Oliver panicked. His eyes darted around the illuminated room. The walls tilted as he stood. He steadied himself with a hand on the bed. Along his neck, there was nothing—no wound, no pain. What the hell is going on?

The white reaper stepped forward, its long fingers clicking on the scythe as it gestured to a glowing panel that appeared in the air beside Oliver. Numbers, stats, and strange symbols floated on the translucent screen. His name, Oliver Brin, appeared in bold font, but the label read NPC beneath it.

"NPC?" Oliver read. "Like in a game?"

The robed figure loomed, and its voice rumbled. “You’re not responding to the new memories, and I can’t erase the old. You’re making my job very difficult.”

“Difficult?” Oliver said. “I just died. What are you talking about?”

“Lucky for you, when I encounter a challenging problem, I do what I’ve always done: give up. You can keep your memories for what they’re worth.”

“Thanks.” Oliver’s memories weren’t the fondest, but what would he be without them? “What about this NPC nonsense?”

The skeletal fingers moved on an unseen keyboard. “Huh?”

“I said what does it mean to be an NPC.”

“You are interactive scenery, a background character in a larger narrative, of which there are many.” The creature made a grand gesture with a sweeping arm. “Prepare yourself; you’re now entering a new realm. One where size determines your place in the hierarchy.” He dropped his arm. “Actually, it’s one of my least favorites.”

“What?” The room shifted. The walls dissolved, and Oliver fell. The wind rushed upward. Below, a forest rushed up as well. Giants blued with distance lumbered across the horizon. Then, he discovered the forests consisted of grass blades. He was tiny even compared to grass. He put his arms in front of his face to protect himself from the ground but landed without pain. I don’t have enough mass. Even a cat can survive a long fall, and I’m much smaller than a cat.

The grass stretched to the sky. Pebbles the size of boulders littered the ground. Everything was immense.

He crawled to his hands and knees and looked into a domed puddle of water. His reflection welcomed him, the familiarity comforting. It was the face he was used to, with a good jaw but a partial mask to cover his scars.

“How fascinating,” the reaper said. “You’ve gone haywire.”

Oliver realized he’d be crawling around and looking at everything. He stood and noticed he only had a leaf over his groin. “Do I just get tossed into another world every time I die?”

“Basically.”

“So this a game then? I don’t want to play.”

“And you can’t. You’re an NPC. Your job is to go about your life until a Player wants your assistance or wants to kill you.”

The grass creaked as the wind tossed the length above, and the gust didn’t stop. The wind howled and never died. Oliver stroked his chin in thought. I’m not an NPC. I can’t be. I think, therefore, I am, and all that shit.

A massive beetle, its black shell gleaming, crawled past him. It gave Oliver the chills. "This isn’t real," he said. He took a step back and tripped on a grain of sand. “I don’t like bugs.”

“In this world, beings start small—insignificant, like you are now. But the stronger they become, the larger they grow. Eventually, they rise from ants to giants. Titans, even.”

Oliver turned, his voice shaking. “I can go back to normal?”

The screen opened again. A page of what looked like stats appeared, but all were grayed out and inaccessible. The page turned red and returned to the home screen. Under his name, in bold letters, the label Non-Player Character remained.

“You are not one of them, but you can grow if it’s in your programming,” the reaper said, motioning toward a gap in the grass and a distant hill where a humanoid shape loomed large. The towering form radiated power.

Oliver stared at the giant but couldn’t digest what he was seeing. “If I’m just an NPC, then why am I here? Why do I have this screen? Why show me all this?”

The figure’s hollow eyes somehow held amusement. “I don’t have all the answers. You are an anomaly. You have access to the HUD. Theoretically, you have access to the things you’re not supposed to. But you’d have to exercise free will to make use of your situation, and that’s something you don’t have.”

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Oliver picked up a rock and threw it at the droplet of water. It bounced. “I chose to do that. I made the decision to throw the stone.”

“Did you, or did my comment spark a reaction you didn’t have control over.”

Oliver knew he was right. “I’ll prove it.” But how do you prove free will?

The hollow eyes watched him for a long while. Skeletal fingers tightened around the scythe. “You are smaller than the weakest Player. They will crush you underfoot without a second thought. I’ll see you soon when they destroy you.”

Oliver felt dread. How had he ended up here? He had gone from worrying about a failed date to contemplating life as an ant. The contrast was absurd, but the strangeness tantalized him. It’s like he was on acid. This is all one massive delusion.

He went through the screens, but most seemed glitchy. “There must be something here.”

