They were dead.
Neither of them could quite remember how they died - or what their names were, or what they used to be. What they did know was that they were in a small room made of plaster, with a rickety fan slowly spinning from the ceiling. They were hovering in front of a desk with a metal foldable chair behind it, and a small lamp flickering weakly in front of them. They had no bodies, but could somehow clearly detect exactly where each other was.
“Wh… where are we?” One of them asked, clearly concerned.
“I don’t know.” The other sounded curious, but not overly worried.
The door opened, interrupting both of them, and a person walked in.
He was wearing a (slightly oily) beige suit, black striped tie, brown shoes, and his head was a blue cloud of what looked like dense stardust. He was grumbling, thick disappointment in his voice. “I can’t believe I’m being sent to pitch to another stinkin’ carnie. Why can’t I get a new soul every now and then? We bein’ green or something?”
The first of them asked with some trepidation, “Where are we?”
The stardust man groaned irritably, swinging into the metal folding chair, a manila folder poofing into existence. He selected it, flicking through it while talking. “You are in Sales right now, though you won’t be for long. This is just a quick stop.” The cloud flickered for a moment as he paused, and they got the distinct feeling he was looking at them. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’? There should only be one of you.”
They checked each other, still quite confident that they were separate beings. “...I think that I’m a different person. Am I a person?” The cloud wiggled as he shook his head. “Not anymore. Now you’re just blank souls, here from a place called…” he checked the folder again. “Earth, apparently. I guess you were twins. That would definitely explain the mix-up.”
The name didn’t ring any bells. “Why don’t we remember anything?”
“Because you’re blank, wiped clean, you're not quite you anymore, you’re just a base. Really, this is mostly a courtesy.” The stardust man waved his arms, emphasizing the words ‘blank’ and ‘wiped’.
“Why would you do something so mean?” The first one sounded sad, as though she didn’t really blame him for doing so, and he shook his head again. “Oh no, we didn’t do this against your will - wills. You sold your… everything, really. Whoever got it was really lucky.”
The second was suspicious. “What did we have to sell to start with?” He chuckled happily, reading through the files. “Your memories, your names - all six of them, no less - everything, like I said!”
They were both silent. “Why would we sell those?” The second sounded wary, but not hostile, and the stardust man answered pleasantly. “Well, you were likely very concerned for each other. The more you sell to us, the more comfortable we can make your early days in your new home.” Looking at each other, they asked at the same time. “What new home?”
He placed the folder on the desk and steepled his gloved fingers. “Well, normally we would just shove you in whatever body was available and leave it at that, but you two really bankrupted yourselves. As a result, you got the Premium package. One high-ranking form with very high potential. Although, since there are two of you, you’ll probably get two of the same form.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Do we get to decide?” The second asked immediately, and he laughed. It wasn’t unkind, but he didn’t cushion it either. “How would you decide? You don’t remember what your names are, much less what could be considered powerful. Really, we’re doing you a service by picking for you.”
Again, they were quiet as they considered the implications. The first of them finally asked, “I feel as though we should be worried that we died.” The man leaned back in the chair, placing his feet on the desk and sighing. “Look, there’s a lot of weird stuff here at the Office. Just go with it and let us do all the work for you.”
The second one thought for a bit, questioning the man, “Well, what’s your name? It would be easier to have something to call you.” His head made a sort of crackly motion, small sparks connecting the dots. They waited patiently for his response before he eventually said, “That was it. That was - that was my name right there. Good grief, you can’t even understand Universal?”
They didn’t say anything, and he sighed. “You can call me Jim if you want. Anyway, is there anything you’d like that’s specific? I can help you out a lot more if I know what you want.” The second responded immediately, overcome with an innate connection to the other, acting up at the thought they would be separated. “I want us to be whatever we are together. I’m not leaving.” He chuckled again, amused. “Please. We didn’t prepare for there to be two of you, so we’ll just copy what we had for you and leave it at that. Of course, you’ll be together, you came here together. Though I’m not sure of the implications,” he added.
The first thought about it before responding. “Thank you for giving us new bodies.” The second was immediately indignant, almost shouting. “What? You’re thanking him? We’re not even alive anymore!”
“But we can be, and he’s letting us stay together!” The first seemed almost desperate for a positive spin.
Jim had seen it before. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to give a Pitch to someone (though it was his first time giving it to two people), and it wasn’t uncommon for the previously dead to try and be optimistic. In fact, depending on the form, it wouldn’t be surprising if the optimism paid off.
A thought struck him, and he opened the folder again, checking on what their species would be. His cloud crackled as his surprise showed through. “Well, that’s a first…” he muttered to himself. The second noticed, “What is it? What aren’t you telling us?”
He sat up sharply, hands gesturing in what was supposed to be a comforting manner. “It’s nothing! I mean, it’s not nothing, but-” He collected himself, relaxing in the chair. “Your desire to stick together will be granted. Quite thoroughly.”
Both the first and second looked at him with confusion, and slight concern. The second asked suspiciously, “What do you mean by that?” He placed his hands, palm down, on the desk, trying to calm himself.
He wasn’t worried. In fact, he was incredibly excited. “Your new forms have been chosen for you. You will become-” he paused dramatically, “-control cores. Rest assured that you will not be leaving each other’s side until well after a year, more likely than not.”
“What’s a-” The second began talking, but Jim cut them off, dismissively waving a hand. “Don’t worry about it, cores are highly valued on the planet you’re going to. Besides, they have an extremely high amount of potential and you can literally build any company you might get in the mood for. What’s not to like?”
“Maybe the fact that we’re dead?”
Jim sighed in heavy annoyance. The first one seemed quite accommodating, if not a little naive, but the second had quite a bit of lip. Well, whether or not either of them would survive was up to them. For all his talk of a ‘Premium’ package, it was more like they would be shoved into a slightly more advantageous body. Aside from the basic system already built into their functions, they really wouldn’t be receiving much help.
“I only have a few minutes before you get rezzed, but there is one more thing as a part of the Premium kit. You get temporary names.”
They seemed surprised. “Really?” The second one spoke first, a little less annoyed, and Jim nodded pleasantly. “Of course! It’s premium, after all.”
Suddenly, they felt a strange sucking sensation, as though they were being drained through their roots. Jim stood up, a little amazed they were being inserted so quickly. “Uh, okay, we’ve got less time than I initially thought, so…” He thought for a moment, before hurriedly saying, “Your names are [N] and {A}. Good luck!”
The second one, now named [N], tried to complain, but all that came out was a slight gurgling. It could feel itself being condensed, compacted, until…
BOOM.