Piper had earned enough points for daily break room privileges, though "daily" was a relative term in a place where time meant nothing. Today (was it today?), she found Maya spinning slowly in a chair that definitely hadn't been there yesterday, her outfit cycling through every style of business attire from the past century.

"Have you noticed," Piper asked, dropping into a chair that materialized just as she reached for it, "that we never see new souls arriving?"

Maya's outfit settled briefly on a 1980s power suit, complete with shoulder pads that could weaponize a conga line. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, people die every day, right? So where are all the new arrivals? I've been here for..." Piper waved her hand vaguely. "However long, and I've never seen anyone fresh off the mortal coil except in my files."

Wei flickered into existence nearby, his form more transparent than usual. "Perhaps we exist in multiple temporal streams simultaneously, processing souls across all possible timelines—"

"Not now, Wei," Maya and Piper said in unison.

Fatima appeared, her galaxy-containing hijab spinning slower than usual. "You're asking good questions, Piper. Better than when you first arrived and just wanted to know if you could still watch Netflix."

"Hey, streaming withdrawal is a serious condition," Piper protested, but her heart wasn't in it. She'd stopped missing Netflix somewhere around her five hundredth soul processing. Or maybe her thousandth. Time was—

"If you say 'time is meaningless in the afterlife,' I will throw this coffee at you," Maya warned. "Even though we don't actually need to drink it. And it's not actually coffee."

Piper stared at her own cup, which had appeared at some point. "What is it then?"

"The essence of comfort," Fatima said, just as Wei said "A quantum projection of remembered satisfaction," and Maya said "Probably cats messing with us."

They all looked at each other.

"Speaking of cats," Piper began, but Grim chose that moment to appear on the break room table, wearing what appeared to be a tiny bow tie.

"That's new," she told him. He responded by knocking over her not-coffee, which somehow both spilled and didn't spill simultaneously.

"You know," Piper said, watching the coffee exist in a state of quantum uncertainty, "I've been thinking about my sister."

The room went quiet. Even Wei solidified slightly.

"Sarah," Piper said, and was surprised to find the name came easily now. "I've been thinking about how many points I lost because I couldn't accept her truth. Couldn't accept that her truth didn't match my... categories."

Maya's outfit settled into something soft and comforting. "And?"

"And I keep processing all these souls who earned massive points for helping others be their authentic selves. For choosing love over certainty. For..." She gestured at her quantum coffee puddle. "For accepting that sometimes things can be two seemingly contradictory things at once."

"Like a liquid that is simultaneously spilled and not spilled?" Wei suggested.

"Exactly!" Piper pointed at him. "Like how Sarah is both my sibling and a completely different person than the one I grew up with. Both familiar and new. Both—"

"Both/and, not either/or," Fatima said softly. The stars in her hijab twinkled.

"Yes!" Piper leaned forward. "And I kept trying to make it either/or. Either she was my brother or she was a stranger. Either she was right or I was. Either/or. Black and white. No room for... for..."

"For quantum superposition?" Wei offered.

"For truth," Piper finished. "Her truth. Which didn't have to negate my truth, except I made it do that. I made it a battle instead of a... a..."

"A both/and," Fatima repeated.

Grim purred, and Piper noticed her point total tick up slightly.

"But that's not even the weirdest part," she continued. "The weirdest part is that it took dying and processing thousands of souls to understand something my cat apparently knew all along." She squinted at Grim. "You never cared what gender Sarah was, did you? You loved her just the same."

The cat began grooming himself with an air of 'obviously.'

"Cats," Maya said, her outfit settling into something that looked suspiciously like a cat lady's robe covered in paw prints, "are excellent judges of character."

"But terrible at filing," Piper muttered, thinking of all the times Grim had knocked over her carefully sorted papers.

Or had he?

She thought about those moments. How the scattered papers had often revealed patterns she wouldn't have noticed otherwise. How each seemingly random act of feline chaos had led to some new understanding.

