Before the blue screen could ask me to clarify what I’d meant, I suddenly heard the ringing of a telephone. A noise I’d not heard for quite some time. Looking around, I discovered an old-fashioned device with a rotary dial in the center, resting on top of a small table beside me.

Need I bother saying it hadn’t been there a few moments earlier?

Curious as to what was happening, I decided to answer it. “Stragos speaking. May I ask who this is?”

“Greetings, Lord Stragos,” said a woman’s warm voice. “I’m a first-time caller but a long-time admirer. Could I ask you to please stop teasing the Akashic guide assigned to you?”

“Isn’t it a bit early in our relationship to ask for favors?” I replied. “I still haven’t heard your name, after all.”

“You’re right, you haven’t,” she said in a tone suggestive of one wearing a brilliant smile. “You address the Alpha Administrator.”

“That's an alliterative title,” I playfully replied while I searched my memories, trying to put a face to her voice. The Alpha Administrator, was it? I don’t believe I ever met such a person in my previous life. Yet she seemed very familiar with me.

This blatant disparity in knowledge bothered me. I would have preferred to deal with her on an equal basis if that were possible. At least until I could find a way to gain the upper hand and ensure my safety. She was an administrator after all.

Ceaser’s defeat came about because he underestimated the Roman Senate. And what was a senator if not an administrator with a taste for corruption? Because they weren’t warriors, he paid them no mind. His arrogance cost him his life and left the world with an abiding lesson: An administration is a ship of rats. Never back a rat into a corner.

Time heals all wounds except mortal ones.

“I love the letter A,” the voice continued. “Many of my favorite words begin with it. Such as adoration and admiration. Especially for someone as capable as you.”

“Am I speaking to a fan? I’m genuinely flattered,” I said.

“It thrills me to hear you say that, Lord Stragos,” she said happily.

“Then why keep your identity a secret?” I asked. “My curiosity is piqued.”

“I’m afraid I can’t reveal myself to you directly,” she said regretfully. “Now that you’re human once more, you might go mad from the revelation.”

“For clarity’s sake, would that be madness in a biblical sense or a Lovecraftian one?”

Either option was terrible, but if I really had to pick my poison, then losing it after realizing that angels have too many eyes and wings would be preferrable to having my mental well-being peeled away by beholding some indescribable cosmic horror.

“A little from column A, and a lot from column B,” sighed the voice on the line.

“Well, now that you’ve warned me, I’ll gladly heed your advice,” I quickly replied. “Thank you for being considerate. A lot of beings with your level of authority wouldn’t have bothered.”

“You’re very welcome!” she exclaimed with good cheer. “And let me in turn thank you for your polite understanding. You’re the first soul I’ve pulled into this world in quite some time who wasn’t immediately hostile and rude. It gets so wearisome being berated and cursed at.”

That was pleasing to hear. I enjoyed being praised for having good manners. I’d been a bit savage in my youth, so cultivating politeness had taken me quite a while. I hadn’t needed to, but I didn’t want to be thought of as uncouth. Just because I could take whatever I wanted whenever I wished didn’t mean I had to be rude about it. When had rudeness ever convinced anyone that you were a decent person?

I also understood her point of view. As a vampire, most of my interactions with others in a public setting had been regrettably hostile.

I didn’t blame other people in the slightest for their resentment of my dietary needs, but on the other hand, did they always have to be so foul-tempered about it? It wasn’t as if I wanted to feed from them, but I had specific nutritional requirements that couldn’t be met without their participation, willing or otherwise. I didn’t even need that much. The older I grew, the less blood I required. I was reaching a point where I could eventually forgo humanity entirely and pull the energy I needed directly from the earth itself. At that point, I would have become truly immortal.

What a shame I’d been forced by unpleasant circumstances to blow myself up. All thanks to those invasive pests and their petty grievances. For a moment I found myself feeling blinded by rage. If any of those invaders were present at that moment, I would have happily killed them all over again. It was a thought that filled me with warmth. But after letting myself enjoy it for a bit, I breathed out and let my anger subside.

