"Where am I?" Lucas woke up sprawled on the floor. Everything was incredibly dark, and his body felt heavy.
"Welcome, Dr. Kerrald. Though, your visit was not expected yet." A woman's voice spoke from somewhere above him, making him look up. His eyes were still not used to the darkness, but he saw a woman. She was seated on a throne made of crystal.
"What happened? Where am I?" he asked, kneeling, before standing up, still feeling a bit of discomfort.
"Well, what happened is—"
"The surgery! I was in the middle of a heart transplant! What happened to my patient? Why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong? Is she alive?"
"Ahem," the woman cleared her throat loudly, making him stop asking questions and look at her. "Like I was saying. What happened is, you died."
"I… died?" he repeated her words, confused.
"Putting it simply. You, Dr. Kerrald, instead of going home after your 36 hour shift, decided to go and make another highly demanding surgery."
"I had no choice! Had I not done it, that kid would've died. There was nobody else in the hospital who could do it," he spoke as if it were a plea, justifying his actions.
"Nobody here is questioning your motives, Dr. Kerrald. I am just telling you what happened. It would be nice if you could wait for me to finish before interrupting me." The woman spoke without any hint of emotion, making him question whether she was even human.
"I apologize, please continue," He lowered his head, his eyes now used to the darkness. He noticed he was wearing exactly what he was before dying. His feet were covered in a thin white protection, over his worn-out jogging shoes he liked wearing for long shifts because of how comfortable they were. He had them for almost a decade, and never found a better pair, so he just kept using them every day. His clothes were covered by a blue surgical gown, but he could still see his jeans beneath. His hands wore the green gloves he used during surgery, still covered in blood. This was very much real. This wasn't a dream.
"After another twelve hours in the Operation Room, as soon as the bypass was turned off, you collapsed on the floor. Your patient was already stable, and your intern closed her up. The surgery was a huge success, and the six year-old girl will live to see another day."
"Good to hear," he muttered, relieved, relaxing a lot.
"You had suffered a heart attack from sleep deprivation. You were resuscitated a total of eight times, before your colleagues called your time of death. You were only forty five. No wife, no children, no family left aside from a few cousins and distant half-sisters. You lived a lonely life, despite being surrounded by fame, money and women. You had your fun, but lived responsibly. You could've taken a lot of money, but instead chose to work at a public hospital, helping those in need. Your precocious death is something even the gods themselves felt was a loss to humanity as a whole. And you, despite knowing you are dead, feeling relieved that your patient survived, is proof that you had no hidden motives behind your actions, other than doing your very best."
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"I feel you turned from telling me events to flattering me. Every time someone did this, it was because they needed something from me. It's okay, I'll listen to whatever you want." Lucas shrugged, waiting for the important bit.
"There's a world called Omicron, there, humanity has progressed similarly to your Earth, all the way until the early middle ages. But there's a little difference between the two, Omicron has magic," the woman seemingly sidetracked, talking about something completely different.
"I don't understand what this has to do with me," he said, confused, as he pulled the bloody gloves off with one swift motion, putting them on the floor next to him, and seeing them magically disappear.
"You see, Omicron suffers from everything your word used to. Famine, wars, disease, it suffers from all of those despite magic, and the gods are not sure why. For this reason, considering how unfair your early death was, we decided to give you another chance in that world."
"Wait, you're telling me I'll get to live once again? Like, another life?" Lucas' eyes shone, as he recalled all his regrets from not living life to its fullest.
"Yes. Not only that, you will recall your previous life in its entirety, although a lot of your knowledge won't be useful there."
"Before anything else, if it's not asking too much, just who are you?" he asked the woman sitting on the crystal throne.
"Me? I am a goddess. But I am, before anything else, a messenger of the gods. Your people would call me an angel. I am a god, like all the others, but my divinity is in connecting people to the gods, and enacting our collective will."
"I see… It's a pleasure being in the presence of such a being," he dropped to one knee, extending his arms while putting his palms up.
"This is unnecessary. After all, I invited you here. Be at ease," she said, making him stand up again, this time even more curious. "Although we cannot bestow you anything unreasonable, you will have the gods' favor. This will show in your life in very indirect ways, but we hope it will help you in your trajectory." she said, peaking his interest.
"You said something about magic, can I know more about it?" he asked, wanting to at least have a head start.
"Magic is the power of knowledge materialized. Those who understand, and believe, can use Mana, the divine essence in the air, to create a reaction in the world. In Omicron, magic is divided in elements, but the most important magic is Divine Magic. It's basically that which cannot be explained by elements alone, like Healing, Alchemy and Defensive Magic. You will know more about the elements and magic when you reincarnate, as I am not a specialist. After all, I am just a messenger."
As she finished the sentence, a bright ray illuminated the place they were in, blinding him.
"I am sorry, it seems our time together has ended. I hope you live a fulfilling life this time, and bring improvement to humanity as a whole," her words echoed in his mind, as he felt his body disappear into light.