"Huh," she said softly.

Grim's bow tie sparkled slightly.

"You're beginning to see," Fatima said.

"See what?"

But when she looked up, the break room was empty. Even her quantum coffee had vanished.

Only Grim remained, his bow tie now shifting colors in a way that hurt her eyes if she looked at it too directly. He blinked at her slowly, then vanished, leaving behind a single file on the table.

Piper picked it up, already knowing whose name she would see on the label.

"Sarah Elizabeth Reilly," she read aloud. "Okay, universe. I get the hint."

Sarah's file glowed in Piper's hands, but instead of dissolving into memories like the other files had, it remained stubbornly closed.

"What gives?" Piper demanded. "I've processed thousands of souls. Why can't I—"

"Because you're not ready to process her file," Maya said, reappearing in what looked like a therapist's cardigan. "You're ready to process your own."

"My own? But I'm dead. I'm—"

The world shifted. Not the usual dissolve into someone else's memories, but a crystallization of her own. She saw herself at eight years old, teaching four-year-old Parker to tie shoes. At twelve, defending her little brother from bullies. At sixteen, helping him with algebra homework.

Then Sarah at eighteen, trying to talk to her. "I need to tell you something, Piper. Something I've known for a long time..."

Piper had walked away. Had kept walking away. Every phone call. Every letter. Every attempt at connection.

The memories kept coming, faster now. Each choice point illuminated with painful clarity:

Minus 50 points: Returning Sarah's Christmas card unopened. Minus 75 points: Blocking her number after she called about the wedding. Minus 100 points: Telling their mother "I don't have a sister."

But then, other moments: Plus 25 points: Keeping Sarah's childhood photos even while denying her present. Plus 50 points: Defending her to their uncle's slurs, even while rejecting her identity. Plus 100 points: Crying alone at night, missing her sibling while refusing to accept her sister.

"Oh," Piper breathed. "Oh, I get it now. I was doing the same thing those souls in rehabilitation were doing. Choosing certainty over love. Choosing to be right over being kind. Choosing—"

"Fear over truth," Fatima finished, her hijab's galaxy swirling faster.

"I was so scared," Piper whispered. "Scared that if Sarah could change something I thought was unchangeable, then nothing was certain. Nothing was fixed. The whole world could just... shift."

"Like quantum uncertainty," Wei offered, flickering sympathetically.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Like life," Maya corrected gently.

Piper looked down at Sarah's file, still unopened in her hands. "I don't need to process her file," she realized. "I need to process my own fear. My own rigid thinking. My own..."

The numbers above her head began to glow: +2,500 points.

"Really?" Piper looked up in surprise. "That many points just for—"

"For finally understanding," Fatima said. "For seeing that your sister's courage to change wasn't a threat to your stability—"

"But an invitation to grow," Piper finished. She quickly calculated her total. "Wait. With these points, I'm almost at—"

"Reincarnation level," Maya confirmed, her outfit settling into something that looked suspiciously like graduation robes. "Though you'll still be a few thousand short."

Piper stood up, suddenly energized. "Then I'll earn them. I'll process more souls, really understand them this time. And when I reincarnate..." She clutched Sarah's file to her chest. "I'll do better. I'll earn enough points to come back here, to find her when she..." She swallowed hard. "When she arrives."

Grim appeared on the table, his bow tie now a gentle rainbow of shifting colors.

"You knew," she told him. "You knew all along that this was where I needed to go."

The cat just purred, a sound that seemed to contain multitudes.

"I'll make it right," Piper promised, to Grim, to herself, to the universe. "In my next life, I'll be the kind of person who celebrates change instead of fearing it. Who loves instead of judges. Who..." She smiled slightly. "Who lets cats knock things off tables because sometimes chaos shows us what we need to see."

The numbers above her head glowed brighter: another +500 points.