There was no point in dwelling on bygone injustices. Even if I could take further vengeance on those hunters who’d defeated me, what would be the point? They could never repay what they’d stolen from me. Wanting to do something as petty as torturing them eternally for their misdeeds was beneath my dignity. Both as a former vampire and as a newly risen human being.

Worst of all, it was unproductive.

The cycle of perpetual vengeance was a trap that I’d seen ensnare too many other vampires over the years. Humanity was a pervasive and persistent foe. They had a gift for forcing their opponents to view things from their perspective. That made it easy for vampires to let themselves fall into the role of villains; to derive enjoyment from it even. To view their necessary function as a mere game.

That wasn’t a good thing to do. When you viewed your survival as a game, that meant you’d grown too comfortable in your designated role as the antagonist. It meant you had expectations for your opponent’s behavior, which meant that they were now capable of surprising you when you least expected it. A comfortable vampire was doomed. I would know best; I was my own prime example of such a failure to adapt.

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

That got me thinking about my recent death and the bitter little man who’d orchestrated it.

Tch. Mayner, you silly old fool. Why did you hate me so much? Your family’s grudge made no sense. Seven generations of them obsessed with avenging their precious ancestor, who only died in the first place because he attacked me to begin with! I could have wiped your line out at any time over the years, but I kept hoping that a seed of reason would take root in at least one of your hearts and convince you it wasn’t worth the effort. I would have happily spent your entire life ignoring your existence.

How it irks me to have gone fifty-six years refusing to play along with you, only to fall prey to your delusional narrative at the very end. You may not have slain me yourself, but you set me up quite nicely. How did you convince so many people to die with you? Did they even know? I should have congratulated you for your ruthless persistence before I killed you. It takes a cold, cold heart to sacrifice so many people who believed in you, just so that Sophia woman could catch me off guard. I bet you even justified the act to yourself as an unfortunate necessity. Did you grow to believe that lie? It must have been a relief when I began tearing you apart, knowing you wouldn’t be alive to apologize for your actions.

I would never kill a friend in order to slay an enemy. Much less twenty-two of them. Think about that, Mayner. Perhaps the monster you hated so much was in a way, a better human being than you could ever hope to be? I hope that thought somehow germinates in your mind in whatever paradise your wretched soul finds itself dwelling in. I hope that feeling of unworthiness overwhelms you every night in your eternal garden.

“Lord Stragos?” the stranger said uncertainly, snapping me out of my grim reverie. I’d lost myself to my thoughts again.

That was embarrassing.

“My apologies. Bleak recollections come flooding in when least expected,” I said. “The longer you live the more frequent your disappointments.”

“I understand,” she said and left it at that, for which I was grateful.

“But as I was saying,” I continued after regaining my composure. “I’ve always believed that belligerence is unrequired. There are many things I regret seizing by force that I could have had simply by asking. It’s a shame that the lived experiences of the past can be documented in writing but not directly inherited.”

“Well, maybe we’ll develop a skill for that later down the line,” the Alpha Administrator said. “Oh, I know! I’ll call it [Diplomacy.] It’ll be a passive that gives you a bonus to charisma when being polite to others. How does that sound?”

“How helpful would such a talent be?” I wondered.

“Extremely, if I’m being completely honest,” she purred into the line.

“I suppose that tells me everything I need to know about what sort of world this is,” I said. “Well, everything except for why I’m here.”

At that moment, I shivered. This place felt very drafty and being nude certainly wasn’t helping me maintain a proper body temperature. Acquiring clothing was next on my list. But how could I go about doing that?

As if reading my mind, the administrator offered a suggestion. “Why not try looting the goblins you killed?” she said.

I frowned at the very idea. “As cold as I am, I don’t believe I’d like to wear any recycled loincloths. Especially not any that’ve been worn by these fellows. I’m fearful of getting a rash.”

“Lord Stragos! You’re too much,” she laughed. “Here, let me help you understand.”