The reaper said nothing.

As if responding to his plea, the screen flickered once again. This time, a notification appeared:

New Objective Unlocked: Survive the First Hunt.

Oliver’s stomach dropped. "First hunt? What the hell is that?"

"I think the system is running some bad code. You’re getting information designed for a player. I would ignore it."

“I can’t?” Oliver said.

“Survive if you can. The reaper walked a few paces and paused, hood turning over a shoulder. “Another NPC approaches. See you very soon.” The reaper faded with each step until no trace of him could be seen.

The ground shook and put Oliver on his ass. An earthquake?

The sky darkened as a giant turtle stepped into view. It had a man’s face. It must be a player character. The eyes gleamed with a killer's lust, and in a mutant arm, he gripped an enormous stick with a rock head tied with plant fibers like a makeshift hammer.

Oliver’s heart raced. He was no more than a bug to squash. He turned and sprinted, his tiny feet pounding against the dirt. Behind him, the earth shuttered as the player began moving huge legs.

He had no idea where he was going. As he ran, the screen blinked, displaying his status, his objectives, and a flicker of something new:

Class: Star Sorcerer (Inactive), Level: 0, Abilities: N/A

There was hope in that, even if only a tiny glimmer. If it kept changing, perhaps it would give him something useful.

He scrambled over a pile of roots, and the creature’s shadow fell over him. He glanced back adn saw it catching up. He darted through a part in the grass, his tiny legs pumping. He pictured the hammer smashing him and flattening him like a cartoon character. Each crashing footstep prodded him onward, making it hard to keep his balance. The grass whipped past, and he heard the giant's low, guttural laugh.

“Run, little man. Run, run, run.”

But the ground was uneven. His foot caught, and he stumbled forward. His body flipped and rolled down a steep incline. He tried to catch himself but helpt falling. Rocks and dirt flew as he slid, finally landing with a thud in a crevice. The air was cool, and shadows stretched over the bed of moss under him, creating camouflage.

The turtle thundered by and didn’t notice him. It called to him, but the sound grew distant.

He groaned and pushed himself up to his hands and knees, shaken but alive.

Just as he caught his breath, something fluttered nearby, a rhythmic buzzing. He turned his head slowly, and there she was—a girl, a ladybug girl. Her glossy red wings with black spots caught the dim light, and she looked at him with wide, curious eyes—eyes a smidge too far apart but somehow pleasing. Her face was youthful, delicate, and framed by shiny black hair. Where a shell did not cover her, she was slim. She tilted her head, watching him with a warm smile.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice playful, almost teasing. Her wings twitched as she spoke. "Running like that... trying so hard. Why?"

Oliver stammered, taken aback by her question. I want to survive. It’s instinct, of course. “I don’t know.”

“She tilted her head.”

Was he flustered by a girl the size of an ant? She’s a bug, damn it, why am I staring at her. “I was running from a giant,” he said, still catching his breath, “and trying not to get crushed by his hammer.” He gestured vaguely to the world above. “Just surviving, you know.”

She leaned in closer, and the dark pools of her eyes filled with interest. “Surviving, huh? You know, I wouldn’t mind being squashed,” She cupped her chin as if amused by the concept of being destroyed by a giant.

He blinked, unsure how to respond to that. “Uh, what?”

She giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never seen anyone try as hard as you do. Running, scrambling, falling down holes. There’s something about it that’s…” Her eyes flicked up and down his small form, “fascinating.”

He brushed the dirt from his sleeves. “It seems I’ve fascinated a lot of people lately who want to kill me. I won’t let that happen if I can help it. Isn't that normal?"

The ladybug girl shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “I don’t know. My parents pushed me from the leaf the day the spider came. I saw them back away, but it just took them.”

He glanced nervously at the canyon walls, half expecting the giant to show up and peer down at them. “I’m sorry.” What do you say to a thing like that? That’s fucking awful.

She buzzed her wings. “Maybe that’s what makes you so interesting. You want to live more than anything else. You were jumping and running.”

“I’m Oliver Brin. What’s your name?”

She laughed, a sound like tiny bells, and held out her hand. “Zaisy. Come on, Mister Oliver. Let’s survive something.”

He didn’t think she understood the idea of not wanting to die, but he followed beside the hum of her wings across a damp lowland. He hesitated when they reached a pond, but she pulled him onto the water. The sky reflection stretched as his feet pushed into the pond but supported his weight.

He thought that maybe surviving this strange world wouldn’t be so bad if he could walk on water.