"Congratulations!" the reincarnation interface chirped. "You have achieved the required point total for Enhanced Reincarnation!"
Piper stared at the glowing menu floating before her. Her point total—25,427—sparkled in a way that reminded her of those high-achiever files. She'd done it. She'd actually done it.
"And look at that," Maya said, appearing beside her in what looked like a video game character creation screen background. "You unlocked Empathy as a free trait."
"What do you mean, free?" Piper scrolled through the menu. Sure enough, under "Granted Attributes" was:
EMPATHY (Awarded)
* Enhanced ability to understand and connect with others
* Bonus points for authentic connections
* WARNING: May result in crying at commercials
"I don't understand," Piper said. "I didn't buy this."
"You earned it." Asher materialized, their form shifting between various wise mentors from throughout history. "Through genuine growth and understanding."
"Like a cosmic achievement unlock?" Piper grinned. "All those rehabilitation files actually taught me something?"
"Who would have thought?" Maya's outfit shifted to a gaming t-shirt. "Now, are you going to sit there gloating or are you going to build your next character?"
Piper turned back to the menu with renewed excitement. The interface was surprisingly intuitive:
TIMELINE SELECTION
* Past (locked - requires Historical Knowledge perk)
* Present (available)
* Future (locked - requires Quantum Understanding perk)
"Present it is," Piper muttered. She navigated through location options until she found what she was looking for: Chicago suburbs, where she knew Sarah had built her life. The system wouldn't let her choose specific parents, but she could select the general area.
BASIC ATTRIBUTES (500 points each):
* Intelligence (+2)
* Physical Prowess (+2)
* Charisma (+2)
* Artistic Ability (+2)
* Emotional Intelligence (+2)
* Luck Modifier (+1)
SPECIAL ABILITIES (1,000 points each):
* Perfect Pitch
* Photographic Memory
* Natural Leadership
* Animal Affinity
* Universal Language Aptitude
* Remember the Afterlife
Piper's cursor hovered over that last one. The tooltip expanded:
REMEMBER THE AFTERLIFE
* Retain memories and knowledge from previous life and afterlife
* Understanding of universal truths and cosmic systems
* NOTE: You will be unable to effectively communicate this knowledge
* Attempts to share will result in:
* Being dismissed as imagination
* Creative inspiration (books, art, etc.)
* Profound but inexplicable déjà vu
* WARNING: May result in existential crises during teenage years
"That's... actually kind of hilarious," Piper said. "Like, I could remember everything, but if I try to tell anyone, they'll just think I have an overactive imagination?"
"The universe has a sense of humor," Maya offered.
"More like the universe has a good spam filter," Piper muttered. But she selected it anyway. Better to remember her mission than stumble around blind.
She spent the next several eternities (or possibly minutes—time was still meaningless) fine-tuning her build:
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
SELECTED ATTRIBUTES:
* Intelligence (+2)
* Emotional Intelligence (+2)
* Charisma (+2)
* Luck Modifier (+1)
* Remember the Afterlife
* Animal Affinity (because honestly, she'd gotten used to having Grim around)
GRANTED ATTRIBUTES:
* Empathy (awarded through achievement)
"This feels weirdly like creating a D&D character," Piper said. "Shouldn't deciding your next life be more... I don't know, spiritual?"
Grim appeared on the interface, somehow managing to look both divine and judgmental.
"Right, right," Piper sighed. "Question everything, even the questions."
The cat began to purr, and the interface glowed brighter.
FINAL CONFIRMATION:
* Timeline: Present
* Location: Naperville, Illinois
* Attributes: Selected
* Points Remaining: 18,927
* Save points for next playthrough? Y/N
"Next playthrough?" Piper squeaked. "You mean I get to keep my leftover points?"
"The universe rewards efficiency," Asher said cryptically.
Piper took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready. How does this work? Do I just click 'accept' or—"
The world dissolved.
There was a moment of pure consciousness—awareness without form, understanding without context. She felt connected to everything, part of a vast cosmic dance of energy and potential.
Then, slowly, sensation began to return. But not like before. This was... new. Different.
She felt warmth first. Then sound—muffled but present. A heartbeat, but not her own. Movement. Pressure.
"Oh no," she thought. "Oh NO. I have to do the WHOLE thing? Like, FROM THE BEGINNING?"
But before she could protest further, everything shifted. Pressure. Movement. A sense of transition that she REALLY didn't want to think too hard about.
Then light. Sound. Cold.
And a very familiar cat, sitting in the hospital window, wearing a bowtie that somehow contained the entire universe.
"Really?" she tried to say, but it came out as a baby's wail.
Grim just purred, a sound that seemed to say "See you soon, kid," then vanished.
The next few moments were a blur of sensations and voices. Someone was crying—not her, for once. Through her brand-new, extremely unfocused eyes, she could make out two men holding each other.
"She's perfect," one of them whispered.
"Thank you," the other said to someone Piper couldn't see. "Thank you so much for carrying her for us."
Wait. What?
As her vision slowly adjusted to being, well, alive, Piper began to piece things together. Two dads. A surrogate mother. She was being handed to one of her fathers now, his beard tickling her impossibly sensitive new skin.
"Welcome to the world, Luna," he murmured.
Luna. Her new name was Luna. She had to admit, it was prettier than Piper.
Piper tried to ask several extremely important questions about the logistics of her birth situation, but they all came out as various baby noises. Which was probably for the best, really. Hard to explain that you're actually a reincarnated soul with questions about modern reproductive medicine.
The next two and a half years passed in a blur of new experiences and frustrations. Having a baby's brain with adult consciousness was... interesting. She couldn't form complex thoughts, couldn't maintain her focus, couldn't even control her own body properly. But the memories were there, floating just beneath the surface.
Her dads—Papa and Dad, as she would come to call them—were amazing. Patient, loving, understanding. Even when she threw tantrums because her stupid baby hands wouldn't do what she wanted them to do. Even when she cried in frustration because she KNEW how to use a spoon, damn it, she just couldn't make it work.
The points counter remained stubbornly absent through it all. She wondered sometimes if she'd imagined that part, if maybe the "Remember the Afterlife" perk had been a cruel joke.
Then came that day at the playground. She was two and a half, finally in control of most of her motor functions, when she saw another toddler fall and start crying. Without thinking, she wobbled over to him.
"It's okay," she said in her still-developing toddler voice. "Sometimes we fall down. But we get back up."
The boy sniffled and looked at her with huge, tear-filled eyes.
"Want to play trucks with me?" she offered, pointing to the sandbox.
He nodded, tears forgotten, and followed her to the toys.
Suddenly, floating in her vision like a video game notification:
POINTS EARNED: 20 CURRENT TOTAL: 20
* Genuine empathy and connection with another soul
Piper grinned, accidentally dropping the truck she was holding. The counter was real. The memories were real. All of it was real.
"Truck go boom?" the boy asked, concerned about her dropped toy.
"Truck go boom," she agreed solemnly, and picked it up again.
She had a long way to go, but at least now she knew she was on the right track. One genuine connection at a time, one point at a time. And maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out how two men had a baby somewhere along the way.
Though that particular question might have to wait until she had a vocabulary bigger than "truck go boom."