The familiar orchestra of medical devices gradually fades into the distance as a comforting darkness envelops me. I relax into oblivion, knowing that this is the end. I’m dead.

Finally.

No more pain. No more tests. No more sobbing parents futilely trying to hide their tears from me out in the hallway. I’ve been ready to rest for a long time now.

Only… nothing really seems to be ending.

I peek one eye open. Then the other. An azure sky fills my vision as painfully white clouds drift overhead like cotton candy. Wind ruffles my hair, sending goosebumps racing across my skin. The air smells of grass and earth and fresh rain.

Well. That’s not supposed to be in a hospital room.

I breathe in the sweet air, filling my lungs until they burn, fuller than I could ever manage before, and it feels like I’m taking a breath for the first time.

[New authority recognized,] a voice says. [Populating stats. Processing role.]

“Hello?”

Searching for the source of the voice, I sit up—and it’s effortless. It’s easy. Like it should be. I sweep my hand through the damp grass, reveling in the soft, cool sensation.

I’m alive. And not just alive, but healthy.

Laughter bubbles up out of me. How is this possible? Where even am I? I push myself to my feet, staggering as I stand too fast, and I laugh at myself again, giddy with excitement. I can’t believe this. But it’s real. It’s really real.

I run my hands over my body: two legs, two arms, all the standard female parts. I’m wearing some simple clothes instead of a hospital gown, which pleases me almost as much as having a fully functioning body. My hair is long and black and blowing annoyingly into my mouth and eyes. Black is new: it was brown before. I comb it out of my face, tucking it behind my ears. My ears feel a little different, too. The shape’s not quite right. And when I touch my face, the nose feels smaller, the cheekbones less pointy—even my teeth feel slightly off. My skin appears just as pale and sun-phobic as ever, but it’s clear this body I’ve woken up in is not the body I died in.

Should that weird me out? Maybe. But I didn’t particularly like that body, and it certainly hadn’t liked me. Good riddance.

“I’m alive!” I shout at the top of my lungs, just because I can, just because I have the strength to. Whooping, I pump my fists in the air, spinning in a circle to take in my surroundings. The sun is toward one horizon, a forest opposite. Otherwise, I seem to be alone in this grassy, beautiful, amazing field.

[Designation complete,] the voice says.

I pause. Maybe not so alone after all. Though there’s definitely no one around here but me. In fact, the voice doesn’t seem to be coming from any direction in particular. Like it’s all in my head.

“Hello?” I say again. My voice sounds a little different, too. Lower, and warmer, and louder. “Who are you?”

[This interface is a clone of the interface that has been designated Echo,] the faintly-feminine voice says.

“Uh, Echo, then,” I say. “Why are you in my head?”

None of this should be making any sense. It certainly doesn’t feel like the afterlife—but I also know it’s not a dream. It’s all too real and vivid—and my dreams are only full of pain and needles and shadows, anyway. An Echo in my head is exactly the sort of thing I should be questioning, but instead it feels as natural as the sunlight.

[This interface is designed to provide audiovisual guidance to users who fulfill the baseline requirements,] Echo says. [Activate stats?]

“Um. Sure?” I say.

A display of words and numbers appears in front of me.

[Name: Sally]

[Species: Human]

[Class: N/A]

[Level: 10]

[Attack: 20]

[HP: 90/90]

[Mana: 10/10]

[Role: Chef]

“Whoa!” I take a surprised step back, and the words float with me. I turn my head from side to side, and they stay within my field of vision. I mentally will them away, and they vanish. “Wait!” I say. “Bring them back!”

The words reappear. Excitement bubbles up my chest. No way. No way! It’s just like a videogame! I really have a stats interface of my own? This is totally wild!

“Kind of short, though,” I say. “Is this really it? You don’t even have my last name.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

[The current display is truncated as a result of a previous user’s request,] Echo says.

Previous user, huh? That’s interesting. “Well, can you give me more?” I ask.

[Affirmative.]

My vision explodes with words and numbers. [Gender: Female. Age: 18. Speed: 10. Weight Class: Medium.] I stumble back, hardly able to see any of my surroundings as text scrolls through my line of sight. No wonder someone else pared it down to the basics.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” I say. “Set it back to the default for now. I can tailor it to my liking later.”

[Affirmative,] Echo says, and most of the numbers vanish.

Just these few lines are already enough to chew on. I’m a human, which is no surprise. Level 10 sounds like some kind of default noob level, which is fair. Still need to get a class: that should be exciting. Mana indicates I should be able to do magic: the rest seem pretty basic.

Except that Role stat.

“Echo, what does it mean my role is Chef?” I ask.

[The Chef role requires the user to engage in cooking, baking, or elements of food preparation on a daily basis.]

Kind of obvious, I guess. “So, what, it’s like my job? Do I get paid if I do my role?”

[Negative,] Echo says.

“Will it level me up?”

[Negative.]

“Do I get bonus items? Loot boxes? Unlock magic abilities?”

[Negative.]

I throw my hands in the air, exasperated. “Then what’s the point?”

[The role requires that you meet the requirements of the role.]

“Created by the Department of Redundancy Department,” I mutter. Well that seems pretty useless. “What happens if I don’t meet the requirements of my role?” I ask.

[Failure to operate within expected parameters would result in strain on the system-user interface.]

Cool. Super helpful.

