“Death might be the end for humans, but angels still have to deal with the paperwork.” -A saying among workers in the Inbetween

It never crossed his mind until now that, after dying in a horrible plane crash and opening his eyes to this strange grey Afterlife, he might truly come face to face with Death. The cheesy commercials, overconfident angels, and fellow dead souls had effectively eased him into a state of false security. The strangeness of those interactions had distracted him from his own dreadful death leaving him feeling strangely calm. However, now that he sat across from Death himself, that calm veil over his head had been abruptly torn off.

I don’t want to be sent to Hell. I can still change... Oh God, it might be too late for that.

"Do you know why you are meeting me?" asked Death, breaking Simon out of his thoughts.

"Because I died?" Death's silent response indicated how amusing he found Simon's joking answer. "I... um, have no idea then," Simon nervously said. The cloaked figure just stared at Simon until his nerves threatened to explode, prompting him to say anything that came to mind.

"Alright, okay, I'm sorry about that time when Tommy dared me to chug the wine during the blessing, or the time we fell asleep during our confirmation, or when we challenged each other to be the last to sit down every Sunday. I'm sorry, I don't go to mass except for the holidays, and I always break my Lent promise within a week. Please, just don't send me to Hell!" Simon rattled off, confessing all the sins that sprang to mind as absurd as they may be.

Simon had been avoiding eye contact during his confession, not daring to look up at the cloaked figure, but a sound made him look up. Death, in his long dark robes, was shaking. At first, Simon was confused, but then he heard an unmistakable sound.

"Hehehe."

Death was giggling. Death was laughing at him!

Baffled, he watched as Death pulled back his hood, revealing a young woman with long dark hair, unnaturally pale skin, and a smirking grin. Her youthful appearance was threatened by the large bags under her crystal blue eyes. When the hood had swept back, a golden halo popped up and hovered over her head as she mischievously grinned at his stupefied face.

"I totally got you, haha. I'm so glad I took up your case. You know, your little plane crash delayed our lunch, but this... oh, this was so worth it. I needed this," cheerfully said Death. Her tone was the opposite of how she had first greeted him, now warm and energetic.

Was this a prank? Did I seriously get pranked by Death? I haven't even been dead all that long!

"I... you're welcome, Ms. Death?" Simon replied, not knowing what else to say. He was beginning to resign himself to being constantly flustered around these angels.

"Death? No, no, no. I'm Azrael, the Archangel of Death. I get confused a lot for that old sack of bones. I'm the one in charge of this branch of overworked angels," she said, kicking her feet up on the desk, causing a few papers to fall to the floor.

Simon vaguely remembered learning about Azrael in church, but besides being an Archangel, he knew next to nothing. He straightened up in his chair, It was time to get some answers. “Azrael, I've got a few questions. First off, what the hell is this place?"

Leaning back in her chair, she replied, "I'm sure you have more than a few questions, they always do. Take a seat. The video should've explained it, but Corporate never put much stock into Sandy's advertisement," she gestured with her arms, indicating the cluttered office around her. "This is the Inbetween! We process souls here and prepare you for your next stage in the Afterlife."

Straightforward enough, he thought. Thinking for a second Simon thought back to the video that had played. "Sandy mentioned there was more than one option for the Afterlife. What are they?" he asked, curious about the answer.

Azrael pointed to a poster taped to the wall depicting cartoon versions of Heaven, Hell, and Earth and an image of something he didn’t understand. She spoke in a tone that hinted at how often she gave the same pitch, "We've got all sorts of Afterlife options to choose from. You have your standard eternal basking in Heaven, a period of punishment in Hell, reincarnation back into the soul cycle of Earth, and a premium package where we transport the soul into one of the multitudes of connected worlds."

Simon's mind was whirling at the casual way she just listed options for continued existence. "You know, learning that Heaven and Hell are real isn't even close to the most shocking thing to happen today.” His death was at number one but this whole place was threatening to overtake that. “But you mean to tell me that people reincarnating in fantasy worlds is an option!" Simon exclaimed, thinking back on the countless daydreams of living in the books he had read.

"Of course, it’s an option. Besides, I've learned it's best not to dwell on these matters. It won't matter once you make your choice anyways," she said now balancing on her chair, rummaging through one of the many file cabinets behind her. "Found it! Let's see if you've got enough points to get into Heaven.” Flipping through what Simon presumed was his file she smiled up at him. “Oh, lucky you, you pass."

"Just like that? But what about what I confessed earlier? That's not enough to send me to Hell?" he asked.

"If everyone got sent to Hell for that, we'd have no one soaking in the glory of eternal paradise. Anyways, you can also choose the Isekai option. We get a bonus if you go that route! It’s been decades since my last vacation." cheerfully said the cloaked angel.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Simon and the Archangel talked back and forth for a while after that, and with each new answer, more questions arose. He had seen a list of isekai options and learned how the process of choosing one worked. Some options allowed him to keep his memories, select an item or ability and there was even a choice to have a different body. To proceed, he would have to sign a contract in his file, selecting the Afterlife route of his choice, and he would be whisked away to that place. After a short while, Simon decided to ask something that had been on his mind ever since he died in that plane crash.

"Has my Grandpa passed away yet?" Simon asked earnestly, nervous about her answer.