"Now you're getting it," Maya said, as the break room began to fade around them. "Time to get back to work."

"Time is—" Piper started to say automatically, then laughed. "Actually, you know what? Time is exactly what we make of it. And I'm going to make mine count."

She headed back to her desk, Sarah's file still clutched close, ready to earn every point she needed to make things right. After all, she had an eternity to work with.

And somewhere in the distance, a cat purred in approval.

Back at her desk, Piper found a new form waiting: "REINCARNATION APPLICATION AND POINTS ALLOCATION - STANDARD VERSION."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she muttered. "Even reincarnation has paperwork?"

Asher materialized beside her desk, their form shifting between what looked like various gaming characters. "Actually, it's more like character creation."

"Like D&D?" Piper perked up. "Wait, no. Don't tell me the nerds were right about life being a game."

"Not exactly." Asher produced what looked like a price menu. "Think of it more as... cosmic resource allocation."

Piper scanned the list:

BASIC REINCARNATION (5,000 points)

* Random placement in space and time

* No attribute selection

* Standard NPC background

* Luck roll: 1d20

ENHANCED REINCARNATION (10,000 points)

* Choice of era (past/present/future)

* Basic attribute selection

* Background options

* Luck roll: 2d20 (take highest)

* Possible predetermined encounters

"NPC background?" Piper snorted. "Are you seriously calling regular people NPCs?"

"Would you prefer 'soul of average circumstance'?" Asher asked dryly.

Piper checked her point total: 6,122. "So I could reincarnate now, but I'd be totally random? Like, I could end up as a medieval peasant with dysentery?"

"That's... oddly specific, but yes."

"Hard pass." Piper crossed her arms. "What's this about predetermined encounters? Could I arrange to meet Sarah?"

"That's a premium feature," Asher said. "It costs extra. A lot extra."

"How much extra?"

"25,000 points for a guaranteed meaningful encounter."

"WHAT?" Piper nearly fell out of her chair. "That's highway robbery! That's cosmic extortion! That's—"

"The price of defying probability," Asher finished. "The universe doesn't like being forced into coincidences."

"The universe can kiss my—"

Grim appeared, somehow managing to look scandalized despite being a cat.

"Fine." Piper slumped in her chair. "But there has to be a better way. I mean, look at these attribute options!"

She pointed to the menu:

BASIC ATTRIBUTES (500 points each):

* Intelligence (+2)

* Physical Prowess (+2)

* Charisma (+2)

* Artistic Ability (+2)

* Emotional Intelligence (+2)

* Luck Modifier (+1)

ADVANCED ATTRIBUTES (1,000 points each):

* Perfect Pitch

* Photographic Memory

* Natural Leadership

* Animal Affinity

* Empathic Sensitivity

* Universal Language Aptitude

"So I could blow all my points on being able to talk to animals, but I might still end up as a plague doctor in the 1300s?" Piper shook her head. "No way. I'm earning more points first."

"The basic package isn't that bad," Asher offered. "Many souls find the random placement exciting."

"Yeah, well, many souls probably haven't spent eternity in a cosmic office processing other people's bad life choices." Piper picked up Sarah's file. "I need to make this right. And I'm not taking chances with random placement."

She stood up, squaring her shoulders. "I'm earning those 10,000 points. Maybe even the full 25,000. Whatever it takes."

"That could take a while," Asher warned.

"Time is meaningless in the afterlife," Piper said with a grin. "And besides, I'm getting pretty good at this soul processing thing. Watch this."

She opened her next file with flourish. "Karen Martinez, died 2024, lost points for running an anti-trans Facebook group." Piper's smile turned predatory. "Oh, I am going to process the hell out of this one."

Asher's form flickered with what might have been amusement. "You're actually starting to enjoy this, aren't you?"

"What can I say?" Piper cracked her knuckles. "Turns out helping other judgmental people understand the error of their ways is surprisingly satisfying. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cosmic karma to process."

