"If one of them tries to eat you, also your problem."
I moved slightly closer to her leg.
"And don't expect me to save you because—"
Something changed.
My ears snapped upright.
Uzi stopped speaking.
I stopped walking.
A sound.
Far away.
Above us.
My human hearing would've missed it.
My new ears didn't.
A mechanical hum sliced through the wind.
Then another.
Something heavy moved through the air.
Fast.
My nose found that same strange scent from the corpses.
Oil.
Metal.
Chemical.
Predator.
Every hair along my spine rose.
Uzi noticed.
"What?"
I stared toward the sky.
"What do you hear?"
The sound grew louder.
Wings.
Large ones.
Mechanical.
Approaching.
My instincts screamed so violently that thought became difficult.
Run.
Hide.
Predator.
Uzi slowly raised her railgun.
A yellow light appeared high above the ruined buildings.
Then vanished behind the storm.
My system opened by itself.
『 WARNING 』
Hostile entity approaching.
Current EP: 56
Affordable Enhancements:
Endurance I — 40 EP
Olfaction I — 35 EP
Hearing I — 35 EP
Agility I — 45 EP
Speed I — 50 EP
Strength I — 50 EP
Retriever's Instinct I — 55 EP
I stared at the list.
Then at Uzi.
Then at the darkness above us.
A figure dropped through the snowstorm.
Two mechanical wings spread behind it.
Yellow eyes burned through the night.
My tail stopped wagging.
For the first time since waking up on Copper-9, every part of me—human and canine—agreed on exactly one thing.
Oh, crap.