As I take my last breath, I'm remembering Bernard Williams, the British philosopher who said death is a gift. He claimed living forever would make us unbearably bored. Part of me wants to shout, "bullshit!" but I doubt my shattered body can muster that anymore. Oddly, I don't register as much pain as I probably should in this situation. Perhaps shock shields me.
Another philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, a much sharper Frenchman if you ask me, believed the opposite: that knowing we'll die takes away life's meaning. I've wrestled with those very same thoughts ever since I was a teenager, lying awake at night imagining what it would be like not to exist, while my classmates worried about school tests or a first date. Maybe it's because my parents never pushed religion onto me. Or was it the curse of above-average intelligence?
Gosh, just listen to me. Even as I'm dying, I can't help but be an insufferable twat. I wasn't special or anything, just curious enough to hurt my sanity. Always thinking about my mortality, sometimes I'd find beauty in a Zen koan or a Christian ritual, and for a moment I'd feel a flicker of hope. Then my damned analytical mind would tear it apart, leaving me hollow again. I'd start a new religious text thinking, "Maybe this time it will make sense," only to find myself cataloguing contradictions by page twelve. Yet part of me still yearns for those comforting lies, especially now as I bleed out on the sidewalk.
Even after realizing early on that life was devoid of meaning, I still tried to bamboozle myself into some sort of happiness. I rushed into marriage, twice in fact, each time believing I could find shelter from existential dread in someone else's arms. I'd wake up next to my wife, grateful for her warmth, yet suffocated by the truth that she, too, would be gone one day. Eventually they did, probably sensing that black hole inside me sucking the joy from everyone around.
In those rare moments I wasn't depressed, I picked up countless hobbies to distract myself, thinking they mattered even though I knew deep down they didn't. I learned various trade skills, practiced sports and martial arts. I traveled all over the world, studied numerous subjects, from natural and social sciences to humanities, but nothing ever stuck. After a month or a year, I'd quit before mastering any of them.
My career was a series of false starts as well. I'd take a new job, hoping it would bring some significance to my existence, but quit after a few months or a year at most. If a coworker annoyed me, I'd leave rather than face any discomfort. I envied their motivation though, but their dreams seemed so small to me. I convinced myself I'd never have time to do anything consequential, so I didn't even try.
If only I'd been born an elf, maybe life would have lasted long enough for me to get inspired by something. Or would that be worse? Centuries of this existential paralysis? No. I could have been an architect, building amazing cities one building at a time. Or I could have studied medicine and spent centuries researching the human body, maybe even found a way to beat death entirely. Make it a choice rather than inevitability so everyone could go on their own damn terms! I could have been an investigator searching for truth, a chef creating unique moments of joy, or a bloody marine biologist lost in the depths of the ocean. The prospect of choosing just one always felt impossibly limiting to me. Call me greedy, but I never wanted to make a single choice… I wanted to choose ALL OF THEM! Still, I suppose even an elf could get hit by a truck while reading a book at a bus stop.
I want more time. I need more time. My eyes close again, probably for good. I'm torn between a desperate prayer and a bitter laugh. I wish I could be wrong, but I know I'm not. Either way, I don't get to decide. At least when I'm gone, I won't have to deal with this insufferable inner monologue anymore. That's what I'll focus on now. Time to be free from pain and suffering.
"Congratulations on reaching the final stage of grief. Took you long enough!"
"Huh?"
I opened my eyes, and the darkness was completely gone. I was still lying down, but now I was in a totally white space. There were no walls, no floor, and no ceiling. Everything around me was just one white void.
"Huuuuuh?"
"Welcome back to The In-Between. I'm Jerome, your guide to the afterlife. Do you need a moment, or are you ready to proceed?"
"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH?"
——
Jerome waited patiently through all of my escapades, from me screaming "I was wrong! I was wrong!" on repeat and attempting cartwheels in the seemingly weightless void to me laughing so hard my cheeks hurt from smiling and eventually collapsing onto whatever passed for ground in this place.
His expression hovered between amusement and the look teachers give while waiting for a child to settle down in class. Which was all I could gather from him, really, given that he was clearly not corporeal. His form wasn't humanoid but rather, it was a beam of energy with a face attached. No body language to speak of, just a face. Plain and androgynous one at that, despite his masculine name, it was hard to put a gender or even race on that face. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and nodded for him to continue, though I couldn't stop my leg from bouncing with nervous energy.
Jerome's face flickered, like a projection on smoke. "Watch," he said. The beam that was his form dispersed for a moment, and in that white void surrounding me from all sides, I saw myself, but not entirely myself. A woman in medieval garb, hunched over manuscripts. Then a boy running through rice paddies. A soldier playing a flute near a bonfire. A beggar sitting on a busy street. The images flickered faster: dozens of lives, dozens of deaths.
"Those were all... me?" Jerome nodded. "Body and mind wither away. The soul continues."
"So I couldn't remember them? Feel what they felt?"
"You can try if you want to," Jerome suggested. I concentrated on the flute player, and suddenly, searing pain shot through my skull. I collapsed, gasping.
"Not yet," Jerome said softly. "Your soul is like a sapling trying to take in as much carbon dioxide as an ancient forest. The gas is there, but you don't have the capacity to absorb it all."
I rubbed my temples. "And if my 'sapling' grows larger?"