Azrael paused from leaning back in her chair and began rummaging through a stack of files against the right wall. Pulling one of them out, she began leafing through it. "If you were wondering, it's my job to know everyone's name. Hmm, it appears that he’s still alive and has started to regain some of his strength," she said cheerfully, a touch of care in her eyes.

Sighing with relief, Simon leaned back into the chair and felt his eyes water. The novelty of the situation he found himself had preoccupied his thoughts but now it had finally hit him—he would never see any of them again. Not his parents, Alex, Gramps, and all the other friends he had made. He was really dead, just like Tommy two years before. Just like Tommy... Simon thought as a sudden realization struck him. How could I have overlooked that?

"Okay, I have one more question. What happened to my best friend Thomas 'Tommy' Willson? He died two years ago on April 12th," Simon said, leaning forward with his eyes fixed on Azrael, awaiting her response. Please, if everyone dies he has to have passed through here.

Tilting her head, she looked up and pondered for a moment. "He was the one who died in a car crash on prom night, right?" Azrael said, her gaze meeting his nodding confirmation. Retrieving a file from one of the many stacks on the back wall, she began leafing through it. After a few flips, she paused, and her expression turned into a frown.

"What is it? What happened to my friend?" Simon questioned anxiously.

"I remember him now. He took the Isekai route. His soul was transported to a world called Eritia, but it has since been designated Off-Limits by Corporate.” She raised her hands up at him in a gesture to calm him. “You have to understand, we rarely remove a world from the list, but it became too dangerous," Azrael said, but he was too lost in thought to care.

Tommy was alive! But they had just left him there? Tommy was alive... AND THEY LEFT HIM TO DIE!

Anger surged within him as he contemplated how his friend had seemingly been abandoned by these angels. "So you left him there? What the hell! Why didn't you rescue him?" Simon shouted, his voice rising as he slammed his hands against the desk scattering papers.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me. We tried to retrieve them all, but it was futile. According to the reports, the gods of Eritia were incredibly powerful and unpredictable. We sent a few angels to retrieve them, but they never returned. Since then, Corporate has ordered the world to be barred from the Afterlife list, and no one is allowed to enter. I'm sorry, Simon."

This can’t be happening again. It’s my fault he’s trapped there, if I had just gone in the car with him that night. No, I can’t lose him again.

Simon’s mind spun while he sank back into his chair, he contemplated the situation his friend might be facing. What was the point in Heaven if he wouldn’t be there? A budding idea started to take shape as Azrael spoke—something crazy, stupid, and reckless.

Looking up at her, Simon composed his face into resignation. "Hey Azrael, I'm sorry I yelled at you. It was just a shock. It won't matter once I choose my own route. Tommy made his choice. Can I have a minute alone to decide my route? I know I caused you to miss your lunch. I don't mind waiting if you want to grab it," Simon lied, trying to make it believable. He hoped it would be enough.

Azrael looked relieved as she patted him on the shoulder and assured him she would be right back. As soon as the door closed behind her, he swiftly moved behind her desk and pulled open Tommy's file. A picture of his friend's grinning face greeted him as he quickly scanned the document. Bingo! There it was—a familiar, clumsy signature at the bottom, confirming the Afterlife route he had chosen. Eritia, a world so dangerous that not even Heaven wanted to intervene.

I won't lose you a second time.

Snatching his own file from where Azrael had placed it, Simon grabbed a pen and began filling out the information. With haste, he copied from Tommy's sheet, quickly preparing everything and leaving only the signature line for him to sign. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Azrael walked in. Her good mood dropped like the tuna casserole she held in her hand, now staining the gray carpet of the office.

"Ahhh my lunch! Simon, stop," said the Archangel of Death, her expression turning serious. "Don't do it. I already told you how dangerous it is. Your friend might already be dead.” As she spoke she inched forward toward him. “There are no second chances over there."

"For the past two years, I've been running away from what happened. No matter how many friends I made or places I explored, none of it could fill that void.” His fist tightened around the pen as he looked the Archangel in her eyes. “But now, I have the opportunity to see him again, no matter how slim the chances are. I'll find him, damn anyone who gets in my way," Simon spoke, his resolve solidifying as he prepared himself. Holding the pen over the signature line, he looked at Azrael. "I choose this route."

Thank you, Gramps. I won't run anymore, I promise.

Azrael lunged across the room in an attempt to stop him, but she was too late. Simon signed his name on the form and then knew nothing more as a bright light engulfed his vision.

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Azrael struggled to gather herself amidst the scattered files on her desk. Simon Everland, the human, was gone, having completed the contract and been transported to Eritia—a land governed by selfish gods and teeming with enough danger that even the Archangels hesitated to intervene in its affairs. Corporate is so going to write me up for this, she thought.

She ran her hands through her long dark hair, sighing deeply, she picked up her dropped tuna casserole. Taking a bite from her ruined lunch, she reached for the phone on her desk and dialed a number. The receiver was answered immediately, without even a single ring.

"Azrael, how many decades has it been?" a deep male voice spoke, its tone devoid of emotion.

"Not now, Gabriel. I need you to deliver a message to Corporate.”

“What is it this time?”

“I’m taking my vacation early,” said Azrael, looking at the two forms left open on her desk the name Eritia scrawled on both.