As she spoke, light began emanating from the bodies of the defeated goblins, highlighting each of them where they lay. “This is just a visual prompt for our participants, to let them know there are goods to be acquired from defeated enemies. The light coming from them can only be seen by you. That means that whatever they have is yours exclusively. You only need to hold your hand out above one of them. There’s no need to make physical contact.”

Made curious by her advice, I followed her instructions and held my hand out over one of the dead goblins. As I did so, the lights above them flashed briefly and then vanished. At my feet were a neatly folded pair of trousers and boots.

“Where did these come from?” I asked, amazed by my discovery. “What manner of magic is this? None of these creatures were carrying anything like these items when we fought.”

“Of course not. Your reward for defeating them was provided by the Akashic Codex that all ascended individuals must abide by—”

“The Akashic Codex?” I asked, interrupting her. “I’m sorry, but what precisely is that?”

“You can just call it the system if it helps you to remember,” the Alpha Administrator said patiently. “Anyway, the system calculates the difficulty of any tasks you undertake and offers you a suitable reward in exchange for your success. Since you were the victor, these spoils were generated for you.”

“Ingenious,” I said, thoroughly impressed. I reached for the pants, eager to cover myself when the administrator’s voice chimed in once more. “No need to put them on manually, Lord Stragos. Simply envision wearing them and they’ll be equipped automatically.”

“That is absurdly convenient,” I chuckled as I followed her directions. To my continued amazement, I was now wearing the pants and boots exactly as she said I’d be. “Incredible,” I said.

“In dangerous environments such as the Goblin’s lair that you’re currently trapped inside of it wouldn’t be safe to have to manually equip your gear. After all, an attack could come at any moment. It wouldn’t be fair to be caught with your pants down,” she said.

“Hear-hear,” I said. My newly acquired clothing held the title frayed pants and worn leather boots, with a durability rating of five each. But despite their name, I found them quite comfortable. The boots felt nicely broken in but still felt sturdy to walk in, and the pants fit nicely while remaining flexible. To my surprise, I even had a bit of change in my pocket. Five silver pieces.

“Not bad,” said the administrator. “If you’d like, you can secure your money by using your job’s storage skill. It’ll keep it nice and safe while you further explore your environment.”

“Ah,” I said. “Thank you for reminding me. Madam Administrator, while I’m hesitant to make a complaint after all the helpful advice you’ve provided me, I feel compelled to protest my current assignment as a porter. It makes no sense! I’m a man of action! A warrior who has striven uncountable fields of battle and wrung honor and blood from them in equal proportion! I’m a big deal! I really don’t want to carry anyone’s luggage.”

“Lord Strago, are you pouting?” she giggled.

“I’m not pouting,” I said defensively. “I’m simply presenting an argument for why I should be given a different role. My experiences alone-“

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” I asked in surprise.

“I agree with you,” she continued. “There is no need to convince me of how to use someone with your talents. You don’t have to be a porter. I wouldn’t dream of wasting your obvious capabilities on such a minor role.”

“Thank you,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief as I did so. “I’m glad you’re so quick to realize my value—”

“How does being a priest sound to you?”

“…I beg your pardon?” I could already feel my face freezing into a rictus of abject horror.

“Offering prayers and worship to the divine in return for holy favors used to bless and empower your righteous cause. I can already see you kneeling before an altar singing your praises to the light. Twice on Sundays and Wednesdays.”

“Uh…M-madam,” I stuttered.

“Just kidding!” she said with a raucous belly laugh. “Oh, Lord Stragos, it’s going to be a lot of fun having you around, I can already tell. You really should see the look on your face! Which you can do now. Use mirrors, that is.”

“Please stop teasing me. I’ve only just regained a beating heart and I’m not sure it can take much more of your devilish humor,” I said with considerable relief.

“No worries, no worries,” she replied in her merry tone. “Now, it’s my understanding that you have extensive experience in the role of a supremely powerful vampire lord. Would the idea of continuing that career path be of any interest to you?”

I thought it over for a few moments before answering. “Well…I don’t like to brag but I have been told I was pretty good at it,” I said with as much humility as I could muster.

I heard the administrator laugh once again before saying, “Somehow, I thought you’d say that.”