"Indeed, that is my role as a celestial being, to help nurture and develop souls. However, your soul is a stubborn one. Many times over, you were born into different life circumstances, socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds. Despite all that, most of your previous lives, you have struggled with the same existential dread you did in this life."
"Talk about being a slow learner..." I muttered, running my fingers through hair that felt both present and absent. "Not that I usually care to compare myself to others, but am I some kind of cosmic failure case?"
"Your situation isn't common, but it's not entirely unique either. Across the nearly infinite universes my kind looks after, there are all kinds of souls. Each one is unique, but they can still share common traits, so we've formulated specialized solutions, like a treatment plan for a rare medical condition."
Jerome's face showed a hint of amusement as suddenly a hand grew out of his "body." In an instant it formed, he tossed a coin, it flew in the air and landed neatly back into his open palm.
"What was that about?" I asked. "A coin flip will decide my future?"
"My apologies if this seems thoughtless to you, but for us, it's exciting and a rare break from the usual routine. Those treatment plans I mentioned, so far we have developed two that demonstrate equally promising results in your circumstances. We are not allowed to make that decision for you but we also believe you aren't fully qualified to make that decision either, so chance is introduced to facilitate the process. As it stands now, you'll be reincarnated in another world as you normally would, but this time you'll keep your recent memories to help you deal with fears of mortality which prevent your spiritual growth," he said. "But I should warn you, this isn't like those isekai stories people on Earth have been writing lately."
I raised an eyebrow. "No overpowered abilities? No system interface?"
"No infinite storage, no cheat powers, not even a translator," Jerome confirmed. "You'll have to learn the local languages the hard way. Though magic itself is quite real where you're going, and you will have affinity to use all types of magic if you choose to do so. Moreover, you will be put into a healthy newborn body of someone not limited by crushing poverty or local politics. Great many paths to choose from will be available to you."
I nodded, thinking it over. My knowledge from Earth would still give me an advantage in most social situations and even a fair amount of survival scenarios I could envision. Cheat powers are great in theory, but I doubt having them is good for growing that "sapling" of mine. Reincarnating as a slave or a noble wouldn't be ideal either as people born in such life circumstances rarely have the freedom to choose how they live. Jerome went on to explain that to smooth my transition, I'd stay male, and my memories would turn off during infancy.
"Thank goodness for small mercies," I sighed. "Well, actually, sorry, thank YOU! I'd rather not remember being squeezed through a birth canal or suckling at someone's breast." Starting as a toddler might sound like years of boring existence, but I will have to learn a new language from scratch and get acclimated to my new body and environment. This will also provide me with plenty of time to educate myself about the world and plan my future accordingly, which did not seem like a waste to me in the slightest.
"So what this place I am going to is like? What type of geography it has? Political landscape? Level of technological development?"
Jerome responded without skipping a beat. "The planet has a similar circumference to Earth. It has 3 moons. You'll notice the gravity is about 90% of what you are used to."
"That's... not what I asked."
"The dwarves of the northern mountains have a fascinating parliamentary system," he offered, then fell silent with a smirk.
"Ok, ok... I understand that it would take forever to give me all the details, and I suppose it will be more fun to learn such things on my own. With that said, could you at least tell me if I will need to worry about some sort of global catastrophe, demonic invasion or nuclear war?"
"No existential crises face this world," Jerome said, his projected face crinkling at the corners. "Not yet, anyway." The way his mouth twitched upward when he emphasized "yet" made my stomach drop. He was enjoying this, dangling just enough information to intrigue me without giving me too much to prepare.
Once I finally gave up on probing him any further, I respectfully bowed to Jerome, genuinely appreciating the time and special consideration he had given me. Though Jerome left the specifics vague, like what exactly makes a soul "grow"? What happens when it does, beyond accessing past memories? What will happen to me if it doesn't grow? And what was that "yet" part all about? But perhaps that's the point? Discovering these answers myself, rather than having them handed to me on a silver platter.
Knowing for sure that death isn't the end and that I'll return to the In-Between someday changes everything. No more existential paralysis. No more feeling like time is running out and everything I achieve is meaningless. With newfound excitement, I closed my eyes again, ready for this grand pilgrimage of sorts I am about to embark on.
——
Rain hammered the roof like a thousand tiny fists. Thunder cracked, and wooden beams groaned overhead. So much for being reincarnated on a beautiful sunny day. Darkness pressed against my eyes. The scent of milk and wool filled my nostrils. Something soft cradled my body, but a hard lump dug into my lower back. I tried to reach behind me, but my limbs refused to cooperate. Short, stubby things that barely responded to my commands. I rocked side to side, attempting to roll over when lightning flashed, illuminating the room.
GRAW-OOOOOM. In that instant, I glimpsed that what should have been my tiny baby hands were in fact tiny paws covered in russet fur, tipped with curved black claws that gleamed in the momentary light. My throat tightened. It hadn't even crossed my mind that I might come back as anything other than human. I was... something else. I couldn't reach behind me, but I could touch my head, and sure enough, my face had a protruding snout, my ears were in the wrong place, and they were quite pointy.
"Wooooah. What kind of furry's wet dream is this? Am I... a dog person now?" Of course, just like my tiny paws couldn't reach where I wanted them to, my tongue couldn't make any sounds except for baby grunts. Thinking about it now, that lump in my back... that's a tail, isn't it? I have a tail now. That is so ridiculous… BUT THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!