A grin spreads over my face. Honestly, though, who cares? If I have to slap some ham and cheddar on a slice of bread each day as payment for being reincarnated with magic and a videogame interface, count me in! This is real, and I’m not dead, and there’s a world of possibilities ahead of me.

My eyes prickle with tears. I’m so glad I’m here, it hurts. An urge to do something wells up inside me. To jump, to climb a tree, to dive into a river. The excitement is building in me like an expanding balloon, until—pop! I take off running.

My boots pound against the ground, sending me racing across the field. Laughter bursts from my mouth as I run, exhilaration pumping through my veins, wind ripping tears from my eyes. When was the last time I was able to run? The last time I felt so free and strong and alive? All those days spent in my bed, dreaming of being whisked away to different lands, with a new body and a better life—and now it’s real! I don’t know how, but it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I was given a fresh start, and I’m not going to waste a second of it.

I skid to a halt, breathing hard, my lungs burning in the best way. The land slopes down into a valley before me. A lake shimmers like a sapphire at the bottom of the basin, birds speckling the air as they spiral down to the water. Forests nestle around the vista on every side but mine, and a stream lazily winds out from the woods to spill into the lake before snaking away again in the opposite direction.

“Hey Echo, have I got supplies or anything?” I ask. “An inventory?”

[The user has no items in their inventory,] Echo says.

My heart leaps. “I have an inventory then?” Awesome. Inventories are broken as fuck. “How do I access it?” Even as I ask, however, a display appears in my vision.

[Inventory: 0/1]

What. Are you kidding me? “It only has one slot?”

[Affirmative.]

“What the hell?” There’s got to be an explanation. Maybe it’s because I’m still a noob. “Can I upgrade it?”

[Negative,] Echo says.

“What?! Rip off!” I sigh. No, no, beggars can’t be choosers. One inventory space is better than none—even if it seems pretty useless. But I have to look on the bright side. I’m sure I’ll unlock a lot of sweet spells soon anyway that will make up for it.

“Well, guess I’ll be needing supplies,” I say aloud, just because I can, just because it feels great for every word spoken to feel effortless. “Water seems like a good place to start. And if you get lost, aren’t you supposed to follow the river, because they’re supposed to lead to civilization? I think I read that in a book somewhere. Right, Echo?”

[Query unrecognized.]

“I’m not really asking you a question, I’m just talking to you,” I say, starting down the hill. “If it sounds like I’m rambling, you can just say ‘Okay, Sal.’”

[Affirmative,] Echo says.

“Close enough.”

I stroll down the hill, humming a happy nonsensical tune. Where should I even start once I get into town? I bet they have adventure guilds or something. That’s what they had in the shows I watched. Since I’m starting out with what appear to be pretty basic stats, and no special abilities that I’m aware of, I’ll probably have to do a lot of grinding. Do creatures here drop loot? Well, either way, I’ll need to get some money and a weapon.

The birds I’d seen earlier caw in alarm and take flight as I approach the lake. I’ve never seen birds like them before: green feathers and bright yellow beaks, with long tails like a peacock. I watch them for a moment before crouching down at the bank to splash some water on my face and take a few tentative sips. Hopefully I won’t get sick from this, but it’s better than getting dehydrated.

The birds continue to caw angrily at me—I guess they don’t like that I disrupted their little oasis—and then take off over the forest. Without their clamor it’s suddenly quiet, and I feel very alone.

My heart stings as Mom and Dad flash through my mind. If I really died back there, then they’re probably mourning me by now. I wish I could tell them I’m alright. I’m in a better place—literally. And now they can finally move on with their lives. They don’t have to cater every minute of every day around me anymore. They can be happy again.

I slap my hands against my cheeks, trying to snap myself out of it. Come on, I can’t get all sentimental now. Not when things are finally looking up. I stand back up and force a smile on my face. It’s time for adventure! I plant my hands on my hips, surveying the two streams that branch out from the lake.

“Now, if I were a city, which direction would I be in?”

As I’m considering this, a distant rumble of thunder rolls over the hills. I squint toward the sky, but the few scant fluffy clouds don’t look like rainstorms. And even more strange, the sound seems to be getting louder.

The lake ripples, and the ground beneath my feet starts to shake.

“Uh oh,” I say, looking around. “Um, Echo? Any insights? I don’t suppose this is, like, a small earthquake or something.”

[Negative,] Echo says to my complete lack of surprise. The noise crescendos into thundering hoofbeats, and at the same time, a herd of creatures pours over the lip of the valley and begins racing right toward me. [The sound appears to belong to a stampede of pebblebacks.]

“Fantastic,” I say, taking a step back toward the lake. I can’t make out what the creatures look like at this distance, but they’re big, there’s a lot of them, and they’re coming my way very fast. There’s not enough time to run to the forest or climb a tree. And there’s nothing out here to hide behind. I take another step back, and my boot splashes into the lake. When was the last time I took swimming lessons? When I was a little kid?

“You think they can swim?” I ask, ignoring the soul-sucking sensation of wet socks as I retreat into the lake.

[Affirmative,] Echo says.

Great.

“I bet they can’t swim better than me, though,” I say, hoping to will that truth into existence.

[The user’s Swimming skill is level 1,] Echo says.

“Well,” I say as the wall of creatures races toward me, threatening to put an end to my rather brief second shot at life. “Crap.”