Grim settled onto her desk, his bow tie glowing with approval, as Piper dove into her work with renewed purpose. She had points to earn, a sister to find, and an entire universe of possibilities to explore.

And this time, she was doing it on her own terms.

"You know," Maya said during their next break, her outfit shifting between various spy movie costumes, "there are ways to... optimize your reincarnation odds."

Piper looked up from where she'd been calculating how many files she'd need to process to reach 10,000 points. "I'm listening."

"The system sometimes awards bonus attributes," Fatima added, her hijab's galaxy swirling mysteriously. "For souls who show particular... growth."

"Like a cosmic employee of the month program?" Piper snorted.

"More like recognition of authentic change," Maya said. "For instance, someone who starts processing souls just to earn points, but ends up genuinely understanding and empathizing with them..."

"That sounds suspiciously specific," Piper narrowed her eyes. "Have you been spying on my files?"

"Perhaps," Maya's outfit settled on a trench coat. "Or perhaps I just noticed your point total jumped by 500 when you processed that anti-trans activist's file with actual compassion instead of judgment."

"That was different," Piper protested. "She reminded me of... me."

"Exactly!" Maya's coat sparkled. "That's the kind of insight that earns bonus attributes."

Piper sat straighter. "So you're saying if I keep processing files like that, I might get free stats? Like a cosmic power-up?"

"The system does seem to favor those who develop true empathy," Fatima said diplomatically.

"Speaking of the system," Piper lowered her voice, "hypothetically, if someone wanted to find out where a specific soul might end up... you know, for planning purposes..."

"You mean like hacking Sarah's future file?" Maya raised an eyebrow.

"What? No! I would never..." Piper paused. "Wait, is that possible?"

"Only if you want to end up in soul rehabilitation," Fatima warned. "Besides, future files are written in quantum probability. They're impossible to read until they solidify."

"Unless—" Wei began to flicker into existence.

"NOT NOW, WEI," everyone shouted.

"Fine," Piper slumped. "I'll do it the honest way. Process files, earn points, hope for bonus attributes..."

"And maybe," Maya suggested, her outfit settling into something that looked suspiciously like Sarah's wedding dress, "focus on understanding souls who struggled with change. With accepting new truths. With letting go of old certainties."

"I see what you did there," Piper said dryly. But she was already thinking about her next batch of files, about how many souls she'd processed who'd faced similar challenges. Who'd chosen fear over love, certainty over truth.

Grim appeared on the break room table, his bow tie shifting through rainbow hues.

"Let me guess," Piper told him. "You already knew about the bonus attributes thing."

The cat began grooming himself with an air of infinite wisdom.

"Fine," Piper slumped. "I'll do it the honest way. Process files, earn points, hope for bonus attributes..."

"And maybe," Maya suggested, her outfit settling into something that looked suspiciously like Sarah's wedding dress, "focus on souls who struggled with change."

"I see what you did there," Piper said dryly. But she was already thinking about her next batch of files with new purpose. Not just tasks to complete, but stories to understand.

As she headed back to her desk, she heard Maya say softly, "I give her two weeks before she earns that Empathy attribute."

"Time is meaningless in the afterlife," Fatima reminded her.

"Fair point. Two meaningless time units, then."

Piper smiled to herself as she sat down at her desk. They weren't wrong about her motivation starting as just point-earning. But something had shifted. Each file wasn't just a task anymore - it was a person. A story. A chance to understand.

Maybe that's what real empathy was. Not just feeling what others felt, but truly wanting to understand their story.

Her next file was already waiting: another soul who'd struggled with accepting change in their family. Perfect.

"Alright," she told Grim, who had somehow beaten her back to her desk. "Let's do this properly. No shortcuts. No judgment. Just... understanding."

The cat's bow tie glowed with approval as she opened the file, ready to truly see another soul's journey.

And somewhere in her point total display, a small note appeared: "Empathy Development Progress: 47%"